After drinking all night at a comedy and burlesque show where Screaming Names played until almost 3am, we woke up late and had a heavy lunch to help absorb the alcohol. We went to The Dog of Nashville where I had the special, an around the world dog. A Wisconsin beer brat with sauerkraut and spicy mustard, a light german beer that I can’t remember the name of and we shared chili cheese fries. Dinner was going to have to consist of something with some actual ingredients.
Even though I don’t like it (at all) I have been lightly watching the show Nashville. I live in Nashville (the city not the show) and I thought that I wanted to see how they were portraying our little city. I mainly just leave the show on while I am sewing or doing something that takes up part of my attention. I do not intend to watch past the first season, if there is one.
All that being said, I came home from work yesterday to find this notice on my mailbox.
I went to see The Detroit Cobras last night for the first time. I first heard of the the band yesterday and after watching a few videos on YouTube I wanted to go see the show. I went to the bar across the street from the venue for a couple of drinks and some dinner. While sipping my whiskey I overheard a guy a couple bar stools down talking about how the second band had come in from a show in Knoxville and had been delayed with a flat tire. At least I knew the show would be late.
After a delightful day as a waitress, where people treated me with nothing but kindness and respect, I clocked out and headed towards my Jeep. I’m asked to park a quarter-mile or so from work to provide enough parking space for the generous people who come eat lunch at the little restaurant that I work in. I walk past a pawn shop and a dollar store on the way to my ride, and today I saw something I hadn’t seen in a while. A woman pulled into the parking lot of the dollar store right in front of me, and the passenger had a tiny baby in her lap. The passenger handed the baby off to the driver and hopped out to go dollar shoppin’.
I’ve been talking about stuffed cabbage for at least six months. It’s an old recipe of my mom’s and I just haven’t made it in years. No clue why, things just happen I suppose. So last night I go to the grocery store and get all the fixins’. I came home, cleaned out my fridge, like I do every time I go to the grocery store, washed my dishes and got started. I like to begin with a clean kitchen if possible.
I was happily prepping and taking pictures of everything when my fella arrived. Before I knew what had happened I had stuffed all the cabbage and put it in the pot. I absolutely forgot to take a picture of the stuffing process, that’s probably the most important part. Blame it on the booze, or the good conversation. I like to drink while I cook, and I really like to cook.
I have just stumbled into a rather strange Fleetwood Mac obsession. It’s been coming for a week, probably more. It’s hard to explain. I never really got into Fleetwood Mac. Everyone knows the songs that come on the radio, whether you know it’s Fleetwood Mac or not, if someone played you a greatest hits compilation you would recognize quite a few songs.
My first inclining toward the band came from a chapter in the book Kill Your Idols that I read a few years ago. The author (Jim Walsh) writes an entire chapter about sneaking a deer rifle, piece by piece, into the Target Center in Minneapolis with the premeditated thoughts of killing Fleetwood Mac. It’s cryptic, and he credits his trigger finger to video games.
I had these two pieces that I wanted to keep and reuse. I tucked them away together in hopes of inspiration coming to me at some point. I have had a week pretty void of creative impulses. I tried to make a piece of art on Wednesday and I ended up throwing it away. So it goes.
Today I remembered these pieces.
I’d worn the shirt before, but I’m not a big fan of long sleeves, and I’ve never worn the skirt. I decided to take the sleeves off of the shirt and then cut 9 inches off of the skirt. I like to wear my skirts high-waisted and short.
I visualized it in my head and went to work.
I feel like I’m a pretty good vegetable gardener, but I’m no good with the flowers. I have some bulbs that I planted in my front bed a couple of years ago that never blossomed. This spring there was a beautiful red tulip bud growing out of one of the little flowerless piles of green. I took extra care to check it each day to see if it had opened.
I came out of work one day to find this ridiculous pile of loose candy in the middle of a parking spot. Gay marriage issues were making headlines that week and I felt like this was symbolic. I also wondered why they were there.
I am a 27 year old lady that just likes to create. Anything. Residing in Nashville TN and workin' as a waitress. Dreaming about being a writer, seamstress, artist, food truck owner and drummer.
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