Nashville not now.

Since before I even landed here, I imagined my summer to lead into a September in Nashville…

I fell for the city years ago, with amy at my side then, too — and have never lost the desire to be there again. And yes, that was my only requirement for my next stop – a desire to be there. No job in place, nor a spot to rest my head – just desire for the scenery.

I started the apartment search weeks ago, searching mainly for sublets (in case I don’t actually fall in love with living there, like I plan) and for roommate situations, so that I’ll actually know someone else…

I have spent so many hours on Craigslist — and other questionable ‘roommate’ websites — I don’t even want to know how many. Likely that of a part-time job, per week. 25 hours. I’ve stayed up til 4am just perusing and perusing, picturing myself in different scenarios, imagining myself in this-house-and-that.

There was a place that demanded you have a green thumb (I thought about lying), many for ‘musicians only (I do sing A LOT), tons asking first and foremost for your favorite movies and musical artists (I’m not telling, assholes!; I’m not giving you the chance to judge me like that — and besides, I barely even know!), and then the usual smattering of prostitution-for-rent ads, where you can ‘Stay Free for Companionship, Female Only’.

My favorite, however — which I have found on more than one occasion, is the following:


I thought about heading to the horse farm, sans horse, just to spend my days and nights in their presence. How odd and wonderful it would be. And weird.

Alas, every single potential roommate deemed me not quite cool enough…and I’m not ready to do the companionship-for-room thing…so I’m skipping out on the dream named Nashville for now.

Instead, I am heading to Iowa City. I have some really good friends there, with really big hearts, and a pretty big home –  that are offering me a position as a squatter. There are major bonuses to this situation. I’m going to live with friends. They have two amazing kids. They’re grounded people, with good heads on them, the types that know and use Excel to plan most everything. I can learn from these people.

So, I’m leaving Murray. A place where you can eat the figs off the trees in your front yard, the blueberry picking is just up the road, the eggs are dropped off on the porch and the landlords become your family.

I will miss it, for sure. But now that I’ve been, Murray has carved a little space in my heart and I hope I have carved a space out here for my imminent visits.


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