Mom, dad, and the nephews came down Sunday and we went to a Redbirds game. We were among a dozen or so people in attendance on what turned out to be a lovely evening. I am exaggerating. There had to be thirty people there. It felt nice to show off the park and even nicer that the Redbirds won. Going to those games is bittersweet; it’s always fun but when I go, I see how…
I’m having a hard time really wrapping my brain around exactly what is happening in Nashville right now, but I know that a lot of people I care very much about are having a really hard time. And they are scared. And I feel so helpless out here in Shelby County, offering small bits of moral support in tweets and texts and blog posts, but I don’t know what to do. I just don’t know…
The Joanna Newsom show Sunday at the Mercy Lounge was equal parts lovely and wonderful and ridiculous and funny. The lovely and wonderful parts are, of course, the bits where Newsom and her band were involved (we more or less missed the entire opening act since the show was listed as starting at 9 but he was already playing by the time we got there at 8:30). It is a new experience for me, watching…
My good friend Kristin made me a Nashville mix CD back in January and it had this song on it, and I swear to you, every time I hear it, I can’t help but get a little teary. I am a sentimental fool and this is a great fucking song. (Caitlin Rose.) It’s this kind of thing that makes me pine for Nashville even while I cling to Memphis.
Sometimes you’re watching Matt cut a pineapple and Nick’s face is suddenly all up in that shit. [Project 365]
This is how pinkeye gets started. [Project 365]
Kristin mercifully had Monday off work so we were able to kick it low-stress style at The Local Taco, where we split a pitcher of margaritas as the sky spit rain at us periodically. It was nasty and humid and lovely and tasty. I wish I hadn’t had to rush back to Memphis so soon, but I’m noticing more and more that my life these days is an ongoing string of sorry-to-run-but-I-have-to-be-here-at-this-time proclamations. I don’t…
Two trips to Nashville in less than a week is hard on an old woman. [Project 365]
I’ll cop to it — I didn’t get any decent pictures of the Conchords OR Kristen Schaal, who opened for them (squee!), not only because I was too chickenshit to challenge Grandpa McUsher, who was roaming the rows and threatening to cut people with cameras, but mostly because I can’t take pictures in the dark. I just can’t. Plus I was excited. Whatever — I don’t live my WHOLE life through a screen! Anyway. The…
Sometimes if you play your cards right, you can watch a game of kickball, find a four-leaf clover, eat a buffalo burger, piss off bumblebees, eat s’mores, drink rum and cranberry/pomegranate juice, and watch The Warriors with your friends in the same night. I guess that doesn’t have a whole lot to do with this picture, but then again it kind of has everything to do with everything. Pro Tip: Hot-ass Michael Beck (who played…
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