Topic: Friendship

Hi, I’m new here. Sort of.

By Nicole Kelly | May 7, 2009 |

Nicole Kelly

You guys? This is hard.

I haven’t spent any significant amounts of time here since high school, my old friends have scattered to various parts of the country for one reason or another, and so I really feel as if I’m starting over in a new city. In the short time that I’ve been back I’ve managed to find two jobs and procure myself this column, but I’m still trying to figure out how 20-somethings new to the area meet people and get involved in the community.

And oh, it pains me to admit it, but meeting people in Clarksville has so far proved surprisingly harder than I thought it would. And I just don’t understand it.

When I got here about three weeks ago, fresh from 2 weeks in my most recent home of New York City and nine months of gallivanting around Latin America, I had high hopes for a summer—the first in about 5 years—spent in my surrogate home town, the place where I went to middle and high school, the place I swore I’d never live in again.

No offense.

It’s just that I like cities. Big cities. I like art and music and literature and feminist activism and multiculturalism. For these reasons, I like New York. I like Barcelona. I like Oaxaca and Mexico City—all cities where I have lived or spent much time in since graduating from Northeast in 2003 and heading north of the Mason-Dixon/south of the border. «Read the rest of this article»

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‘Serendipity,’ friendship fuel change

October 20, 2007 |

Twice in the past fifteen years I’ve answered a very specialized call for help from a friend in New England, a friend of thirty years standing who works hard, writes harder, and panics rarely. He panicked, with good cause. And so I found myself On the Road in America, in pumpkin season, in the northeast, house hunting.

Fifteen years ago, I found Jesse a fabulous apartment in Deerfield, Massachusetts, an oddly-shaped studio in the upper tier of an even more oddly-shaped ultra-modern house, set in the woods on the edge of small cliff, decks extending out to the edge with a view of the Pioneer Valley. Birdfeeders everywhere. An occasional misguided moose in the cow pasture several hundred feet below. Steep dirt driveway that made icy winter driving “interesting.” But after seven years, ownership, and zoning shifted and that apartment was suddenly a thing of the past. «Read the rest of this article»

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