Constantchange

Suddenly Nashville

I drove into Nashville at 3am on Tuesday morning last week. My father had called me and let me know that a client of his owned a lot of vintage Lionel trains he wanted to sell, and so, knowing I was out of work, my father had accepted the job for me. I've often sold toys on e-bay and have a reputation as a decent photographer and a responsible person. Dad drove down Monday night and I drove back, noticing that all the fireworks supermarkets just past Chattanooga were no longer 24 hours, but closed now at midnight, unable to employ a night shift. It's been over a month since my move from Boston, and I still haven't got a regular job, just this contract work on the trains and babysitting for family.

Nashville is Nashville, and I wish I had more time to write about it. There's a house in my parent's neighborhood with a Civil War cannon on the front porch that's fired every fourth of July. Mom saw a fox on the front lawn a week ago. My teen age sister is absorbing the 10th grade much more easily than she did the ninth, and wants me to take her shopping on West End, which is now called the Village. I went with my other sister, Abby, to the goodwill store the other day where she found a pair of leopard print bell bottoms that are fuzzy, and a matching see through top that mom made her wear over a black turtleneck. As I saw Abby off to the bus this morning, she was in those fuzzy bell bottoms, her turtle neck and shear leopard print top, and she had accessorized herself with a pair of black leather gloves, dark sunglasses, and a small scarf on her head.

I have had some fun this trip in between working my ass off. Wednesday night we had the first full editor's meeting for Scribbling Mob, with all the people who have been head editor there. I was bummed that Devon and Dust, who edit the web version, were absent, but it was still a fun time. We met at Waffle House, ate and horsed around with a few poor young boys who were near, and our friend Jeff showed up for the company. I was pleased to hang out with Callie at last, who is beautiful, and Courtney, the editor in waiting, who kept my hopes up. Fun was had, pie was had. We were all absolutely ourselves - Christi was dressed in soft tones of green and brown, her long hair loose, with pendants around her neck. I was in a white dress shirt, plaid tie and jeans, MTSU ring as always. Kati was in a pair of raggy pants and a comfortably worn tee shirt, her shaved head and mod glasses making it all work. Callie was in black, her dark curly hair done better than the rest of us, clean and neat. Courtney, while confessing to having skipped baths for several days, drew the glances of most men in the restaurant - long, lean, smoking a cigarette despite sitting in the non smoking section. I have to admit, every editor of that magazine has been an ass-kicking woman. Yea us.

I had a quiet dinner with Ron and Dinan Friday night, and while the plan for Saturday night had been drinking out in Nashville, I ended up at an impromptu party at Tony and Andrew's house. It was wild, and we were well fed, and it was a nice mix my friends for the last two years at MTSU and Tony and Andrew's gaming group. It was the sort of night where I didn't get home until nearly 5 in the morning, and I love that. Everyone needs a wild night every once in a while. Tony kicked us out around 3 a. m. and I ended up in Nashville working mischief with Christi and Winn as my willing accomplices.

I love this town, but I could never live here again. There are nights here in the fall when I get too rowdy, when I work against myself, when I go without sleep for three or four days - sometimes because of the fun, sometimes because of the stress. There are fewer jobs here than in Atlanta, and the price I'd pay for staying is far too high.Still, that I end up here at 3 in the morning sometimes is all right, as long as I stay true to myself, which on this trip is surprisingly easier than in the past.