extracurricular activities, Megan and I joined a group for Music Business majors called Service Corps, where members got to volunteer at various entertainment industry events. In February, we worked the Country Radio Seminar at the Convention Center. Radio DJs and programmers came in from all over the country to keep up on happenings in the radio industry and interview the stars. I personally escorted a gravelly-voiced country star at a press event, guiding him between radio station tables for his interviews and letting the DJs know when his time with them was up. It felt like a dream. Even if it was just for the day, I was handling the media opportunities for someone who used to seem larger than life. It suddenly felt like ages ago rather than just a few months ago that I would call the local Westville radio station and chat up the DJs about the latest music they were playing or what their jobs were like. My world was upside-down.
At the Disco Party at the end of the weeklong seminar, I met several of the singers whose CDs were in my collection. I surprised myself by working up the nerve to ask Kenny Chesney to dance. “Maybe later!” he said, a gracious way of saying no. I didn’t care; just being able to ask was all I wanted.
Service Corps felt like the continued education to the studying and networking I’d begun at home, when I would memorize liner notes and find a way backstage at concerts. Classes were important but in this industry, the connections and inside view of these events were the most beneficial.
A small edge I had over the other students was that I already had friends in the music industry: Paul, the band of brothers and a guy I’d met at a Dixie Chicks concert in Buffalo who had since become a country music television host. Of these, I saw Paul the most. He would pick me up at the dorm and take me to dinner or to shows. Then, we’d sit at Café Coco and talk about what I was learning and what he’d been working on lately. Even though I had once imagined that when I moved to Nashville we would be together, we were just good friends and that’s all I wanted from him. We were in different phases of our lives but also my heart had changed since I’d met Chase.
As I neared the end of my freshman year, I felt that I had begun to accomplish what I’d set out to do. I was growing up, preparing for a career that excited me and I’d made friends. Chase and I, though we hadn’t made any kind of exclusive commitment to each other, had survived a year apart.
One day that spring, Megan and I were hanging out, talking about life, boys and dreams. It was raining and there was nowhere to go, anyway. She told me she remembered meeting Chase when he had come to visit.
“You were lying on the top bunk in your room,” she said. “I remember he was playing with your hair, holding on to you like you were so fragile, like you were about to break.”
“I don’t remember that at all,” I replied, thinking back to that last fall.
I liked the picture she painted. In that memory, Megan had captured a truth about us—I would break without him.
May, 2001.
Even with Chase at home, I couldn’t stand the thought of being in Westville all summer so I decided that taking some extra classes would be a more productive use of my time. I did have a month off and that was long enough for me. I was home just in time for prom and graduation. Megan went to spend the summer at home in North Carolina. Anna, my perky resident assistant, went home to Los Angeles. My roommate who had surprised us all by getting pregnant over Spring Break moved back to Kentucky. Megan and I would be rooming together in the apartments. I would move in when I got back to school in July and she would join me that fall.
My month at home was
At the Disco Party at the end of the weeklong seminar, I met several of the singers whose CDs were in my collection. I surprised myself by working up the nerve to ask Kenny Chesney to dance. “Maybe later!” he said, a gracious way of saying no. I didn’t care; just being able to ask was all I wanted.
Service Corps felt like the continued education to the studying and networking I’d begun at home, when I would memorize liner notes and find a way backstage at concerts. Classes were important but in this industry, the connections and inside view of these events were the most beneficial.
A small edge I had over the other students was that I already had friends in the music industry: Paul, the band of brothers and a guy I’d met at a Dixie Chicks concert in Buffalo who had since become a country music television host. Of these, I saw Paul the most. He would pick me up at the dorm and take me to dinner or to shows. Then, we’d sit at Café Coco and talk about what I was learning and what he’d been working on lately. Even though I had once imagined that when I moved to Nashville we would be together, we were just good friends and that’s all I wanted from him. We were in different phases of our lives but also my heart had changed since I’d met Chase.
As I neared the end of my freshman year, I felt that I had begun to accomplish what I’d set out to do. I was growing up, preparing for a career that excited me and I’d made friends. Chase and I, though we hadn’t made any kind of exclusive commitment to each other, had survived a year apart.
One day that spring, Megan and I were hanging out, talking about life, boys and dreams. It was raining and there was nowhere to go, anyway. She told me she remembered meeting Chase when he had come to visit.
“You were lying on the top bunk in your room,” she said. “I remember he was playing with your hair, holding on to you like you were so fragile, like you were about to break.”
“I don’t remember that at all,” I replied, thinking back to that last fall.
I liked the picture she painted. In that memory, Megan had captured a truth about us—I would break without him.
May, 2001.
Even with Chase at home, I couldn’t stand the thought of being in Westville all summer so I decided that taking some extra classes would be a more productive use of my time. I did have a month off and that was long enough for me. I was home just in time for prom and graduation. Megan went to spend the summer at home in North Carolina. Anna, my perky resident assistant, went home to Los Angeles. My roommate who had surprised us all by getting pregnant over Spring Break moved back to Kentucky. Megan and I would be rooming together in the apartments. I would move in when I got back to school in July and she would join me that fall.
My month at home was
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