At the urging of
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timberwolfblues, I took yesterday off from work and went down to Clarksville for the weekend because I knew we were going somewhere, but he didn't tell me where. Spent Saturday with Mom and then headed off with the boy on Sunday.
He proceeded to take me to Nashville. Tennessee.
We didn't see much of Nashville, really. But then I've not really much of a tourist. I like going places with people simply to spend time with people. Seeing ruins and museums and taking tours rarely interest me, unless we're talking about European history. Plus it was a little cold to be wandering around Nashville looking at the sites anyway. So we mostly just spent time with each other.
I enjoy beer. Lagers, ales, stouts. I enjoy good beer. None of this mainstream domestic crap. So the boy and I hit up a microbrewery where we tried their sampler, got lunch, got more beer and talked. Mostly about what I need to be doing for myself: finding a better job, moving into an apartment, deciding what I want to do with my life. Because I've got my wheels stuck in the mud, and I'm just spinning right now.
Course I'm too damn scared to try it on my own. Even though he's got more confidence in me than anyone whose seen me go completely and utterly off he deep end has any right to.
Then we drove around the city a little more. Walked along the streets and stopped into a couple of shops.
Went back out later that night to eat dinner at B.B. King's Blues Bar. Dinner was fabulous and we stayed to listen to this band that was playing there. They were great, but since the both of us are used to getting up early in the morning and going to bed early as well, we didn't stay that long.
And then the next day we got room service breakfast and drove home.
Even though we didn't do much, I had a wonderful time. It was relaxing, honest and just about perfect in every single way. And I love him for tricking me into it.
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