Serendipity

serendipity [ser-uhn-dip-i-tee] noun: an aptitude for making desirable discoveries by accident. 

I get inspired easily; well, I call it inspiration, others say I'm "easily-distracted." But it works for me. I can multi-task and do more, then eventually pick up what I'm doing an hour later. And now, a few months later, it's already our three-month anniversary as a Nashvillian.

After being in the 23-year-old limbo stage of life, this place is starting to feel like home. It took me one year, more than 2,000 miles, and Darwin. It was pretty much survival at one point... But I got a phone call one Wednesday afternoon in September, and then an interview at a news station. I had two days to catch up on every current event and every local issue; and two days to deliver the best responses in interview history. It was more terrifying than studying for a college final. C's get degrees in school. You either pass or fail in an interview. 

Yet, the whole time was a thrill. The interview lasted about five hours, and now I'm officially a part of the WSMV team. Still, I wonder how my boss shuffled through all the resumes and cover letters to find mine. So lately, I've been inspired by serendipity -- also my favorite movie. 

Inspired to make a difference: Prominent Nashvillians and leaders were inducted into the Country Music Walk of Fame last weekend, including Alan Jackson, and WSMV's very own Dan Miller. These ordinary people made music and history, while giving back to the people in this great city, as well as the nation. It's no wonder they call it the "Volunteer State." With the holidays coming around, it's the perfect time to get involved. I see myself playing chess with an 86-year-old woman named Janice at the local senior center. 

Inspired to make music: You know you're hanging out with a group of musicians when the night ends at 3 AM with one person playing the guitar, another plucking a banjo and another playing the fiddle. I either need to take up the piano again (I can only play "Heart & Soul") or truly pursue the drums and flute combo that was a fallback only 90 days ago. Currently looking up piano lessons. 

Inspired to learn: Each day is a learning experience. When it comes to the new gig, it could be adding a fullscreen shot with live video to a story, taking viewers' pictures and turning them into a graphic for breaking news, or even finding out something new about my coworkers. It's a priceless work-day that hardly seems like work; it's more of an adrenaline rush. When it comes to life, it's learning to open up and open my heart for the first time. And it's a beautiful thing.  

Music is my Boyfriend

It's been two weeks since our arrival, and I now understand why Nashville is dubbed Music City. It's a passion here, a flame, living in every Tennessean. 

It may come from the man with an accordion on the street, the city-sponsored speakers on every corner, or our neighbors downstairs. Even the minor league baseball team is called The Sounds. This city thrives on sound and talent. Music ties everyone to both their roots and their future. It's the LA of the Midwest, where fame is associated with sound not appearance. 

Here, many also rely on the "hillbilly 401K plan" -- also called the tip bucket. Though we have not resorted to this retirement plan just yet (Ash would sing, while I would play the flute, and drums with my knees), it is our backup plan and may be put into effect next month. 

We may also have an "in" at a couple locations, as we are already regulars at Edgehill Cafe and groupies at Tootsies. Thankfully, beer is cheaper which doesn't set us too far back on our cowboy--I mean job-- search. 

When the sun is out, it's endless hours of revamping resumes, rewriting cover letters, attaching writing samples, making phone calls and watching a silent phone; it's exploring Centennial Park, the state capital park, and the Friday night Farmer's Market.

It's dripping sweat while keeping up with the East Nasty running group; it's getting eaten alive by mosquitos in a field of grass at Percy Lake; it's stealing Internet and watching Colbert; and sometimes, it's laying at the pool reading The Tennessean avoiding the subject of "employment" all together. When the sun goes down, it's being awakened by a crack of lightening out the window; it's then laying under the stars watching the meteor shower; it's an after-party with the band; and it's cupcakes, Redbox movies, cheap wine, and a date with our new roommate Val -- our four-month-old terrier.

Regardless, it's all smiles in Nashville, but isn't a California girl with big dreams good enough? 

From Cali with Love

It only took one U-Haul, seven stops, and 2,700 miles.  I would first like to thank Chevrolet for ensuring the beat-up Blazer made it one piece, as did Ashley and I; I would also like to thank the automobile company for fluctuating gages as we turned on the air-conditioning. As a result, we rode in a natural sauna due to the dreadful summer heat over the span of multiple terrains from California to Tennessee. In fact the heat index in our car was probably around 130. 

Along our way, we saw magical canyons (the most Grand), isolated deserts, miles of cornfields, treacherous thunderstorms (shout-out to Ash's aggressive driving in Oklahoma City--don't go there unless absolutely necessary), serene waterfalls, the Gamma Phi Headquarters, and even the "Second Friendliest Quilt Shop in the Universe" -- thanks Kansas. It was mostly fast food, Subway, and 100 Calorie Packs for main meals along the way; however, we did splurge on real meals when we visited our friends in low and high places (literally -- Ash had elevation problems) in Las Vegas, Denver and Fayetteville. 

It was a sticky, bright Monday afternoon when we swerved over to the right of the freeway to snap photos in front of the "Tennessee Welcomes You" sign. And it was well worth the risk. 

Our fuel was pure excitement from there on out. Every tree looked that much more different and beautiful; every river looked more midwestern; and every Carl's Jr. and Green Burrito was actually different, as here it is called Hardee's and the Red Burrito. As we drove by the ghost of Elvis, it was sinking in, and there it was... Hello Music City -- land of cowboy boots, flannels, and everything-fried; hello sophomore year of life filled with no expectations and loud, terrifying cicadas; and hello soul searching for myself as well as employment. 

Though we sometimes joke whether or not this crazy idea is actually quite crazy, we've come to the conclusion that it is. Yet, the satisfaction of pursuing something unknown is liberating. Leaving behind the huge support system of family and friends was as difficult as it was encouraging. We are truly thankful for those friends who have become our family and our families who are also our friends. 

So goodbye San Diego, where flip-flops, tan lines, and beach bods flourish. Hello new life in Nashville.