Adios, Nashville (Year 1)

Ah, moving. Brings out the sentimentalist in a gal—and the realization that I have some serious hoarder tendencies. (I told a co-worker just last week that moving wouldn’t be too difficult because “I’m a minimalist.” Kids, take that as a lesson that when you try to be all breezy and superior, you usually end up just being wrong and dumb.)

One of the pack-rat items that I should get rid of are old journals. Man, oh man, to be reminded of thoughts from when I was 16 is cool and terrifying all at the same time. After a little internal debate, I decided that I just can’t get rid of those memories. So fasten your seatbelts, journals, you’re moving to Dallas too.

Each of the three years I’ve lived in Nashville have been so different and growing. And thanks to these new-found journals (it really is a wonder the things to be found under one’s bed), I’ve been able to relive some of the highs and lows during my time in this city. So, I decided to share one journal entry from each year. Some may be funny. Some may be sad. Some may be prayers. But I think it’s a beautiful thing to remember and take joy in the journey. Enjoy…

YEAR 1: FIRST YEAR OUT OF COLLEGE: MOVED TO NASHVILLE WITH NO JOB/HOME/FRIENDS: AGE 22-23: 2012-2013

July 6th 2013
Here’s what you’ve missed (so freakin’ much): 
1) That “no-makeup in June” thing lasted a weekend. Not exaggerating. I’m sure my complete failure says a million bad things about my character/self-esteem, but frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.
2) Ericka’s wedding in Nebraska was the highlight of my summer. It was so fun and so great to be back with people who really know me. Missed my pals. Missed those wide-open spaces. It felt like home.
3) On Monday I started having really intense menstrual cramps and passed out at work. Sweet Miriam, whose office I passed out in, called 911, and some friendly EMT dudes wheeled me out on a stretcher to Baptist Hospital. If you were to categorize this story, it would be in the folder labeled “Worst Young Adult Ever.” 
4) It’s been a bad week. And a hard year.
5) I thought I was moving in with roommates this year, but it’s not so certain now. I’m ready to have community and accountability, but God is in control.
6) I haven’t been treating God like God lately. He’s been a back-burner thought. I’ve been so stupid. I need the Lord so, so badly. I don’t want to even imagine a life without Him, yet I’ve been ignoring Him for a while. I’m prideful. I’m selfish. I’m oh, so human. I’m sorry, Father. I need You for everything. 

Well, there you have it. Year one. It was a doozy and a character-builder. If I’m being honest, it wasn’t filled with super fun stories or exciting new experiences. If anything, I remember being really scared that first year—like all the time. And super broke. And deeply lonely. But there were also amazing blessings, like my first apartment. Oh, how I loved that place. Best case scenario for a Craigslist find. Another positive was realizing I was tougher than I thought (a valuable lesson that is absolutely terrible to learn). So cheers to you, Year One. Here are some pictures, because nostalgia is nothing without pictures. (And in case you’re wondering, yes, I really did pass out at my job due to menstrual cramps.) SAM_0019 IMG_0674 photo-3 IMG_0951 IMG_0971 IMG_1088IMG_1259 IMG_1862 IMG_1864 IMG_2082 IMG_2087That last picture has a story. Went for a lunchtime walk; started pouring outside; turns out yellow cotton is see-through when wet. Although my dress didn’t photograph sheer, IT WAS. So, I sucked up my pride (and sucked in my stomach, because sheer dress!!!) and ran as fast as I could to my 4th floor office, only encountering a few unfortunate souls along the way.

Kat

Currently listening to “New Slang” by The Shins

Quittin’ Time

I quit my job this past week.

This job, my first out of college, was good to me. I learned a lot about maturity, integrity, and confidence. It was an environment that was gracious to me when I failed (and fail I did—especially that first year) and it allowed me opportunities other publishing houses wouldn’t give a green recent grad.

But the time has come. The ol’ Lone Star state is calling my name, and you just don’t say no to Texas. Thus, I quit my first job and am moving to Dallas in four short weeks.

Though “moving on” is a normal and often healthy part of life, I still struggled with the idea of quitting. My job is unique in that I’m not just an Editor; I’m an Editor of Sunday School curriculum. I am in ministry, of sorts.

Let me tell you, I’ve wrestled with quitting this ministry/job for a while. I desperately want to do what God wants me to do, but sometimes that path is “clear as mud,” as these Tennesseans would say. Ultimately, I realize that the gospel being shared isn’t riding on the fact that I am an Editor of Sunday School curriculum, and the Lord placed a neat opportunity in my lap to move near family. I prayed about it, and though still unclear, God didn’t ever tell me no. If anything, things just worked out. I know He is sovereign and will be with me regardless of where I land. And so, I quit.

Because very few people knew I was quitting, I didn’t have a lot of friends to confide in before the official announcement to my bosses. I have the people-pleasing tendencies of a golden retriever, so naturally, I was a nervous wreck. So what did I do? Well, I closed my office door and apparently channeled my inner Kim Kardash. I think the official selfie equation goes something like this:

Ball of Nerves + No one to talk it out with =

Documenting the moment with selfies

In theory, I am against the selfie trend. But I just had to show someone my anxiety, and I’m sorry to say: that someone is you.

Oh, and I might have listened to “Girl on Fire” by Alicia Keys to boost my lacking confidence. You remember how I said I learned maturity through my time in the workforce the past few years…just scratch that.

Selfie #1. Sadly, the most respectable of the bunch. I think it says something along the lines of “I’m pretending to be excited, but I’m really just scared and have crazy eyes.”

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Selfie #2. Probably the most accurate photo to what I was actually feeling in that moment, which was that I had to go to the bathroom and wanted to cry.

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Selfie #3. And the “holy cow, I’m about to quit my job” mirror selfie. New low.

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So here’s to ends. and beginnings. and in betweens. So grateful for the journey thus far.

KAT

Currently listening to “My Girls” by Animal Collective

Snow Day. Snow Kidding.

On my to-do list:

1) Buy a new Clarisonic brush head. It’s really, really time.

2) Laundry. And if not laundry, then a trip to Target for new underwear.

3) BLOG.


Because it’s a snow day and ice skating to the local Sephora and/or Target is no easy feat, I’ll try to knock out number three on the list. So welcome to my blog. Written for my sister’s amusement. Named after my car. Hosted by a quasi-adult named Kat Williamson.


This week, Middle Tennessee experienced a side of winter it is not so familiar with. I believe the weather channel called it a “wintery mix.” Sounds like festivity; feels like snow. It’s funny, snow truly brings out the worst and best in life. Let’s dig into that a little more, shall we?


Worst:

Power outages, windshield scrapings, busted water pipes, the ever-so-humbling falling on ice fiascos…the list could go on, but let’s stop there.


Best:

Meeting new neighbors while you bond over the hell that is scraping ice off a windshield, spontaneously receiving a day to stay at home and park it on the couch, watching people’s concern for the safety of others (wish this happened regardless of the weather), drinking copious amounts of coffee to warm yourself from the inside, playing in the snow like a 10-year-old (see below for further clarification).

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KAT

 (Listening to “Hello My Old Heart” by The Old Hellos)