janel's carb-o-palooza at the early girl eatery: mac n' cheese, mashed potatoes, coleslaw, and candied sweet potatoes. i am slowly coming off this sugar rush and it's fucking painful, dude. somebody get me some sugar, stat! i'll eat it from the damn bag!
libbeth's crab cake and fried green tomato napoleon at the early girl eatery. holy crap this was good. i wanted to eat it for her but she's pretty quick and accurate with a fork and i like my fingers attached to my hands.
this is libbeth, saying, "put down that stupid camera, i'm trying to eat." i don't listen very well.
we walked and we ate and we shopped and we ate and she bought 100$ shoes and we ate. it was a good time. asheville is an interesting town. it's sort of like madison, wisconsin, in that nothing is square or plumb or seemed to be laid out with any sort of plan in mind. "hmm, let's build a building and then put a street here and then, oops, dead end and we'll make this a one way and this looks like a great place for a park and nope! you can't enter here - wrong way!" navigating the neat-o neighborhoods was sort of like navigating diagon alley in harry potter (and i do have to give credit to libbeth for that analogy). it was a tiny little street that should have been an alley; barely wide enough to drive. i don't know how people parked. it was awesome. it would have been jolly fun to drive but it appears that the superjanel's driving record precedes her and because of this, libbeth will not allow me to drive in her presence. however, everytime she sees a state patrol/highway cop/city cop/county cop/rent-a-cop/car that resembles a cop she slams on the brakes and screams, "fuck i think i was doing 80!" but who am i to judge...
we browsed some really cool shops. one lured us in with their 8$ shoes only to find 145$ sweaters, which i think is NOT COOL. it was all full of hippie clothing and peace signs and crap, and i'm all down with that, really, i am, but i thought hippies were cheap and poor and into buying into the whole, "this is all natural and made of dirt and sticks and pure cotton and old newspaper and things and i made it in my kitchen sink last month and i've been wearing it everyday since and i know it smells but it just adds to the authenticity of nature, man" thing, instead of, "look at my fantastic peasant skirt made by calvin-fucking-klein." there's just something not right with that. so i've come to the conclusion that asheville is full of rich hippies or boomer hippies whose children have grown up and now they're going back to their flower-child, flowing-skirt wearing ways, except it's a new war and their boobs are all saggy. hey, whatever floats your boat. i'll buy your 8$ shoes if you had my size.
i didn't buy much. i got a couple new journals: one to write in and one that i'll carry around with me that will hold everything that i need to remember but will forget. i believe i have premature alzheimer's. seriously. because i can't remember jack anymore. if i don't write it down, then it's dead to me. it's gotten to the point where i actually say, "i need to write this down" and then i don't, and then later, i'm all, "what was that i was going to write down?" and no one can remember because apparently my condition is terrible and awful and contagious and i am so, so very sorry to all that i have inflicted this upon.
i think my feet stink. i wore slippas today and i think they made my feet stink. i desperately want a pedicure.
only three days until nigel and bob and i are getting skanky drunk. woot.
is it a peach or is it a butt? you be the judge. from here, it almost looks like it's pooping. ew. we passed this on our way home tonight. this isn't my picture, by the way. it was too dark for pictures.
so we missed our turn coming home, which i'm gathering for libbeth is a common thing, but i'm down with it because i dig sightseeing, even at night. this means that we drove a few miles out of our way and through south carolina. i wasn't a geography major - i never even took geography in high school. but let me put this all together for you - this is how ganked up the roads are down here: we started out in north carolina. we took a "wrong" turn and ended up in south carolina. as far as i could tell, coming from the girl with no sense of direction, who wasn't wearing her glasses and wasn't really watching the road (i'm just being honest here) we only turned once (and it wasn't to turn around, der) and then we were back in north carolina and then we were home. what the hell is that all about? how is that even possible? i am so confused. i need to buy a map. if i'm going to move, i need to buy a map and i need to study. i need someone to quiz me. seriously. because i am going to be one lost little girl, calling my mom to google me out of the ghetto.
we watched some kid chase down an old man who tried to steal gas tonight. that was exciting. the old man got in his car and drove off and the kid (who was hot, by the way!) came out of the store and got in his car and chased him down. like 30 seconds later they were both back and the old dude was inside, trying to pay with a bogus card. weird. how do you explain that? "um, oh yeah... i forgot? thanks for coming to ... remind... me?"
i am wearing the worst pair of underpants in the world. no joke. i don't know what happened to these, they're really cute and i like the color, they're pink and white stripes, all hip huggery. but i think they got cooked in the dryer or something because they apparently don't have any elastic in them. and i remember thinking this the first time i wore them but it's gotten progressively worse every time since then. and it's gotten so bad that as we were walking along our little diagon alley today, i was all, "um, i think my underpants are around my ankles and i don't think they go there." it was quite strange. but i'll probably pack them up and take them home because the big dog here likes to go through the trash on occasion and it could possibly traumatizing for all if she were to dig my broken underpants out of the garbage.
i leave on saturday. i don't want to go home. i'm going to go troll myspace for cute boys now. peace out, ninja. :D
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