NOT THAT WE'RE STALKERS, YOU UNDERSTAND, only we happened to come across her home address on the internet, and well, it was on our way to Nashville, and we couldn't possibly pass that up, could we?
No, we couldn't.
Brentwood is sort of a suburb outside of Nashville, with a weird combination of funny little run down houses, expensive gated communities and farmhouses. After driving past it once or twice, we finally figured out that the fenced in acreage with the expensive looking gate was Dolly's house... something we only knew because Rachel (Dolly Fan Extraordinaire) spotted part of the chapel on her property. (Dolly trivia: did you know she puts a chapel on every property she owns so that she can be close to God wherever she is? Now you know.)
Stalker instincts satisfied, we continued on to Nashville.
While planning the trip, we had some difficulty finding an affordable and not too far out hotel in Nashville. Finally we settled for a Comfort Inn slightly outside of the city...and on upon arrival, decided that we will never, ever do that again. The pool wasn't exactly located under the interstate overpass, but it was pretty damn close, the elevator was broken, and the service at the front desk was sketchy at best. We checked in, dumped our bags, and got our butts to downtown Nashville ASAP.
After a lovely dinner of ribs and pulled pork (health? what?) we proceeded down Broadway, poking our nose into various establishments to see what we could find in the way of live music. Tootsie's was initially tempting due to its reputation as a Nashville institution, but we continued down the street to find...
wait for it...
Yes, indeed. Not only did the standard uniform for women consist of short shorts and 3-inch+ heels, but we were also treated to rousing renditions of "She Thinks My Tractor is Sexy" and "Stroke It," not to mention some dirty dancing, Cowboy Style.
Seriously, does anyone on the world have as much fun as we do? No, I didn't think so.