#13 Crockpots Are Cool Again

**Disclaimer: The following posts are lessons, tips, tricks, or just things I have noticed since moving to Nashville. I make no promises that this information will be relevant to you at all. In fact, some of the lessons are downright ridiculous. But maybe, just maybe we’ll learn something together.

I know what you’re thinking.

“When were crockpots NOT cool?”

Well I don’t have an answer for you, but ever since Fulmer got one for Christmas (which, btw is one surefire sign you are officially an adult–when you get a crockpot for Christmas and are excited about it) we have been trying different recipes and marveling over the genius that is the pot de crock.

And since we decided to get more domestic in oh-10 (taking in a stray cat was NOT an original part of the plan), we’ve used the crock pot to ease us into this womanly world of culinary craftsmanship (you are welcome for the alliteration) . So far we have made spicy peppered chicken, buffalo chicken dip, chilli and have Grandpa Fulmer’s pulled pork recipe ready and waiting for our next jaunt.

There’s something so mysterious and magical about dumping a bunch of ingredients into a pot, walking away, and coming home to a delicious dinner.

That’s my kind of cooking.

What’s your fav crockpot recipe? Share it here and lets crock together.

LR

#12 If You Are Not Careful You Will Fall Prey to the Double Meat

**Disclaimer: The following posts are lessons, tips, tricks, or just things I have noticed since moving to Nashville. I make no promises that this information will be relevant to you at all. In fact, some of the lessons are downright ridiculous. But maybe, just maybe we’ll learn something together.

When I say Subway I bet you think a lot of things.

Maybe you think of New York.

Maybe you think of Jared and his giant pants and ridiculous commercials.

Maybe you start hearing the ‘5 dollar footlong’ song in your head.

I’m not here to judge, but I’m betting the words ‘double meat’ didn’t come to mind.

“What is double meat?” you ask?

Exactly my point.

It is a mysterious, sneaky, underhanded practice of some Subway workers and it will strike when you least expect it.

This is that story.

There we were, in line at Subway, minding our own business.

Lauren orders. Turkey on wheat.

I order. Turkey on Asiago.

Annie orders. Club sandwich without ham.

We move through the condiment and veggies and checkout; first Lauren, then me, then Annie.

Only, when she is rung up, her total is $11.34

Um. $11 dollars? At Subway? That’s like spending $73 dollars at the dollar store.

When she inquired as to why her 6 inch Club was 11 dollars the woman looked at her and said, “Well, it was double meat, right?”

“Um, no,” said Annie in complete confusion, “I don’t know what that even means”

“You said no ham, so we doubled the turkey and roast beef” said the sandwich maker guy, confirming the double meat operation.

We were outraged.

She had been double meat-ed without even knowing it.

And if it can happen to Annie, it can happen to anyone.

So this is a lesson and a warning: Beware, beware of the double meat.

LR

Post Script

I picked back up an old classic last night upon recommendation.

A.W. Tozer’s “The Knowledge of the Holy”.

Um. I had completely forgotten how incred this book is.

So I wanted to break the series mold for a second and share a quote in it from a monk named Anselm of Canterbury. It’s a jaw dropper. Read it through a few times and, well, crap– theres no other way to say it–marinate on it. (minus 2 points for usage of overtly christian slang)

“Let me seek Thee in longing,

let me long for Thee in seeking;

let me find Thee in love,

and love Thee in finding”

Boom.

LR

#11 I Use Music to Force Myself to Have a Good Attitude

**Disclaimer: The following posts are lessons, tips, tricks, or just things I have noticed since moving to Nashville. I make no promises that this information will be relevant to you at all. In fact, some of the lessons are downright ridiculous. But maybe, just maybe we’ll learn something together.

Every now and then, believe it or not, I have a bad day.

And on those bad days, I tend to have a bad attitude (badittude).

And when I have a badittude I try really hard to shake myself out of it because my mom always told me a frown was bad for my health.

So how have I done it since living in Nash?

Through one song and one song only:

“Perfect Day” by our dear friends, Lady Antebellum.

I dare and defy you to play this song and not–even if it’s only momentarily–feel better about life and your day.

It has worked for me half a dozen times and I expect it to be even more potent when it warms up and I can roll my windows down and try and sing like Hillary.

You’re welcome in advance, world.

LR

#10 God Made Zumba

**Disclaimer: The following posts are lessons, tips, tricks, or just things I have noticed since moving to Nashville. I make no promises that this information will be relevant to you at all. In fact, some of the lessons are downright ridiculous. But maybe, just maybe we’ll learn something together.

Well looks like the drought is over.

And no I’m not talking about my dating life (although the two could be related).

I’m talking about my gym drought.

I finally broke down and, well–let’s not say the amount of months it has been since I cancelled my Chicago gym membership–finally strong-armed myself into finding a gym in Nash.

The point is, I did it. I hopped back on the horse, I got my groove back, I found my sea legs (I realize none of these expressions actually work…well  maybe the first one)

And true to form I went all out (I am a woman of extremes. Deal with it.)

Annie and I hit the ground hard and did 30 mins of cardio followed by….

…wait for it…

….                …

a Zumba class.

Now, for those of you who don’t know what Zumba is, let paint you a picture: it’s salsa meets cardio kickboxing meets dropping it like it’s hot (all of which I happen to adore)

According to an official definition it is an aerobic fitness program originating in Columbia in the 1990s.

Um, sold.

At one point we were doing body rolls followed quickly by a grapevine which led to jumping jacks. You never. stop. moving. So methinks tomorrow I will not. be. able. to. move.

But I’m back in the habit (which also happens to be the subtitle for Sister Act 2), and I think God made Zumba because it was hard work, hysterical and made me feel alive. And that has his fingerprints all over it.

I hope there is Zumba in heaven. I also hope there are fountains of cheese but that’s neither here nor there.

I also decided that if the aforementioned drought ends I am going to make my next beau take a Zumba class with me as punishment for something. Yes, I realize that making plans to get even with a person I haven’t even met yet is a little twisted. But come on, imagine a guy doing a shoulder-shimmy-stanky-leg combo to the sounds of tribal drums.

See?

Lessonz and stuff,

LR

#9 People Don’t Like Cats

**Disclaimer: The following posts are lessons, tips, tricks, or just things I have noticed since moving to Nashville. I make no promises that this information will be relevant to you at all. In fact, some of the lessons are downright ridiculous. But maybe, just maybe we’ll learn something together.

Well this one doesn’t come as too much of a shocker, but it’s true: people do not like cats.

In fact, some people hate them.

For the record, I am a dog person. But when we saw a starving cat limping across the road on Saturday, I fully supported Clare’s desire to save it.

Or her, rather. Turns out the cat is a she and weighed in at a meager 3 lbs. (For those of you keeping score at home, Fulmer’s cat Sophie weighs in at 25-30 lbs)

I mean, you guys, I guarantee that you have never seen a more pathetic looking little thing. And she is deaf too. And has a respitory infection. In fact, when she tries to meow she sounds like Darth Vader.

But come ON, what would you have done? Exactly.

So we took her in, and named her Papouli. Then changed it to Mimsy. (In honor of the cross eyed cat that lived with us at our house in Kenya)

And our friends’ responses to this have been surprisingly hateful…mostly from the men.

Here is a brief sampling:

Adam: “Oh yes, because that’s exactly what you need.”

Brad: “You’re not gonna keep her, are you?”

Stunkle: “Stray cat?! REALLY?”

Andy: “Can you just put her in the basement?”

I mean, I don’t think we’re crazy here…I think we’re heroes.

And look at this little face:

Perhaps this lesson is that people are more cold hearted than I thought? Or perhaps just that men in general are cold hearted towards God’s creatures. You decide.

LR

#8 It is Important to Clean the Lint from Your Dryer

**Disclaimer: The following posts are lessons, tips, tricks, or just things I have noticed since moving to Nashville. I make no promises that this information will be relevant to you at all. In fact, some of the lessons are downright ridiculous. But maybe, just maybe we’ll learn something together.

..,especially if the previous occupants in your house were grungy boys in their late 20s.

So..umm..after living in the house for less than a few weeks, and using the dryer only a few times, something happened that will certainly shock and disgust you as much as it did us… Yes, this is the amount of lint we found in the dryer.

Yes, that is our coffee table a quarter filled with lint from said dryer.

Yes, the dryer broke.

Yes, it cost us $189 that we don’t have.

Yes, lesson learned.

LR

See for yourself:

#7 You Can’t Hide Your GTL from Your Roommate When Your Rooms Are Connected

**Disclaimer: The following posts are lessons, tips, tricks, or just things I have noticed since moving to Nashville. I make no promises that this information will be relevant to you at all. In fact, some of the lessons are downright ridiculous. But maybe, just maybe we’ll learn something together.

This lesson got its title from the infamous, glorious, jersey shor-ious, reality show; MTV’s Jersey Shore.

Don’t even get me started on the beautiful disaster that is this show.

The nicknames, the accents, the fist pumps.

I digress.

The point of this lesson revolves around something I’m a wee bit reluctant to discuss…..self tanning.

Don’t judge me just yet. In the winter, when I’m rocking a pale that would blind a blind man, desperate times call for desperate measures.

So I sometimes find happiness in a little can of glow. So sue me.

Fulmer and I used to call this practice “going to the beach” but as soon as we saw the episode of Jersey Shore where the dudes describe their daily ritual of “gym, tan, laundry” as “GTL” we (of course) started referring to it as GTL too.

And because I have to share more details to get to the point of my lesson, I’m going to tell you that sometimes we GTL before bed to let the little ‘glow’ set in. As my roommate for some 4+ years, this behavior normally wouldn’t make her blink twice, but that night, after Fulms and I had said ‘Goodnight’ and shut our doors (one of which connects our two bedrooms) I saw my walgreens bag and took out the recently purchased can of self tanner.

This is where I made a fatal error in judgement.

Being too lazy to go to the bathroom to spray, I decided to try a quick little GTL right there in my room. (Stop judging me. Stop it right now!)

Fulms mustve heard the spraying noise because all of the sudden I heard laughter from the other room and she yelled, “Are you secretly GTLing in your room?”

Busted.

Totally busted.

And ashamed.

But glowing. Subtle-y, shimmering-ly glowing.

I win.

LR

#6 Whenever I Fill my Tank with Gas I Miss the El

**Disclaimer: The following posts are lessons, tips, tricks, or just things I have noticed since moving to Nashville. I make no promises that this information will be relevant to you at all. In fact, some of the lessons are downright ridiculous. But maybe, just maybe we’ll learn something together.

The title in this one mostly says it all.

And as much as I love having my own set of wheels again (if only just because I can listen to music with the windows down and drive through to get big DCs) I don’t like paying for gas, or insurance, or brake repairs.

And there was just something wonderful about the Chicago ‘L’. It was a simple delight to get on the el and have it chauffeur you wherever you need to go while you listen to your ipod and daydream.

And let’s face it, the people watching on the El is about 100 xs better than people watching in my Taurus.

Lesson learned? Grass is always greener.

LR

#5 It Snows Here

**Disclaimer: The following posts are lessons, tips, tricks, or just things I have noticed since moving to Nashville. I make no promises that this information will be relevant to you at all. In fact, some of the lessons are downright ridiculous. But maybe, just maybe we’ll learn something together.

Color me pissed when I moved from snowy Chicago to a southern state where winter was supposed to be a walk in the park but instead its more like a walk in a frozen tundra from the early 1900s where things like plows hadn’t been invented yet.

Since moving here the winter has delighted me with the following :

• School got cancelled at least a dozen times
• My flight to see Meggie: cancelled
• I was literally snowed in for two days. I straight up ran out of Diet Coke. Then out of wine.  At this point I recall yelling “Now what?!” as I shook my fist at the sky.
• The local stores ran out of sleds. Which is why the local ant sledding hill was being tubed down on plastic storage bin lids. I may or may not have participated.
• General chaos and mayhem has set in at every sign of a snowflake.
• Work and church has been cancelled
• I went to Anthropologie on Friday at 1pm and it  was closed “due to weather”
• I have seen multiple groups of people pull each other on sleds behind their trucks down the main street. And twice I was invited to do so. (what can i say? I look like a rebel)

This was a hard but mostly hilarious lesson to learn about this town. But seriously, TN, let’s get back to that 50-60 degree winter I was promised.

Thank you and good day.

LR