Views of my city
Ah my beloved Asheville! Every day I look around and give thanks that I am here. Here's some of the reasons why I love it, in photographic form. More about my exciting life later...
Blue skies on College Street
A rainy day on College Street
County and City Buildings
The view from my favorite parking spot
on top of the Rankin parking deck
The reason why it's my favorite parking deck
My boyfriend
My other boyfriend
The Jackson Building reflected in the Kress window
Christmas wreath waiting to be hung by the S & W
See what I mean? LOVE.
Social butterfly checks back in
My dears, I have been so very busy runinng about that I have not had time to post much! Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.
Here's a couple of the looks you might have seen flashing by on the streets of Asheville:
Look homeward, angel: Signs, portents and stinkbugs
HOLY SHIT Y’ALL I DID IT. I loaded that car as full as I could and drove it all the way down to this lovely little cabin in Far-Veew (how the locals say Fairview) and am probably 75% unpacked and furniture arranged. I am sitting upright in my new bed (well a futon really, thanks to ma soeur Prissy) (no not her given name but she was called that as a child and by me forever).
The important thing is, I am SITTING UPRIGHT IN A BED in my new space and all is well! I am no longer sleeping on the floor like ANIMAL (à la Ivanna Humpalot…da, dahlink.) for the first time in months it seems (since I’d been sleeping upstairs, lately on Coco’s bed). I am surrounded by my stuff, I look over and see Chanel no. 19, pink everywhere, chapeaux, a lace tablecloth on my new work table, pink roses, sunshine and the glorious mountains outside.
And look what was greeting me on my very first evening here!
I subscribed to the wifi-hotspot thingy where my phone (my pressssscioussss) sets itself up as a modem or somesuch and I get beautiful fasssst wirelessssss internet, bitches! We loves the Internets. No, we HATES the Internets...no, we LOVES them, pressscioussss.
It was $20 a month on top of our regular bill and I signed up for it in a leap of faith, swearing to the Universe and C. (in absentia, of course) that I’d make it back and if I were to go to Starbucks every time I needed internet I’d spend that much a month on coffee out of guilt anyway and I NEED internet access if I am really going to run a business.
And lo and behold, as soon as I hung up the phone my dearest darling friend Miranda (or Do, as she is better known to you, my Glorious Reader, N. B. that’s pronounced Doe like Do-Re-Mi-Fa, etc., not Doo like Poo...
ANYWAYS, Glorious Reader, on the phone was blessed beautiful Do asking if I’d like to come in for an interview at the Kress Emporium for a flexible, one or two day a week job paying $8.00 an hour. Um, HELL YES…..Plus WOOOO of course.
For of course you must know that the Kress E. Mart is only the most fab and perfect venue for mes chapeaux…And a foot in the door is a foot in the door, and $8 x 7 = 54 times four = 212 Dolla Bills Y’all per month.. Especially if they like me and love me which they will, I will make sure!
WOOOOOOOOOOOO! Another supersonic cry, this one of triumph and delight. Glasses breaking, dogs howling, etc.
So the trip itself was good, I only took a wrong turn once (at Pittsburgh, accidentally got routed off to 279, quickly fixed though). I left Tuesday morning at 10:15 and I made it in exactly twelve hours and a few minutes; sadly when I arrived the landlord (Tim Hoogle, not Boogle) was there rushing through a perfunctory bathroom scrub (it was still filthy) and so I had to chat with him for thirty minutes or so while he wrapped up. AND all his stuff was still in piles all around, effectively preventing me from installing my new studio. Rahr. To say the least.
Avert thine eyes, ye Faint of Heart!
Then, to add injury to insult, it turns out that I’d forgotten to bring, O, only the MOST IMPORTANT FUCKING PART of the blowup mattress, the AIR PUMP. Mo-ther-fu-cker. So I had to sleep on the floor again, like ANIMAL for one more night. Luckily I had brought plenty of sheets and towels and blankets with which to pad my derrière, etc. so I was not uncomfortable, Dear Reader, thank you for worrying. I slept the sleep of the righteous, in fact, or at least the sleep of one in the right place at the right time. Righteous, yeah, that’s it.
Pris came over the next day bearing futon, chairs, seating poufs, tables, all sorts of goodness and for the next few hours she and I unloaded, arranged, set up and tightened stuff up. It really helped; for one of the Stellar Qualities She Already Posesses (link later) is her ability to magically clean/organize/set up a space in what seems like no time. More photos later, I promise.
That would NOT do, for Lord’s sake!
So the Universe has been sending me all sorts of signs and portents that this is the right thing at the right time, most notably the job interview described above and the full moon; here is a small visitor that landed on my car that first morning as I begun to unload. S/he was singing at the top of his/her little bird lungs, welcoming me!
I have found lots of pennies around, always a good sign.
And after spending literally 45 minutes scrubbing in the bath (yes I timed it, bitches) this charming creature greeted me on the lip of the sink.I must have disturbed his lair somehow.
Interlude: An aside, and a visit from Our Editor, Ed:
May I herein apologize (but not much) for my Overuse of Capital Letters. I find it Rather Charming, actually. So if any Boorish Readers (Virgos, presumably) are Affronted, let me be the first to get the screen door to hit them on the ass on the way out. If it’s good enough for Samuel Pepys (Pls. check this ref. –Ed. P.S. It’s good to see you again!), it’s good enough pour moi. And so to bed. Wait…
Ahem. Back to our regularly scheduled Signs and Portents: The Biggest One
At some point during the second day once I started feeling a bit more settled and such, I stood in the sunlight and made a Sacred Vow to the Universe, thanking It for allowing me to be here and Promising in No Uncertain Terms to KICK ASS and Take Advantage of All the Benefits Procured by the Same Herein. I sealed it with a big ol' WOOOOOOOO (as is my wont) and went on with my chores.
A few hours later I came upon this, and as to how it got there? Your splanation will do as well as mine.
STEP AWAY FROM THE VALENTINES and nobody gets hurt.
Despite the fact that I am leaving Fredtown in 36 hours or so (LOOK OUT AVL), I was compelled to break out the Valentine Box O'Doom. Or Joy, depending.
So! Much! Fun! I can hardly stand it. I heated up Ye Olde Glue Gun and set to.
Here are some of my favorites from years past:
I like to take romantic passages from vintage magazines (in this case, a Peterson's ladies magazine from the 1840s! Scha-WIIIING.)
Here's a more recent vintage redux. I beleive it was an Air France ad that also featured a pink sparkling wine. O, flying was so much more chic-er back in the day.
Well, I never! Sorry, sir, this is a family subtle classy blog that describes in juicy detail only alludes to naughtiness.
And perhaps the pinnacle of my Valentine brilliance so far:
The inside reads thusly:
That goes double for you, Cherished Reader. Do you have any brilliance planned for the pinkest of holidays? Tell me everything.
tour de Valentine
More Valentine's madness. I can't quit it!
Me and my mantel:
A lovely Swedish mobile I found at a yardsale:
A lovely pink beaded coaster from Target:
Valentine's Decor, Villains, Jesus, A Disgusted Cat and Mid-Century Pottery
So you all know already how much I love Valentine's day, yes? Well, if not, allow me to make my case as follows.
Exhibit 1:
This year's Valentine's Tree. Not even my best one!
I prefer a white tree, actually, like this one from 2008.
Exhibit 2:
This year's Shelving Mayhem, and assorted closeups.
My Amazingly Awesome Art Teacher, Ms. Pritz, did the block print above. If you look at each spoke of the snowflake, you'll notice that it is a mirror image of the word LOVE.
SEE!?!?! HOW COOL is THAT?!?
Here's a lovely pink peacock planter plaque.
Marked USA, it usually hangs on the wall.
Looks to me like he has a twirly handlebar moustache.
("I can't pay the rent..." "You must pay the rent!" *twirls moustache* *evil guffaw*)
Ahem.
The "Love is work" sketch was done by my dear departed friend and artist Vadim Bora.
The cat, however, remains unimpressed.
She's not really sure if Jesus celebrated Valentine's Day.
Au contraire, ma chatte chere!
Exhibit 3:
Buddy Christ and his Valentine's Gift to You!
So I think I've made my case for my incurable Valentine mania. I'll include more details about my Rather Impressive Collection of Pink Planters in another post.
Ciao for now, bella!
What's in a name? A rose, etc...
Simone is actually my middle name. In high school we had to pick French names for French class, and one would think that Simone would be perfect but I preferred Claudine after a favorite literary character. My French teacher smirked and said, "that's an old lady name but suit yourself."
I used my first name until I planned a long trip to Paris and decided that the French pronunciation of "sha-ROHN" (Sharon) would be too ugly and switched to Simone, et voila! My whole personality seemed to coalesce around it and everyone I knew immediately started using it, saying I was definitely more of a Simone. When I later asked my mom how she came up with my name, she told me that her best friend in high school was named Sharon and that my dad wanted to name me after a French...dancer...he'd "briefly dated" in Paris.Her gracious and gratifying response?
i love simone. it fits you perfectly. it's classy with a little bit of naughty edge, which is you in a nutshell!
Now what? Here's what: a Rather Large (and perhaps Shocking) Announcement.
Wow.
I just rented the studio space at 61 Rosebud Lane in Fairview (for six months, at least) starting on February 15.
I am sure Julie has something to say about me being weirded out by the money situation. I still feel so Not Entitled, and like I should be Doing Things Around The House to make up for my Shocking Lack of Consideration and Budgetary Sluttishness. (Is that true, dear?) Probably not, but objectivity is not one of my stronger skill sets.
The whole reason I am going there (well a LOT of it) is that it’s really difficult for me to make a living selling chapeaux (monsters and Everybody wonder how I ever got the idea that I could even ever do that) here in Fredtown. And I know I could sell a lot more on a regular basis in Asheville.
Of course there’s the whole other component to it, The Thing That Shall Not Be Named At This Time. Just a year or two ago I was so uncomfortable with even admitting that there was this Thing that I wrote pages and pages of "a novel" (sixty or so if I am not mistaken) under a pseudonym and in the third tense.
Gads! Egad! Mon Dieu! God Almighty and all the other exclamations I can think of. It’s a little scary.
Also I got my period today, which makes me think that perhaps my body DOES know what’s best for me. Right now all I’d like to do is just climb under the covers and sleep for a weekend or so. I could not sleep last night (from 2-3:30 or so) and worked out pretty hard today.
God, the snow has been so beautiful for the last few days! We got at least another foot and a half and this last batch was the lovely crystallized fluffy snow, so perfect that it looks like the fake snow that glistens down onto ballerinas in Swan Lake and the Nutcracker. I wanted to get photos but was a bit late this AM. Tomorrow I want to also try to get the crows recorded well and some more photos.
UPDATE: I SENT THE CHECK!
Now what? Doors and windows keep slamming shut
Okay, y’all, shit just got real. And by real I mean UGH, see above. What’s that, Dear Reader? O. I thought you knew because you’d heard of the scream that is so loud I have not even been able to utter it, that C. Did. Not. Get. A. Sabbatical. And when I DO utter it it will be frigging ultrasonic and in a range that will make dogs howl and glass break.
Now what? Now fucking what? Do I have to make this decision? UGH! And again, I say, re-UGH I mean rejoice.
Kind of hard to see the rejoice in it all right now. What I bet will happen is that he’ll come home some evening this week and say let’s take the summer and go to AVL just for that time, and if I can make it work during that time I will just stay. So nothing has changed for me? Is that what I am thinking/saying/hoping? I don’t really know. Hell, I am kind of in shell shock right now.
So I’m not going to the Bahamas, I’m not going to Puerto Rico and C. did not get his sabbatical. What’s with the fucking monkey wrenches, Universe? I thought I was going to be able to get through this with a minimum of pain and ick and hassle.
I have zero income right now. I do have a new bonbons website up but have not put “buy” buttons on it yet. I have lots of stuff to sell but would really rather not have to put every single goddamn piece up myself, specially since I do NOT have…what? An ebay site? Do I need one? I wonder if I should start a Twitter/blogosphere appeal site or something.
GetmyassoutofFredtownandintoAsheville.com. Bet that domain is available.
I’d rather establish a retail spot somewhere in AVL. Or do just frigging hats there and come back here for the lilacs and violets.
FUUUUUUCCCCK. Seriously, God, Universe, Angels, Masters, Jesus, Mary, Joseph and All Fucking Saints, Cosmic Spaghetti and Chocolate Chip Muffin Gods, What the FUCK?
The only thing stable in my tenuous grasp of control is my workouts.
I keep dreaming about A.; last night we were taking a dance class. It was the tail end of the ONE time I’ve ever dreamt that I would make the plane to Paris on time (my usual stress dream). So I arrive with an hour or two to spare and go to a dance studio/gym on Biltmore in AVL where A. is waiting for me in dress clothes and slightly scuffed brown wingtips. We start to work out the motions of the dance and I go to my suitcase for something and realize it is COMPLETELY EMPTY, except for a small black something that may be a skirt or scarf, I can’t remember. So A. tells me, pouting a little, that I can just do the first twenty minutes of the class, and leave if I need to, and I realize at the same time that I can buy clothes in Paris.
WHAT DOES IT MEAN!?!?!
Name dropping, Star Wars, cute kittens and large bullocks
I am not here.
It's Sunday, and I am not here. Let me rephrase that:
Waaaaaahooooooo I am NOT in church mothafuckas! O Hai, Jesus, just kidding. Church is everywhere every day, right? RIGHT?!?
I am still not sure if I am going to Puerto Rico next weekend. I hope she will Get Her Shit Together and Make a Decision Soon.
Because for some reason I (or my monsters) seem to think I can’t Get Anything Done unless I have Large Bullocks Blocks of Un-Interrupted Time. Actually I think the former is more correct-er, I need to follow JBT’s advice (or was it Thor?) and Just Fucking Do It.
Do what, I wonder? Hats, blog, bonbons, all of the above? Declutter? Sell shit online? Learn how to pole-dance AND do yoga every day? In addition to my regular work with Delisssioussss Anibal?
Ugh. I am just not very motivated to create anything here! Here, being Fredonia. Or this bedroom/boudoir. Luckily it's Sunday and I usually get my self ready for another week somehow without noticing.
I suppose the key is to be a FlyBaby and get the fuck up out of bed and get dressed and Do It, and, here’s the key, WITHOUT checking email, Twitter and/or horoscopes until after I’ve Accomplished Something Admirable, or Something Productive, or both. And also I need to write, but the problem with that is that I often get derailed by all the rabbit holes that conveniently appear in front of me (as Willie H. calls it, Kitten Videos) if I do these pages in this format, i.e. on the computer.
I did do morning pages in the book the other day and I THINK I got a significant amount done, but it’s hard to say as I am not really sure what day it was. I have done a few things this week, including:
- · Worked out (with cardio!) Sunday. Monday. Tuesday. Wednesday. Thursday. Friday. BITCHES!
- · Got Christmas down, Valentines up, except finishing the Valentine’s tree. Thanks, Randy.
- · I think I wrote most days, let me check. Every other day, 15, 17, 19. 21, 23. Pretty good start!
- · That’s all.
· That is not all, I also lived and bathed and slept and hung out a bit with C. and read emails, etc. and yes, WATCHED KITTEN VIDEOS. I'll wait.
I actually unsubscribed to the FlyLady emails, it was taking WAY too much time and I have a lot of stuff coming in daily already. I hope that will help me get a little more streamlined. I have been fly-washed pretty good and if I need tune-ups I can check the book or the site.
I think what I really need is Time Management Skills. Not so much business advice, not personal coaching, or shrinking, (not that I DON'T need those things) but first
Time.
Frigging.
Management.
Skills.
I wish I could Star Wars font that and scroll it across the page in giant 95 point type.
So I suppose I could spend a little time with Chuck Gilkey and see what he has to say. Luckily I just bought the year calendar set so I really actually COULD use the tools he provides without spending any more money.
OH BOY did my monsters just get nervous about that! They want coffee, water, more blankets, ANYTHING BUT THAT….
Perhaps that means we need to spend a little time checking that out then! They will do 15 minutes, though. Apparently that’s not enough time to Get Anything Done, much less Anything Admirable and Productive. (hahahaha, says FlyLady. We’ll show them! )
And what else? Hooray, M. is back! I picked her up at the airport and we spent the day hanging out. It was fun, and I laughed a lot. She is like a trapped dog in a cage about her new boyfriend, and I use that term advisedly. She is the boy and he is the girl, emotionally; it is so fascinating to hear her take on the whole Venus-Mars thing. If I ever need to figure out how men think, I just ask her and she tells me.
So that’s good. I am glad to have someone to hang out with. I may start messing with my sleep phases so I can stay up later and play more often. JBT seems to be getting a lot done, and my days in Denton as a first-shift waitress at the Sheraton (at work at 5:30 A.M.!) where I napped every afternoon seem clear and pristine in my memory.
I am getting REALLY tired of not knowing my travel plans for the next few days. I suppose I should just assume that we are not going until I am notified otherwise. My bags are packed, I am sure she’ll give me at least 24 hours notice and I can double check to make sure that I have everything I need. It is Rather Annoying, though, as I’m sure you’ll agree.
