Well, folks, I’ve been officially living Nashville for over a month now. 39 days, to be exact, and I’m doing pretty O.K. I might even venture to say “good”. I mean “well”. I’m doing pretty well. I’ve been making friends down here, more so than the last life update I posted, so I’ve been able to get out of the apartment and see the city with good company. My roommate moved out of our shared sublet, so I have the place to myself for the rest of July (I think… I’m not sure when the other dude comes back), which is really exciting. Peeing with the door open is a whole new ballgame. I’ve been trying to incorporate more of a plant-based diet into my lifestyle, and it’s working pretty well for me. I feel good. And I bought tickets to go see one of my favorite bands (Arcade Fire) in September. So that’s super dope.
But lately, I’ve been feeling something I’ve never felt before – I’m homesick. I miss Rochester so, so much. I miss my friends, I miss my house, I miss my social life, the senior design lab, my old bedroom, and so much more. I miss being in a sorority. I grew out of the rules and the pettiness, but my sorority was the first place where I felt like I was a role model. And more importantly, it was the first place in which I had found a really solid group of friends. A squad, if you will (I will). I miss coming home every day to a house full of my best friends. Three of them are moving to Boston, and the distance between us seems like so much more than the distance between Massachusetts and Tennessee. I miss cooking with them, drinking with them, crafting with them, and I even miss cleaning our big, messy house with them, because at least we were doing it together.
I miss playing Catan with my friends who spent their spring break driving across the country with me. I miss my softball team and leading practices, and seeing the looks on the newer players’ faces when they made a great catch. I miss wasting time in the Goergen design lab with my BME friends, especially because I didn’t even get acquainted with most of them until my senior year. I miss driving over to my sorority’s floor in the upperclassmen dorms, where we would sit on the porch and watch the twilight crawl in over the graveyard. I miss my friends at the Little Box. I miss it all.
The way I feel about Rochester right now is a lot different than the way I felt about Seattle after I left for college. Back then, I didn’t have people that I considered “my people”. I had friends, with some of whom I still keep in contact, but it was never as cohesive as in college. When I graduated high school, I knew there were better things out there, and I was confident I’d find more happiness in the next four years than I had before. And I was right! Don’t get me wrong – I was very ready to leave Rochester, too. I am so excited to begin a new chapter here in Nashville. By the end of undergrad, I knew that I had gained all I could from my current environment, and that it was time for me to move on. After all, I’m going to get my PhD while living in one of the coolest cities in the country. How rad is that? (I’m also excited that I’ll never have to sit in class with my bitter ex-boyfriend again, who is getting his master’s degree at U of R, but I won’t talk about that).
Nonetheless, I’m still nostalgic. Nowhere in Nashville have I found the same comfort I received from Genesee Valley Park, or Mount Hope Cemetery. My apartment may have a rooftop pool, but nothing will beat the roof I could climb onto from my bedroom window, or back porch on the second floor of Kendrick Hall. And hot chicken is great, but I’d give it up in a heartbeat for a buttery plate of Brussels sprouts shared with my old housemates.