My cats are going to have to undergo years of therapy after this weekend. Last night, one of them caught sight of the dog. She leapt about five feet into the air, cleared the dining room table and slammed face-first into the wall. The word 'spreadeagle' was designed for what happened to that cat.

And my house smells canine.

I went into Norwich today, which is a favourite place of mine. I bought some nice, nice clothes. Also, books. I bought No Logo, which I've been wanting, The Poisonwood Bible and Disgrace. Yeah, I'm Bestseller Boy. But whatever. I also have to read 'America', so I'm thinking that Mr. Kafka will balance out my populist leanings. And then I will be a good student.

Before all that, however, I shall watch Cruel Intentions. Yes I will. (comedy aside: I actually mistyped that as 'Cruet Intentions'. Can't you just picture it? "Could you pass the salt? I'll let you put it anywhere.")

Okay, that's about everything, I guess. One of these days, I'll balance out this meticulous recording of events with some opinions and insights. I promise.

(don't go yet.
just don't go.)