Still, I suppose a bit of stability wouldn't hurt me. I probably need a strong calming influence exerting due force on my turbulent emotions. However, I suppose his notion of a calming influence will need a little tinkering with. He usually ends up enraging me far beyond what I intended to exceed.

My mom reckons that he is still too immature to "rang" or rather be more maganimous or indulgent where a female is concerned. Yes, throw out sexual equality for this particular bit of advice. In return the silly male gets a slightly more docile maid-servant. Hmmm. That was too strong a reaction for a supposedly maid-servant. Alright, I acknowledge that I do not think my mom had the idea of docility as the exaggerated manifestation of a maid-servant, odalisque or a painted doll.

***

Alright. I'm just rambling because for some weird hormonal reason, I am incredibly chirpy, incurably ditzy and downright maniac.

Well, for one, I have started reading again. I stopped reading as much as I used to the last couple of years. I just did not feel like it. Yes, I did read, but if you compared the voracious appetite for books before the incredibly dullness associated with reading in the recent past, I certainly did lose my enthusiasm for books.

I bought three books today, Practical Magic by Alice Hoffman, The Secret Diary of Anne Boleyn by Robin Maxwell and The Ship of Fools by Gregory Norminton.

I read Practical Magic a while ago, and I loved it. I spotted it at a bookstore today and decided to snap it up without much thought. I think the movie inspired me to read the book, and it was one of those novel to screen rarities where both the novel and the film had their individual magic.

That reminds me. I can't understand the fascination people have with The Hours. But that is only a random thought. I cannot give a proper, logical answer for such a strange aversion to The Hours. Perhaps I am just reacting, once more, adversely to the current popular trend.

I am up to page 133 of Robin Maxwell's book. However, as I predicted earlier, the book did not live up to the expectations brought about by the incredible scarcity of it. Bah. Pretty cover though.

And The Ship of Fools was an odd choice for me. It's an Chaucerian style book, but I get the feeling that the avatars in the book are far beyond my limited understanding. I am trying to decipher the symbolism, but I suppose I have to actually read the book in its entirety to get some inkling of the profound erudition that goes into it.

But I like it.

It begins, "Laden like a bowl of cherries, the ship of fools sit on the lawn of the sea." Pure poetry. Maybe somewhat purple, but utterly gorgeous to me. I vaguely recall who Hieronymous Bosch is, but I suspect the historical figure I remember is probably not the Bosch. Oh, I apologise for my vagueness and incongruent statements. Bosch painted The Ship of Fools, which should be the inspiration for the book.

Alright. I spoke too much today. I know I did.