Dear Nashville,
In case I haven't told you lately how much I love you, I'll tell you now. I can't even be mad at you for turning me into a Basic White Girl and making me fall in love with fall. You give me nights for open windows and 80-degree days. I love your sweet tea and pimiento cheese, your southern drawls and country roads.
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
1. Endless music opportunities. I've been to at least 10 concerts and that doesn't count the random music I've walked into eating bbq or getting coffee.
2. Four ballets, one opera, one musical, and Cirque du Soleil.
3. Meeting one of my favorite authors and two of my favorite bloggers at book signings.
4. Petting hundreds of dogs at the many dog events held here. Dog Festival, Pittie Day, Barktoberfest, dog costume contests, yappy hours. Wagging tails everywhere.
5. Going to my first hockey game. I'm hoping we'll see a football game this year.
6. Seeing three of the funniest comedians. Including my boyfriend Hal Sparks.
7. Whiskey everywhere. (But please, for the love of bourbon, please teach someone how to make a proper Manhattan.)
8. I will never tire of being the first out of an elevator full of men or having doors held open for me.
9. Ghost tours and "trash" tours.
10. Celebrity sightings at a tiny Christmas parade. (This is the only one and it's been almost a year though, so step it up in that area please.)
11. Going to the Governor's House.
12. A bookstore that rivals Powell's in price, if not sheer selection.
13. I can wear my heels through October without worrying about falling on ice or trudging through snow and freezing my ankles off.
14. You have natural beauty. Shady trees, rolling hills, lakes and rivers.
15. You feed me delicious things like biscuits, grilled cheese, bbq, and fried anything when I want to be bad while still satisfying my sushi cravings or healthy options.
Yes Nashville, I have fallen in love with you.
Here's to more adventures!
Love,
Me
Showing posts with label ghosts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ghosts. Show all posts
Friday, October 23, 2015
Tuesday, September 08, 2015
How I Fell in Love With Savannah
The Texan and I took advantage of a long weekend to road trip down to Savannah, Georgia. Ever since reading Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil for book club, I'd been dying to go. To the point where I was irrationally jealous of anyone who casually mentioned that they had once been. I mentioned to The Texan that it might be a fun weekend and the next day a hotel reservation confirmation showed up in my inbox.
The drive is nothing to talk about so I won't bore you with that. Just know that there is always traffic in Hotlanta.
We stayed at the Mansion on Forsyth Park and were immediately greeted by the most adorable valet guy, Matt. One of us was mean and called him Fat Matt. That was not me. I would have baked Matt his favorite cookies and read him a bedtime story.
Since our rooms weren't ready, we went to the bar for a drink. The whole lobby and bar areas were beautifully decorated with chandeliers, artwork, and my favorite fresh lilies. I had a delightful champagne cocktail with an edible hibiscus. One of us was less adventurous and ordered a Jack and Coke. Or two. We had a free drink voucher each but our Southern California bartender didn't charge us for the third drink.
When we made it up to our room, it was all I could do not to jump up and down on the bed. It was so soft and everything was so lovely. The only thing I wouldn't want in my own home was the glass door in front of the toilet. It was like wavy, marbled glass but I still wouldn't come close to calling it private. If you have a shy bladder, this is not the bathroom for you.
Since I was still fighting a cold, we took the free hotel shuttle down to the riverfront for dinner. One of us chose wisely and ordered the delicious, fresh-from-the-sea-hours-ago crab legs and one of us chose badly and ordered the bacon crab mac n' cheese which was really light on the cheese and completely skipped out on the crab. At least the bread with hot cheese dip was good.
We wandered around to a bar or two after dinner. The really cool thing about Savannah is their to-go policy. You can have your drink poured into a plastic cup to go if you're ready to move on. I took my plastic cup back on the shuttle so we could finish the evening in the upstairs bar at the hotel. I think it's in the part that was the original mansion. I finally, finally (!) after a year of being in the south, got a good Manhattan. Or three good Manhattans. We won't talk about how much they cost; they were worth every delicious drop.
The next day we headed out to Hilton Head, SC. It's supposed to be all fancy and beautiful and beachy. It certainly wasn't when we were there. After finding a public beach, we resolved to ignore the rain that was starting to come down and take a look at The Atlantic Ocean. Up until now, I have only seen the Atlantic from Ireland so my impression of it is cold and uninviting. Still, from Ireland it is beautiful. Not so much over here. Hordes of people were making their way back to their cars; we were clearly going against the flow of traffic. As soon as we hit the sand I knew why. Windy, windy, windy. Do you know what sand feels like when gale-force winds are blowing it at your bare legs? It's like being hit with tiny little bee-bees. It fucking hurts. So while one of us wanted to enjoy a stroll along the shoreline, the other one of us thought he was insane and refused. I'm calling it. The Atlantic can't hold a candle to the Pacific. They're not even in the same league. Like no contest. None at all. Even the sun prefers to go to bed with the Pacific.
After that fiasco, we wandered The Head (is that what people call it? That's what I'm going to call it.), looking for a nice place to hide from the wind and enjoy an adult beverage. Oh, but guess what? Every place we tried didn't open until 5:00. What, they don't day-drink on The Head?
Back to Savannah then.
Oh, while we're talking about driving from one to the other, the roads between Glorious Savannah and The Head are a little creepy. It's like going through marsh and woods and trailer parks and questionable side streets. One of the streets was actually called Burnt Church. I don't even want to know how it got that name. That was probably the biggest sign that we were in the deep south and I'm glad the car didn't break down. I'm also glad I'm white. And that's a completely fair thing to say in an area like that.
After arriving back in a normal part of the world, we decided to just go adventuring and walking around. We wandered into a gorgeous church. Meandered through parks. Sauntered through the cemetery. Which I wish was open past 8:00 p.m., but I guess people can't be responsible enough to adult after that time. We zig-zagged through neighborhoods admiring the spectacularly built homes. Most have plaques stating when they were built. Many have other notes of historical significance. There are memorials to soldiers, city founders, governors, and more. Everywhere you look in Savannah there is a piece of history. There is even a 300-year-old tree that has been preserved.
Oh, and the trees. The amount and beauty of trees in Savannah makes Nashville look like a desert. There are ginormous oaks and magnolias, all dripping with Spanish moss. Because it rained most of the time we were there, it felt like we were in this otherworld where branches and leaf canopies protected us from the clouds.
After stopping into a couple of stores and finding a near-perfect copy of Aesop's Fables from 1897, we dined on more crab legs and then continued to wander through the streets. We found City Market, which is next to yet another park, only this one was a bit more open and swarmed by families playing in the water fountain. We got a peach sangria to-go and then found another restaurant on a quiet street with live music where we ducked in for a bit to have another drink.
Wandering the streets at night is different from the daytime. I didn't mention it previously, but Savannah is one of the most haunted cities in the country. Maybe the most haunted. It's been around for nearly 300 years and has been in the center of the American Revolution, the Civil War, and the Civil Rights Movement, not to mention the crimes committed against the Native Americans. There are bound to be restless spirits. Yes, we encountered a couple on the way back to the hotel. I would have liked to have known the stories but this was a spontaneous trip and we didn't do the ghost tour to find out any specifics.
The morning before we left, we again explored more of the neighborhood around the mansion walking in the rain. I insisted on finding the Mercer House, in which the events described in Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil occurred. It was as beautiful as I thought it would be. I'd be hard-pressed to choose any house above any of the others though. They're all stunning.
I think every description I had previously heard about Savannah is true. It is charming, romantic, historic, inviting, and imaginative. It's one of those places that I wouldn't even recommend a specific restaurant or activity because I think everyone should just find their own connection with this bewitching little city.
The drive is nothing to talk about so I won't bore you with that. Just know that there is always traffic in Hotlanta.
We stayed at the Mansion on Forsyth Park and were immediately greeted by the most adorable valet guy, Matt. One of us was mean and called him Fat Matt. That was not me. I would have baked Matt his favorite cookies and read him a bedtime story.
Since our rooms weren't ready, we went to the bar for a drink. The whole lobby and bar areas were beautifully decorated with chandeliers, artwork, and my favorite fresh lilies. I had a delightful champagne cocktail with an edible hibiscus. One of us was less adventurous and ordered a Jack and Coke. Or two. We had a free drink voucher each but our Southern California bartender didn't charge us for the third drink.
When we made it up to our room, it was all I could do not to jump up and down on the bed. It was so soft and everything was so lovely. The only thing I wouldn't want in my own home was the glass door in front of the toilet. It was like wavy, marbled glass but I still wouldn't come close to calling it private. If you have a shy bladder, this is not the bathroom for you.
Since I was still fighting a cold, we took the free hotel shuttle down to the riverfront for dinner. One of us chose wisely and ordered the delicious, fresh-from-the-sea-hours-ago crab legs and one of us chose badly and ordered the bacon crab mac n' cheese which was really light on the cheese and completely skipped out on the crab. At least the bread with hot cheese dip was good.
We wandered around to a bar or two after dinner. The really cool thing about Savannah is their to-go policy. You can have your drink poured into a plastic cup to go if you're ready to move on. I took my plastic cup back on the shuttle so we could finish the evening in the upstairs bar at the hotel. I think it's in the part that was the original mansion. I finally, finally (!) after a year of being in the south, got a good Manhattan. Or three good Manhattans. We won't talk about how much they cost; they were worth every delicious drop.
The next day we headed out to Hilton Head, SC. It's supposed to be all fancy and beautiful and beachy. It certainly wasn't when we were there. After finding a public beach, we resolved to ignore the rain that was starting to come down and take a look at The Atlantic Ocean. Up until now, I have only seen the Atlantic from Ireland so my impression of it is cold and uninviting. Still, from Ireland it is beautiful. Not so much over here. Hordes of people were making their way back to their cars; we were clearly going against the flow of traffic. As soon as we hit the sand I knew why. Windy, windy, windy. Do you know what sand feels like when gale-force winds are blowing it at your bare legs? It's like being hit with tiny little bee-bees. It fucking hurts. So while one of us wanted to enjoy a stroll along the shoreline, the other one of us thought he was insane and refused. I'm calling it. The Atlantic can't hold a candle to the Pacific. They're not even in the same league. Like no contest. None at all. Even the sun prefers to go to bed with the Pacific.
After that fiasco, we wandered The Head (is that what people call it? That's what I'm going to call it.), looking for a nice place to hide from the wind and enjoy an adult beverage. Oh, but guess what? Every place we tried didn't open until 5:00. What, they don't day-drink on The Head?
Back to Savannah then.
Oh, while we're talking about driving from one to the other, the roads between Glorious Savannah and The Head are a little creepy. It's like going through marsh and woods and trailer parks and questionable side streets. One of the streets was actually called Burnt Church. I don't even want to know how it got that name. That was probably the biggest sign that we were in the deep south and I'm glad the car didn't break down. I'm also glad I'm white. And that's a completely fair thing to say in an area like that.
After arriving back in a normal part of the world, we decided to just go adventuring and walking around. We wandered into a gorgeous church. Meandered through parks. Sauntered through the cemetery. Which I wish was open past 8:00 p.m., but I guess people can't be responsible enough to adult after that time. We zig-zagged through neighborhoods admiring the spectacularly built homes. Most have plaques stating when they were built. Many have other notes of historical significance. There are memorials to soldiers, city founders, governors, and more. Everywhere you look in Savannah there is a piece of history. There is even a 300-year-old tree that has been preserved.
Oh, and the trees. The amount and beauty of trees in Savannah makes Nashville look like a desert. There are ginormous oaks and magnolias, all dripping with Spanish moss. Because it rained most of the time we were there, it felt like we were in this otherworld where branches and leaf canopies protected us from the clouds.
After stopping into a couple of stores and finding a near-perfect copy of Aesop's Fables from 1897, we dined on more crab legs and then continued to wander through the streets. We found City Market, which is next to yet another park, only this one was a bit more open and swarmed by families playing in the water fountain. We got a peach sangria to-go and then found another restaurant on a quiet street with live music where we ducked in for a bit to have another drink.
Wandering the streets at night is different from the daytime. I didn't mention it previously, but Savannah is one of the most haunted cities in the country. Maybe the most haunted. It's been around for nearly 300 years and has been in the center of the American Revolution, the Civil War, and the Civil Rights Movement, not to mention the crimes committed against the Native Americans. There are bound to be restless spirits. Yes, we encountered a couple on the way back to the hotel. I would have liked to have known the stories but this was a spontaneous trip and we didn't do the ghost tour to find out any specifics.
The morning before we left, we again explored more of the neighborhood around the mansion walking in the rain. I insisted on finding the Mercer House, in which the events described in Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil occurred. It was as beautiful as I thought it would be. I'd be hard-pressed to choose any house above any of the others though. They're all stunning.
I think every description I had previously heard about Savannah is true. It is charming, romantic, historic, inviting, and imaginative. It's one of those places that I wouldn't even recommend a specific restaurant or activity because I think everyone should just find their own connection with this bewitching little city.
Monday, July 09, 2012
Pug Snuggle 2012
Yesterday the wife and I took a little trip to Portlandia to snuggle some rescue pugs because Wifey is going through the adoption process and wanted to meet her potential adoptee. As always, it was an adventure for us and I learned some stuff. Stuff like this.
1. Rescues are pretty great organizations. Some people are happy going to their local shelter for a pound puppy. These are wonderful people offering a home to animals that really need it. But some people, like me, really like a specific breed and this is where rescues come in. You get the breed you want while still doing a good thing for an animal that wasn't wanted. It's a win-win, no-guilt solution! Now, who wouldn't want a pug? I don't know. Stupid people. Because pugs are awesome. And Pacific Pug Rescue is really awesome. They let us snuggle pugs to our hearts' content. We got kisses. We got hugs. We fell in love. Seriously, if the adoption process was really easy, I would have brought home a new family member last night. The foster moms were all really sweet, caring ladies. I want to take them all brownies.
We went to meet Berkley. Poor Berkley was so hot he didn't have any energy to show us his personality. He just sat there and panted and looked miserable. Maybe that's his talent. Looking as miserable as dogly possible. He did live up to his ad in one respect. He had the most sumptuous fur I have ever felt. MmmmmHmmm.....
So this is who was left. Daisy greeted us when we first got there. She greeted everyone; it was as if she wanted everyone to feel welcome and included. Love her. Pretty sure she wants to come live in Bend. Pepper does too. Pepper looks older than he is, has back and hip problems, and is mostly blind and deaf. But he's so cute! He's all black (hence the name Pepper) and has the cutest, sweetest, little stuffed-animal face. Pick him up and he just lets go in your arms (not of his bladder, he just relaxes). He would look so striking in a green sweater. Georgie was bred and then kicked to the curb. She's small and sad, but learning to love again. Dogs are so much better at this than people. Barkley was pretty studly, but wasn't showing much of his personality either. Maybe he's used to getting by on his good looks, it would totally work for him. Cassie was tiny and peppy but we didn't have a real connection. Chunk was on medical hold so I didn't spend much time with him, but he sure was a cutie.
Can you tell who my two favorites are? I can't wait to be an aunt to Daisy and Pepper!!
2. Ikea is dangerous and should require armor. A large picture fell and smashed my poor little bare toe. The wife had her foot run over by a cart (incidentally, all of their carts like to turn sideways). A table fell into her forehead when we were loading it in the car, and I banged my shin against the lower cart. I'm sure all of this had nothing to do with the fact that we lost three hours of our lives in there and were delirious with hunger. Stupid Ikea took away from our shoe-shopping time.
3. GPS can be a bitch. Seriously. She kept telling us the wrong way to go and sent us on a wild goose chase looking for the Pug Party. I think she just figured it out as she went along. The one time we decided to ignore her directions, she was right. Whatever. Stupid whore.
4. Fondue is delicious. Okay, I already knew this. But it is.
5. Something about the wife and me makes people seat us in back corners. Actually, I already knew this too, but I don't know why. We're the fun ones. We are more than happy to entertain people with the things that fly out of our mouths. Ask the guy in the Halloween costume store. Whatever. Sheesh.
6. VooDoo Doughnuts is that good. I don't even like maple bars, but how can you not love a doughnut that comes with bacon on it? You have to love it. I might advise against eating the Oreo-covered one in the car. I didn't find some of the pieces that went down my shirt until I got home.
7. The wife and I are dating the same guy. Not the same person, obviously. We're not that close. Or gross. But the guys we're dating are eerily similar.
"I told him ..."
"Yes! I said the same thing!"
"And he said ....."
"Yeah, M/K said the same thing"
"That's what M/K says. That's what M/K does."
"It drives me crazy when he says/does that."
"Ohmygod!! Me too!!!"
Apparently we are having simultaneous, duplicate conversations at all times without knowing it. There are many ways in which we're alike so I suppose this was bound to happen at some point. Some things are just inevitable.
8. The wife is afraid of fog. Or maybe it's a combination of fog, a scary ghost-looking cloud peeking over the mountain staring at us, lightning, and me talking about scary movies with people standing in the middle of the road waiting to be hit. What? I was just trying to set the mood. I think it's the first time she ever told me to shut up and meant it.
9. Your life does not flash before your eyes if you think you're about to die and you don't pee your pants when you're really scared. Even if you have to pee really, really badly. Laughing your ass off after you survive a near collision with a dividing ramp wall on the part of the freeway that is a bridge spanning the river might make you nearly, almost pee your pants.
P.S. Is it really so hard to flush a urinal? For Pete's sake, you're standing there facing it. It is mere inches from your fingertips. Filthy, disgusting pigs.
10. It is possible to laugh and talk so much in one day that I lose my voice. Yeah, I knew this one too. But I don't think it happens with just anyone. That's why we're wives.
1. Rescues are pretty great organizations. Some people are happy going to their local shelter for a pound puppy. These are wonderful people offering a home to animals that really need it. But some people, like me, really like a specific breed and this is where rescues come in. You get the breed you want while still doing a good thing for an animal that wasn't wanted. It's a win-win, no-guilt solution! Now, who wouldn't want a pug? I don't know. Stupid people. Because pugs are awesome. And Pacific Pug Rescue is really awesome. They let us snuggle pugs to our hearts' content. We got kisses. We got hugs. We fell in love. Seriously, if the adoption process was really easy, I would have brought home a new family member last night. The foster moms were all really sweet, caring ladies. I want to take them all brownies.
We went to meet Berkley. Poor Berkley was so hot he didn't have any energy to show us his personality. He just sat there and panted and looked miserable. Maybe that's his talent. Looking as miserable as dogly possible. He did live up to his ad in one respect. He had the most sumptuous fur I have ever felt. MmmmmHmmm.....
So this is who was left. Daisy greeted us when we first got there. She greeted everyone; it was as if she wanted everyone to feel welcome and included. Love her. Pretty sure she wants to come live in Bend. Pepper does too. Pepper looks older than he is, has back and hip problems, and is mostly blind and deaf. But he's so cute! He's all black (hence the name Pepper) and has the cutest, sweetest, little stuffed-animal face. Pick him up and he just lets go in your arms (not of his bladder, he just relaxes). He would look so striking in a green sweater. Georgie was bred and then kicked to the curb. She's small and sad, but learning to love again. Dogs are so much better at this than people. Barkley was pretty studly, but wasn't showing much of his personality either. Maybe he's used to getting by on his good looks, it would totally work for him. Cassie was tiny and peppy but we didn't have a real connection. Chunk was on medical hold so I didn't spend much time with him, but he sure was a cutie.
Can you tell who my two favorites are? I can't wait to be an aunt to Daisy and Pepper!!
2. Ikea is dangerous and should require armor. A large picture fell and smashed my poor little bare toe. The wife had her foot run over by a cart (incidentally, all of their carts like to turn sideways). A table fell into her forehead when we were loading it in the car, and I banged my shin against the lower cart. I'm sure all of this had nothing to do with the fact that we lost three hours of our lives in there and were delirious with hunger. Stupid Ikea took away from our shoe-shopping time.
3. GPS can be a bitch. Seriously. She kept telling us the wrong way to go and sent us on a wild goose chase looking for the Pug Party. I think she just figured it out as she went along. The one time we decided to ignore her directions, she was right. Whatever. Stupid whore.
4. Fondue is delicious. Okay, I already knew this. But it is.
5. Something about the wife and me makes people seat us in back corners. Actually, I already knew this too, but I don't know why. We're the fun ones. We are more than happy to entertain people with the things that fly out of our mouths. Ask the guy in the Halloween costume store. Whatever. Sheesh.
6. VooDoo Doughnuts is that good. I don't even like maple bars, but how can you not love a doughnut that comes with bacon on it? You have to love it. I might advise against eating the Oreo-covered one in the car. I didn't find some of the pieces that went down my shirt until I got home.
7. The wife and I are dating the same guy. Not the same person, obviously. We're not that close. Or gross. But the guys we're dating are eerily similar.
"I told him ..."
"Yes! I said the same thing!"
"And he said ....."
"Yeah, M/K said the same thing"
"That's what M/K says. That's what M/K does."
"It drives me crazy when he says/does that."
"Ohmygod!! Me too!!!"
Apparently we are having simultaneous, duplicate conversations at all times without knowing it. There are many ways in which we're alike so I suppose this was bound to happen at some point. Some things are just inevitable.
8. The wife is afraid of fog. Or maybe it's a combination of fog, a scary ghost-looking cloud peeking over the mountain staring at us, lightning, and me talking about scary movies with people standing in the middle of the road waiting to be hit. What? I was just trying to set the mood. I think it's the first time she ever told me to shut up and meant it.
9. Your life does not flash before your eyes if you think you're about to die and you don't pee your pants when you're really scared. Even if you have to pee really, really badly. Laughing your ass off after you survive a near collision with a dividing ramp wall on the part of the freeway that is a bridge spanning the river might make you nearly, almost pee your pants.
P.S. Is it really so hard to flush a urinal? For Pete's sake, you're standing there facing it. It is mere inches from your fingertips. Filthy, disgusting pigs.
10. It is possible to laugh and talk so much in one day that I lose my voice. Yeah, I knew this one too. But I don't think it happens with just anyone. That's why we're wives.
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