I didn't do much today, but it was all good. We had fresh bagels from Noah's for breakfast and then took the dogs on a long walk. It was beautiful outside, and the puppies asked us if they please could just chase one or two ducks. We said no, but they got over their disappointment. When we got back, we snuggled up, watched a sub-par movie (we had fun anyway), and then split a bottle of wine over dinner. I love days like this.

I was chatting with some friends about something Jeff said today that made me laugh: "We need a wet bar in the bedroom," he announced. "And a TV that hangs from the ceiling. And a chimpanzee butler." As a result of these statements and the conversation that followed, I am now the proud owner of www.chimpanzeebutler.com. I have no idea what I'll do with it; I have two other domain names I don't actually use. Still, I'm sure I'll come up with something.

Must get work done tomorrow. After an astonishingly unproductive couple of days, I'm starting to feel like Jude Law's character in The Talented Mr. Ripley, only without all the money and without the murderous stalker. I do sometimes wish I had the means and the constitution to achieve full-blown prodigality. I believe I would enjoy it, though I'd probably start to feel guilty after a while.

Packing my books is always an emotional experience for me. For one thing, it always brings to light exactly how anal I can be ("Good god! I can't possibly mix the cookbooks with the British literature." "It's going to take forever to re-alphabetize all this." "Should I cushion the Compact OED with bubble wrap?" That sort of thing.) Then there are the legitimate, practical concerns. Like the fact that I'm positive someone will finally decide to recall one of the books I've been renewing from the library every semester for the last several years.

There's something else, though. The feeling I get when I put nicely-labeled lids on box after box is not unlike the feeling I get when I run out of cigarettes and know I won't be able to get to the store for a while. A strong attachment to the access, I suppose. What if Right Now is the time I decide that I will finally get to Sentimental Education? Isn't it possible that I will find it Absolutely Necessary to look up something out of Petrarch? Packing, I think, can be an exercise in loosening the attachment temporarily, but it also makes obvious the level of intimacy with which I regard the volumes on my shelves. Even the ones I haven't yet read.

Along with these thoughts, there is a sense of anticipation. As I packed Walter Benjamin's Illuminations, I already found myself thinking how delightful it will be to reread his exquisite essay "Unpacking My Library," now a habitual post-move indulgence. And there is excitement about taking a new space and making it ours. But for now, I'm out of boxes, so a few things remain easily within my reach.

... and because I'm sick of the neighbor's car alarm talking in the middle of the night, here is a list of Fifteen Things that Get or Have Gotten on My Nerves.

1. People with car alarms that talk, of course. ("You are too close to the vehicle." "Step away from the car." Bah.)
2. People who keep roosters in residential neighborhoods.
3. People who don't bother to look before changing lanes.
4. People with inane personalized license plates. (I have at least 15 more driving-related pet peeves, but I'll hold back.)
5. People who play with all the sounds on their cell phones in restaurants while I'm trying to eat.
6. The college students in the back who yell, "I DIDN'T GET ANY PUSSY!" at 4:00 in the morning. Of course you didn't. You're a moron.
7. Administrators who work in student services but truly despise serving students.
8. The persistence of confusion between "your" and "you're."
9. Guys in college who used to say things like, "I can't believe you won't sleep with me. All those hours I spent working out in the gym were for nothing. Now I feel undesirable to all women." With lines like those, you're on your way, buddy.
10. People who arrive to pick up a member of their carpool at 5:30 am, park outside with the car running, and honk incessantly. (I suppose that's driving-related. Yeah, I changed my mind.)
11. Republican Hair. (Think Nancy Reagan. About half the female guests on Politically Incorrect. Arianna Huffington, no longer a Republican darling but still sporting the 'do.)
12. People who don't clean up after their dogs at the park.
13. People who give me shit for not changing my last name after I got married.
14. Passengers on planes who won't stop kicking the back of my seat.
15. Movie-goers over six feet tall who, after surveying scores of open seats, decide to sit directly in front of me, thus forcing me to move. They are usually the same people who get up for more Milk Duds halfway through the show and then loudly demand a full recap from their friends upon returning.