3 Ways My Nashville Life is Way Better than My NYC Life:

Target.  I was a frequent shopper at the Astor Place Kmart, out of proximity and pure necessity.  However, I never realized what my big-box shopping life was missing until I had easy access to Targets.   Sure, there is a Target at the Atlantic Center in Brooklyn, but I never went there.  I envisioned long lines, empty shelves, and rude people.  I could get all that at Kmart without having to get on the subway.

Shopping at suburban Targets is a dream.  They have everything – paper towels, sunglasses, belts, socks, diet soda, diapers, clothes for my kids, clothes for me.   The aisles are wide, the carts are huge but easy to push, and the people are friendly.  My first visit to a Target made me feel like I had been living in East Berlin in the early 1980s up until then.  Target is capitalism at its best.

Moreover, I no longer have to limit myself to buying only what I can schlep down St. Marks Place to my apartment.  I can buy in bulk to my heart’s content and just put it all in my trunk.   Sorry Astor Place Kmart, you pale in comparison to my suburban Targets (particularly the ones that have Starbucks in them).

Diet Soda.  I spent my adult years in NYC, but my childhood was spent in the Midwest.  One Midwest habit I have yet to break is my love of diet soda.  I love diet soda, and now that I’m in the south, I’m no longer ashamed to admit it.

In NYC, I hid my aspartame addiction.  I was ashamed that my breakfast, even if it is a healthy one, always includes a diet soda (or two).   I could sense my coworkers’ judgmental glances every time the “pssssd” sound of a diet soda cracking open emanated from my desk.   I used to hide diet soda bottles in my desk drawer so that my coworkers wouldn’t realize how many I drank a day.

To add to the problem, my soda of choice, Diet Mt. Dew, was hard to find in NYC.  In fact, during the mid-90s, I’m pretty sure it was easier to score most drugs than Diet Mt. Dew in the East Village.  And when I did find it, in order to hoard it, I had to schlep it anywhere from a half mile to a mile, and then up several flights of stairs to my apartment.

Here in Tennessee, I’m no longer ashamed.  I’m not proud of my diet soda intake, and I do know it isn’t good for me.   However, I’m pretty sure I’m not the only person in my office who has soda for breakfast, and our office fridge often contains Diet Mt. Dews that aren’t mine.  I can buy my soda in bulk so that there’s never a shortage.  And rather than lectures about how bad diet soda is for me, my work has deemed Diet Mt. Dew  a “healthier” choice in the vending machine.   Nashville, I have found my diet soda forever home.

 

Washer/dryer.  My washer and dryer are probably my most prized possessions.  I was nearly 35 years old before I got my first washer/dryer.  In NYC, and for my first year and a half in Nashville, I schlepped 40 pounds of laundry to a laundromat about every 6 weeks.  I had lots and lots of underwear, tights, and socks to get me through those 6 weeks, and I re-wore clothes several times before washing them.

In NYC, I often stretched laundromat trips to closer to 8 weeks apart by dropping off underwear, socks, tights, gym clothes, and other things I didn’t care about losing/getting damaged.  I paid about $25 to have someone else wash and nicely fold my stuff in the span of a couple of hours. Doing it myself would have cost about $12 in quarters, and when you factor in the hours it would take me to do my laundry, the laundry service practically paid for itself.

When I first moved to Nashville, I looked for a similar service.  When I asked my coworkers if they could recommend such a place, I clearly came off as an entitled East Coast bitch who was too good to do her own laundry.   I did find a place, and after they charged me $80 for what would have cost me $25 in NYC, I never went back.  My Nashville salary does not support such luxuries.

But now, I have a washer/dryer.  Some people complain about laundry, but when it’s in your house, and virtually free, I don’t understand what there is to gripe about.  It’s so easy and convenient.   And, with two small kids, it is an absolute necessity.    In fact, today, my younger son puked upwards of 8 times – all of me, all over him, all over my bed, all over his bed.  What would have done without a washer/dryer?