"Who's On First": Nashville Edition

First things first: we are moving into a townhouse/duplex. We'd been calling it a condo until someone corrected us. Condos are to apartments what townhouses are to... well, houses, I guess. Our new place is definitely more house-like, and only shares a building with one other unit. Apparently that's not a condo. Don't ask me, I grew up in the forest.

We're safely back in Wisconsin now, after a 17-hour drive home from Nashville. Is it supposed to take that long? No. Contributing factors? Big accident in Indiana. White Sox fans. Mostly White Sox fans. Still, we made it back, and all is well.

To further remind us that we had, indeed, made the right decision in where to rent, I have to recount one other apartment-agent interaction we had while in Nashville. Daryl still chuckles when I mention this one...

So we were looking at a few apartment complexes. We left early to visit each one, but this particular one was off of Old Hickory. If you know Nashville, you know that Old Hickory winds around the city in about five different directions. It's easy to get lost on Old Hickory, which we promptly did. So I called the apartment offices for directions.

Them: "Hello, _____ apartments."

Me: "Hi, my name is Courtney and I'm scheduled to look at apartments in about half an hour. Can you give me directions to the complex?"

Them: "Well, who did you book your appointment with?"

Me: (Fumbling through my notebook for a second). "Um... I don't really know."

Them: "I just need the name of the person."

Me: "Right, well, I don't know that. I didn't write it down. I've booked a lot of appointments during the last few days."

Them: "Do you know who the appointment is with?"

Me: "I'm sorry, I don't. I just need directions, though. I don't need to tell you who I booked an appointment with to get directions, do I? We won't be late, we just aren't sure how to find you guys."

Them: "Just go south on 65."

(I should mention now that 65 goes north all the way through Indiana and south far beyond Nashville).

Me: "South on... but I haven't told you where I am yet. Don't you need to know that?"

Them: "We're pretty much right off of 65."

Me: "But... that doesn't make any sense if you don't know where I am right now. I'm down by Brentwood." (Brentwood is about ten minutes south of Nashville)

Them: "Right. Go south."

Me: "But then I'm going to end up in Georgia!"

Them: "Just go south on 65."

Me: "Okay. Do you know what? I'd just like to cancel my appointment."

Them: "Who was it with?"

Siiiiigh...

Apartment Hunting: Round 3

I suppose it is misleading to label this series "Apartment Hunting" because, as we soon discovered, we do not want to live in an apartment. After visiting only one we became immediately irritated with the whole mass-marketed apartment world.

"Come! Rent our place!" they scream. "We have amenities like pool parties that you will never go to and free popcorn from six days ago!" And then, when you need something fixed, they hassle you. Also, they keep the garbage dumpster far, far away from where you live so that you get to take your trash for a car ride. Fun.

So after our very first apartment glance, we changed course. We wanted a house. A home. A place that felt like maybe we were grown-ups and not just displaced college students.

The problem there was that homes are pricey. Way over our budget, for the most part. Enter townhouse/condo/duplex. Ah, this was good. The personable nature of a house with a smaller price tag because of one shared wall. Perfect.

So we looked some more today.

First we saw a run down duplex that had five of these living next door:

But it's cool, right? Because the yard was separated from the duplex's yard by a shoddy fence. And pit bulls are friendly, right? I mean, they love people so much that sometimes they eat them.

Next we saw a cute-and-affordable-but-kind-of-far-away-and-in-a-sketch-neighborhood place. We fell in love with the landlord here (around our age, a former Christian college student, offered to put in lots of sweet amenities for not much money), but the distance and neighborhood were too much for us. Also, it was right across the road from a BP refinery. Lots of issues with that one. Like, I like to breathe air. And not have cancer.

Throughout the day we were waiting for K, our potential landlady, to call us. She was offering our dream townhouse to the first folks who viewed it. If they didn't want it, it as ours. So we waited, nervously, while looking at other potential options. I had a hard time sleeping last night because I was so anxious. What if someone else took it first? What if it fell through? What if she decided that she didn't want to rent to us for some bizarre reason? What if she suddenly changed her mind about allowing cats?

So we continued our just-in-case tour. We saw a cute house and called to see how much it was renting for. The number was over twice our budget. Eep. You could buy a house for that much in some places in Wisconsin.

We waited. We were nervous. We waited.

Then, she called.

"I haven't heard from the first folks," she said. "If you want it, it's yours."

We told her we were getting in the car with our checkbook.

And we signed a lease.

I was a silly disorganized person and forgot the camera when we toured it, so there are no photos (yet). Tomorrow we head back to Wisconsin.

So, beginning in August we are now living 1.5 miles from Vanderbilt, a couple of miles from the hospital where I'll be twice a week, and only 20 minutes from my place of work the rest of the week. We are one mile from Daryl's favorite coffee shop and my favorite resale shop. We are less than a mile from my two favorite gluten-free restaurants. We are just over a mile away from some friends (hi, M and P!) who moved downtown last week. We are in a safe neighborhood that's still close to the city. We have a yard. We are a hundred million times excited.

We have a fireplace. We have a washer and dryer. We have a garage. We have two stories. 

Also, we have a guest room. So come visit.

And we are very, very happy.

Apartment Hunting: Round 2

Today was a better day. No broken-down car, no side-of-the-interstate, and (perhaps most importantly), no venomous insects. Today went as follows:

1. Drove the drive from Place #1 (hardwood living room pictured below) to Daryl's school and my work to see how long it would take. Were hoping for 30 minutes or under. It clocked in at 40-45. Boo. Still, love the place and are thinking it might be home.

2. Visited a really, really awful place. Quoth the landlord's lackey: "Yeah, if you see any pests, that's probably, you know, your fault, and you should call the pest control guy and pay him yourselves." Ooookay...

3. Stumbled upon an amazing house within two miles of Daryl's school. Called the landlady, who came by a little bit later. Saw it. Loved it. Are waiting to hear back from the landlady tomorrow to see if the people who visited just before us want it. If not, this is home. Praying for this to be home. So close to everything! In a great neighborhood! No pet deposit! Love it, love it, love it... We'll know by 4pm tomorrow if it is ours.

4. Visited a condo previously rented by Vanderbilt basketball players. It. Was. Gross. Also, overpriced. When we got back in the car Daryl whispered, "Did you see the facial hair in the sinks? GROSS!" I won't even tell you about the carpets. Also, a keg in the backyard. Classy, kids.

5. Called up two more spots to see tomorrow in the early morning. Two more duplexes close to Vandy and within our budget. One looks kinda ugly, one looks kinda cute. We're giving both a chance.

We're feeling good. It's been a long few days (and we're a bit slap happy at this point), but we're feeling good. We've stayed with some dear, wonderful friends, and that has helped. Those friends are gf-folks, so they even made us a totally safe (and completely amazing) dinner. What a luxury to just sit and eat and not have to ask a million questions. So. Good. Plus, through the ups and downs of finding a new home, Daryl and I have been together through it all (even on the side of the interstate!), and that has helped. We stumbled upon a really amazing resale shop and I got brand new jeans for super cheap. In a couple of long, crazy days, a pair of new jeans certainly doesn't hurt.

So, for you praying folks, pray that the other couple who saw the house we love (did I mention that we love it?!?) turn it down and that it can be ours. Oh please...

Apartment Hunting: Round 1

Daryl and I are down in Nashville apartment hunting. It's been an eventful trip, to say the least.

First, it looked a lot like this:

Sorry to gross you out. It grossed ME out. No, we will not be renting an apartment from you when your MODEL UNIT has a GIANT POISONOUS SPIDER CRAWLING ACROSS THE KITCHEN FLOOR. Seriously, folks. Don't you spray that particular unit for pests like five times a day? Eesh. No THANK you.

Then, it looked a lot like this:

Yes, our car had a bit of a meltdown. On the Interstate. So we pulled over to figure out why it was shaking and smoking. And we stood and waited for Triple A for about an hour in the 99-degree heat. Yes, I am now sunburned.

Then we had the car fixed at a Goodyear with wonderfully nice southern dudes who fixed it in a couple of hours (turned out it needed new brakes and some part had come loose - hence the shaking and smoking). Our wonderful friend H brought us her car so we could continue the house hunt...

Luckily, from here the day began looking up.

It looked like this:

Hello cute wood floors and lots of sunlight! It also has a big yard and three (three!) bedrooms. And lots of storage. At this place we arrived before the landlord and the tenant (who is an incredible photographer) invited us in and gave us the scoop: It's a great place to live. This one is top of our list right now. It's a bit far away, so we're driving from it to my place of work this morning to see how long it takes. Pray for around half an hour or less...

Then it looked like this:

Why yes, that IS a piece of gf-tiramisu! We stopped by Fiddlecakes in Nashville and had a gf sandwich (a SANDWICH!) and tiramisu. Definitely made the broken down car seem less important. Sigh. So good. So, so good... I haven't had tiramisu in over a year.

After that, it looked like this:

Hello charming little kitchen! This place was adorable but very tiny... Like, almost studio-apartment-in-NYC tiny. But very adorable... So we're still thinking about it, to see if it's possible for us. It's also super close to school for Daryl. But did I mention that it's tiny?

On the list for today:

1. Our car not breaking down.
2. A townhome in West Nashville.
3. A 2-bedroom in Hillsboro.
4. Driving around Green Hills and Sylvan Park to see if there's anything cute up for rent.

I'll keep you posted...

Working Out

I have not exercised regularly in three years. Count 'em. Sad, I know.

But now that we're up in Wisconsin for the next couple of months, it has become a million times easier to work out. And I am. Regularly. And I am achy and sore and more relaxed than I've been in years.

Why the change? For one, I have time (time! glorious time!). For another, my workouts now look like this:

I am so happy.

*Photo courtesy of: http://www.3eagletrail.com/trailpics.html

Apartment Hunting

Daryl and I are in search of a new home. One that is not in New Jersey (woot!). One that is close both to his school and to the hospital where I'll be working.

I have an utter love/hate relationship with apartment/house hunting.

One the one hand, I love it. It's exciting to dream and explore, to decide what is most important to us for the next phase of life, to plan on making a home home. I get excited about how we'll arrange things, what spots the cats will find in which to snuggle up, what our view will look like.

One the other hand, it can be very discouraging. I found one apartment complex I loved (seemingly safe, affordable, close to what we need it to be close to, with nice floor plans) and then read some reviews.

"I loved living here, until the shooting."

Eep.

Others warn of brown recluse infestations. Um, excuse me? If I see one poisonous spider, we are moving OUT. Is that just an innocent northern thing to say? (Probably).

Another review of a hopeful place: "Live here if you love mold!"

Yuck.

As two-former (and one current) grad. students, we don't have an unlimited budget, which, of course, limits us from just plunking down our Black AmEx card at the Grand Hotel and asking for room service. We don't need anything fancy, just a place to call home. Preferably one where we can paint the walls and decorate it to look like home (and not like an institution, as our previous white-walled seminary apartment could look at times). I would also like to do laundry in my own apartment, not in a mold-infested basement as I have been doing for the past three years. When Daryl and I moved out in May most of the stuff in our basement storage unit was moldy and needed to be thrown in the trash. And I did my laundry down there for three years. SO gross. Though I may be willing to budge on having our own washer and dryer and just use a community laundry room if it is not infested with mold. Maybe.

One of the trickiest parts of this process is that we're up in Wisconsin right now, hanging with family, so we can't easily drive by and check places out. We're planning a foray down to Nash-Vegas in a couple of weeks to see places in person, though. That seems to be the only way to know for sure if a place is truly livable.

Top three things I want in an apartment or rental home?

1. Safety. I want to be able to walk from the car to the apartment at midnight without looking over my shoulder and/or running.
2. A guest room for friends.
3. No poisonous insects/spiders/pests. I don't mind the occasional bout of ants or ladybugs (I grew up in the woods!), but I draw the line at things that could actually make me, my dear husband, or one of my cats lose an appendage and/or die.

Daryl's top three:

1. Light. Lots and lots of light. (He's from California. He can't help himself.)
2. Something newer or cute and vintage.
3. Something affordable so that we can pay off loans/save some money.

Any other things we should put on at the top of our lists? Anyone have a beautiful, new, insect-free, place we should take a look at, or an apartment complex in Nashville that they've loved? Class? Class? Bueller?

Graduation

In all the hubbub of final exams, traveling, and packing to move, I almost forgot what a momentous occasion this May was. I graduated! I guess that is kind of a big deal.

Princeton Seminary's graduation takes place in the University Chapel, which is beautiful and historic and almost British in feel. Daryl, my parents, and my grandparents were there to cheer me on, which meant a great deal. On Friday we packed and packed, and on Saturday I had an awards' breakfast and then a long walk up do get my diploma.

The breakfast:

The chapel, before and after:

The family:

Some of my favorite professors in the entire world (sadly, I couldn't catch a few of them after graduation, and some of them are on sabbatical and hence, weren't there):

The friends:

Company of New Pastors folk (a program for PCUSA ministers or ministers-in-training):

The guy who got me through it all, and sacrificed his first PhD acceptance in order to follow me to seminary:

I did it! Woo hoo!

New GF Blog

Hello y'all.

I'm starting a new blog in order to keep the personal more personal (hello vacation photos!) and to separate all of my gf-related posts into their own blog. Autumn All Year will continue on as my personal blog. Gluten Free Jesus Freak is my new gf-and-Christian-related-stuff blog. Feel free to pass on the link to those you know who are living gf, especially those who are interested in how following Jesus and living gf can go together (yes, there are some solutions to the communion bread dilemma!).

The new blog: Gluten Free Jesus Freak.

(There's also a link on the right side of this blog under "Friends and Blogs I Like.")

For those of you who are not gf, now you won't have to wade through recipes and gf rants on a regular basis to get to the rest of the blogging. (I'm sure you've heard more than enough about my interactions with cranky waiters... No more for you! Hip hip hooray!)

Have no fear, Autumn All Year shall continue as usual. I'm having an extended summer break, so expect lots of updates on both!

Cheerio, friends!

Vay-Cay-Shun

 My parents took Daryl and I on a celebratory graduation and marriage reunion cruise to Mexico this May. After final exams and being apart for so, so, so long, this was the perfect present. Sleeping, eating, relaxing by the pool, reading novels, exploring Mexico - it rocked.

Because I have to eat GF, vacations can be stressful. Eating at a new non gf-savvy restaurant takes a lot of work. A LOT (inform the waiter of my issues, quiz him/her about the menu, ask again when the food arrives, and about half the time, get sick anyway...). Often it isn't restful or enjoyable at all, and I'll just sip a Coke while everyone else eats and then snack on my gf granola bars or bag of trail mix after dinner. Many areas have few (if any) restaurants that understand gluten free cooking or the dangers of cross-contamination. From a dietary standpoint, this cruise was amazing. I ordered my dinner the night before so that it could be made gf, and they cooked me special desserts on nights when everything else had gluten. Two words: strawberry pavlova. Oh. My. Goodness.

If you are a gf-er, THIS IS YOUR VACATION. Explain your food issues to your travel agent and call the cruise line in advance. Then tell your waiter and assistant waiter about your gf-status. Then sit back and eat. And eat. And eat. And feel normal like you haven't since your diagnosis. And be happy. Oh so happy.

For all other reasons (relaxing, vacationing, enjoying time together, and getting a little bit tan), it was also amazing. I had a ridiculously good time. Where else can you lie in the sun all day, get dressed up and eat a fancy dinner, and then see a show all without your wallet in hand? Our boat even had a climbing wall (which I beat Daryl up in a climbing race, I must tell you) and an ice skating rink. Ridiculous.

Parts of it were hilariously campy (i.e. the cruise director: "Are you having a good time? Are you? Huh? I can't hear you!" and the awful band by the main pool playing calypso music on a Casio keyboard...), parts were much classier than expected (who knew the ice skaters in the show would be able to do triple jumps?), and all of it was fun. Daryl had just as much fun as I did, enjoying a dodge ball tournament (crew vs. passengers!), lots of reading in the sun, and the unlimited frozen yogurt. He also found out early that there's no extra charge for additional dinner entrees. Enter steak and lobster and chicken night. Free room service for breakfast didn't hurt his affection for this vacation, either. Good thing he has a fast metabolism...

 My parents (thank you!) were paying for this vay-cay (I need not remind you of our grad-student status), but even they kept commenting that it was an amazing value. The only way you can turn a cruise into a crazy-expensive time is to frequent either the bar or the casino regularly. Otherwise it is a seriously good deal. We can't wait to go on another one, and are already talking about what we want to save for in the future... Perhaps Alaska? Anyone want to come with us?

The Finish Line

On May 3, I gave my final exams at Rider. On May 4, I graded them. On May 5, I flew to Nashville from Princeton for the final time. It was the final plane ride back to my husband after being away from him for the past nine months. It didn't come a moment too soon. I felt like I was limping in, like Dr. House after a long night on the hospital floor. Something like that.

Daryl met me at the airport with a huge hug. The last week of our long-distance marriage hadn't been too kind to him, either--in the middle of his final exams his computer crashed and he, the king of backing up files, had neglected to  back up one particular paper that he then had to rewrite from scratch. Have you heard utter despair over the phone before? I sure did, the morning that paper got eaten... Poor boy. We practically collapsed into each other's arms in the terminal.

"This has been the hardest year of my life," I said. I'm prone to large amounts of exaggeration and apocryphal storytelling, but this was the utter truth. "This has been the hardest month of that year. And this has been the hardest week of that month."

He held me for a moment, rubbed my back in that wonderful lower-back region that makes me curl up like a happy cat, then said, "Let's go get breakfast." (Yet another thing I love about him: he understands that, while food doesn't solve problems, it does help take the edge off of them...)

So we did. There was no grand celebration yet. No fireworks or large, extravagant gifts given to one another in honor of the occasion (hey, we're grad students...). There was no award from the Mayor of Marriages in honor of our survival. There was just him and me and the knowledge that we never, EVER had to do this again. We ate a leisurely breakfast of fruit and juice and then got down to the next business: packing.

We had a deadline in SoCal. My parents (thank you, thank you, thank you!), knowing how tired we would be at the end of this season, booked a cruise vacation for the four of us leaving from Los Angeles on May 9. We needed to return my friend's car to her in Monterey, CA. So after breakfast we hurriedly packed up Daryl's life from the last year in order to began the 42-hour drive from Nashville to Los Angeles via Monterey.

Daryl is, shall we say, a contemplative packer. He muses about where each item should go, thinks about each book or piece of clothing, and generally drives me (and eventually himself) crazy. So he ran the errands and I did the packing. I am speedy-packer-girl. I also have no problem throwing things - this pair of tennis shoes from high school, a shirt with holes in it, a book with serious water damage - away. That helps. So I packed. And packed. And packed and packed and packed. And we headed off for our first night's hotel (St. Louis, about 6 hours away) around 6:30pm. Ah well, it was a start.

It seemed fitting somehow to end this marathon of a season with a long drive across the country. We've done more of these than most people in the past five years of dating and marriage. Daryl dropped me off at my magazine internship in Colorado right after our undergraduate graduation. We drove to Princeton to move in. We drove to Los Angeles and back for a summer internship. And this season we ended our long separation by driving to California to see a dear friend and then get on a cruise boat. It's pretty easy to do that much driving if you know food, sun, and a pool lounge chair await you. And if you're just so overjoyed at the presence of the man you love that you'd happily drive forever if it meant it was just you and him and nothing more.

Speaking of road trips: I never know what to post on Facebook or not. I like to share what I'm up to, but sometimes it gets me in trouble. People find out I've been in town and feel hurt I didn't call or visit, even though I was only there for a day (or a few hours!). I thank people in a status only to forget one or two important ones (hurt feelings! so bad!). I overshare without meaning to, or update when I'm in a grumpy mood and sound too harsh and unpastoral. They're' tricky nowadays, these Internets.

Anyway, on our drive across the country I updated where we were every night, to keep people (including my parents) posted on our driving progress and because it's fun to update Facebook from cities across the country. Also, hooray! I wasn't in New Jersey anymore!

Because my family of friends (my fremly, as my sister Caroline calls her own) is so dear, thoughtful, and wonderful, almost everywhere I stopped I had people commenting and asking why we didn't stay with them/their family. For free! They'd feed us! Why not?

Kind gestures, to be sure, but hey: I had just lived apart from my husband for nine months. We were getting a hotel room, gosh darn it. 'Nuff said.

And so we drove. And drove and drove.

We saw this (yes, at night - no, not with the cool moon shining through it):

And lots and lots (too much!) of this:

And this strange addition to the Utah salt flats:

Daryl and his friends Chris and Steven have a special name for this piece of art, but it isn't particularly blog-appropriate. You can ask any of them yourself, if you want.

But mostly, I saw this:

Boy, was it a sight for sore eyes...

Gratitude

I'm back! As promised! Welcome to June, friends.

I have lots of updates to... update. Taking finals, vacation, moving, driving across the country, graduation, saying goodbye, starting a new chapter of life, leaving NJ (!), moving back in with my husband permanently, heading to Wisconsin for the summer. Before I get into all that (which I will, soon!), I wanted to begin with what has been at the forefront of my mind for the past month: gratitude.

This has been a crazy-difficult season of life. From being apart from Daryl to finishing my degree in Princeton to working to moving, Daryl and I have both been quite exhausted. During our most recent long drive (24 hours from Princeton to Eagle River, WI), we talked about what has gotten us through this season. People. Our dear, dear family and friends who have sacrificed, loved on us, cared for us, and blessed us. Without them, we would have probably fallen to pieces at some juncture along this long, long road. What am I grateful for at the end of this month of May?

1. A family who loves me and often knows what Daryl and I need before we ask. My parents took us on the most restful vacation of my life (a cruise! to Mexico! with special gf food!), and then came back to Princeton where my Dad and Daryl proceeded to carry every heavy thing from our apartment into the moving POD. And then they filled up our fridge. And then they let us come to WI for a couple of months to have a real summer of lake-swimming, grilling out, and craft projects. Does life get better? I submit that it does not!

2. Friends who sheltered Daryl for the past nine months. How do you thank people who you'd never even met before this August who invite your husband into their home for the year? And cook him dinner when he's losing his mind during final exams? And become dear friends? You can't... There's no language of thanks big enough for that.

3. A friend who loaned us her car for the year. Her fun, practical, cool, sunroof-equipped car. We didn't have to buy or rent a second car (read: crazy expensive for cash-strapped graduate students!). Again, how do you begin to thank someone for this?

4. Friends from Princeton. Saying goodbye was hard. These friends have brought us food and smoothies, provided incredible and insightful conversation partners, challenged us to live out our faith, and helped us with the little finishing touches of moving (Daryl carried out our last three heavy pieces of furniture assisted by three different friends, all of whom dropped everything the moment they heard we needed a bit of heavy lifting help).

5. Friends from home. It feels so good to be headed toward a summer surrounded by friends (and family!) from home. We never have enough time to visit, catch up, celebrate, and hang out. And perhaps this summer we will. Or at least, we'll have a little bit more.

6. Friends and family from CA. When we were in town we stayed with some dear, dear friends and their cute little chinchilla, Rudy. We made it to the Mother's Day celebration brunch for Daryl's dear grandma and saw almost all of the rest of his family. We had a great dinner with his mom. We visited some other dear friends, even though we were only in town for a short while. We went to Disneyland for free. You really can't beat that.

6. The little things. My final trip to the dentist in NY yielded no cavities. (If you know me well you know that's actually more of a BIG thing than a little thing). Disneyland makes gluten-free EVERYTHING for the same price as the normal stuff. I won an unexpected award at Princeton that led to a surprising check from the seminary that helped us a great deal with our move. I finally got around to getting a Princeton Public Library card and loaded up with books on tape for our long drive. Iron Man 2 was better than expected. The cats stayed healthy. There happened to be a yard sale the same day I realized we had left my old bike out of our POD (and the POD was picked up!), so I sold it for $30 in less than an hour. The little things have been so wonderful.

7. Our great God. I've said this before, but in one of her books Anne Lamott comments that her two most often-used prayers are "Help me, help me, help me" and "Thank you, thank you, thank you." I have said both of these many, many, MANY times in the past month. And Jesus is always there. And when I don't have an ounce left of strength, he provides. And when I'm at the end of my rope, he helps me hang on. And when finals threaten to make me go crazy or the distance from Daryl threatened to make me fall apart, he cared for me. The toughest seasons are often the ones of closest fellowship with the Father, and I've felt that this season. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

More to come (including LOTS of photos)! Thanks for your patience with me this May. There is lots of blogging to come this summer.

Happy June 1. Happy summer. Happy end to a season of running, running, running. As I write this the breeze off of Yellow Birch Lake is coming in my window, ruffling my hair. The cats are sitting on the window ledge watching the trees. Daryl is upstairs eating cereal and I am just about to head to breakfast. It's 10am.

Summer rocks.