a curmudgeonly art blogger wrote recently that “reading bad books is miserable, but it’s fun to review them.” i suppose it’s the same with ex-boyfriends or memories. once, during college break, i went home and took this requisite ferry ride home. midway, a pod of shiny dolphins started racing with the boat, one of them, i can still remember clearly, had a tuft of barnacles clinging to the root of its dorsal fin.