About Nashville

Nine months in, this is what I have learned about Nashville thus far...

Each street has at least three names, one of which might be a number. Confusing? Yes.

Nashville is very much about music, and while it has a lot of country spots, it's not as country as I thought it would be.

There are very few line dancing bars, the ones we do have are as follows:
Wild Horse: very family friendly, they bank on tourism
Whiskey Dix: outside of city center about 35-40 minutes, college bar for the most part, two rooms, country and hip hop, free cover for ladies before 10pm AND free long necks until 11
Silverados: Underneath a bridge about 20 minutes from city center, not in the best neighborhood BUT they play older country until about 10:30 and then they mix some hip hop/pop in, $8 cover and free long necks until 11

Broadway will either dazzle or repel you. Give it some time, a portion of your money (they thrive with tourism) take a drink or two, and you won't be able to help but love it at least a little.

McKay's is where you want to be for used books and music.

Finding people originally from Nashville in the city proper is like finding a unicorn, so many transplants here.

There are traffic lights that do the normal, red yellow green thing but then at certain times of the day they just flash yellow. This is not the same as flashing red. I'm sorry to the person behind me.

Yellow to red lights here mean "just a couple more please", not slow down and stop now.

The HOV/Carpool lane can be used by all except for the hours between 4-6. That one really blew my mind.

Nashville and Portland, Oregon share a lot, and I mean a lot of similarities in the styles and hang out spots of younger generations. There's a significant show of man buns/long hair, beards, somewhat tight pants, skinny bodies, frayed shirts, microbreweries, coffee shops, thick framed glasses, fedoras and somewhat fancy shoes. Not going to lie, I was looking more for cowboy boots, flannel, baseball caps and two steppin venues. I'm not completely out of luck, just less options than previously anticipated.

Speaking of two steppin... there isn't much of that happening even at the country bars listed above! They have other partner dances that they seem to prefer more.

It gets cold. I mean, if you're from a snowing state, then... no, it doesn't get cold. But if your from the West Coast... it gets cold. It also gets hot. It's summer and I'm sometimes melting.

Sometimes it does snow, and that one inch might even stick, but it'll melt by afternoon. Enjoy it, make muddy snowmen, take pictures, breathe it in, and then let it go. Appreciate that you don't have to shovel anything.

***Then live through icepocolypse 2015 where Nashville was shut down for 2 days and only got up and running completely after about 6 when one to two inches of ice and snow came down and the temperatures didn't reach above 35.

It's humid, constantly. I don't think this is a bad thing, I wish it helped the static that is often present in my hair during winter, but alas it does not.

Being just about 29, single, never married and with no children is not as normal here as it is in San Diego. Being 29, married with children is totally normal and expected here. Never seen so many young parents in my life. Welcome to the South. I want to note that I am not judging negatively on this, at all. I just happen to feel behind sometimes when out on the weekend.

There is one Trader Joe's. It's in the worst traffic area of Nashville (in my humble opinion) otherwise known as Green Hills. Don't go around 1:30-2 when school is getting out if you're going south after, you'll end up eating your snacks before you get home.

There are no Starbucks in East Nash.

Potholes can be filled and back again within what seems like a week. After the snow is a rousing game of dodge the pothole on any given road!

Luke Bryan does go out to eat with his family as does Alan Jackson... both go to a restaurant I worked at when I first moved here. Definitely one of the highlights of working there. I. talked. to. Luke. Bryan. I thought I wasn't a fan girl. I was wrong.

If you go to Broadway and find someone cute, chances are they are not from here. Stick with Demonbreun or Midtown for a few more locals.

Nashville is growing like crazy, traffic is starting to take after San Diego rush hour, mostly because there are fewer lanes here and so. many. people.

I'd be lying if I said I was in love with Nashville. I'm not. I like it well enough, but am I convinced that this is my forever place? No. Maybe I just haven't found my part yet, I'm not sure. But I'm going to keep trying and exploring.

xoxo

Montana

How do I even start my story about Montana? With a sigh? With a tear? Maybe a little of both and a hint of a smile. Montana. It started May 1st, I met a man (off of Tinder) who was here visiting, recording an album. I didn't think much of it before we met, and the plan to meet wasn't set in stone. It was my favorite, non committal type of plan, if we're both in the same place at the same time, then we'll meet. No expectations, no pressure.

We ended up at the same place, at the same time. I had met a few of my out of town friends in the busiest most touristy part of town but they weren't able to stay long and so I had some options of people to meet up with next. I sent a message and went to one of my favorite bars right off of Broadway. It shares it's name with a movie, there's no cover for females and if you're brave (or just really liquored up) you have a platform to dance on. It was but a quarter of an hour at most before I got the text of arrival, I turn around and there he was, looking better than the pictures I had swiped right on. It was a moment, one of those where things just click, where there's no one else in the room, where there's a straight path from you to them. That moment turned into a full night of picking songs at that favorite place, of trying to beat the crowd and find somewhere to partner dance, of feeling like a queen walking around with her real deal cowboy date. He bought me a rose from a guy in the street, and I didn't stop him. We walked the pedestrian bridge and laughed about all sorts of things. There was a moment a second too late where I wondered if he had just been about to kiss me, and then so many second after trying to recreate that space so it might happen.

There was an adventure out to the Parthenon at 2:30am because it wasn't time to go home yet, home meant him leaving in the morning and I wasn't ready. We walked around, we hid from possible cop cars, and another of those moments, but still mostly friendly banter. Then back to the parking lot where his car was, trading opinions on country music, and then him saying it was time to dance, right there, music playing from the car. Laughing because dancing on an unkept parking lot surface is so much different than wood floors. Talking and talking about nothing and everything because it wasn't time to go but we weren't ready to make the move forward. And then finally calling it, him walking me to my car, me getting in and just looking at him, and then getting back out. A goodnight kiss that was everything it needed to be and nothing more.

An amazing first date.

Go through then, a montage of daily text messages and then moving up to phone calls. Questions, questions, questions about past, present and future. The work of getting to know someone. The frustrations and limitations of work schedules and distances. He living in Texas, a place I had left my ex because of distance almost a year before. An attempt from him to come back here and then the invitation for me visit on his trip back home. A state I had never been in, but had been thinking about going to... Montana.

Two weeks later I was on a plane, ticket paid for, feeling once again quite like a queen in cowgirl boots. Antsy for hours at a time and then I arrived, in that small airport of Missoula. I walked out of the airport to a sky that I'm sure I'll never forget. Quiet, calm, spotted with clouds, mountains in the distance with frames of trees. He picked me up in a diesel truck and off we went. We drove for over an hour, windows down, my hand out taking it all in. The sky, the mountains, the trees, the wide open spaces, the small towns with small shops and then more sky, mountains, trees and wide open spaces. So much space to breathe.

The four days passed slow and fast, a blur of pups running up to the truck as we came up the dirt road, the room that was ours, horseback rides up a mountain, off trails, curious cows and a horse that needed shoes. Riding in a rusted truck seatbelts off, the shooting of guns in an open field and nights on his friends' porch. There was a night where he played and sang some of his songs while the puppy kept me warm, curled up on my lap, I could have stayed there for a very, very long time. There were chickens and pigs and talks of hay and curiosities about farm life answered. And that view, the big sky, mountains framed with trees, it held me attention completely.

It ended too soon, I would given a lot to stay just a few more days. I left with tears rolling down my face, kicking and screaming on the inside. I took a chance, I pushed my boundaries and regardless of the tears that may be in my eyes right now, I am very glad I did. It was everything I wanted it to be while it was. Montana and the man left some big shoes to fill.

xoxo

Breaking Up - A Year Later

This was always going to be hard to write about. I went up and down in feelings for much longer than I anticipated. Much, much longer. They say half the time you are together with someone and that should be the amount of time you take to get over it. That might be true for some, but it wasn't true for me. It's not that I thought we needed to be back together, I figured we would have been even more painfully torn apart if I had stayed, but it's hard deciding to end things with a best friend.
I'm often embarrassed by how "long" it has taken me, how sometimes I still remember a little something and I have to take a deep breath. I'm suppose to be strong and independent... I moved across the country by myself for heaven's sake. Then there's also the fact that he moved on months ago, MONTHS. And how the discovery of that hit like a ten ton truck. It wasn't just the finding out, but the fact that it was posted like I never was, for everyone to see, heart eyes and all.

About three months ago I told the heartbreaking story of the last night to a good friend, and I cried again because it still felt pretty new. But there was something in that telling that was different than all the other tellings. Somehow that telling released me, and deep in the depths I guess I decided I was okay again. I noticed it with a song. Driving a few days later it came on the radio and instead of turning it off immediately I enjoyed it as I had more than a year before, completely separate from the meaning it had grown. I didn't remember or notice the ease until it was almost over. But when I did I marveled and wondered what had switched and most importantly I took that as a good sign.

The truth, a year later is as such: I loved him very much. I didn't love myself very much. During the first 6 months I went back and forth from questioning my decision to being very sure it had been right. It took longer than I expected to be even partially at peace. The truth is we aren't right for each other anymore, but I am glad we were then. I'm glad I got to experience all that I did with him for so many reasons.

I meant to post this a while back, and since thinking I had posted it I have found myself in another break up situation. This one hurt different, but I'll save that for another time.



xoxo