the new move?

so...as i mentioned before, nyc might be out of the question for now. during my recent trip to upstate ny, some friends and i talked about it, and turns out that they want to move down south. so...i really, really want to move to the city. but if a few of the people that are nearest and dearest to me want to move down here...then i could surely try that out. i mean, my friends are the most important thing to me. i love my family and all...but they don't really get kicks out of an alcoholic who dives off waterfalls. they would prefer me to chill and make babies...and that's just not going to happen. also...we were all thinking about moving to asheville...and that's an awesome city.

today i sent these friends an email, and now it's going here...mainly because i didn't write anything else today because i was really busy. but also because it's a story from a trip i took to asheville a couple of years ago, and i love to reminisce.

I couldn't go to sleep last night for 2 reasons:

A. I was sober
B. I am like a child who gets excited about things and then thinks about them all night and last night, since Caroline was the last person I talked to before trying to sleep and we talked about Asheville (of course)…well, moving was on my mind.

I know we were griping about how the men aren't going to stay focused. So, because I am probably the most persistent person you will ever meet, you are each going to get a "reason to move to Asheville" email every day that I am at work. So…that's roughly 107 days until the move…obviously vacation days and weekends are not included because on the weekends and during my vacations (during which I will be with you guys for the most part) I will harass you face to face. Wow. If I got an email like this I would probably think, "this bitch is retarded". Oh but wait…I kinda am.

REASON #1 TO MOVE TO ASHEVILLE
The bums are super cool.

One weekend my friend Tanner and I went to Asheville. It was snowy and cold and we tied on a buzz like no other. In downtown Asheville there are buildings that have glass foyers that you can go in even when all the interior businesses are closed. So on this night when we left the bar at closing time we decided to hang out in one of the foyers. Tanner and I like to sing in harmony-usually Christmas carols when it's nowhere near Christmas. So, we started singing and realized that the acoustics in this little human aquarium were AWESOME. So we sang and sang. There were railings that I walked on like tight ropes which resulted in a lot of bruising (imagine that).

In walks this bum who says, "you got $2.12"? Tanner and I tell him yes but we want to know what he needs it for. So he explains that there is this gas station down the road where you can get 2 hot dogs, a bag of chips and a soda for $2.12. We are very impressed by this insane deal so our drunk asses talk about it for at least 4 minutes. We asked the bum all kinds of questions. So wait, you get 2 hot dogs, a bag of chips AND a soda? Are you sure you just don't get one hot dog and a bag of chips and a soda OR 2 hot dogs and a soda? Do they have chili? Are the buns warm? Are they GOOD hot dogs? How do they make any money…I mean, I know hot dogs are cheap but when you factor in chili, relish, ketchup, mustard, onions, buns…not to mention chips and a soda...

Finally we tell the bum that we will give him the money if he listens to us sing "The Rose" in harmony, like having us play 20 questions wasn't enough torture to endure. I mean…any bum in Charlotte would have spit on us by this point…seriously. So, he responds saying that he would love to hear us sing and that he LOVES that song. And we are like, um…you know that song? It turns out he was thinking of a completely different song. We finish singing and he appears to be impressed. I guess he thought that the $2.12 was riding on whether or not he complimented our skills. But then…just when you think the torture is over, I scream, "wait!! Now listen to us sing Going to the Chapel". Oh my god. I should have been put in bed by this point…and the bum should have already been enjoying a hot dog or two. When we were done the guy was all excited and was like, "you guys are engaged, congratulations". Tanner and I played along and I talked about plans to have 7 children and live on the side of an active volcano. He might have been the nicest and most patient man on the face of the earth. Either that or he was REALLY, REALLY hungry.

The point is this: If you are going to live somewhere that there are bums (so, like basically anywhere) then it might as well be a place where the bums are cool.

meadows vs bodegas

since deciding to move to nyc, friends and family members have questioned this decision. they just don't get it. and that's fine. i don't really get it either. i know i love it there. i know i (sometimes) hate it here. but with me it's somewhat of a catch 22 because i love the hustle and bustle, the millions of strangers, the ability to get everywhere you need to go by foot or through the use of public transportation. but, at the same time, i LOVE a big front porch, a lawn to lie in, camping, hiking, staring at the stars while having a somewhat philosophical discussion with anyone who will join in. so WHY move to the cluster fuck that is nyc?

i came across this article of why the author chooses to stay in the country. so, to clear up the confusion for those of you who wonder why the fuck i would want to move to a place like nyc, i will respond to each of his reason's for keeping it rural. maybe that will get you off my back.

Elbow Room

Living in a fishbowl is comforting to some, claustrophobic to others. Ask urbanites why they flee the city for the country and most will cite the reason folks like me have never left: open space. Ironically, open space is disappearing at an astonishing rate as people rush to grab their share of it. Despite that, there's still enough elbow room to easily walk in the woods with the dog, cross-country ski or sled with the kids, or run to the clothes line bare-assed before work—all, and more, because out here you can.

i don't really care about elbow room, unless we are talking about in my bed. most places that i like to hang out bring about a crowd, so i have just gotten used to it. if elbow room was that big of an issue i would never again attend a football game or concert, or go to a bar. not to mention, the adirondacks are not far at all. i can hop on a train and meet up with friends any time i feel overwhelmed by the shoulder to shoulder.

Slower Pace

You can tell someone's from the city by the way they drive. If they're on your bumper, bearing down, it's a dead giveaway that they're “not from around here,” or at least are carrying metro-baggage. On the old roads that rarely see traffic, you really can slow it down, take it all in. What, after all, is the rush?

i can't fucking stand the slower pace. the slower pace is for people who need walkers. it's not always that you are in a rush, just that there are thousands of things you could be doing other than driving your car behind someone in their old-ass ford truck who is winding down the 2 lane road slow enough to pass on bicycle.

Neighborliness

With so many stores, public transportation, and hired help nearby, urbanites have nearly everything they need to live "independently." And even in the country, as technology creeps into our lives, more than ever people can drive right by their neighbors without ever knowing them. But when the chips are down, when the car is in the ditch, when you run out of firewood, when the power's out and you need a shower, it's your neighbor helping you out. You know them out here, probably because you've had to be there for each other numerous times, and will be many times again.

neighbors are what you make of them. i live in an apartment building uptown, reminiscent of a college dorm. i like to keep a distance, but when i am locked out, no one ever spits on my face because we live in an urban environment. and i like to keep neighbors at a distance anyway...if you let them get to close they will be at your door with every excuse in the book (um, i need a bobby pin) just because their nosey asses want a glimpse into your life. next thing you know (in this rural area with one church and one bar) the fact that you answered the door on a tuesday night with a glass of whiskey on the rocks will be turned into soap opera drama. it will be accompanied by hushed whispers and dirty looks each time you walk into the fucking grocery store. my grandmother used to tell us shit about people we had never seen before...ugh.

Air Quality

Sure, if you have pollen allergies and/or the smell of cow manure offends, maybe country life is not all deep breaths. But medical studies show that asthmatics fair much better withdrawn from urban environs, where vehicle pollution contributes to respiratory difficulty and a host of other problems. Breathe enough of our clean air—agricultural or natural smells aside—and you're bound to get used to it, especially when you open your windows to welcome a morning or evening breeze.

i will die tomorrow of an asthma attack before i will ever live somewhere that a cow-shit farm is in my nose's reach. and i have my window open right now...the breeze is wonderful.

Setting

Norman Rockwell has left the building, but his ideal of country life didn't expire with him. So long as rolling fields speckled with livestock or laid over with waving wheat remain, so too does the simple lifestyle built around them—or at least the illusion of that lifestyle. Enough so that aside from the cell phone in their pockets anchoring them to modern reality, country people can still fake being backwater. While texting the grocery list from home, of course.

when i think of the country setting i think of simple (minded) people. i know this is not always the case...but i like to walk outside and be on a sidewalk and mosey around uptown and have my choice of everything to do. driving 20 miles to the nearest grocery store, bar, or friend's house would drive me nutty-not to mention probably result in a dui. plus, people, no matter how fucking ignorant or brilliant, intrigue me. too much alone time (and i strictly mean time by myself, not time without a partner or friend) makes me crazy.

Star Gazing

Having trouble picking out Orion from Soldier Field? Where I live, the houselights across the valley sometimes blend right in with the stars, and most clear nights we can see the full band of the Milky Way.

this is his best argument as far as i am concerned. but it's just like the beach. when i lived there i walked to the ocean every single day, but it wasn't as fascinating as it had been my whole life. now, going to the beach to see friends is fun and more exciting than going to see land-locked friends because i don't get to enjoy the beach every day.

Crime

It's a problem everywhere, and meth and other drug-related violence is on the rise in rural America. Still you're more likely to get hit by lightning than be mugged while taking a nightly stroll down a moonlit dirt road. And even if you were to get hit, you'd spend a lot less time worrying about it beforehand.

if i was worried about crime i would live my life in a cinder block home with no windows and no doors, and then i would die within a week or so. and the really nutty fucks live in rural areas too...i would rather be mugged than throw into a cellar and forced to live off my toenails and dog urine while some psycho raped me thursday.

Roots

Roots are the real reason I'm here. My daughters are the eighth generation to live on our defunct farm. For some reason, it seems, roots penetrate better in warm earth than in concrete. The same goes for newcomers to the country. After all these millennia, it's somehow more permanent to make a stand in the dirt than in a 12th-story townhouse. But that's just my take.

i guess i should move to brooklyn or italy if it's a case of where your roots are. well, my dad grew up in the south but his parents are dead and they totally lived that extreme rural life on a farm that i can't stand.

scared little yuppies

i made a list of reasons that i am moving to nyc, two of them being that charlotte isn't that great. i should have said that charlotte sucks. so why not start pointing out the reasons? yeah, i thought that was a great idea too.

i live uptown. living uptown is great except for the fact that it's like a miniature version of an actual city and about 90% of the people you see are yuppie bankers, another 5% are yuppie engineers, 4% are bums, and 1% are between the ages of 25-33 and don't base their lives around what mtv tells them is great. but there are a wide variety of bars and that is something i can never complain about.

coyote ugly bumps up to our small ass parking lot. i have never gone in there, although i could literally jump out of the window and land on their roof, basically because i don't really have a desire to rest my arms on a bar that someone's shoes have been on (i am kind of a germaphobe). oh, and i don't like to watch half naked girls dance either.apparently coyote ugly is moving to another location...just a few blocks away. i can see why. it's more of a centralized location (if that really matters when you consider that 'uptown' spans all of 9 blocks running north/south and about 8 blocks running east/west). but of course, all the anal retentive, right wing, rich, bible beating, "we hate gays and jews and blacks" yuppies have a problem with this.

the ivey's building is mentioned in this article. i stare at the ivey's when i sit on the patio of brick & barrel enjoying some afternoon beverages. do you know what i see? a building that has a bojangles and chinese buffet in the lobby...the lobby that anyone can enter. there is no doorman. i have wandered through it several times. i also commented to jarrett the other day, as we were passing the side of the building that faces 5th, that right outside that building is the only place that charlotte smells like a big city (and by that i mean a combination of piss and greasy food).

so here's my point: these assholes in this building with their nice, expensive ass condos are worried about coyote ugly moving to a corner of their building. meanwhile, they cannot open their windows without filling their homes with the smell of day old fried cat, or walk downstairs to check the mail without stepping over a couple of passed out smelly fucks. and let me not fail to mention the fact that it's taking the place of DADDY'S. it's not like there was a fucking daycare there. LIGHTEN UP OR MOVE TO THE BURBS.

never say never

my mom used to always tell me that shit. of course i would always tell her to fuck off. well, not really because then she would have back-handed me into the wall, but my stubborn ass always thought the "never say never" bullshit was retarded.

i always said i would NEVER move to nj. an ex of mine is a new jersey native and we had discussions about it in the past. actually, it was more like him saying i should move up there and me telling him that i would sooner rip my toenails off one by one. and now i would like to eat my words.

so, as you know i am moving to nyc. the dilemma is that i don't want to look for jobs until i get up there, but the possibility of getting an apartment without proof of income would be like convincing a guy that i am a virgin while he's fucking me for the 12th time. therefore, the ex suggested i just move in with him until i get all my shit together.

the details aren't worked out. it's really hard to find time to talk to him during NHL playoffs. and i'll give him that. i mean, if it was football season i would cuss him out if he texted me during a game. who knows if this is a good idea. and who really cares. the point is, i am fucking moving to one state that i swore i would never, EVER reside in...even as a temporary solution.

and while i am talking about old boyfriends, i just saw one walk out of my building. if that asshole lives here i might as well jump out of the window right now, like another crackhead did when cops showed up at his door last year.

and speaking of windows, sitting by them is dangerous. in recent nights i have seen a new resident of the building come home so tanked that he is horizontal in the backseat of the cab. the first time it happened the cab driver dragged him out, dug his hand in the guys pocket for the fare, then tried to help him inside. except, the cabbie wasn't strong enough, so who comes in to help him? that's right, 2 bums off the fucking street. leave it up to the drunk without any friends to hand over keys to the building. they were literally all inside for about 30 minutes. if the guy wasn't anally raped he was definitely robbed.

i wonder if he was the person who spewed diarrhea all over the stairwell. i was leaving for work one day and just barely opened the door to the stairs when the stench hit me like a fucking brick wall. i gagged the whole way to the elevator, down the shaft, and to my car. i still haven't been able to go in the stairwell since. i think i am seriously traumatized. my roommate tried to convince me that the smell has dissipated, but i just can't trust that.

crossing the mason-dixon

as mentioned 80 times already, i am moving to new york. it's something i have thought about for a while, and have always wanted to do, but never thought i could afford.

here are my top 25 reasons for this decision (in no particular order):

1. i won't need a car

2. i won't have a car payment

3. i won't have to pay for gas

4. i won't have to deal with mechanics

5. relocating is fun

6. i will be closer to tons of my yankee friends

7. i go up there about 4 times a year already

8. southerners get on my nerves

9. i like being in places where no one knows who the fuck i am

10. charlotte isn't that great

11. i need a change

12. charlotte isn't that great (oh, did i already say that?)

13. there is more culture

14. there is more to do

15. i want to stay on the east coast (for now)

16. i am only 28

17. i have no ties where i am

18. my student loans will soon be paid off

19. my job is getting on my fucking nerves

20. i like big cities

21. it's a great place for people who don't want kids

22. i will enjoy the snow

23. i can find a deli with my eyes closed

24. i enjoy the atmosphere

25. because i fucking want to

and just a couple of footnotes:

to all the people who love to tell me how expensive rent is and how expensive everything else is: you aren't my fucking financial advisor. notice that without reasons 1-4 i would have roughly about $2800 in my bank account right now...JUST FOR THIS YEAR. so, $700/mth. and the next person who brings up the price of drinks at the bar is going to be slapped. this nose can sniff out beer specials, and have found many each time i visit.

to everyone who thinks that a southern belle can't make it in the big city: wake the fuck up. other than the accent and the geographical location in which i reside, i would sooner be classified as a nazi than a southern belle. (not that i have any beef w/ jewish people...just saying it's a fucking stretch).

to those who feel the need to warn me of how dangerous it is: in my years of living in the south (all my life), i have had a gun held to my head, a crackhead crawl through my window, a run-in with a strange man in high school that had my name written all over the cave he probably has under his house, and those are just the ones i will list here. so shit can happen anywhere. all the criminals in america don't reside in manhattan.

to my northern friends-see ya soon!

to my supportive friends-thanks for being aware that i don't need anyone to decide what is best for me...or thanks for realizing that this probably is what's best for me. you always have a place to crash!