Surly dragon

First, a quick thank-you to Jeffrey Toobin on CNN this morning for his observation (related to the investigation of Congressman "Cold Hard Cash" Jefferson) that Congress seems to have a frightening ignorance about Constitutional law these days. (Search warrant? Don't apply to me, bitches!) It made me laugh, and then cry just a little. Of course I'm going to a state where they're about to re-elect their first Republican governor in over a century. Maybe I should start chilling some bills.

Because my blog is a haven for narcissism, (my own and others! join me, won't you?) it allows me to share that my behavior of late may be best described as both surly and covetous. My friend E.--another early modernist--often described herself as an old dragon about her books: she felt as though she was curling her tail around them and snorting smoke at anyone who suggested that she might like to get rid of her textbooks from her 20th century American lit course. In undergrad. Helloooo?

But now I get it! Not about my books, though. I stripped myself down so much in my last move that I get to keep them all this time. But about my time in Baltimore and DC, my belongings, and my friends. I'm getting very possessive and covetous. Tonight I was supposed to go out and have dinner, but I've bailed out in order to piddle around the Nest all by my lonesome. I want to be around my things, to see them and be with them before I pack them away. (Precious, anyone?)

Friends are the same way. I want to see them all, but not all at the same time. (Yes, I am this crazy. Thankfully I have good legs and a decent wit, so people are sometimes distracted from my lunacy until too late. Mwahahahaha.) In New York this weekend I've got three friends I must must must see, plus my family, but I'm creating these intricate plans so that I can see each of them separately, and then all together. I think I want to be able to tell each of them how much they mean to me while still soaking up as much friend time as possible. I'm doing this to a lesser extent in DC, too. Like I said, nuts. It's like I'm leaving for missionary work in Mali and may not ever return. Like there are no internets or phone lines connecting me to everyone. As though people don't get on planes to Georgia (well, ok, less chance of that here, I know).

So forgive the smoke, people. It's just little old scaly me. . .