anna mae wong
Suffering from a bad case of malaise at the moment. Have been wandering listlessly around Richmond trying to cheer myself up with small purchases – several hair clips and two plectrums in the shape of skulls – to no avail.

Am going to attempt Errol Flynn’s “Baked Fish Havanaise” tonight to see if it makes me feel any better. Everyone keeps banging on about fish oil being the cure for all ills – let’s see if it works on a brain full of misery and foreboding. Don’t exactly know what foreboding is but expect it is in there somewhere along with the seemingly endless rattle of recriminations, self doubt, woe and despair.

Rosalind’s friend Anna MW told me last night that she was getting over a failed relationship and had decided to have “six months off men”. This was something I hadn’t considered but might be a good thing. Perhaps I should lie fallow for a few months. Like they used to make fields do in feudal Britain – maybe they still do…

Will report back on Errol’s fishy dish. Not exactly sure what pimientos are but through the wonder of the internet am just about to find out.

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