Welcome to another week of life on the road. I’m Genie Leslie, a freelance writer working remotely and traveling the country with my husband, while writing about our adventures. Lately, I’m publishing on a bi-weekly schedule, so look out for the newsletter every two weeks.
This week, we’re in Nashville, enjoying rain that pours in bursts lasting about ten minutes.
Last weekend, Aaron and I decided to visit Opryland Resort. I didn’t really know what it was—the only thing I know about Opryland is the amusement park from when I was a kid, and it’s not around anymore.
But it turns out, there’s a whole resort and convention center, right next to a huge mall. We’d been to the mall briefly in search of some last-minute clothes, but now we headed to the resort.
Other than a general idea of The Grand Ole Opry, I have no idea what the history behind Opryland is. What I do know is that it’s huge. And overwhelming. It’s basically a hotel, convention center, and a sort of town square all housed under one roof. And when I say roof, I mean glass dome that makes you feel like you’re not really inside or outside, and you just might be trapped in The Truman Show.
It’s pretty amazing to see. There are bridges over running water and two-story buildings. You can take a boat tour. There’s a huge swimming pool area with slides and waterfalls and who knows what else because we didn’t have access to it.
But once I got over the initial shock and spent a few minutes gaping at everything, I wondered what we would actually do here. We ate a meal at one of the restaurants—I had a mediocre Bloody Mary and an outstanding salad. But beyond that, everything else just seemed to be shopping. We could spend money playing games in the overpriced arcade (which we did, with a $10 cap that did not go very far), or we could spend money on souvenirs, which we weren’t really interested in.
So after a couple of hours walking around, making sure to see each area and watching a choreographed fountain for several minutes, we decided we were done. There wasn’t anything left to do that didn’t require buying something, and I just didn’t want to spend any more money that day.
I think a lot about how we spend our money. While Aaron and I do make financial decisions together, I’m the manager of the budget on a day-to-day level (you know, because control). I’m regularly aware of how much we’ve spent on eating out or tickets to events, and I’m often wondering how we might tweak that slightly in the near (or far) future.
Sometimes, I think about what the money is going to or supporting. For example, I’ve started being more conscious of which movies I see in the theater. If I want more women- directed and written films to get financed and made, I want to go see those in the theater and contribute to their ticket sales. And movies are expensive! So if I’m only going to go to the theater once a month, I’m pretty picky about what I’ll spend that money on.
(What this looks like in practice is Aaron and I going to the movies at the same time to see different films, like this last weekend: Guardians of the Galaxy 3 for him; Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret for me. No regrets.)
I also think about what we’re getting out of our money. I thought about this before we traveled but it’s only been highlighted more for me since we left Seattle. We really don’t want much in the way of stuff. Don’t get me wrong, we get sucked into the same desires of wanting certain things or feeling like we need specific items—right now, I have an Amazon cart full of curling wands that I was comparison shopping, even though my hair is barely long enough for a single curl at this point.
But we’re traveling. At the end of each month, we have to pack it all back up and fit it into the car. And trust me, it’s packed to the brim. If we want to add something new, we have to think long and hard about where it will fit, or if something else needs to come out to make the space.
This is the lens through which I see new stuff. Not just do I need or want it, but where will it go? Is it actually something I want to carry from place to place? Will I use it enough to be worth carrying from place to place? (In the case of the two yoga blocks that I bought, the answer seems to be: nope.)
(We do buy a reusable grocery bag in almost every city. They’re useful for moving, they’re useful for shopping, they will always come in handy.)
If we’re not buying things, and we have no home to add to or redecorate, then the question becomes, how do we want to spend our money?
Mostly, we’ve been looking for cool experiences. I know, I know, I feel you rolling your eyes at another iteration of “millennials love experiences more than things,” I get it. But my thesaurus is not giving me a good synonym for “experience,” so I have to stick with the classic. And, it’s a cliche for a reason. There’s truth in it. Right now, we’re interested in places, art, and activities that we’ll remember long after this cross-country trip ends.
Meow Wolf was one of those experiences, absolutely. We were blown away by the entire thing. The Museum of the Musical Instrument was another—we thought we were swinging by for an hour and we stayed the whole afternoon. Even the stand-up comedy / improv show that Aaron loved while I was so uncomfortable—unforgettable. Certain restaurants and incredible meals have also fallen into this category. I mean, let’s be real, this whole trip is an experience we’ll never forget or regret.
When I first started really understanding money for myself and finding a system that worked for me, the biggest mindset shift for me was finding my priorities. What did I want to spend my money on? Not what did I think I should spend it on, or what would my mom tell me to spend it on, but what did I want to spend it on? The goal was no guilt—if a daily or weekly latte is a priority for you, great. Don’t call it a guilty pleasure or feel bad about getting it. Just plan for it and spend your money on it. Your money should work for your priorities.
Our monthly spending is focused on our traveling priorities. Food is one—having a few chances to eat out, try the local food, and skip cooking. That’s important to us. And experiences are another—the entertainment, museums, hikes. The drag show brunch that everyone says you have to see. (We’re going next weekend and I cannot wait, I promise to report back!)
I won’t end this trip with a bunch of T-shirts or coffee mugs from every state we’ve visited. I won’t send my family Nashville keychains or Charleston sweatshirts. I won’t have Opryland hats or boots to show off.
But I will end this trip with a long list of fun places and amazing art that I never would’ve seen otherwise.
...and the New Mexico reusable grocery bag that’s just a little too tall and confuses every grocery store clerk helping us pack our groceries.
And the yoga blocks that Aaron grumbles about fitting into the car every single time we pack back up.
And the coffee pot that we gave in and bought once we realized Airbnb hosts love Keurig machines and only Keurig machines.
I guess we did collect a few things after all.
What else is going on?
As previously mentioned, I saw Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret and I highly recommend it. So good.
In the last month, I’ve gone from intentionally avoiding Succession on HBO to watching almost all of it (just finished episode 4 of season 4 as I write this). So if you’ve been avoiding it, I have to say, it’s worth a watch.
One of my favorite Substack writers, Anne Helen Petersen, lost her dog recently and wrote a beautiful piece about dog grief that’s not only about dog grief.
Our Airbnb has a room filled with books that I refer to as the library, and I’ve been working my way through as many of them as I can. I read One Plus One by Jojo Moyes, a fun rom-com of a book, and The Great Alone by Kristin Hannah, a sweeping novel about a family’s survival in 1970s Alaska. I’d recommend both.