Last week my friends Bonnie and Todd invited me to go with them today to Nashville to visit their family, look at real estate, and celebrate Bonnie’s birthday. Well, I’m usually a control freak, anything but spontaneous, so I hesitated. But I love Bonnie and Todd, I’ve never been to Nashville, and I’ve been trying to be more open to whatever life brings me. (Lately it’s brought me a crick in my neck, Days of Our Lives, and Friday nights with my parents.) So I said, “I’d love to go. Carpe ducking diem,” or at least that’s what the autocorrect on my phone said.

We hit the road this morning, so I’ve spent most the day in the backseat of Bonnie and Todd’s truck lusting at Bonnie’s bag of snacks, which included a box of cereal, a jar of peanut butter, and a bottle of tequila. I kept thinking, I knew I made the right decision.

Bonnie’s birthday is this coming Tuesday, so for a few hours, we jammed out to a birthday playlist she created on Spotify. On it were songs like Super Freak, Pretty Young Thing, and Billie Holiday’s Getting Some Fun out of Life. Bonnie said the playlist was all about “narcissism, woman power, and,” my favorite, “fuck this shit.” That’s a phrase Bonnie and I have used a lot the last year, since both of us want to move to a different city. (I want to move to Austin, she wants to move to Nashville.) But it’s also a phrase I’ve used a lot in therapy over the last few years, and sometimes I think it’s necessary when you find yourself in a difficult or unsatisfactory situation. I mean, if you’re stuck in a place–or with a person–that won’t let you grow, do (and say) whatever it takes to get you out of there.

Here’s a picture of Bonnie dancing in the car. I’m surprised we didn’t get pulled over for having too much fun.

When we got to Nashville, we spent the evening with Bonnie and Todd’s son Ben and his wife, Mallory. Mallory is super southern in the best way–friendly, hospitable–talks like sweet tea tastes. She said that she was obsessed with big hair, verandas, and china cabinets. I said that big hair should be pretty easy to come by with the humidity in the south, but she said that wasn’t the big hair she had in mind. Bonnie said veranda was just a fancy name for a porch. (I don’t think anyone said anything noteworthy about china cabinets, but maybe we could make that a goal for the week, which is how long we’ll be here.)

Before the evening was over, Bonnie and Todd’s other son, Tim, and two of Ben and Mallory’s friends joined us. Bonnie and I left for fast food for me and beer for everyone else, and the trip took about an hour because apparently the entire city of Nashville was at Walmart for Memorial Day Weekend. Anyway, by the time we got back, I was pretty much shot because I didn’t sleep much last night and the large cup of coffee I had from McDonald’s was doing a terrible job of propping me up. (It still is.)

But I was semi-alert for this moment, when Mallory passed her phone around to let everyone see how a local graffiti artist creatively defaced a neighborhood sign.

Tonight we are staying at Tim’s apartment. There’s a small bathroom downstairs, and you have to turn sideways to sit on the toilet. But Tim (or his roommate, Tim, which makes remembering names easy) must be pretty cool because there are glow-in-the-dark stars on the walls and ceiling, along with a picture of an astronaut, which also glows in the dark. (The picture is at the top of the blog, not glowing, so use your imagination for that part.)

Since I saw the astronaut in the bathroom about an hour ago (there’s a sentence I never thought I’d say), I’ve been thinking about how I’ve felt just a tad bit uncomfortable this evening. What I mean is that although I love everyone that I’ve met and everyone has been delightful today, this is my first time spending a week with this family, and everything is new to me. I’m not in my city, my house, with my family, in my car. I’m glad I’m here, it’s just unfamiliar.

When I first started talking to my therapist about moving to Austin, she said that moving to a new place isn’t a small thing. She said there would be a lot of loneliness, a lot of times I’d be uncomfortable. (She probably didn’t say that exact word because she says, “Uncomfortable is not an emotion.” Personally, I think it should be, but no one asked me.) Anyway, she didn’t say the trip wouldn’t be worth it, just that there would be an adjustment period. I’m sure she’s right. If I’m a little uncomfortable on a trip to Nashville with some dear friends, I’m sure I’ll be plenty more uncomfortable when I finally move out of Fort Smith.

But going back to that astronaut in Tim’s bathroom, I’m sure he felt the same way when he left the earth. It’s just what happens when you decide to do something unfamiliar, to strike out on a new adventure. Sure, you could stay at home where it’s familiar–you could stay comfortable–but anyone can stand on the earth and see the moon. Sure, it’s going to feel awkward if you decide you need a new perspective, and that applies to taking spontaneous vacations, moving to another city, or even starting therapy, just as it applies to astronauts breaking free from gravity. And maybe it takes a bottle of tequila or the right playlist on Spotify to make you say, “fuck this shit,” but before you know it, you’ll be on the road or up in the air, so far from where you started that you’ll wonder why anything ever held you back.