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the asheville digest
Mar. 16th, 2010 11:53 pmwhen i arrived in asheville just before noon last week, i had done so via 1 bus and 1 train and 2 planes; i had slept quite comfortably on the floor of a women's handicapped bathroom stall between flights (a miscalculated 3+ hour layover in detroit, of all wretched cities), book-ended with immediate slumbers on both flights. asheville was rainy and grey, not much different from what i'm used to: i just missed both snow and blue skies by a matter of days.
the first night in asheville i spent with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
coffeefortwo and firthofforth, an honored request for home-made dinner (my sentimental favorite with them), along with my obvious attempt at bribing two small dogs. with one, NOLA, it was easy enough, and my subsequent days were spent with mad, frenzied licks and ploys for playing ball. radley is a harder sell, and the closest we came to friendship was independent understanding: i'll stand near you, but that doesn't mean i have to like you. fair enough.
i spent the days which followed exploring new-to-me parts of asheville: namely, waterfalls, and the warren wilson college campus. the real jewel of WWC on this said expedition was the (baaaaaaby) aaaanimals, on the campus farm. chickens and roosters, horses, cows, pigs and (most excitingly!) piglets. PIGGIES! we befriended an albino older pig with a phillip seymour hoffman complex, and noted the variance between new-newborn and less-newborn and piglet liters (?) as they varied in size, shape, and activity: wobbily legged first-time walkers; fat and sleep-happy nursers; newborns still under a heating lamp.
i got in a fair amount of beer-tasting for a non-beer-drinker. asheville stakes their claim to rival portland's beer scene/microbrews, so it was very much a when-in-rome sort of arrangement. i emerged from pubs with no real favorites (certainly nothing tastier than my Reliables) but having experienced decent-tasting pints that i did not have to struggle to finish. at jack in the wood every man staredalbertamae and me down, seemingly just for entering. it is hard to not confuse this (half southern friendliness, half small town fascination) as an affront. the thirsty monk was my favorite watering hole, offering all belgian ales downstairs (all other beers upstairs). m. and i got caught in the rain heading home one evening, heavy storms unseen for the past 2 years on the west coast: thunder, lightning, saturating raindrops.
my first night staying withalbertamae (and reuniting with my love, harrison) was a rough one: i played wildly with my favorite dog and paid for it for many hours thereafter. apparently, i am now just as allergic to certain dogs as i am with cats. this, my friends, is one of my worst truths. 4 hours, a shower, allergy meds and a freezing bedroom later, i wheezed and sneezed on until i finally was able to slumber; i still have not completely recovered from that attack, even tonight.
on the night preceding the ani show, we had dinner at the grey eagle, a restaurant and music venue, where a former big H coworker was on tour with a band, working as their Sound Guy. we ate during soundcheck, a loud and demonstrated practice of the same several songs: good in form, heavy on the upright bass and drums. i have no idea what genre was or why i didn't love it, but i did not hate it, and certainly can do no better myself.
the ani show i've covered. the orange peel as a venue is perfectly sized and located. inside hangs an epic metal ceiling fan--industrial sized, enough to create a breeze throughout the entire middle of the room--that is completely and utterly terrifying. yes, i'd like to be cool during shows, but no, i don't want it to go down like that. a massacre.
--
let me talk about the food, lest you think i've been starving my way through the land of the sky. i ate extraordinarily well every day i was in asheville. rich breakfasts at cafes, exceptional soul food sides at a predominantly BBQ joint, CAJUN FOOD (dear lord, crawfish pie, thank you), bacon brown sugar & maple ice cream, california-style burritos. i visited grocery stores and grazed through their Different items, starting a nasty raspberry-yogurt-covered-star-cookie addiction at $9/lb, which i'm currently snacking on. fried eggs and everything bagels. home-made dutch pancakes. regretfully, i ate because there were Exciting Food Options, not because i was hungry, and thus today i'm feeling bogged down and unhealthy. story of my life.
each night i played the nocturnal, though maintaining a "lacking need for sleep" whilst routinely over-sleeping each morning. the time change didn't help: well-intended early mornings of 9am felt like 5am, and needlesstosay, did not happen.
on the night before last, i prepared a meal foralbertamae and firthofforth. nothing fancy, but something tasty (ph0enixinflight's ridiculously good spinach pesto recipe), and sat around drinking good wine, a.'s apple dessert topped with locally-made vanilla ice cream. last night, after downtown shenanigans, m. and i stayed up late giggling through youtube videos, (drunk history, lady gaga, lonely island) and i danced with her dog: front paws in my hands, ears back. w. h. harrison is not a fan of erasure, but i love her all the same.
the first night in asheville i spent with
coffeefortwo and firthofforth, an honored request for home-made dinner (my sentimental favorite with them), along with my obvious attempt at bribing two small dogs. with one, NOLA, it was easy enough, and my subsequent days were spent with mad, frenzied licks and ploys for playing ball. radley is a harder sell, and the closest we came to friendship was independent understanding: i'll stand near you, but that doesn't mean i have to like you. fair enough.i spent the days which followed exploring new-to-me parts of asheville: namely, waterfalls, and the warren wilson college campus. the real jewel of WWC on this said expedition was the (baaaaaaby) aaaanimals, on the campus farm. chickens and roosters, horses, cows, pigs and (most excitingly!) piglets. PIGGIES! we befriended an albino older pig with a phillip seymour hoffman complex, and noted the variance between new-newborn and less-newborn and piglet liters (?) as they varied in size, shape, and activity: wobbily legged first-time walkers; fat and sleep-happy nursers; newborns still under a heating lamp.
i got in a fair amount of beer-tasting for a non-beer-drinker. asheville stakes their claim to rival portland's beer scene/microbrews, so it was very much a when-in-rome sort of arrangement. i emerged from pubs with no real favorites (certainly nothing tastier than my Reliables) but having experienced decent-tasting pints that i did not have to struggle to finish. at jack in the wood every man stared
albertamae and me down, seemingly just for entering. it is hard to not confuse this (half southern friendliness, half small town fascination) as an affront. the thirsty monk was my favorite watering hole, offering all belgian ales downstairs (all other beers upstairs). m. and i got caught in the rain heading home one evening, heavy storms unseen for the past 2 years on the west coast: thunder, lightning, saturating raindrops. my first night staying with
albertamae (and reuniting with my love, harrison) was a rough one: i played wildly with my favorite dog and paid for it for many hours thereafter. apparently, i am now just as allergic to certain dogs as i am with cats. this, my friends, is one of my worst truths. 4 hours, a shower, allergy meds and a freezing bedroom later, i wheezed and sneezed on until i finally was able to slumber; i still have not completely recovered from that attack, even tonight.on the night preceding the ani show, we had dinner at the grey eagle, a restaurant and music venue, where a former big H coworker was on tour with a band, working as their Sound Guy. we ate during soundcheck, a loud and demonstrated practice of the same several songs: good in form, heavy on the upright bass and drums. i have no idea what genre was or why i didn't love it, but i did not hate it, and certainly can do no better myself.
the ani show i've covered. the orange peel as a venue is perfectly sized and located. inside hangs an epic metal ceiling fan--industrial sized, enough to create a breeze throughout the entire middle of the room--that is completely and utterly terrifying. yes, i'd like to be cool during shows, but no, i don't want it to go down like that. a massacre.
--
let me talk about the food, lest you think i've been starving my way through the land of the sky. i ate extraordinarily well every day i was in asheville. rich breakfasts at cafes, exceptional soul food sides at a predominantly BBQ joint, CAJUN FOOD (dear lord, crawfish pie, thank you), bacon brown sugar & maple ice cream, california-style burritos. i visited grocery stores and grazed through their Different items, starting a nasty raspberry-yogurt-covered-star-cookie addiction at $9/lb, which i'm currently snacking on. fried eggs and everything bagels. home-made dutch pancakes. regretfully, i ate because there were Exciting Food Options, not because i was hungry, and thus today i'm feeling bogged down and unhealthy. story of my life.
each night i played the nocturnal, though maintaining a "lacking need for sleep" whilst routinely over-sleeping each morning. the time change didn't help: well-intended early mornings of 9am felt like 5am, and needlesstosay, did not happen.
on the night before last, i prepared a meal for
albertamae and firthofforth. nothing fancy, but something tasty (ph0enixinflight's ridiculously good spinach pesto recipe), and sat around drinking good wine, a.'s apple dessert topped with locally-made vanilla ice cream. last night, after downtown shenanigans, m. and i stayed up late giggling through youtube videos, (drunk history, lady gaga, lonely island) and i danced with her dog: front paws in my hands, ears back. w. h. harrison is not a fan of erasure, but i love her all the same.
