Thankful Things

A few weeks ago we took a trip back to Chattanooga to catch up with friends and check to see if our house is still standing. It was one of those whirlwind trips we're so good at taking. It was the kind where we probably spend more time in the car than at our destination. But every mile of highway we covered was worth it to spend time with the people we love.

Who would have ever imagined I could say, "Some of my best friends are Southerners?"


Because our time was so limited we decided to organize a few group activities in the hope of seeing as many people as we could. The plan worked nicely, though I'll admit it turned out to be one of those trips where you're so busy enjoying the company you forget to take pictures.


When it was all over and we were driving home exhausted but content I found myself in awe. I wasn't  in awe of how wonderful my friends are. I mean, they are. (even the ones that I didn't get any pictures of...) I was in awe of how much has changed. I'm in awe of the prayers that have been answered in the short time that I've been away.


There are new homes, jobs, babies, and plans. Things and people that I distinctly remember praying for are now here.


Sure all the answers didn't come in the timing we demanded them. And the answers don't look exactly as we might have imagined. But there are countless answers. And many of those answers are even more perfect than we might have dreamed.


I've found myself clinging to that thought this week. As we wrestle with news of a family member in a wicked health battle, I'm clinging to the comfort of prayer.

I'm not about to claim to be an expert on prayer. Believe me, I've got lots of questions about how it all works. But there is one thing I've come to understand. Whether we get the answer we want or we don't, we get an answer. Whether we get the answer in our timing or not, we get an answer. And the answers, though sometimes difficult to swallow, will grow us, will change us, and will draw us closer to our heavenly father if we allow them to.


So today I'm thankful...not just for the trip to Chattanooga and the time with friends. And I'm not just thankful for the lessons that crazy town continues to teach me even after we've left. I'm thankful for the comfort of prayer and the privilege to see it shape my life and the lives of those around me.

What are you thankful for this week?

The Old New Me

Originally published in 2008, this Weekend Rewind 
is a peek at a few of the growing pains I experienced during our 5 years in Chattanooga.

It’s only been 2 years since we've become residents of the South. In that short period of time a few parts of my character that made me a Midwestern city girl are being beaten into submission. It makes me laugh that I am slowly but surely blending into my surroundings! Arghhhhh!

Yesterday, as I came home from work, I felt another chunk of the BC (before Chattanooga) me fall away. As I got out of my car, I looked across the street to see my neighbor sitting on her front porch and I immediately waved to her. ?!?!? Before I knew what was coming over me I began a conversation. Huh? As we spoke, I looked down the street and noticed a moving truck at the end of the block. I suddenly had this bizarre notion that I should head down the block and welcome them to the neighborhood. Pretty out of character. It was like a big can of southern hospitality threw up all over me! I spent three years at my last place in St. Louis and couldn't tell you one of my neighbor’s names nor would I recognize one of their faces in a crowd. But we've been in this house just a few months and suddenly I’m the neighborhood welcome wagon???

It got me thinking... what other changes have occurred since our migration below the mason Dixon line?
~ I now know what grits are and sometimes eat and enjoy them
~ I put make up on every time I leave the house
~ I include "ma'am" and "sir" after my yes and no answers
~ When I hear "bar-b-que" I know it means pulled pork and is not just a cooking technique
~ Some of my closest friends are political conservatives

However, there are a few cultural differences that I haven't given in to yet.
~ I don't use the term "y'all"
~ I do not drink sweet tea
~ I don't own a confederate flag
~ I don't use self tanner or have a membership at a tanning salon
~ My hair is far from BIG

By no means am I a Southern belle and there is probably not a chance I’ll ever be mistaken for one. But I’m definitely seeing some of the Bible-belt culture bleed into my personality. It’s fun to watch time, experience and location play a part in cultivating a new me. Who knew in just two short years I might associate personal growth with becoming more stereotypically Southern? Don’t get me wrong, I’m still a Midwestern city girl at my core. But it's been fun to incorporate a little bit of Dixie into who I am.

If you've ever lived in "A Foreign Land" how did it grow and change you?

Today is the LAST DAY to vote! 

Would you take a moment to help me out?

It would be a complete honor to be named one of the top 10 finalists in

  The Local Tourist's 100 Days of Chicago Photo Contest.

If you've already voted earlier in the week - would you consider voting again?

{Here's more information on the contest.}

Thank YOU! Thank YOU! Thank YOU!

When My Social Calendar Was Full

A strange thing about moving is the social calendar culture shock one experiences. Right before you leave, there are tons of "Last coffees," "Quick lunches," and "It's not goodbye, it's see you later get togethers." There doesn't seem to be enough time in the day to spend the quality time that's needed with all the ones you love. The social calendar is filled to its brim. And then bam! You arrive in your new town and the social engagements are slim pickings. When you look at the calendar it's nearly empty. You find yourself reaching out and hoping people will be willing to fit you into their schedule. It is the strange period of being in between worlds. A time where everyday friendships transition into long distance relationships and you can't help but wonder who will fill those "everyday" gaps.

That transition is where I find myself right now. I'll admit, after all the craziness of moving, I am kind of relishing the quiet time. It's nice to spend time just the two of us together. But it does feel different.

In December and January, my calendar was jam packed full. Who knew that THIS GIRL would develop as many deep, meaningful relationships as she did? {Who knew that that girl would actually cry on the morning she left for good?} Who even knew? But she did. {And she did.} And now I'm in a brand new exciting and wonderful city and there are moments that I find myself nostalgic for ... wait for it ... Chattanooga. Can you even believe I just typed that? Yep, it shocked the hell out of me too. In all honesty, I'm probably nostalgic for the people of Chattanooga more than the city itself. But really, that's just as much of a surprise. Considering.

I figured while I'm all ushy, gushy, it might be a good time to share some of the fabulous last moments that I was too busy enjoying to blog about. These are just a handful of the people and events that are keeping me company until my social calendar comes back to life.

Hammock happy hour with sweet friends

{Brought to you by Color Cloud Hammocks}

Coffee adventures with ladies who know what REAL snow looks like

{During blizzards that will shut a town down}

Hometown parades on a Saturday morning

Eggnog from scratch in our old kitchen

{Which is now available to rent, along with the rest of the house, if you're interested!!!}

Quick coffee catch-ups with friends and their little ones

{Could this be a Horizon add or what?}

And "Chicago" themed going away parties that will forever stay in my heart and memory

{For more photos and the story of the party, check out Lexi's blog}

And that, dear readers, is what the last few weeks in Chattanooga looked like from my point of view. There was plenty to do and plenty to love. My social calendar was full. It was glorious and I am thankful. Actually, I'm beyond thankful, I'm amazed. Sad to leave Chattanooga for good. Check.

Moving Day

"Being alive, it seems, means learning to bear the weight of the passing of all things. It means finding a way to lightly hold all the places we've loved and left anyway, all the moments and days and years that have already been lived and lost to memory, even as we live on in the here and now, knowing full well that this moment, too, has already gone. It means, always, allowing for the hard truth of endings. It means, too, keeping faith in beginnings."

~Katrina Kenison

Thank you, for the quote beautiful friend.

Next Stop, Chicago.

An Anniversary of a Different Kind...

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Today's a little bit of a different kind of anniversary for the handsome hubby and I. Today marks five years that we've been living in Chattanooga.  *pause for effect* That's right, it's been five. long. years.  We have spent five years living in a city that I could not have named the STATE in which it was six years ago. (It's Tennessee - for those of you who were wondering) Five years. That is a substantial portion of my life. Truth be told, I may have said at one point, "I'd rather be dead than still living here (Chattanooga) in five years!" Eeek. (Note to self: be careful what you blurt out in moments of "honesty.") But, as tempting and lovely as heaven sounds, and it does, I no longer feel exactly like that.

Thankfully in the last five years I've come kicking and screaming to a point of submission. I'm learning to recognize the wonderful things that Chattanooga has to offer. I've been given a handful of relationships that make this place feel like home. And there are moments that I'm incredibly thankful for the time we've spent here and the people we've grown into while living in this town.

All that to say, I've come a long way from this girl:

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The problem is I don't feel like I have anything in common with the people that I’m meeting. I'm not exaggerating or being overly dramatic when I say that I feel like I’m on another planet. They eat differently, talk differently, dress differently, worship differently - I feel like a first year French student. I'm still thinking in English (or in my case Yankee) and having to constantly translate what is put in front of me. And quite frankly, that hurts my game - it's difficult to be quick witted when you're conjugating in your head.


Everything and everyone here is just so peculiar. I really wasn't prepared. Geographically, we're not that far from where we left. These drastic differences don't make sense to me. And not only am I not sure how to fit in, I’m beginning to wonder if I even want to.

originally published here

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Sure, I still don't fit in all the time. I definitely still talk differently, I don't understand all of the traditional foods and I'm WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY over the Churchianity that seems to permeate the Christian community. But, I am picking up a few "Southern" traits. I wear a slip under my closet full of sundresses now. I tease my hair occasionally and I even like okra! Ok, so they aren't huge strides, but surely you'll admit there's some assimilation there, right? Unfortunately I still stick out like a sore thumb most days. If I had a nickel for every time I heard, "You're not from around here are you?" or the more polite version, "Where are you from originally?" I'd buy a one way ticket out of here I could quit my job. Slowly but surely though in the past five years I've begun to find my niche. I might not fit in perfectly, but I'm discovering ways to make this foreign land home. The longer I'm here the more I'm able to embrace the truth that different isn't always better or worse, sometimes it's just different.

That's why I'm recognizing this little anniversary. Five years in Chattanooga have brought a lot of changes into my life. I'm talking about heart changes that are much deeper and more gratifying than my love of okra. And though it isn't a plan that I would have made for myself, I am glad to be in a place where I can recognize that it has been a good and profitable plan for my life. And if this is where we're to live our lives for the foreseeable future, than here we are!

And I didn't even clench my teeth or shudder when I wrote that. Now that, my friends, is progress.

Has hindsight given you the perspective to recognize blessings that you never asked for or wanted?

Catchin' Up

Here's what's been going on for the past couple of weeks in a few quick tidbits.

(Thanks, Rachael, for the great idea that I am now blatantly stealing)

*I had a birthday and I freaked out.  I don't usually freak out at birthdays.  In fact, I usually eat them up and lick the plate clean.  But this time was a little bit different.  I freaked out hard core.  It wasn't the aging leads to dying thing that had me freaked.  I can honestly say that for the first time in my life I am NOT afraid of dying.  Heaven sounds good to me.  Not in a, "I WANT to die," kind of way.  But in a, "Life is probably always gonna be kinda hard (period)," kind of way.  Knowing that, Heaven sounds like a really nice alternative.  So nope it wasn't the dying aspect of the birthday that made me all weird and mopey.  It was the getting old factor.  I'm petrified of getting old.  I don't want my mind and body to start to give out.  I don't want to be "out of it." (and that's already happening... what's this "BBM" thing all the kids are doing?) I don't want to get OLD.  Therefore, my birthday brought a bit of anxiety.  But I've stuffed all those issues and am feeling much better now.

*On the bright side of the birthday, I got a new fancy schmancy camera.  We bought a Sony Nex and I'm still in the process of figuring out how to use it!  I'm just waiting for the sun to come back out so that I can take it outside and play around with it.  Stay tuned for some stunning photography around here.  (I'm setting the bar a bit high there probably).

*A girl I used to know in real life defriended me on Facebook recently.  It doesn't bother me that much since  I'm working on being okay with the fact that not everyone is going to like me.  What is annoying though is that when I see her at the gym (small town woe) she goes out of her way to make eye contact and smile really big at me.  That, to me, just reeks of fakity fake fake. Plus, it's annoying.  And possibly passive aggressive.

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*With all the hype I've been seeing in the Twitter world about Pinterest lately, it was a bit frustrating to find myself "wait listed" when I tried to check it out for myself.  Wait listed?  Really?  The whole thing kind of makes me feel like I'm back on the grade school playground being picked last for kickball.  Not that I was ever picked last (yes, I was).  Has anyone else experienced the Pinterest "wait list" phenomena?  Does it end relatively quickly?  The past 12 hours have been a HUGE lesson in humility and patience for me.

*Never eat a giant Red Robin burger, two baskets of fries and a hot fudge sundae before teaching an hour long dance class. Even if the burger is free for your birthday and the fries are hot.

What's been going on with YOU?

Commercial Breaks

It's no secret that I watch the Superbowl for the commercials... and the half time show... and the junk food.  But I'm kind of sad that the commercials during yesterday's game left a bit to be desired.  I mean, there were a few that made me chuckle and I did love Chrysler's Detroit tribute.  Now there was one that stood out from the crowd for me.  Undoubtedly, my favorite commercial of yesterday's "big game" was the Darth Vader Volkswagen Passat commercial.  I thought it was stinkin' brilliant.

Now, perhaps I'm biased because the new Passat will be manufactured in Volkswagen's North American production plant which just so happens to be RIGHT HERE IN CHATTANOOGA!!  (that's where we live... you know the foreign land?)  Or perhaps I'm biased because I currently drive a Volkswagen and love it.

Regardless I'm so happy to see all the buzz about the commercial and hope it translates into mega sales which translate into mega moolah in the city which translates into mega growth!


And I hope I hear all about that growth wherever we move.
juuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuust kidding.

kind of.

Which commercial was your favorite yesterday?

Friday Night Lights

We recently decided for the third time to make our home in Chattanooga.  It's a long story and I really don't want to bore you with the gory details, but suffice it to say that we are still here and we're making ourselves comfortable.

Since we've been here we've tried different things to make Chattanooga enjoyable.  We've built relationships here, we've invited visitors to stay with us, we've enjoyed the city and all it has to offer as tourists ... now we're going try to live like locals.  In an effort to embrace local culture, we spent Friday night at a High School Football game.

I felt a little bit like I was in Dillon, TX.

The hubby was sweet enough to figure out which local football game was the game of the week and obviously that was the one we went to watch.  We drove twenty or so miles North to Cleveland, Tennessee to watch the Cleveland Raiders play their homecoming game against the Red Bank Lions. 

The homecoming queen was crowned right there on the field at half time.  It was very dramatic and full of lots of teen drama.  Apparently she wasn't the popular choice among the cheerleaders because a couple of them were crying when she was crowned and not in the "happy tears" sort of way.  Several rushed another girl on the court after the crowning.

There was one HUGE shocker for us too.  As each member of the court was introduced, the crowd was not only informed of all of her extracurricular activities but also WHERE SHE WENT TO CHURCH.  Ummmmm, Cleveland High School is a public school???  Where she goes to church, HUH????  The hubby asked me, "Is it bad that I hope to hear, 'so and so thinks it's none of your damn business where or IF she goes to church!'?" Ahhh, the subtle differences of living in the Bible belt.

After half time we headed over to the visitor side of the field so that I could watch some cheerleaders who were actually moving (Cleveland's cheerleaders were pretty pathetic) and the hubby could cheer for the winning team without being shot run out of town.

For most of the game I thought this flag said Rib and Loin which is a local Bar-b-Que joint.

I must have been hungry.

We watched the Red Bank Lions trounce the Cleveland Raiders.  Aren't you supposed to schedule a team that you're certain to beat for your homecoming game?  The hubby reminded me that our Alma Mater ~ Parkway South ~ typically lost our homecoming games too. (Yes, we went to the same high school... but we weren't there at the same time and never met one another.  We didn't meet until years later.  Isn't that crazy?)  I didn't remember our losses, but that's not a huge surprise since I don't remember a bunch of high school.

What about you?  Any fun homecoming memories to share?

It's time for you to brag ... who was Homecoming Queen???

"Ooooo Weeeee, Pig, Pig, Pig"

Had another cultural experience this weekend. Our mouths watering for fresh from the tree apples, the hubby and I took a drive to Ellijay, GA. The drive itself was beee-autiful. The trees were starting to turn so everywhere you looked brilliant reds, oranges and yellows popped. We made most of the trip on two lane state roads that wind through itty bitty towns with enormous views. The fall colors made the mountains just spectacular. And though it was a bit overcast, the crisp autumn air felt great - just enough for a jacket but not enough to shiver.

Turns out, October is the end of the apple picking season (mental note: pick apples in September for the best variety) and the orchard we chose was in the middle of an "apple festival" so it was - in a word - chaotic. But we still made it out of there with a 1/2 bushel of apples, but not one picked directly from a tree by our hands. The quality of the product was more important to me than the picking experience. Have I mentioned I'm an eater? Well, I am. We also walked away with apple butter, apple cider and a handful of memories.

notice there are more apples on the ground than on the trees...

While there we got to watch our first pig races! I didn't even know pig races existed, so watching them was a surprising treat. In honor of their hard work, we snacked on freshly fried BBQ pork skins. Gotta admit, I've been channeling my inner redneck ever since. Fried pork skin = good eatin'. But I digress... The races were emceed by a genuine good 'ol boy. I'm not sure if his schtick, full of "ooo wees" and plenty of "them theres", was for real or exaggerated for effect. Regardless, he was a trip. And as a take away, I'm now aware of exactly HOW to call a pig. Not sure that bit of knowledge will ever be employed, but regardless, it's in my arsenal.

Look at those piggies go...

After cheering on the swine we watched some less-than-enthusiastic clog dancers. Their performance was NOT even close to picture worthy. (Come on ladies, next time stomp it like you mean it). It almost seemed as if they were bothered by being there at all. Perhaps the second stage at the Hillcrest Orchards Apple Festival isn't the gig they had been training for all their lives... who knew? After we ate a turkey leg we high tailed it out of there. While the afternoon was much fun there are only so many tractors I can see and only so much manure I can smell before I start to twitch.

"We're Nice Down Here"

I'm pretty sure my brain hit the inside of my skull when I crashed my car into the back of that old lady on Friday morning. The impact was so intense my backseat popped out. Thankfully, though, neither one of us was hurt and our cars weren't badly damaged.

Ok, here come my excuses... It had been raining. We were stopping on a hill. The old lady started to go through the yellow light and then hesitated at the last minute. But, obviously, the front end of my car hit the rear end of her Crown Vic. So, regardless of my excuses, the accident was my fault.

So much for the fallacy that old people aren't tech savvy. She had called 911 before the light turned red!

Since neither of us was hurt, the 911 dispatcher advised that we pull out of the intersection and into a nearby parking lot. Once we did and were out of harm's way, the old lady got out of her car to come and check on me again. I assured her I was fine and asked, again, how she was doing. She started to cry and I gave her a big hug. Honestly, this was the weirdest accident encounter I've ever had.

But, that was just the beginning. Once her husband and the police officer arrived on the scene, all three of them convinced me not to file a police report. What?!?!?! Old lady's husband, said there wasn't enough damage to get the insurance companies involved. He assured me he could easily fix the bumper.

I was hesitant.

When the officer explained that along with the police report he would have to cite me for following too closely, old lady said, "Oh, we don't want to do that." And the police officer agreed. HUH?!?!?!? Old lady's husband, a retired insurance man, (What? We spent 20 minutes together... obviously I know their whole family history) explained that the only need for a police report would be for the insurance company to "get our money." Old lady said, "We've got a lot more experience with this, having raised four kids." The police officer was visibly on board with everything they were saying.

I gotta admit, I was pretty thrown off. I reluctantly agreed, after confirming one last time... that everyone (but me) thought the best course of action was NOT to file a police report. Bizarre. When the guys left, old lady and I exchanged names and phone numbers. While we were writing she asked me, "Are you from Chattanooga?" When I explained that I wasn't, her response was pretty typical, "I didn't think so, I noticed you talked funny."

{crickets chirping}

I bit my tongue and refrained from explaining that Midwesterners are known for NOT having accents. I didn't point out that, in fact, I speak like they do on the network news. I didn't ask her to notice that there is neither a twang nor a nasal inflection in my speech pattern. I stopped myself from accusing her of being the one who actually speaks "funny." Instead, I smiled GENUINELY and thanked her for being so kind and sweet through this whole ordeal. And I really did mean what I said.

She responded by saying, "Well, we're nice down here."

Here She Goes Again

After an indulgent post earlier this week, an anonymous reader commented "who are you and what have you done with Molly?" Believe me, I understand that the comment was made in jest and with love. But, I can't lie. It sent me into a momentary tail spin. It got me wondering... who the heck am I becoming? What have I done with the Molly that once was???? After about 2 seconds, I realized that I left her at home. She's back in the Lou attending live theatre, going to the art museum, and riding her bike in Forest Park. The Molly I once was is attending book club, throwing parties and planning weddings at the Journey. She's going to concerts of artists other than those heard on Christian or Country radio, eating at a variety of amazing restaurants and watching professional sports.

But with few of those things available here, I've been forced to change. I'm discovering other things to keep me busy. It's incredible what you can fill your time with when you're in the midst of complete culture shock.

{ here she goes again... I've read this one before }
I know, right? Do I sound like a broken record? Do you wish that after nearly 3 years I would be better adjusted to life here? Are you tired of hearing this same thing from me over and over again? So can you imagine how sick I am of feeling this way?!?!

But, here's the thing. I could curl up in a ball and just count the days until we move back. I could pout and whine (believe me I could! I'm really good at it, just ask my handsome hubby. I've got plenty of practice) Or I can make the most of our time here. There's no question I'm in a foreign land. I still feel like a fish out of water and like I live in a perpetual identity crisis. BELIEVE ME, I'm just as confused as you are, anonymous reader. But I'll be damned if I let this place crush my spirit. It's evolve or perish. And you've got a front row seat for the transformation. Watch while I grow into a new woman that can survive enjoy Chattanooga. Are you sitting down? Because, it would appear that the person I'm becoming needs a staple gun and a cast iron skillet. She thinks something is FAR AWAY when she has to drive more than 10 minutes. She's learning to navigate in a culture full of church people without rolling her eyes every few minutes (that one has been particularly difficult). But most importantly, she's appreciating what we've got here while still looking forward to the day that she can be reunited with the OLD Molly and become an even cooler lady by surviving this whole experience.

Tourist Time Again

Another weekend means another wonderful visit from family! This time we got to spend a few days with my mom, Tom (my step-dad) and Shannon (my sista)! We had an abbreviated visit, but were able to pack tons of activity (and food) into our time together.

Thankfully our weather was GORGEOUS. So we spent a lot of time outdoors. Of course, I put sunscreen everywhere but on the back of my neck... so, I'm now walking around with a genuine "red"neck. (Insert obligatory Tennessee joke here). Anyway, this was Shannon's first visit down here so we wanted to give her a taste of the downtown area. We saw a bunch of the city on foot - including the sculpture park, the walking bridge and both sides of the riverfront.

The obligatory "on the bride/skyline" shot

In the sculpture garden in front of the Frank Stella

All the ladies found a few new things to wear on the Northshore, and isn't shopping always more fun in a group? Then we grabbed a quick lunch before we took them out to the hanger. Right now, Brian's employer has 4 different (and pretty beautiful) airplanes to explore. Since Tom has done some flying himself, the planes are something that he enjoyed getting to check out. He and Brian talked shop a little while we took lots of pictures.

Playing at the hanger

After a brief rest, it came time for dinner. We started at Alleia, an amazing Italian restaurant. Then walked a few blocks to Public House for dessert. During our walk we stopped at the very famous, but not all that impressive, Chattanooga Choo Choo. Of course we took the opportunity to snap some pictures, because quite honestly there's not much else to do!

Now they can check the Chattanooga Choo-Choo off their "to do" list

It was so much fun getting to spend a little time with family. For as much as we crammed into their visit, the whole time felt so relaxed and comfortable. And this weekend I was reminded how much fun it is to spend time in Chattanooga doing "touristy" stuff. It really is a beautiful city and I can't wait to someday come back and visit!

Still Foreign??

It's been 2.5 years since we relocated to Chattanooga. How long does it take for one to assimilate?

Because I’m still waiting...How much longer until this place feels less foreign? Even though I recognize all the little quirks it doesn't make them less quirky. When will I feel "at home"? Ever?

I've done all the "right" things. I've got a job. I've made friends. We bought a house. We've settled into a church. What more does it take? I'm living here as far as my brain is concerned, but my heart still longs to live far, far from here.

Actually, what I long for is to no longer long to be somewhere else.

Surprise, Surprise

Less than 48 hours after he got home, my hubby will be off to work again. Thankfully it will just be one night in Indy and back home on Tuesday, assuming all goes as planned. Why am I wasting time online tonight then? The answer is quite easy, he is packing (actually ironing...) and balancing the check book. So I figured I might take a moment to share some super exciting news.

You all are used to me complaining about Chattanooga’s lack of (insert gripe of the week here). As of late, I’ve been whining about several screens showing Paul Bart: Mall Cop, and the fact that Fireproof was monopolizing screen space for 5 months. Yet, artistically relevant pieces are virtually ignored. I mean, come on. But when the movie show times came out Friday morning I was flabbergasted and excited for a change. For those of you living in cities where award winning films are screened in numerous theatres, you may not understand how frustrating Oscar season can be for those of us less fortunate. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that Rachel Getting Married, Slumdog Millionaire, The Wrestler, Revolutionary Road, Vicky Christina Barcelona and Frost/Nixon are all playing in Chattanooga! It's stinking amazing. Can you believe it? Add to that the fact that the arts & education council is sponsoring an Independent Film Series (at the coolest theatre downtown) and I might be willing to stick around this one horse town for a bit longer.

But what is most important is that the Academolly awards are back in business.

SEC, baby

I have this big comfy, red sweat shirt that I totally love. It is perfect. I've owned it for years and it is definitely a favorite of mine. It just so happens that is says "Alabama" on the front. Sometimes I forget that down here that means something. Check that, it means everything. We're in sec country and college football is no joke. Around these parts, my perfectly broken in sweatshirt is so much more than go-to slouchy wear. Around here, it's a political statement.

How do I know this? Because I wore it into the baaa-lo several weeks ago and it almost brought an end to my days. As I was walking down the cookie aisle minding my own business I was approached by a woman who appeared to be in her right mind. As soon as she opened her mouth, I realized appearances can be deceiving.

"You’re going down today!" she screamed and pointed at me with contempt in her eyes.

I had no idea what the heck she was talking about. I was just looking for the double stuf Oreos! Did my search for the ultimate sandwich cookie earn me that sort of over-the-top contempt? Had I cut her off in the produce aisle? What the hell?? Then I looked down and realized I was making a statement without saying a word! I was terrified. This chick was not messing around. It seemed inevitable... My favorite sweatshirt was going to get my butt kicked.

I quickly explained that I had no allegiance to Alabama whatsoever. If she wanted them to go down... I couldn't agree more. In fact, at that moment in time I was ready to declare my lifelong commitment to her team of choice. I assured her that I would bleed orange, or blue or whatever. Whatever would keep my face and her fist far, far apart.

She smiled, as I stammered. But the look in her eye told me she wasn't buying it.

Definitely A Foreign Land.

It's Prom Time!

Being completely removed from the high school scene - I never would have known it was that time of year again. Luckily, because of a fun cultural difference, I’m well aware.

Last weekend we were exploring the Bluff View Art District when suddenly we were surrounded. The sculpture park had been invaded by impeccably groomed teenagers who were nervously carrying corsages and attempting to navigate hoop skirted ball gowns (loved seeing those back in style). The boys shuffled by in rented shoes while the girls tugged at one part of their dress or another. They were followed closely behind by a drove of parents (& grandparents) brandishing cameras with flashes-a-blazing. It was so much fun to be in the middle of all of the mayhem.

At first we wondered if they were only in the park because of its close proximity to both the hunter art museum (where prom was being held) and the lovely restaurants in the area. I've come to find out, that wasn't the case. Apparently, it is a local tradition to have prom pictures taken with a scenic backdrop. And I think it is such a wonderful idea. When we went to prom, we suffered through the mandatory "pre-dance" picture session in someone's crowded living room. All the attendees backed up against the fireplace - each girl in front of her respective date - and tried to decide into which camera to look. All the while, we were hoping to get out of the house as quickly as possible. As I look back now at all of the pictures I find a different dress, a different date, a different fireplace - but a fireplace every year. How much fun would it be to have a sculpture garden or an antebellum mansion as a back drop for your big night out? It certainly makes the pictures more dramatic. The lighting has got to be better. Plus, it adds a bit more pageantry to the evening by including a scenic stop. And it will hopefully provide a little variety as they enjoy their pictures for years to come.

So I say, bravo Chattanooga. Thumbs up to you for a fun, cultural difference and tradition that is creative and unique!

Homesick

The last few days have been kind of crappy.


What I'm trying really hard to figure out is - am I missing home that badly or just feeling really lonely? Have I idealized what we've left behind because in comparison this is so not what i would consider an ideal living environment?

We've been in Tennessee for about 5 months now. Besides my husband, I’ve got one friendship brewing. I realize that patience is not one of my strong points, but come on! I'm really trying here! I realize it took 20 something years to cultivate the relationships that I had in St. Louis, and I’m realistic in my expectations of where my relationships would be in 5 months. But being the optimistic, extrovert that I am I didn't think it was going to be this difficult to even start friendships. I mean geez, everywhere else I’ve lived, people liked me...


And I’m certainly not one of those women who has to be around someone 24 hrs a day, but an occasional in-person conversation about something real would be nice. The last thing that I want to do is suck my friend dry and run her off scared. I need to find some other avenues to pursue.

My biggest fear is that I’m not meeting people that I want to develop relationships with!


The problem is I don't feel like I have anything in common with the people that I’m meeting. I'm not exaggerating or being overly dramatic when I say that I feel like I’m on another planet. They eat differently, talk differently, dress differently, worship differently - I feel like a first year French student. I'm still thinking in English (or in my case Yankee) and having to constantly translate what is put in front of me. And quite frankly, that hurts my game - it's difficult to be quick witted when you're conjugating in your head.

Everything and everyone here is just so peculiar. I really wasn't prepared. Geographically, we're not that far from where we left. These drastic differences don't make sense to me. And not only am I not sure how to fit in, I’m beginning to wonder if I even want to.

What I Love about Living in a Small Town

• Conversations (NOT just "hello" - an actual conversation) with total strangers in the grocery store
• Being able to make new years eve dinner reservations 3 days before the holiday
• When asking for directions, everyone knows where you live, so they know where to begin the directions from
• I'm learning to cook so we won't get sick of local eateries
• It's tough to get lost since all roads seemingly lead back to the same spot eventually
• Fewer pesky choices when wondering "what to do"
• You don't have to factor in traffic when figuring out drive time

Quiet or Dead?

I'm a city girl. I mean, I’m no Carrie Bradshaw. But, I was as Carrie as I could be in a medium sized, Midwestern city. St. Louis has outstanding live theatre, traffic jams, fine dining, professional sports, a wide variety of live music, and is always in the running for America's most dangerous city. And for the past 5 years I’ve gobbled up every bit of what it has to offer. I loved the noise, the stress, the hurried life style, and the options.

So, finding myself in Cleveland, Tennessee (population 37,000) has been kinda jarring to my system. It's just so quiet. It's so peaceful and serene surrounded by mountains. It doesn't seem like anyone is in a hurry. And did I mention how quiet it is? I can't sleep at night. We turn off the lights and there's dead silence.

Honestly, I heard a siren last night when we were lying in bed and it relaxed me. It was the first good night of sleep I’ve had since we came here.