Try Try Try Again
January 3 2019
I have made many efforts to begin a book. Over the coming days I am going to share my top ten most impressive failed attempts. I have usually abandoned the effort a page into the endeavor, exactly like Alexander the Great and other highly accomplished, enterprising souls. This was penned in May 2015.
It is raining outside, and the Chateau’s windows have misted over with droplets of sweet, fresh water from neighboring streams, lakes and rivers in the Dordognian Valley, carefully collected by a thirsty blue sky and deposited by disenchanted clouds. I observed the sky during my drive back from Sarlat to Forge Neuve, and the heavens grew grayer with every terrestrial sip it took to quench its translucent orbicular craving. The ambiance set the tone for a day of writing with the aid of a glass of effervescent champagne. I decided to rise to the occasion, and begin my book, one honest line at a time, yet again. One cannot fail if one does not try after all. So here I am eager as ever to embrace yet another enthusiastic attempt.
Yes it sounds contrived and pretentious to be starting your first book in a commodious Chateau situated on 187 acres of pruned landscape in the Perigord region, on an overcast day, under the influence of bubbly but that is my truth now, and it would be duplicitous to dispute it.
A few days ago, my truth was far less glamorous and far more relatable. I was on a time sensitive hunt for furniture in New York prior to my late night departure to Charles De Gaulle. The urgency for the home shopping was entirely attributed to the expiration of discounts on most of the design items I felt called to, post Memorial Day weekend. It would be criminal to spend three thousand on just a bed frame, yet that is where my elevated tastes had taken me. I wouldn’t ever consider Ikea again, and I tried to settle for West Elm and Pottery Barn. It took me eight hours of running around Chelsea boutique stores and chain retailers to conclude on the potential purchase of two footstools, a coffee table, a bookshelf, a bed and a rug. Due to unforseeable circumstances, such as delivery timelines, availability of inventory and my not being in a position to receive merchandise till the 10th of June (the date my lease on my new place was to take effect) I was only able to purchase a bed frame, and a rug. Out of these two items, the rug was out of stock and could not find expression as a decorative accent in my abode until mid October. So in eight hours of running around like a headless chicken all I had managed to acquire for June 10th was a bed frame, which wasn’t even the whole bed. Vacillating between prudence and pecuniary pragmatism, has starkly paralyzed my purchasing productivity. Say that sentence ten times faster. That’s right, this is an interactive book.
I came to the wise conclusion that, ‘A bed in one’s studio was indeed worth two in store displays’ and A bed frame makes not for a complete bed without the additional acquisition of a headboard and a mattress.’ I knew at this rate I was otherwise you are sleeping on the plywood floor upon moving in.
While it is important to be particular, it is more significant to be present, and present I shall be in limbo with no crib for a bed. For some reason things have refused to align on my first big step in life. Doesn’t life know I am venturing out on my own laying claim to material belongings and leasing a place under my name for the first time ever. Throwing on shackles willingly to prove that I am an autonomous adult? It only took ten years for the system to break me in. I have handed in my freedom, and bohemian ways to be mature, responsible and grounded. However, I did postpone adulthood by impulsively saying yes to this Chateau retreat with complete strangers, a private chef and a whole lot of champagne. I absconded from my trials and tribulations in NYC in style! I often do Peter Pan away to exotic destinations, but to my dismay my insipid problems not only endure my absence well but manage to compound in their nefarious impact to commemorate my return. Oh well, let future Asher deal with that mess, present Asher has been challenged to Champagne pong on a pink float in the heated pool by the cloister and she has compelling plans to drive south to explore some intact sites for prehistoric cave paintings. Present Asher is living the life, good for her. Future Asher is buggered.