Zen of The Hulk

Up fairly early for breakfast. I sloped off into happily to buy bread and eggs, and Lorraine starting breakfast when I got back. Everyday things like this make me feel very happy for some reason. I must be more of a creature of habit than I think. Betty off to work, slightly under a gloom cloud, and then back to London. Lorraine and I had a unruffled day. Walked into Brighton, bumping into Dipak in the street, and then popped in to see Matt and Irish Tom for a cup of tea and a chat. Bought some sausage rolls from the store below which we ate with Matt who seemed in good spirits having walked for hours this morning in the country, which peaked the Pollard toes Lorraine had treated a few weeks ago.

Lorraine and I mooching happily in various shops for a few hours. We had been given quite a few vouchers for our wedding and one or two for Christmas. Could find nothing that demanded buying, other than a book of Japanese cookery that Romy had recommended to Lorraine. Home on the bus.

I was feeling rather tired. Lorraine fished out the balti dishes and cooked a splendid curry, while I sat on my butt watching The Incredible Hulk on TV. I have watched very few of these superhero movies, surprising as I loved those marvel comics for a while when I was a child. The image of the Hulk tearing up through the tarmac is one I have always seemed to have in my mind, and this film had a scene like this too. I liked how Marvel heroes ripped their way through concrete and buildings and sometimes different dimensions, signifying, Grasshopper, the fragility of reality.