If Ashland was 10 years older...

I know you'll hardly believe me but I finally got out of Birmingham.  It tried its damnedest to get me to stay - my shirt even smells like one aspect of B'ham - but I'm out!

Sorry, Nashville!

It wasn't the worst drive ever since it mostly looked like this:

I made it to Asheville yesterday evening after a very slow start.  After speaking to both Jenny and Justin (friend's of Beau and Jon's who I was supposed to stay with), I was encouraged to try the indian food at Mela for dinner while I waited to meet these supposedly fabulous people whom I'd love.  And, yes, indian food in North Carolina is quite a conundrum but it was as good as anything you'd get in the bay...although that may not be saying much.

Inside the restaurant.

Outside the restaurant.

There was a concert going on in part of the downtown area which inevitably made downtown only pedestrian-accessible because, let's face it, Asheville isn't huge.

Since I've developed such a knack for wandering and doing it in the best of ways, I waited for Jenny by stuffing my face with a mixture of masala, rice, and naan, and trying to finish my very "subtle lavender martini" while trying to avoid the "edible flower" that the bartender insisted I would not regret...

Anyway, once I convinced the bartender that I wanted to slap across the face that I was finished and would not like a box (where am I going to keep leftovers on a road trip - my pocket?), I walked down through the all equally-independent clothing stores clinking along the bricks that hadn't been secured properly with cement.  All of the clinking bricks made me think we were playing with tinker toys but, unfortunately, once you're an adult that is no longer possible and all you think about is stepping on one that is too loose.  Or, as Jenny says happens in the winter, "they're so loose that you step on one and the water practically goes up your underpants!"

I had been told great things about "The Orange Peel" music venue and, seeing as I've been to live music in every city on this trip, I trusted my new friends and decided to go see Chelsea Lynn Labate and the Josh Phillips Folk Festival perform.

I mean...it also helped that I was on the guest list (thank you, Justin!) so it wasn't going to matter much if I didn't like the atmosphere.  Fortunately, you can't go wrong with a draft beer from the South and some music that you can't stop moving to.  Chelsea sounded like Regina Spektor which was an interesting surprise and also influenced my music preference for today's drive...

According to Jenny who knew every soul in Asheville but had a joke for each one we needed to go see some more bands.  I acquiesced only after inwardly pouting that I couldn't dance some more but we were going to see a band that had something to do with aliens at a place called Mo' Daddy's.  How can you go wrong, right?  It wasn't worth it.  I did get a free CD, though.  I cheated on the "nerd quiz" but nobody else had the guts to do it!  If you're present at a "nerd quiz" just answer "Ed Wood" to everything and I'm sure you'll win some goodie.

Then we half-drunkenly moved on to try and catch Justin's little brother's CD release party at another bar that I can't remember the name of.  I never met said brother and actually got stuck talking to people that were arguing about the influence of electrons in the world and how that affects the collective unconscious.  No, that's not a joke so stop asking if I make this crap up for comedic effect.  I was trying to stay alert enough to look at baby picture after baby picture while contributing to a very Asheville-like conversation about freakin' electrons and whether or not it was the "collective unconscious" or the "collective conscious."

That's pretty much how my Asheville visit went.

Jenny and Justin do have the quirkiest house I've stayed in yet...

Jenny on the porch in front of the "walk through thyme" on the "yellow brick road."

Back lounge-y area.

Backyard.

Jenny is an awesome artist...

Or, rather, a quirky one.

Justin played jazz music to wake up in the morning. This means he is accepted as "cool."

Couch that was my bed!

Porch swing that tried to be my night lover.

This morning I missed Jenny as she was very hell-bent on going on a hike.  She told me the secret password was to stand on one foot and she was worried that she'd be the only person in the cafe standing on one foot so she'd order breakfast to seem semi-normal for a bit.  Since Justin and I seemed to have pretty good conversation once he got home in the middle of the night (he runs sound at the Orange Peel), we decided to grab some breakfast.  One lox bagel and two carrot cake pancakes later we had decided that girls always give him the short end of the stick, guys never believe that I actually like musicians' hours (hey, I've got shit to do, too), and that we'd see each other again when he headed up north with the Warped Tour (which he also runs sound for).

Then it was on to DC where I'd be staying with my dad's freshman roommate from college which means he's just incredibly ancient.  Or not.  I thought that comment would make my dad uncomfortable while he reads this blog.  Hey, dad.

Anyway, it was going to be a long drive.  I set off only about 30 minutes late but ran into quite a few storms.  I'm sorry Californians but if you have never experienced storms outside of our beautiful, unique state then you have no clue what I'm talking about.  It doesn't just rain out here.  The drops tumble down to your windshield almost in a contest as to see how obscure they can make the road seem to you.  I started to think, "Hey, it's pouring again! It's like going to the car wash!"  Complete with your car being beaten to a pulp and some invisible presence throwing buckets of water at you in a dare to see how much slower they can make you drive.

At one point I thought I was done so I snapped a picture of this...

...and thought, "Suck it, stupid storm!"  Only to meet up with another one in a few minutes.

After an extra hour in the car that I didn't think I'd have, I started pulling in to Washington, DC.  I realized I was having some major culture shock.  It's not like I've never been to cities like this.  In fact, I've lived in big cities my whole life.  I even moved my fat ass to Madrid for a bit which just happens to be one of the biggest cities in Europe.  But when I saw that carpool lane...oh, man.  What was I going to do?  Could I get in it?  What time was it?  How many people are a "carpool"?

Then I got to Jim and Peter's stunning house in the Palisades near Georgetown...wine?  What's that? You mean it's not brown or yellow?  It doesn't come in a pint glass?  I don't have to cook dinner? I'M ACTUALLY BEING COOKED FOR?!?  None of this makes sense!  Everyone talks to fast!  Everyone walks so quickly!  There are so many cars and things to do and people walking around and my life is going to be nothingbutcitiesfromhereonoutuntilIdon'tknowwhenandthat'sfreakingmeout!









So...I'm in DC.  I've had an official tour of the house I'm staying in, rejected the overly creepy and haunting attic room for the "blue room" that seems to be calming enough except for a woman's ghostly portrait staring at me while I'm sitting calmly and sweetly typing out this entry.  I'm stuffed full of home-grown greens with bacon, shell pasta with onions, garlic, peppers, and whatever else could've been grown here. We had some type of broccoli soup with bread, also.  Everything homemade. Multiple glasses of wine and a calm walk through the neighborhood with overly energetic Lily who doesn't even need a leash.

I didn't know what to do with myself.  It was as if...as if...*gulp*...I was at home.

But not where I wanted to be either.

I guess DC never could've been my home seeing as it was to follow the South on these wanderings of mine.  It just can't live up to everything I've been through in the last few weeks.  So...I'm sorry, DC. We can't be lovers just yet.

Tomorrow I'm going to do a few touristy things before coming back for a pool party of sorts.  Jim and Peter's daughter, Clare, is coming over as well as her two mothers and her grandmother.  The neighbors are coming over, too.  There will be good food.  Although I'm sure that last comment is a bit redundant seeing as it's Jim and Peter.

This culture shock is driving me nuts so I think walking around the city will help me calm down.  I've had quite a change of life happen in the last 2-3 days so I probably just need to settle in again for a bit.  I'll write a more cohesive entry tomorrow night.  I've realized wine doesn't necessarily make me a great writer.

Until then, yes, I'm going to the Library of Congress to be a nerd.