Hello, I love you. Won’t you tell me your name?

So here it is!  My first blog post!  YAAAAAAAY!

Ok, maybe that was a little over the top, but what the hell, right? It’s exciting. I’ve been thinking about writing this blog since I made the move to Nashville. I wanted to communicate in a different way with family and friends back in Indianapolis and beyond; I wanted all the people who have asked me over the last 6 months “How’s Nashville?” to have a place to go in case they are curious again. Add in the bonus that this blog offers a sort of journaling expression, which my fake-psychology degree from WebMD.com University says is very valuable, and I decided that was enough justification. I should have a blog.

A background-info introduction is on the “About Me” page link at the top of your screen.  Buuuuuut to give you a quick summary my name is Kim Richwine.  I grew up near Indianapolis, Indiana and after adult-life’s twists and turns (most of which took place during a 5 year period of living alone and single in Downtown Indy) I find myself in the heart of Music City, USA.  From a city of race cars to a town of twangin’ bars I’ve lived in two downtown apartments over the past several years.  I came to be a downtown girl after I growing up on a farm.  Ironic, no?  My dad calls me the “City Girl” in the family, and I guess he’s right.  However I’d like to think that I’ve taken some of that country background with me on this journey.  In my opinion every good girl and woman SHOULD have a closet full of stiletto heels next to their cowboy boots.  Right?

So, then, how did I get to Nashville?

Good question! Allow me to explain in short, organized bullet points for those with short attention spans.

  • I went to a pretty blonde friend’s wedding in Panama City Beach, FL the last weekend in September of 2010.  Her name is Lisa.
  • At a party following the rehearsal dinner, I had a few. I yelled “DANCE WITH ME!” to a guy who looked like he was game for just about anything.
  • The guy had just sung a rather smokin’ Karaoke version of The Black Eyed Peas’ “My Humps” and it hit me that this was my kind of guy.
  • “Who is this guy?” you ask.  “He is the cousin of my pretty blonde friend,” I reply.  
  • We had fun, but went our separate ways until after the reception, at which point we chatted for a couple of hours.
  • He asked for my number, and, with the necessary amount of aloofness, I gave him my real one.  A rare and unusual move at that point in my life.
  • He texted within 30 minutes, but I didn’t text back until the next day. It was good text.
  • It was good enough that we have talked everyday since.

There was only one hitch in the giddy-up: he lived about 280 miles away in Nashville. Yep. We did it. We started one of those dreaded, ever-feared, long-distance relationships. And it worked without too much strain! He’s fun and laidback enough that we didn’t stress each other out with the typical “I’m here and you’re there” relationship crap.

Many stories will follow in more posts.  The first date, Bill’s lack of game when it comes to flirting, my sarcasm…. Iiiiiiiii mean sweetness throughout this whole ordeal, etc.  But like I said it worked! 

In fact, it worked so well that we made it a whole year—which is when he asked me to move in with him. In Nashville. 280 miles away from my family, friends, and the city I loved. Right before the Super Bowl was to be hosted in Indy. I held out until after the big game was over, so, on February 7, 2012, the day after the Indianapolis Super Bowl and about 5 months after he asked, I turned in my keys to an apartment I loved and made the final drive from my old home to what would be my new home.

It’s only been 6 months, but I’ve already gathered funny stories, apartment decorating advancements, and the budding love of my new favorite website – Pintrest. So buckle up and consider this metaphorical road trip put into drive. This is gonna be fun.


One thought on “Hello, I love you. Won’t you tell me your name?

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