Drunk Girls in Cowboy Boots

9 September 2010

I had never been to the south before. Well, minus Disney World, but they don’t speak with a drawl there nor eat amazingly unhealthy food.  Let’s just say my trip to Nashville was an adventure to a culture I have never seen.

I decided last minute to hop ship for Labor Day weekend and go visit someone.  This month’s winner was a very old friend of mine from my high school years that is now a youth director at the Hillel on the University of Vanderbilt’s campus.  I had not seen her in over two years, so it was fun to go on an adventure and catch up with a very old friend.

While I was only there for 48-ish hours, they were still fun an jam-packed.  Her and I stayed up the first whole night talking and story telling, it was epic.  I even slept in until noon the next day, something I have not done for years.  We then spent the day wandering around downtown Nashville.  I have not heard that much country music or seen that many people in cowboy hats or boots in a long, long time.  Between that and the southern drawl, it was hard to find a cute girl.

The photo above is from that wander around downtown Nashville. Now people think I am random, but someone, please tell me why there is a scale replica of the Parthenon in downtown Nashville?!

I then had to spend time at my friend’s work for a all-night falafel serving-to-drunk-people party-fiesta thing.  I spent most of the time laughing hysterically at the hundreds of drunken 18 year-olds stumbling around and wonder whom they would end up going home with.  I also got countless hugs from complete strangers, and even got asked out by some girl that I don’t think could stand up straight.

The entire night was even better when we had to be back at the same building at 9am the following morning. I sat in front of the building, sipping my warm and delicious coffee, and watched person after person do the walk of shame home. I think I might have even recognized a few of them.

A quick bagel brunch and meeting a few more people later, I was whisked back to the airport to catch my flight home.  Meeting up with someone I had made friends with on the flight out.  Kind of ironic, because usually the people you meet and converse with on a flight you never see again.

And with that, my first visit to the south, my first trip since the move, and the 31st vacation since the inception of the rule was over.

Side note: After talking with some of my friends, I think I might start writing more of a proper book about my travels over my life. Look for more details soon!

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