I am neither, and therefore I bear little corporeal resemblance to Buck Mulligan. Since today is Bloomsday I bought myself a copy of Ulysses, my old one having perished. This one is an old hardback from Moe’s, delightfully musty. I read part of the first chapter on the steps of the library before the crowds of orientating students and parents forced me to flee to the relative calm of Cory Hall.
Don’t bother reading on unless you care for my self-excoriating drivel.
Yesterday was both good and bad — I cooked a tasty dinner with Bobak of pan-seared tuna with ginger-shiitake cream sauce, broccoli raab cooked the way Winnie suggested oh-so-long ago at the start of this blog (but it needed more pepper flakes), fresh bread from the Acme bakery, a little spring salad, and a tasty gamay wine Bobak found in Napa. Later on we hung out with Allie at Spat’s and Au Coquelet. That was the good.
The bad was that I lost my temper twice in bad ways — once at my landlord, who was giving me a little bit of a runaround on the dead animal under the house issue, and once at Allie when we were at Spat’s, resulting in me storming out of the place and starting to walk home. I was on a pretty even keel for a while this year, but I’m beginning to lose my hold on myself again. I think the more comfortable I get in a situation the more likely I am to lose my temper. Perhaps the key is to be insecure all of the time. Or just learn to have more self control. To sum up, I need to change. A good start would be to not stress out constantly and take it out on people around me by having a big chip on my shoulder. A smaller chip would do, and I should superglue it to my skin so that it can’t get knocked off without causing me serious injury.
Deb told me that she superglued her fingers together in her architecture studio. That sounds pretty damn painful.
This wins for worst entry ever.