I had a moment of crisis last night when she was playing my song [ok, not MY song, but, you know, my song] – do I experience the moment or do I video it so I can hear it over and over again? [And, of course, I wanted you to get to see it too.]

I went video. You’re welcome.

Such a fun night… but my mind couldn’t help but rewind to March of 2010, the last time I saw Ingrid in concert. About ten of the gals loaded up and headed to the show in Knoxville. A handful of our guy friends were with this tour and so we just went into total groupie mode and drove to see the show… and honestly, to see them.

The night was perfect. The weather, the gals, seeing our boys, seeing the show. All of it.

Since that picture two years ago, three have gotten married, the two that were already married have had babies, and we have all lived and grown and stayed connected.

Only five of us made it to the show last night. But in the pitch black dark, we took a picture together.

Because Ingrid reminds us that we have history together.

When I moved to Nashville, one of the losses that I mourned so deeply was the loss of people knowing me and having “remember when” moments. And it took time to build those, but they are here. I’ve lived here almost four years now. And we are full of remember when’s.

Ingrid sang a lot from her new album last night, which I love. But it tugs at the deepest place of my heartstrings to hear her old stuff. It reminds me of a really beautiful and challenging relationship from 2010. I can hear our conversations between the lines of the songs from that old album, I can see the girls walking down the street in Knoxville, I can almost feel the tears from that season coming back.

History doesn’t always have to feel good to be appreciated. And last night was a reminder that the sweetest things in friendship are built by time.

. . . . .

Do you find that to be true? What else builds friendships?

. . . . .

This is an amazing cover by Ingrid. Enjoy.

But before I tell you about that, I gotta tell you about this.

Going shopping.

So my dear friend / stylist Amber Lehman and I popped down to the mall last week to find all the clothes for the photo shoot. We had, in the words of people other than me, a wicked good time. We laughed, we tried on outfits, we matched belts to dresses and earrings to tops.

And I bought red jeans. I AM SO TRENDY.

I can’t even get started on the discounts I got from Macy’s. Pretty much, I practically robbed them.

[The thing that will keep me out of jail after writing that sentence is "practically." I didn't really. I just got some serious sale prices.]

Amber and I high-fived and walked out of Macy’s and, as happens often in Nashville, Amber saw a friend.

As soon as said friend spoke in her cute southern drawl, I was like, “this girl is gonna be my friend.”

[Yep, that's how I make friends. I force them into it.]

Her name is Joanna Smith. She had been shopping. So had we. Amber loves her. I love Amber. That’s pretty much all I needed to suggest BFF tattoos.

She declined. Weird.

One of these things is not like the other…. meaning somebody [wearing green] doesn’t dress very fancy on a normal day. And she probably should. Also, same somebody [wearing green] has got to learn to curl her hair like everyone else does in this picture.

Amber started telling me about Joanna’s current single on country radio called “We Can’t Be Friends” and I was all, “Oh girl, I do not have time in my life for a song with that title.”

Obviously meaning that songs like that feel true x a million to me right now.

[Sigh... guy/girl friendships in your 30s in the 2010s are a complicated hot mess. At least, for me.]

So after Joanna and I decided that BFF tattoos were unnecessary but a friendship had definitely begun right there outside of the Macy’s, I came home and listened to her stuff.

Y’all.

Dang.

First of all, Amber styled this video for “Gettin’ Married” and when you watch it, you will say, “yep, that is a hilarious song and that Joanna is a doll and duh she and Annie were born to be friends.”

Then I listened to “We Can’t Be Friends” and sheesh. Her voice is supes beautiful and the lyrics are great and I could not like her sound more.

So what I’m saying is you should probably buy her EP and call your radio station and request her music and cheer for her forever.

Seriously. Isn’t Nashville the coolest town? I. Know.

[Also, I own red jeans. That needed to be stated again.]

. . . . .

I have some friends coming in town today [squeeeeal!] and I think I’m going to make them eat brunch three times in two days. I know that math doesn’t exactly work out, but I have faith in our ability to eat the right meals at the wrong times.

Because brunch in Nashville is pure joy.

Here are my Top 5 favorite brunch spots around Nashville….

1. Pancake Pantry

Similar to, but better than: International House of Pancakes

What I order: Cornmeal pancakes with honey

Don’t miss: Pancakes. Duh. Or the celebrity spotting – they love this place.

Etc.: There is almost always a line. Like a WHOA line, especially on Saturday mornings. If you can, go on a weekday or go at weird hours- it is open, serving breakfast, from 6am – 3pm [I KNOW TOO MUCH].

. . . . .

2. Sky Blue

Similar to, but better than: Waffle House [though you KNOW I love the Waffle House... this has similar types of food, just MUCH better quality]

What I order: Em’s bowl… eggs, potato, biscuit, cheese, gravy. [Do not judge me, people.] And their chai is amazing.

Don’t miss: Stuffed French Toast Pancakes. Holy sweet deliciousness.

Etc.: Sky Blue is so good but has limited seating, so go there with a back-up plan in case it is full of East Nashville peeps drinking their coffee black and talking about the music biz and their love for dogs. [I heart East Nasty. Seriously.]

. . . . .

3. Frothy Monkey

Similar to, but better than: Starbucks

What I order: Oatmeal with bananas, blueberries, and walnuts.

Don’t miss: The coffee. I’m not a coffee drinker, but for those who are, this place holds a special spot in their caffeinated hearts.

Etc.: Frothy Monkey is my jam. I love that place. So if you come to brunch there, let me know and there is a good chance we will run into each other. It’s happily happened before and will hopefully happen again.

. . . . .

4. Germantown Cafe

Similar to, but better than: your local fancy breakfast joint

What I order: shrimp and grits and I make no apologies about that.

Don’t miss: They have these yeast rolls that are rolled in cinnamon sugar. That’s all I’m gonna say about that.

Etc.: There are two locations now. You can either go to the original one in, not surprisingly, Germantown, or the new location in East Nashville. Germantown is really cute, but can get crowded. East Nashville isn’t as cute, but always has seating.

. . . . .

5. Marche

Similar to, but better than: La Madeleine

What I order: The menu at Marche changes seasonally [which I LOVE], so there is just no consistent order. But I will say this- I have never had a meal at Marche that wasn’t BEYOND. I’m sure you know what I’m trying to say there.

Don’t miss: The pastries. They are awesome.

Etc.: I fell in love with Nashville over a Marche brunch. And I fall back in love every time I go.

. . . . .

A few of these restaurants are open for more meals than just breakfast/brunch, so just tuck that info into your back pocket.

YOUR TURN!

If you live in Nashville, share your favorite brunch spot!

If you live outside of Nashville, why not tell us the best brunch place in your town?

[It's a fun weekend in Nashville- including a Dave Barnes concert tonight! If you are going to the show and you see me bee-bopping around, say hi!!]

[If you are headed to town soon, you might also want to check out my Top 5 favorite Nashville lunch spots. But I'm not the boss of you. Eat wherever you want. ]

Have a great weekend, y’all!

Or more specifically, #4thchair.

Today, I shall explain said #4thchair.

Almost every day, at some point, Lyndsay, Nichole, and I go to a local coffee shop. It’s a favorite of ours- it is where Nashville goes to work, not talk. It is as quiet as a library most of the time. No joke.

And their soy chai lattes are to be admired and revered.

Here is where we sit. Every day.

Our friend Raleigh is sitting there right now. He’s a great writer. [Also, he is currently the #4thchair, but I'm getting ahead of myself.]

So usually, it is the three of us gals. And this one day, we decided it would be fun to use social media to try to get a fourth person to come sit with us.

Sure. It was a risk. Who knows what kind of looney birds could show up? But we went for it. We all three took a picture of the empty #4thchair at our table and offered it to anyone who wanted to come sit with us.

Then we all screamed like school girls when our buddy Wes showed up and sat in the #4thchair. Nichole high-fived him immediately.

It had worked! This silly little idea had actually brought someone to fill that empty chair.

I was hooked.

The other girls? Not as much.

But we tried it a few more times…. and it just. kept. working. To the point that when people showed up, they would ask, “So do I get to be the #4thchair?”

Why yes ma’am you do.

Of course, Mr. Buzard, you are welcome in that #4thchair.

Oh, Jordan. You are so pretty in that #4thchair.

Sometimes, I tweet out the sweet #4thchair request, and it never gets filled. Which is fine. I don’t take it personally.

[The fellas really missed out on this one because Lyndsay was willing to keep her arm there.]

So that’s how #4thchair works. I have no idea why I love it so much- maybe it is the mystery of not knowing who will show up? Maybe it’s the risk factor? Maybe it is the idea that someone out there will be looking for a place to write or read or hang and they will feel welcome at our table?

No matter, #4thchair lives on. As long as the three of us sit together, we will attempt to randomly fill the empty chair at our table.

[Moral of this story: it does not take much to entertain me.]

Lucky for me, Scotland still comes up in conversation pretty often. I often get to talk about my friends there, what Crossroads Church is doing, and how I’ve adjusted to being home. [Pretty well, I think, by the way. Thanks for asking.] A lot of times people ask, “what did you miss the most about Nashville?”

When someone asks that question, I answer every time with this story.

. . . . .

About three nights after I got back to Nashville in December, a group of friends went to dinner together. In fact, we walked from our street, bundled up in coats and scarves, to Burger Up, a favorite restaurant here in town. The tables are long and you sit family style, which our neighborhood totally loves. It was dark and cold outside, but warm and cozy inside. Candles lit [in mason jars I think?] glowed on each table and the hubbub of a full restaurant was beautiful to my ears. The food was delicious [I almost always get the local salad with grilled chicken] and my friend Kris waited on us. He never acts like he is at work, he acts like he’s just glad to get some food for his friends.

Our table backed up to the bar and I looked over my shoulder at the sound of my name. Two guy friends of mine just happened to be eating too and had just realized I was there. I hadn’t seen them since I got home, so I hopped up and hugged the mess out of them both. Within minutes, another crowd of friends came in the door to eat as well and when I saw them, and looked around at my friends, and knew the boys were behind me, this thing happened on my insides at that moment.

I can’t explain it. There aren’t words. It isn’t like fireworks went off in my guts, but it kinda was. There was just about something being in a restaurant that feels like home and having your people, unplanned, all file in one after the other just because they love eating there. It was too much for my fresh-from-the-UK emotions to handle. I teared up right there at the table.

And then the owner, Miranda, walked over and put her hands on my shoulders, leaned down and said, “I’m glad you are home.”

And I was a puddle.

That’s our neighborhood. That’s our BurgerUp. Those kind of nights are what I missed the most when I was in Edinburgh.

I am so glad to be home.

. . . . .

A terrible tragedy happened this weekend at BurgerUp. There aren’t words- it is just heartbreaking. Please take a minute today and pray, really pray, for Miranda and the family of BurgerUp. This verse, this promise, has been on a loop in my mind as I think of and pray for Miranda and the staff and our neighborhood.

Psalm 34:18

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted.

. . . . .

Next time you are in Nashville, let’s meet up and grab a bite at BurgerUp - as I told you a few weeks ago, you will love everything about the food. And the people. And the company [wink.. that's me].

Sending lots of love to Miranda and the BurgerUp family… y’all have made this neighborhood a better place. 

The policy makers at Vandy have written a new nondiscrimination policy.

[That's good. Discriminating is mean.]

Except.

This particular policy says that no organizations on campus can discriminate because of the core beliefs of that organization.

For example, if an atheist wants to be a leader at a Christian organization, that organization must let the person run for leadership. Or if a leader gets elected in the spring, changes beliefs in the summer, the organization cannot remove that person from leadership in the fall.

So. That’s bad. Organizations of all kind should be allowed to decide what type of leader they have AND they should be allowed to ensure that leader adhere’s to the core beliefs of the organization.

Here is an article about an important meeting today and here is an opinion piece by a Christian leader at Vandy.

Here’s another great article explaining it way better than I did. [Seriously.]

Why do I care?

Great question.

I care because I believe God wants to move in the lives of the college students here in Nashville. I believe that the winds are changing in this town and the college students are feeling the breeze. I watch on Sunday nights at our college ministry service and I see what God is doing. And I know part of the reason I am in Nashville is to usher the presence of God into the lives of college students.

And I feel like this is a battle.

I can’t explain the feeling I have in my knower about this, but I feel like it has big implications for the future of the spiritual climate for college students at Vandy and beyond.

So I’m asking you to take three minutes today and pray for today’s meeting. Pray for religious freedom at Vanderbilt. Pray for revival to pour through these college students. Pray that this will turn the hearts of the students TOWARDS Christ.

Pray that in the meeting tonight, God would be glorified.

And would you believe, no kidding, that this is the SIXTH house I have occupied in this town?

So, mathematically speaking, that’s like moving every 7 months or so. Barf.

[I know your next question and no, I am not in the witness protection program. And even if I was, could I tell you?]

[Do you think they let people in the WPP have blogs? Maybe.]

Here’s what else is super weird about how much I have moved. Prior to going to college, do you know how many houses I lived in? ONE. My parents still live in the house they built the months before I was born.

Since going to college? ELEVEN.

I feel like there should be some good 70s lyric to insert here about me being a nomad, a wanderer, a free-spirited woman without a consistent place to lay her head…. something something flowers in my hair something something flowy skirt.

This new house in Nashville is so darlin’ and great and will be a real joy when it is not full. of. the. cardboard. boxes.

I may be a hippy wanderer, but I gotz lotz of junk.

There are a few different ways to tackle unpacking, and I’ve tried them all.

1. One box a day keeps the stress away … You can just be disciplined and unpack one single box each day. Sure, it’ll take you up to two months to unpack, but you won’t feel exhausted.

2. Today’s the day … Just do it. Every box. Everything in its place. Miserably tiring but effective.

3. I’ll figure that out later … unpack what you can, avoid the things you don’t know what to do with. [This is my preferred method of dealing with emotional pain as well, just FYI.]

4. Boxes are like storage pieces … don’t unpack. Just use the boxes. Not recommended.

5. I’ll buy the pizza … invite your friends over, let them help you unpack, and you feed them as payment.

This time, I’m doing a combo of #3 and #5, with a splash of #4 … just until I get a desk up here from Atlanta.

And being that it has been seven months since I had all my material possessions in one building, I’m excited to announce that I have only lost two things in these 217(ish) days:

1. my checkbook
2. the knobs that go on top of my four-poster bed

I do not know where they are.

But there are a few boxes left to unpack, so I’m not without hope that they will be found.

As soon as the house is done, I will give you a proper tour. I’ve done it before, for Annie Parsons. And I shall do it again.

. . . . .

Question time!

What’s your method of unpacking?

And where do you think my checkbook is?

[Sure. We could have a twelve hour debate about church picking and the theology behind that and what-have-you, but please can we not? Thanks.]

While I was still in Scotland, I emailed Wes, the college campus pastor at Cross Point, and I said, “Wes. Please. Let me volunteer for you. Puh-LEEEEZZZEE!!”

We had never met. So he said, “Rein it in, sister. Let’s have coffee first.”

So we did and I passed the test. And now I get to hang out every week at the college service and meet cool students [big waves to Hannah and the other girls!] and disciple girls and lead a small group and plan parties and all of it.

I also got to write nametags for people as they walked in last week. Meaning, I got to speak to almost EVERY.SINGLE.STUDENT. As you can imagine, I was practically drunk on excitement after that. It doesn’t take much to make me happy, people.

I learned something important about Annie while I was in Scotland. [Mixing first person and third person? You're welcome. I'm a professional.] I feel the most alive when I’m doing ministry. I just do. I wish I could just write and speak and talk with college girls about God and life and the et ceteras that come along with this phase of life.

That is my sweet spot. 

But. I still have to help set up chairs and clean up the green room and sweep. [I'm guessing... haven't done that yet, but I bet I will.] And I really try to do it with a happy heart because I don’t want to be a nightmare volunteer.

But that is not my sweet spot. Not even a little bit. I call that my “sweep spot” – doing the thing you don’t want to do but needs to get done. And even though I find so much joy in college ministry, I don’t love the parts of ministry that aren’t fun.

[Hi. I'm Annie. I'm super mature.]

When it comes to church service, what is the right thing to do?

Do you pursue and seek out your sweet spot? Or do you just look at what needs to be done and step into that sweep spot?

We all have limited hours to serve… so how do you pick?

I’ve been thinking about this so much lately. I watch some of my friends serve constantly throughout their church, doing the yucky stuff. And while it is impressive, I also wonder if they are tapping into that firey spot in your knower that says, “I WAS MADE TO BE RIGHT HERE.”

But I know that some people really do feel like their sweet spot is the sweep spot. Which I find amazing.

And there are others [not me of course... ahem.] who tend to lean towards the idea that if that fire isn’t raging and I’m not passionate about it, I don’t want to do it.

And by the way, isn’t our human nature SO annoying that we get tired of serving at all? I think that is super annoying. I wish my flesh didn’t scream for relief every time I’m doing something I don’t love. Sheesh, for that matter, even when it is stuff I love there are times when my flesh screams “GO LAY ON THE COUCH AND WATCH THE BACHELOR!”

[We have GOT to talk about Ben. Soon and very soon.]

So I’m putting the question out there to you.

When you are serving at church, do you look for your sweet spot or do you look for a sweep spot?

Is your sweet spot the sweep spot?

Do you pursue serving in your strengths or do you find that serving anywhere better reveals your strengths?

Have you found your sweet spot? What is it?

Tell me how you serve.

I only know because one of my besties in Nashville birthed a baby the same day I got on a plane. So yesterday, when she tells me, “Yep, he’s eight weeks old exactly,” my brain immediately thinks, “Man, I’ve been home for eight weeks and a day.”

Which means, God bless ‘em, I’ve been living with a married couple for eight weeks while I’ve been trying to find my next home. Sure, I didn’t think it would last eight weeks, but alas. It has.

We’re gonna call them The Givers. That is not their real name.

No reason to expose their real identity because….

• they never signed up to be blog fodder
• they live a bit more quietly than I do
• when you hear how great my life has been, you’re gonna want to move in with them too and they aren’t into running a bed and breakfast.

It has been a blast. I can’t even tell y’all. They are some of the most generous and wonderful people I’ve ever known. And something I’m growing to learn about myself is that I totally love co-habitating.

[Probably the more appropriate term is "community living" but co-habitation is just way funnier. But you know what I mean.]

Here’s why co-habitation with The Givers has been awesome.

1. They buy the kind of popcorn that just say “BUTTER” and it is delicious.

2. When I sign up to make approximately 150 cake balls for a wedding, there are people to work in that factory.

3. We all love the same TV shows. So when the three of us settle into the house at night, there is no awkward “who gets to watch what they like” moments. We just start the DVR and all are pleased.

[Caveat: They don't DVR The Waltons. But I don't mind.]

4. Living with a boy who is married to one of my dearest friends is awesome. I can ask him guy questions. “When that boy texted that, what did he mean?” and the like. So pretty much, the conversations my other guy friends avoid, Mr. Giver can’t avoid. Because he lives with me. Boom.

5. There are a few pair of eyes that can work on the puzzle.

6. Mrs. Giver is a counselor. AnnieBlogs is an over-emoter. These things work well together. [More for me than for her.]

7. I’ve learned so much from living with them. For example, Mr. Giver is a big believer in pro-active conversations so that we don’t have reactive conversations.

Example.

Mr. Giver: “Annie, we love you being here. Have you found a place to live? We’re not tired of you yet.”

Annie: “Mr. Giver, thank you for your kindness. I’m still actively looking. Hopefully soon. But I love living here.”

And scene.

No emotions. No freak outs. No kick outs. Just a proactive convo. Love it.

8. There is almost always someone to talk to…. proving once again, I have issues.

. . . . .

These last eight weeks have taught me a lot about how I want to live. I want to be generous and giving even beyond what is normal. [Yikes... I should have been out of there WEEKS ago. Bless them.]

I move out Friday into my own place. And the miracle of it all? We are all sad.

My tip to you, person who thinks it would be cool to stay with some friends for a while? Leave before you want to and leave before they want you to leave.

Also. Restock their popcorn.

. . . . .

I love when people email me questions about Nashville.

It is like when someone asks you to brag about your siblings or your kids or your own personal best friend’s accomplishments. Meaning, I love talking about Nashville.

When you lovelies come to town [and I love when you do], you always want to know where to eat, where to play, and where to hear the best music.

So today I’m going to tell you my favorite places to eat lunch.

See, we eat out a lot here. Like, A LOT. Because so many of us are singlets and we love to hang together, we have managed to find a few great lunch joints that don’t cost a pretty penny but are totes delish.

[Uh oh. Nash talk. Sorry.]

So in no order of preference, here are my top 5 favorite lunch spots in Nashville.

. . . . .

1. Baja Burrito

Similar to, but better than: Moe’s Southwest Grill

What I order: A chicken taco, chips, and a drink

Approximate cost: $5

Don’t miss: The roasted tomato salsa or the fruit tea.

Etc.: Do you know this thing I speak of? Fruit tea? It’s amazing and it is EVERYWHERE in this town. These restaurants will each woo you with their unique blends of tea, orange juice, other juices, and awesome. And Baja’s is one of the best.

. . . . .

2. McDougal’s

[The website is, well, lacking. But it gives you the address, which is necessary.]

Similar to, but better than: Zaxby’s

What I order: Grilled chicken salad, no red onions, ranch dressing on the side.

Approximate cost: $7

What not to miss: If you like spicy, they have great honey-spicy stuff. But as for me and my house, we will not eat spicy. Also, you get a tiny dollop of ice cream at the end. Don’t forget to get that thang.

. . . . .

3. Burger Up

Similar to, but WAY better than: Ted’s Montana Grill

What I order: The local salad with grilled chicken

Approximate cost: $11

What not to miss: Sweet potato fries. And fried pickles. And the woodstock burger. Dang, just eat there a few times and order something different every time. You won’t be mad about it.

. . . . .

4. Edley’s

Similar to, but better than: your average BBQ joint

What I order: They have a special every day, and I usually get coerced by my emotions to get that. But if not, the turkey BBQ sandwich is my choice.

Approximate cost: $8

What not to miss: The coleslaw. It’s vinegar based, which makes me terribly happy.

Etc: Edley’s is brand new, but has won our neighborhood over like whoa. I say that to say, I haven’t tasted everything there, but my friends certainly have [my people go there EVERY DAY], and it is all amazing.

. . . . .

5. The Grilled Cheeserie

Similar to, but better than: I mean, is there a comparison to a truck that drives around town and makes amazing grilled cheese sandwiches? Me thinks not.

What I order: The basic grilled cheese and tomato soup

Approximate cost: $8

What not to miss: The truck. It parks somewhere different every day, so you need to check their facebook page to see where they are parked. Tricky stuff, restaurants with wheels.

. . . . .

[If you are headed to town soon, you might also want to check out my Top 5 favorite Nashville brunch spots. But I'm not the boss of you. Eat wherever you want.  ]

YOUR TURN!

If you live in Nashville, share your favorite lunch spot!

If you live outside of Nashville, why not tell us the best lunch place in your town?