The air is sticky here, not like the dry clean air of Colorado, or the sea level smog of New York City. But only sticky after it rains, as it does like clockwork right around 3 or 4 in the afternoon. According to my boss at the Pack Place, Asheville qualifies as a tropical rainforest. I can see why that would be the case; today on a long walk down to Carrier Park (during which Hilary and I bickered the entire time about which direction we were going) I think we saw more green than exists in the entire state of Colorado. It's beautiful -- in an attempt to find the promised bike path from Hominy Creek, we walked across a bridge that said "Bridge Closed" (I figured it didn't mention pedestrians, and thus was free for our feet), and looking down the river with the incredible masses of green on the sides -- wow.
I wanted to sit outside and watch it rain -- we barely beat the rain on our way home from the walk -- but got distracted (damn the internet!). I caught the tail end of it; something about sitting on the porch and watch the rain fall, quietly safe under the eave of the house with a steaming mug of tea (with milk and sugar), maybe with a book to read --- my hopelessly romantic soul finds that incredibly attractive. Anyway, it's no longer raining, and the tea was drunk already, so there you have it and that's that.
(The generic brand cheerios from the grocery store are impossibly addicting. I will have to exercise an incredible amount of self-control to keep from eating the entire box.)
Very good news: we finally have a move in date for the apartment, Sunday. I believe Janet (the woman we are staying with) will be able to take us there, along with our luggage. Hopefully our other Asheville friend will be able to drop off our boxes as well, because not only does she have all of my cooking supplies, but she is giving us a futon and a card table. With those pieces, we will have exactly two pieces of furniture. (Hint: If you know people in Asheville, tell them we want their unused furniture!!!) Hilary gets the futon, I get the air mattress. The rest of the time, we camp. It's not ideal, but such is life until we can cobble together enough money to get something else, or get our friend to drive us to the Habitat for Humanity and buy a cheap couch or something. We have yet to discover if we'll have internet, somehow managing to forget to ask anytime we have the landlady on the phone.
Hilary just got a second job, and I have an interview tomorrow morning for a second job myself. Things progress, move on, somehow we seem to find things when we stop looking. I wouldn't say things have fallen into our laps; we've beat the pavement like anyone else, but at least some of those seeds have sprouted, a bit.
Speaking of jobs, yesterday was my first day at one of those jobs, doing ticketing/box office work for the theatre complex downtown. It's not a lot of hours and it doesn't pay particularly well, but it's all good training and at least it's something, so I can't complain. Besides, I need to know it all for when I'm running my Dad's as-of-yet-in-the-works production company, so I don't mind. First day on jobs are always slightly stressful, because it's all new and you don't want to screw up, especially considering the sole reason I got this gig is because I go to Columbia and my boss is a Columbia alum and couldn't say no to helping out a fellow Columbian. I never filled out an application or anything like that, so I'm running on the good name of the Core curriculum and an Ivy League education, and really hope I don't screw it up.
(I can't see any reason why I would. But still.)
(My god, no wonder I can never blog. I think I've been working on this entry for at least an hour. But I have an excuse, I've been chatting with a friend on facebook. Have to keep up connections ya know, especially since I'm disappearing off the face of the planet for a year. Okay, it's just across the pond, not another planet, but you know what I mean).
Anyway, I did go contra dancing on Monday night, despite my hemming and hawing the contrary, and yes, it was a lot of fun. I didn't sit down for a single dance, managed to attract a few creepers, convince several people I was actually experienced at this, get a LOT of raised eyebrows and people searching for nice ways to ask "Why are you here?" upon hearing that I go to school in NYC, and get walked home by an incredibly good dancer and southern gentleman. No one will ever accuse me of having a boring life, I guess.
More updates to come; for now I will go find new and spectacular ways of killing time.
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