Spent the weekend in lovely Nashville, Tennessee this weekend with two of my dear friends from childhood. I picked up MK from her office near the airport on Friday afternoon, decided that she is the best looking and best dressed person in her building after watching people file in and out while waiting on her, and we hopped on an afternoon flight.
MK lived down the street from me growing up, but RW was literally my next-door neighbor. I distinctly remember launching into her backyard from my trampoline and hearing the occasional rock hit my bedroom window when there was adventure to be had or walks to be taken.
So anyway, RW ended up in Nashville because she finished college there, and in the two years she has lived there, I had not been to visit. So you can guess how often I was asked when I was coming: as many as could be crammed into phone conversations filling the past two years.
RW has gone down a different career path than most everyone I know and I'm so proud of her: she's the personal assistant to a country music artist. RW has a scrapbook of her job. You should know your job is unconventional when you have a scrapbook full of passes to the Grammy's and pictures from music venues all over the country. MK and I were joking about what would be included if we made scrapbooks of our jobs: office supplies, snarky interoffice emails, fax transmittal sheets, employee review forms and FedEx labels.
We got to see a lot of the city, eat (a lot of) good food, shop and catch up on RW's dating life. Something we have always given her a hard time about is that she has this undefined "type" that she is looking for in a guy. There are a lot of intangibles to be dealt with, but basically it's a combination of ruggedly handsome, mysterious, infuriating (in a passionate way), politically conservative, plays the guitar, wears white v-neck t-shirts, etc. She would never to admit it, but other than the infuriating part and playing guitar this is actually a good description of her dad.
Over dinner at a trendy little restaurant in the downtown area on Friday night she caught me up on a trip she had taken with a friend to New York, (a gift from a well-known sports agent she had met whose assistant sounded an awful lot like Lloyd from Entourage), and a guy she had been out with recently (who, confirmed via Facebook, was very cute in a way only Southern boys can be), but rejected saying there was "no spark, nothing there".
MK said it best at dinner that night:
"You think you know someone, then they move to Tennessee, start rejecting perfectly good men and drinking red wine."
The two men RW was most attracted to over the weekend were:
1. Gerard Butler in The Ugly Truth. He is a crass meathead for 99% of the movie.
2. A guy MK pointed out Sunday during lunch at a small restaurant in Franklin, TN, who RW identified as the ex-boyfriend of Miley Cyrus, who is incidentally also an underwear model, as confirmed by a Google Images search on my iPhone while he was about 20 feet away.
We also got to go to the famous Grand Ole Opry Saturday night, where we saw short performances by a number of blue-grass bands and singers, followed by Clay Walker and Carrie Underwood. If you've never seen her, you would be impressed... the girl has got some serious lungs.
Sunday was spent sleeping in, drinking coffee and doing more of the same from the rest of the weekend that we so enjoyed. We all have such varying personalities but somehow, after all these years, we can do very little or very much and always remain vastly entertained by each other.
There are people whom one loves immediately and forever. Even to know they are alive in the world with one is quite enough.