I was talking to a friend from Nashville yesterday when it hit me. I miss Nashville. I miss the awesome fall weather, bundling up in coats and sitting in my friend’s backyard watching the leaves fall. I miss hangs at JJ’s and Fido, and Saturday brunch when I would skip past the crazies waiting in line at Pancake Pantry to go eat at Jackson’s. I miss picking up the Nashville Scene and having trouble deciding what shows I want to see that week. I miss the couches at Mercy Lounge, and listening to my friends argue about music. I miss feeling the familiar yet vague concept of Southernness, and reveling in the comfort of knowing that strange as some people’s habits might be, at least I knew them well.
Being in California is a challenge some days. You go to dinner, and people forget to introduce you. There’s little concept of manners. People will never firm up their plans with you, because they are waiting to see if something better comes along. There’s a complete lack of seasons, which bugs me. Everywhere should have at least one season, even if it’s the one where it gets really hot for an extended period of time, like in southern Alabama. All in all, I’m having a grumpy day, and the only cure would be a plane ticket to Nashville tomorrow.