Welcome to Tennesee.
Written July 8, 2008
Within 30 minutes of arriving to Music City, I concluded that the city was not, perhaps, unplanned, but had been drawn out by a blind epileptic holding a pen between his toes.
The streets here are utterly bizarre. 21st is a two-way street but only for a little while. Never drive in the right lane because it will suddenly become a parking lane. To get to Dr. DB Todd Jr Blvd, you make a left on 18th Ave, a left on Edgehill, a right on 21st, continue along Broadway, and then a left on 18th (yes - again) because it makes some strange leap that I just can't visually map. To drive to campus from where I'm currently couch surfing, you can't simply make a left on 17th and then a left on Edgehill, because 17th is a one-way but 18th is not. So make a right on 17th, a right on Horton, and then a left on Edgehill, and you'll be fine. Oh and if you keep going along 17th it becomes Magnolia, but you won't be able to tell from your side because the street sign is facing the opposite direction.
Besides all that... I am going to love living in this city! I can't wait to go explore properly, which will unfortunately have to wait until I find a permanent place to stay. That said, even hunting for an apartment has been fun. I've seen dozens of charming duplexes, and it's ridiculously had to turn them down. Hopefully I'll find a place to live soon. I thought about getting my own place but in the end I decided on a roommate - I'd much rather spend the extra $150 or so a month on coffee, food, perhaps a car, a decent couch bed for y'all to sleep on when visiting, honky tonks, or basically anything but an iPhone.
Anyway. Nashville looks like a lot of fun, and "Vandy" (a cheesy but somehow likeable pet name for a prestigious university) is absolutely gorgeous! I spent some time wandering happily lost and admiring the buildings for an hour or so.
What else have I been up to... oh, right, the 4th of July party. Hilda (grad student I'm working with and currently living with while I find a place) is president of the Nashville Roller Derby Girls. One of their biggest sponsors is Eric Powell, graphic novelist of Dark Horse comic "The Goon." He's doing pretty well for himself and threw a huge party on this day, re-named "Blow Shit Up for George Carlin Day." About 30 people were there by dusk, half of them the roller girl team and the other half aficionados and boyfriends. And yours truly.
Don't get me wrong. I like to party. This was a good group of people and I'd be more than happy hanging out with them again. I simply wasn't expecting to see, in this order:
(1) jim beam and sweet & sour mix being poured into a jug that once
held insect repellant, and then the bikini-clad "Rambo" using the
pump-action squirter to deliver these tasty and refreshing "sprayshots";
(2) up to 13 women running around in their bikinis, the only thing outnumbering
the number of eyes watching them being the number of tattoos decorating these
womens' bodies;
(3) a man with no less than 52 body piercings and one black eye dancing in his
scooby doo boxers;
(4) a 25-year-old rusted car filled with gallons of gasoline and fireworks set on fire;
(5) having my shirt enthusiastically pulled off by a very drunk woman who wanted
me to "shake my titties in the rain";
(6) the very, very nice rented sound system, which had blared hits such
as "Pussy Control" through the evening, finally succumb to the storm with a
strange crunchy noise...
...and more that I likely cannot accurately recall. Nudity was not included on this list because I was (accurately) expecting it.
Conclusion: it was a good party, and I can't imagine a better "Welcome to Tennesse" than that.
Within 30 minutes of arriving to Music City, I concluded that the city was not, perhaps, unplanned, but had been drawn out by a blind epileptic holding a pen between his toes.
The streets here are utterly bizarre. 21st is a two-way street but only for a little while. Never drive in the right lane because it will suddenly become a parking lane. To get to Dr. DB Todd Jr Blvd, you make a left on 18th Ave, a left on Edgehill, a right on 21st, continue along Broadway, and then a left on 18th (yes - again) because it makes some strange leap that I just can't visually map. To drive to campus from where I'm currently couch surfing, you can't simply make a left on 17th and then a left on Edgehill, because 17th is a one-way but 18th is not. So make a right on 17th, a right on Horton, and then a left on Edgehill, and you'll be fine. Oh and if you keep going along 17th it becomes Magnolia, but you won't be able to tell from your side because the street sign is facing the opposite direction.
Besides all that... I am going to love living in this city! I can't wait to go explore properly, which will unfortunately have to wait until I find a permanent place to stay. That said, even hunting for an apartment has been fun. I've seen dozens of charming duplexes, and it's ridiculously had to turn them down. Hopefully I'll find a place to live soon. I thought about getting my own place but in the end I decided on a roommate - I'd much rather spend the extra $150 or so a month on coffee, food, perhaps a car, a decent couch bed for y'all to sleep on when visiting, honky tonks, or basically anything but an iPhone.
Anyway. Nashville looks like a lot of fun, and "Vandy" (a cheesy but somehow likeable pet name for a prestigious university) is absolutely gorgeous! I spent some time wandering happily lost and admiring the buildings for an hour or so.
What else have I been up to... oh, right, the 4th of July party. Hilda (grad student I'm working with and currently living with while I find a place) is president of the Nashville Roller Derby Girls. One of their biggest sponsors is Eric Powell, graphic novelist of Dark Horse comic "The Goon." He's doing pretty well for himself and threw a huge party on this day, re-named "Blow Shit Up for George Carlin Day." About 30 people were there by dusk, half of them the roller girl team and the other half aficionados and boyfriends. And yours truly.
Don't get me wrong. I like to party. This was a good group of people and I'd be more than happy hanging out with them again. I simply wasn't expecting to see, in this order:
(1) jim beam and sweet & sour mix being poured into a jug that once
held insect repellant, and then the bikini-clad "Rambo" using the
pump-action squirter to deliver these tasty and refreshing "sprayshots";
(2) up to 13 women running around in their bikinis, the only thing outnumbering
the number of eyes watching them being the number of tattoos decorating these
womens' bodies;
(3) a man with no less than 52 body piercings and one black eye dancing in his
scooby doo boxers;
(4) a 25-year-old rusted car filled with gallons of gasoline and fireworks set on fire;
(5) having my shirt enthusiastically pulled off by a very drunk woman who wanted
me to "shake my titties in the rain";
(6) the very, very nice rented sound system, which had blared hits such
as "Pussy Control" through the evening, finally succumb to the storm with a
strange crunchy noise...
...and more that I likely cannot accurately recall. Nudity was not included on this list because I was (accurately) expecting it.
Conclusion: it was a good party, and I can't imagine a better "Welcome to Tennesse" than that.