Meow Mix opened a restaurant

Meow Mix opened a restaurant for cats in Manhattan. They serve... Meow Mix. Also serving Meow Mix is any damn store on this planet that sells cat food. This is obviously a dog park thing for people with a few screws loose. I mean, if you're lonely and sad enough to take your cat out on the town... all I'm saying is... you'll meet your perfect match. Someone just as ridiculous as you.

Elise is coming up here for two weeks next month. We should tiptoe on in there without a cat. "We just like to dine surrounded by other people's cats."

Speaking of tiptoeing...

I'll be damned if Jeremy and I didn't tiptoe our way into a racquetball court at the YMCA this afternoon. That's right. We racquetballed.

Racquetball is just like tennis, except I know the rules of tennis and not those of racquetball. Also, both players stand on one side. Also, it's indoors and walled in on all sides. And there's no net of course. The ball is rubber. You hit it against a wall. There are these white lines across the court, but you're not very sure what they're dividing.

Racquetball is awesome.

After playing for two hours, I'm pretty sure I understand how it's played-- minus any idea of scoring and or rules.

But boy it's fun to dick around, to get a feel for the court. To do something active again. When I was on my nature kick, I expressed the importance of an active hobby... hiking is too much trouble to do on a regular basis.

Besides racquetball is a skill that one could eventually harness. And it kicks your ass. Makes you sweat.

Somebody: Do you play any sports?
Me: Yeah. I play racquetball.

Sophisticated. Slightly mysterious. Racquetball is the cult sport of the well learned and well to do... I swear it.

It's past five in the morning, so it's time for me to go work on my book, but before I do...

The trailer for The Life Aquatic appeared online today. Wes Anderson is incredible. Having finally seen Garden State, the anticipation for Aquatic is mounting.

I secretly want to write a movie. A secret one that is only mentioned when mentioning how secret it is.

I am not, at current, writing a secret screenplay... so don't get your hopes up Jeremy.

I have too much on my plate right now. When was the last time I even thought about my novel? It's terrible to feel so disconnected to something I feel so... connected to. I love my novel. Love my novel.

The first book was easy. Maybe that's why I don't like it anymore.

It's been over two years since I wrote the first chapter of the new one. Over two years and only fifty manuscript pages to show. Two years and it's currently buried... under my plate.

I'll come around. I'll go write now.

The diet book.