Does anyone know why it's Boxing Day anyway?

So there’s another Christmas over. It always makes me a bit sad. This year I am more sad than usual because this time next week I will be half way around the world starting a new life and a new job. Let’s just hope I land on my feet once again when I get out there and it doesn’t all go belly up. Of course it would be much less likely to go belly up if I had actually done something in preparation of going. I’d tell you about all the things I still need to do but you might only judge me and think I am stupid for not being more prepared.

But back to Christmas, I got lots of nice things and most were small enough to maybe take with me! One of my most exciting presents was a web cam so I can see and talk to people in the Motherland, well you can see and talk to me. So I urge you to also get a web cam and then we can be web cam buds. Other things I got include:

Walk the Line – you already know my feelings on this
USB hub – handy when you have a lot of USB needs like web cams and the like.
Peter Kay book – everyone knows the genius of the man, now I can read his story.
Mini tripod – no more shaky shots for me.
Chocolate coins – always a winner.
Pens – always a winner (with me anyway).

Right must go, things to do. I’d tell you but then I’d have to kill you.

What day is today?

I’ve spent most of this week being confused by the days. On Tuesday I thought it was Wednesday, on Wednesday I thought it was Friday and I have no clue what today feels like. Mum tells me it’s Thursday but I’m not convinced. Now that I am on holday time, it'll only get worse.

Here’s a summary of the week (days are accurate):

Sunday
My first Carol service of the season and YF Christmas Party. My favourite game was the ‘make your own Christmas decoration’ game. I watched another Christmas film, Miracle on 34th Street. This was also the day when I should have written Christmas cards. That didn't happen so unless a wave of enthusiasm comes over me, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. I hope 2007 is wonderful! Love Tina xxx

Monday
The work Christmas Party and Annual Present game. A good time was had by all and I got the present I wanted, sorry Graham. I played my favourite game the Team and Nicky, Guess Which Famous Person I Saw in Castlecourt, and was once again ready to run when the answer was revealed. I don’t why they are disappointed when they find out it’s Santa. That’s a quality celebrity spot!


'Tis the season to... wear hats made of tissue paper.

Tuesday
My last full day in work and the happy return of Office Cricket. We didn’t play at all this time so a good game was coming, alas it was cut short, but not before I got my half century. I think they let me get it, it being my last game before I retire from the sport.


The batting warm up.

The other memorable bit from the day came when the photocopier man came to fix the photocopier. He’s very passionate about photocopiers and told stories about photocopiers from the seventies which had mice in them. (They were living there because it was cozy, not there in some sort of industrial copying workhouse.) But the moment came when I tried to show him what was going wrong with it printing and photocopying. I showed him the examples sitting on my desk, an email printout and unfortunately evidence from the Christmas party the night before. Photocopied faces (he had to clean the glass after he fixed the machine) and the work entitled ‘Fingers Extended’. Could have been worse, there were no bare bums (which led him to tell a ten minute story about glass breaking after office parties. Apparently the glass can cost up to £90 to replace because despite what it may look like it’s not ordinary glass. You have been warned).

Went to my second Carol service in Methody. It was good and typical MCB. The choir sang fourteen pieces. Surely above and beyond?

Wednesday
I finished off this stint in the Department with another great feed, the Christmas dinner. Very nice it was. We walked in at 1.00pm and out at 10.30pm. That’s right, Methodists doing Christmas dinners like champions! My new phone arrived ending the sorry relationship I had with Sony Ericcson. Nokia and I are now happily reunited. It was a good day.

Thursday
I haven’t actually done anything today. Not a sausage. My sore throat of last week morphed into a cold this week and today I have finally succumbed to bird flu.

In other news, I am looking forward to getting to sunnier climes where there is no ice for me to fall on. I fell coming into the house, cracking my knee off the front doorstep. It bloody well hurt and I cried like the girl I am. There is a lump, doubling the size of my already ugly knee. No doubt the bruise will follow. I reckon it will rival anything Ruth can get in hockey.

Five things

I was tagged by Jools. Ever keen to play games, here’s five things you might not know about me:

1. The only bone I have broken is my left wrist. I did this when I was 12, a week before I went on holiday to Majorca with Karen Next Door and her parents. I broke it playing ‘run down the hill and jump off the wall to see how far you can get’ at Browns Bay with YF. I went on holiday anyway but had to wear a plastic bag with rubber band in the pool and was never fully emersed the whole two weeks. See Karen for the hilarious clip of me trying to get on the lilo using only one arm. [The tape also contains amusing footage of Karen getting fully hacked off with her dad and the video camera. For her tender age, she uses some adult language. Either that or she's practising her French in entirely the wrong country.]

2. That holiday to Majorca is the only typical beach holiday I’ve had. We used to go to Guernsey and although we went to the beach it was no Costa Del Sol. Neither did we ever go to Portrush (or indeed Newcastle) on day trips or holidays. The first memorable time I went there was when I was 12 with YF (probably the week before I broke my wrist) although my parents say they did take us once. I'm not really moaning, I'd just rather go somewhere to see something other than a tourist beach and a hotel swimming pool. And I think Portrush and Newcastle are tacky. There, I said it. Kick me out of the country why don't you.

3. I have no cousins. My dad has eleven. My mum doesn't have any either. Her dad had 33.

4. I never had a detention in school ever, not even a lunchtime detention for French vocab. Actually I don’t think I have ever failed an exam either, although I did have to ‘resit’ my L6th summer exams, but this was because my teachers were ‘disappointed’ with my results. Technically I didn’t fail because other people got lower marks than me but they didn’t have to resit. Yes, I am still bitter about this.

5. I claim to be a supertaster. I have a greater number of fungiform papiliae which house taste buds. This means that I taste things in coffee, alcohol, grapefruit and chilli you normoes can’t. Despite the scientific evidence to the contrary my dad still says this is just a fancy name for fussiness.

So I tag Karen Next Door, Pam, Ruth, Helen and Kari (use your own blog, the comments or your Bebo) please and thank you.

‘Great’ films I’ve never seen

We saw ‘The Holiday’ tonight. A bit less Christmas than I’d imagined and a bit too much corn but still highly watchable, I still enjoyed it. I totally understand why it got panned by Dom on Chris Moyles, boys I’d stay away. (Unless of course you want to learn how to get a Cameron Diaz?*)

In it, they talk about various ‘great’ films, which reminded me of the list I was composing in my head of films I have never seen. So in no particular order…

ET
The Wizard of Oz
Any Indiana Jones film
Gone With the Wind
The Rocky films (or Rambo come to think of it)
The Godfather (1, 2, or 3)
Casablanca
Schlinder’s List
The Silence of the Lambs
Any Monty Python film
Pulp Fiction
Reservoir Dogs
Donnie Darko
Kill Bill (1 or 2)
The Princess Bride
That Goonies thing (I hadn't even heard of this film until a year or two ago)
Gladiator
Gandhi
Stand By Me
Ben Hur
Spartacus
Apocalypse Now
The Last Samurai
Any Jaws film
Any Alfred Hitchcock film
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest
Goodfellas
Any of the Terminator films
The Usual Suspects
Last of the Mohicans
The Piano
Any Lethel Weapon film
Edward Scissorhands
Bugsy Malone
The Blues Brothers
Platoon
Saving Private Ryan
Braveheart
Any of The Matrix films

Excuse me, I must go now and watch some of these moo-vies you speak of.

*Answer: Be a Jude Law**

** although in Christian circles, probably best not to sleep with a girl before you actually know her name.

Weird Wednesday

It’s a weird feeling seeing the next person interview for your job. Not that I ever had an interview for this job, (actually, not that I would even get an interview for this job) but it's still weird. That said, whoever the lucky candidate is will never be as super organised (ha!) or be able to deal so brilliantly with Nicky’s swearing, beltching, farting and general rudeness. Neither will they be able to stumble over answering the phone as brilliantly as me (just recently for some reason I have it in my head that I work for the Department of Education which causes me to pause at 'Hello, Department of...').

You’ll be pleased to hear that I am feeling much better than last week. Man, I sounded pissed off on Friday. Since then I spent the weekend mostly in my jammies, except for a short spell on Saturday when I went to class (so industrious). I did manage to come up with a theme for the first part of my coursework which is good, and have worked on several photos already in my collection which with the help of Photoshop will look amazing.

Christmas is well underway, I watched two Christmas films at the weekend to help with the Christmas cheer but as yet nothing has been bought. I know what I’m going to buy most people and I’m just determining where is the cheapest place to get them, probably tinternet so best get a move on with that.

Something funny about/for Nicky*

I haven’t written at all this week. I haven’t been in a particularly witty mood and have done nothing of note since I last wrote. I am teetering on the edge of being sick, and two nights this week I was in bed by 8.00pm. I've been grumpy and in foul form most of the week, with small things leading to me getting thoroughly pissed off. I am so not ready for Christmas it’s not even funny, and as for going away, forget it. It’s one of those things where there is so much to do I don’t know where to start. I only have eight days left in work and there is still a lot I need to do there too. Here's hoping for a productive weekend to lift the mood.

*He told me to write ‘something funny’ either about him or for him, I can’t remember which. Due the aforementioned mood/tiredness this is all I can muster.

National Izzy Day

Today is my car's birthday. Two today. I celebrated by washing her (cars are not naturally girls, like in a typical country way, 'she's got a flat battery', but mine is called Izzy so therefore is a girl).


The during shot. I didn't think it was as bad as this photo would made it appear but I cannot recall another time I washed my car this year, and it's definitely the only time since I came home, so it must have been. I was out tonight and I must say it's nice to see in the wing mirrors and to see that the headlights are actually on.

Here's to many more happy motoring miles!

Top tip

Do not race in an Olympic pursuit styley on a scooter in heels and a skirt. It hurts.

This sort of graffiti is allowed

Remember the whiteboard in work...


Yes I am!

If I didn't do things like this...

This weekend:

1. I got my flights booked and paid for. Round the world, here I come!
2. My GHDs arrived. No more bad hair days for me…not that I ever had any, ever.
3. I went to Dublin on Saturday.
4. I went to Dublin on Sunday.

Two totally separate trips. Julie, Lynsey and I went to Dublin on Saturday to go shopping to that shopping centre. It was part of my birthday present (it’s always good to drag out one’s birthday! Jud taught me that). So off we went on Saturday morning, €uro in hand. It was a class day and even though the present did not extend to buying my purchases, I got lots of nice things. The plan to start getting Christmas presents quickly went out the window (but expect to see me wearing some new clothes!)


This, believe it or not, is an Autumn Soul hoodie! I was very excited to see it (although in retrospect I don't know why, not like it was Timbuktu). So excited I took a photo, which came out blurry - I was on an escalator.

On Sunday I was head southbound once again. This time David, Karen and I were going to the rugby. The rugby giants of the Pacific Islands were in town and they thought they should take on the mighty Ireland. That was their first mistake. The second was doing this a week after super Ireland defeated Australia. Their third was timing (fair enough, probably wasn’t their fault). They never stood a chance in Ireland’s last match at Lansdowne Road for the next few years.

And so it came to pass.


'No seriously, have the ball, I insist.'


They're shoulder to shoulder, answering Ireland's call.


Number one for Paddy.


Karen and I with foam hand (see below).


During the lap of honour to say goodbye to Lansdowne the confetti was released. Très cool.

So we had to be there before lunch to get our tickets. On our way to get them we were given green foam hands. I was very excited by this. I think it might be because of the 'Gladiators' link. Anyway, after lunch we were back at the stadium, and as we were walking to our entrance David and Karen got handed something but I didn't.

Now, I feel I ought to explain my actions here carefully. I am the youngest and the youngest usually misses out on things and generally feels hard done by. Therefore I wanted the tin thing they got. But as I turned to get it from the yellow coated promotions woman she’d walked on a bit. Therefore it required a speedy step or two. As I turned to rejoin David and Karen, they were laughing at me. It was then, and only then I discovered my error. I ran up the street to get a condom.

In my defence I didn’t know what it was. Inside it could very well have been keys to a Mini Cooper or something. And then who'd look foolish for not getting one? But no, I made myself look like some Convent-taught schoolgirl who couldn’t believe her luck that they were giving condoms out on the streets to anyone at all. It was a miracle David and Karen were willing to stand with me at all after that.


But remember, as it says on the packet, total abstinence is the only way to be 100% sure of protection from STIs and pregnancy, play it safe boys and girls. [Great cartoon though. Especially his ‘feet’.]

Gingerbread houses plus one

Seriously I cannot believe it has been a year since I saw all those gingerbread houses. How quickly has the year gone?! I often find myself harking back to good times and now I always seem to look at the clock and wonder what everyone is doing in America. I kind of know what everyone was doing today…parade, turkey, football. There are worse ways to spend a day I suppose.

I on the other hand went to work on a piss poor day when the heating broke. I didn’t think I could reasonably argue that Thanksgiving was now a part of my culture and I should get it off. Maybe if I had known it would be so cold I would have made an attempt.

It’s a good holiday though, there’s no presents, no expectations. It’s just a traditional family time. This year I celebrated by speaking to my American families which is what it’s all about.

It’s also a day when I’ve remembered the fragility of life so today I’m thankful for mine and my family's.

Not much really

Not much really today:

Went to training about learning styles today. Fair enough not really related to this job, but it is to my next, and it tries to go some way to heal the sad sad news that I will not be going to Cork. I am destined to never to go there.

I am definitely an analytical learner - I'm excited about learning, I defer to authority and want recognition for all my hard work. Nice to know and good to realise I teach in equal parts. There was no test for laziness or freaky number remembering however.

I have a to do list, actually I’ve had it for a week or two. Maybe if I publicise it I’ll be shamed into doing the things on it.
-Tidy the unholy mess that is my room.
-File my bank statements etc.
-Take photos off my computer to free up space and back up my music.
-Sell my tat on eBay (actually this has been on my to-do list since June…2005)

Right, have to go ‘I’m a Celeb…’ has just started! Eh, hello that’s why it’s called a to do list. You have the things still to do.

Permission granted

This lifted a dull Thursday for me, I hope it does the same for your >insertwhateverdayitishere<.

My good deed for the day was royally snubbed!

This tale of woe occurred yesterday and has found its way onto my MySpace page. Hope it makes you guys chuckle. Man, I'm funny when I try to be.

Funny, when I was wee I was taught that it was nice to do nice things. Apparently not. Whilst living in this alien land in which I find myself I have become accustomed to not having my nearest and dearest to hand. It is not a pleasantry (or, at times, an unpleasantry) but reality. I have found a coping mechanism in making new friends and creating new past-times. I still potter (not potterY, you understand, just potter - those of you who know me best will understand), I still make cards (and forget to post them - sorry), I still watch soaps (Monday nights are especially enjoyable on this front) and do many other things that make me me.

However, in an effort to branch out I decided to embrace community spirit and in so doing decided upon the Old People's Home next door as the outlet for this venture. I had an idea. A good idea, I thought. My plan was this: to go next door and be all bright and cheery, offer to play Piano some night for the oldies to sing along to carols or whatever and do my bit for society.

So, today, after work, laiden down with my satchel full of marking and, bizarrely, a toilet roll (I have the cold not the skits), I parked my car and wandered next door. I entered the strange grand Victorian building (more Queen Vic than Victorian period) with the obligatory 'Eau de Old People's home' ammonia smelling 'pot pourri' and made my way up to the most important looking of the two ladies I saw before me - the one in the dark blue tunic rather than the lilac one.

I said my piece: 'I'm a Music teacher at the College and I live next door. I'd like to volunteer to come in some evening and play Piano and sing some Carols with the residents (thought 'oldies' may not be deemed PC here) in the run up to Christmas'. Well! You'd have thought I'd just mentioned the word euthanasia! The grilling I got! Shocking!

First the 'lady' insisted that I say my piece again, so off I went 'I'm at Music teacher, blah blah blah', then she wanted to know if I was going to bring in a group (I expect she meant school kids rather than a full on group like Muse who, incidentally, are from round here) and when I said no she looked even more confused - maybe even a little disappointed.

She went on to ask if it would be a voluntary. Now, here we have a problem. I heard the word voluntary and thought in musical terms as in like a recital or solo or something. So, I said, 'well, either that or the residents could sing along. Just whatever you want, really'. Rude lady replied with 'no (*patronising stare*)

'Would you want paid?'. I firmly said 'no, no, not at all' to which rude lady (almost laughing) said 'Well, why do you want to do it, then'. This, I thought would have been the easy bit. Eh, no!

So, my tale began. 'My Granny used to like to hear me play so I thought some of the residents might like that sort of thing too'. (Straightforward enough; the use of the letter D in the word useD clearly and emphatically implying past-tense.) So what does Rude Lady say? 'Where's your Granny now, then?' My reply, 'Heaven'! (so put that in your pipe and smoke it, you old witch) Rude Lady, realising her faux pas, tried to backpedal somewhat with a decidedly insincere smile (which, to be fair, could easily have been wind - maybe she could have used my loo roll, who knows? At least I was prepared!).

I continued my tale of woe by saying that I'd moved to the area and didn't have any family nearby so I thought I'd volunteer to play some evening. (Though clearly by the time I had to explain for the third time what I wanted I was beginning to think I couldn't be bothered even if she did agree).

Rude Lady, clearly not wanting to make a good impression, said 'aren't you going home for Christmas?'. I said 'yes, on the 19th Dec' so thicko Rude Lady (really trying my patience by this point) said 'but you just said you don't have any family round here'. What part of I HAVE A NORN IRISH ACCENT didn't she get?! Ever-persistently politely I replied, 'yes, I'm going home to Belfast on the 19th Dec'. So what does Rude Lady say? 'Well, it'll have to be before the 19th then!' No s**t sherlock! The woman's a genius.

The conversation proceeded in this fashion for another few minutes - which I'll not bore you with - but after all that she wasn't even the manager or the matron or anything!! She had to take a phone number (obviously too lazy to walk next door) and said that someone will be in touch. I doubt very much that they will be - or that I'll agree to anything even if they do ring. Stupid woman. Imagine her coming to tell you bad news if that's what she's like in receiving an offer of a good deed for the day.

My faith in human nature is somewhat waning. Your mission, having read this, is to restore it - good and proper, like. In case I don't see ya - Good afternoon, good evening and good night!

The past while

I haven’t written an update of my life of late. So here goes:

-was off on Tuesday because I worked on Saturday (see next point). I went to Junction 1 with mother to return the jeans that were too high. Except when I got there I decided to keep them. I then spent money buying a skirt and jacket from Next. The plan to save money continues to go well out the window.

-was at Soulmates Challenge on Saturday and a good day was had by all. Bouncy obstacle courses are a hit with children and adults alike. Pam and I had go. I won, yay me.

-The travelling Team On Mission (TOM) were back in the office this week after a long absence. It was good to see them. Even if they disresected church property. We have a whiteboard where everyone writes up their meetings etc. After much moaning the two teams (Travelling and 24-7 Prayer) got added to write up their plans. However, they greeted this generous act, something that no other TOM has had, with contempt. For instance, instead of Nicky being ‘in’ on Monday to Friday he was ‘in labour’. (The happy day comes on Saturday when he gives birth to an elephant.) I, on the other hand, am apparently ‘in continent’ on Monday and ‘indescribable’ on Friday. (A much better way to end the week I think.) We couldn’t help but notice that they didn’t mess with Gillian’s or David’s space. It’s only November and they’ve already learnt what you can’t and can’t do. These guys will go far.

-Scott Mills nearly had me crying coming home from work with his Random Acts of Kindness. I didn’t even hear the emotional bit when they told her story (think her mum died of cancer). I just needed to hear her cry at the excitement of meeting the Sugababes. Bloody hormones.

-Watched a bit of ‘I’m a Celeb…’ tonight, the funniest TV since I got home. Dean Gaffney has gone up in my estimation. He’s well ‘ard (see what I did there?!). I also watched ‘UK Music Hall of Fame’. Joss Stone has spent way too much time in USA. Come home Joss and get rid of that accent.

-Read the funniest story today and if I get permission from the author (or indeed her brother) I will share it tomorrow. Fair enough, that’s not so interesting for you right now, but tomorrow you may be thanking me. I can feel the excitement from here.

Another bunch of nobodies then?

When there's any kind of discussion/debate/argument in our house and I'm right, my dad will say 'Tina is always right!'.

Might I refer you to a post from last year. Check out my number one choice.

How good am I?! (I'm still pulling for the Mr. Blobby man to make an appearance though.)

They shall not grow old

[First of all, tttttttttttttt! Yo!]

This is in two parts today.

Part One – Typical Tina story and observations
We grew up with Remembrance Day (like Memorial Day in the USA). My Grandpa and my mum’s dad both fought in the Second World War. But it was mostly because my Dad was a Scout leader that it was a part of our winters. My dad and my brother would march round to the Cenotaph with the rest of the scouts and me and my mum would scurry along with them. Once the local Cenotaph ceremony was over, my mum and I would dash home to watch the national ceremony. Later I also ‘marched’ as only Guides can. (We were big Baden-Powell fans in our house.)

This morning I went down to the local Cenotaph. There were a lot less people there than I remember but I suppose that’s what happens with time. But some things never change:

1. There will always be more Boys Brigade than Scouts. (Do they bribe them?)
2. The BB will always be better at marching than the Scouts. (Well that’s what they do of a Friday night, march.)
3. There will always be at least two Scouts with wild, curly, untamed hair. (One of these will be shoulder length, and one will belong to the leader.)
4. The BB’s uniforms will always be smarter and better turned out than the Scouts. (I’d say they are always dressed perfectly but this morning a BB guy was wearing brown shoes. Ha! This made me feel better when the next point happened.)
5. The BB will lay the wreath with military precision*. The Scouts may as well hurl it up there. (Today the Cubs messed it up. It’s not hard - walk up, stop, lay the wreath, step backwards, bow head, turn and walk away. Seriously, does no one ever run it through with them? Or maybe that’s why the younger ones do it so when they get it wrong there’s a general feeling of ‘uch sure they’re only young’. Not me though, I had to turn my laugh into a cough.)
*Military precision of old. Today in Whitehall the Chiefs of the Army, Navy and RAF caused confusion as they stepped forward ahead of the High Commissioners whose turn it actually was. They had to be Scouts.

All that said however, if I should be blessed with a son, he will never be in the BB if I have anything to do with it. Never underestimate the level of loathing between the BB and the Scouts.

Part Two – Deeper and maybe controversial
I was reading about the red/white poppy debate. I don’t really know what to think about it. Maybe I’m too much of a realist but and the idea of not having armed services to protect and defend us is ridiculous. That said war should never be the first choice, it should always be a last resort. I really don’t think there’s any more symbolism behind the red colour of the poppy than that being the colour of the poppies that grew in Flanders fields. And I’m not sure wearing a poppy necessarily implies all that the nay-sayers say it does. But wearing a white poppy seems to be deliberately provocative, yet it is worn in peace.

You can read more about it here, here, here and here. Then tell me what you think.


Does Remembrance Day glorify war or honour those who died because of it?

Wha happened my s?

My aren' working. I have no idea wha he flip happened i. Bu i is dead annoying wih a name beginning wih a , like ina! I hough i was working fine his morning bu now somehing has happened i and as you can see i doesn' work now. Shi or wha.

On the upside I can swear wihou acually swearing!

You know what they say, if you look like your passport photo then you're too ill to travel

Ever in the quest to save money, I asked my dad tonight if he had any passport photos of me so I wouldn't have actually pay for new ones. He hunted in his desk and found these. I'm thinking not.






At first glance you think 'ah innocence itself', but that quickly changes to 'is she drugged?' [Points to note: 1) Yes, that is a Global Hypercolour t-shirt I'm wearing. 2) Forever and a day I had a fringe, goodness knows why. It was never straight due to the almighty cow's lick on my hairline. And 3) Alas the attempt by my ears to take over the world failed.]


There was however an even better photo from the same session:



I remember the incident well. It took an age for the first picture to come so I, the keen technician, bent down to see what was going on when...well you know.

A clever plan to cut road traffic accidents and CO2 emissions from planes

I like to think I am a reasonably smart person. I have decent GCSEs and A Levels, a good degree and a postgrad. And not a postgrad in just anything, the powers that be have decreed from above that I am in fact smart enough to teach others.

So why has it taken me all evening to fill out two forms, two forms?

The designs aren’t user friendly, they aren’t even user unfriendly, they are user-is-the-enemy-and-I-must-destroy-any-small-chance-of-comprehension-at-every-turn.

Maybe it’s just the two forms I have (DVLNI and Passport Service, I’m getting my must-do things done). For a start, there’s the bumpf they give you. Each form came with about four different inserts. Each bit I had to fill in directed me to a different numbered paragraph from the inserts (except in the passport one, where there are no bloody numbers). Neither could the websites they helpfully directed me to answer my questions (and I refuse to believe I have a one of kind problem). And to add insult to injury, they couldn't easily tell me how much the respective ID would cost.

So my question is how does a person, like jeans girl from Juction One, without GCSEs get on with these things? Do they just not drive or leave the country?

Excuse me, I have to go now and lie in a darkened room with a cold flannel to my head and a stiff drink in my hand.

Sunday evening

I feel like I have neglected my blog in the last few days. Here are the highlights of the past few days:

-Went to Pizza Hut and the cinema on Wednesday with the girls. Pizza Hut service was seriously bad. I hate bad service. 'Step Up' was seriously predictable but passable enough.

-Got my eyes tested and picked out new glasses. I’ve had my current ones since I was on Team on Mission. Long enough to warrant a new pair I think, although I was encouraged to hear my eyesight is no worse. And I can read the bottom line (although fair enough, with glasses on, but still!)

-Thursday was YF Social Evening to Dundonald. I’m no brilliant bowler but Thursday was particularly disasterous. I swear the lane wasn’t made level.

-On Friday Ruth and I went to Junction One. Another successful trip there with her. I got a skirt, woolly hat, scarf and gloves (the hat was worn straight away so arctic it was) and a pair of jeans that according to the girl ‘actually looked good on me’! The cheek. She didn’t even get her rudeness when I repeated ‘actually?’ to her. I bet she had no GCSEs. Since getting the jeans home, I can’t decide if I like them or not, they are a bit high I think. Not to Simon Cowell proportions or anything but definitely higher that is usual I think. My mum says you wouldn’t notice but still. So I might be going back to Junction One to return them soon. I had a fear that the skirt would make my child bearing hips appear even bigger, but was encouraged to discover it did not.

-Last night my PGCE class had a get together. It was another good night, reminiscing and hearing new teaching nightmares. Marie was chief organiser, which is a hard job. However she made it even harder on herself however by forgetting to book the table at the restaurant where we were to go. Oops.


Team PGCE, well some of us. Nobody is quite sure why we are such a close group, even now. Gavin, our tutor says there hasn't been a class like us since. Many a laugh last night, mostly from Geraldine. She told us of how she was burgled on Friday. The story was funny, because they took nothing. They even turned up their noses at her jewellery. It was made even more hilarious by her telling us the police came out in helicopters (she lives in real bandit country) five times before coming inside to investigate seven hours after the crime was reported. I swear the woman should have a docusoap made on her life. It would be hilarious.

This week I absolutely have to sort out my lost driving licence and renew my passport. Plus my new glasses will be coming in. I’m excited, even if it means a severe dent to the purse. Oh and Lynsey is making Julie and me dinner on Tuesday. Good luck everybody.

Another constructive day

Today was supposed to be a more constructive day where I was supposed to do constructive things and somehow it didn't happen. I hate the feeling of wasting a day (but love jamie days).

Today I:
-talked to Megann on the phone. She again beat me to calling. Why is that? Why? (Mental note - call Megann before she calls you. Take turns, it's only fair)
-got songs on to mother's new phone. Unfortunately these had to first of all go on to my computer. Can't imagine Paulo Conte or Charles Trenet ever making to a playlist.
-watched more daytime TV. The Price is Right really is the worst and best TV show ever made. Today he guessed wrongly the price of an oven and didn't win the kitchen applicances. Gutted for him.
-slept in the afternoon. Shut up, daytime TV can be taxing enough. Today there was some serious stuff on This Morning that I needed a rest from.
-Added another friend to my My Space. That'll make 2 then, no, really. I don't get it!

Nothing on my to-do list actually got done, like:
-unpacking from Autumn Soul
-calling about my lost driver's licence
-writing a thank note that father has been on at me to write since time began
But I'm ever hopeful because tomorrow is another day!

Oh just thought of one constructive thing I did! I wrote a reference for someone. Ha ha and I thought I wasted my day. Although, fair enough, it would have been better to have printed it and even have sent it.

Tomorrow I'm back in work and getting my eyes tested as per the letter they sent me telling me I needed to. It's all go at this end I tell you.

The Soul of Autumn

I’m off today. Yay. This is my first proper jamie day in a months, so I am celebrating by watching daytime TV (currently Countdown, but previously the last fifteen minutes of This Morning, Loose Women, The Price is Right, and Murder She Wrote. I’m too long out of Neighbours to understand it now.)

Anyway, Autumn Soul was good. I didn’t really experience it as a punter but then that’s not what I’m paid to do. I was pleased with how my end of things went. Registration was on the whole smooth, I loved fast track registration. Centrepoint was crazy with people at times but everything I felt everything was under control.

My own personal highlights were mostly Sweeney related – Jud’s interpretive dance, Owen's mood when we were counting money and the traditional Sweeney sponsored Centrepoint game of Charades (Owen’s forty five minute mime of Anchorman was legendary). I also enjoyed the walkie talkie fun on Satuday night, and even though I had seen it before the Team on Mission video was hilarious. One slightly depressing note was that I didn’t recognise myself in the montage at the end, so rough I looked.




Pam working out how many words in 'The Lion King'.

Love shine a light.

Boy Band linky arms wave thing. Hilarious.

Me and my best friend at the weekend, my walkie talkie. I felt naked without it when I had to return it.

Team Steward. Really good group, not like they haven't been ever.

I heard that there were 300 balloons in the release. How come it looked like 50?

But there were holy moments too. This was the first proper time I heard the Autumn Soul Band and I thought they were brilliant. So holy moments then. I didn’t hear much of Brian Heasley but I did hear the ‘breathe in breathe out’ bit which was simple yet genius. I loved that the girls from youth fellowship were there and to see them worshipping God in the real, truthful and sincere way they did was just fantastic. So they inspired me too.

And a good time was had by all.

Yes!

Woo hoo!

Let it be known

That on this day, Wednesday 25th October 2006 I was in work not only on time, but at a colour of the morning I don't even want to mention incase I have a panic attack.

I have also discovered the secret to getting a space outside my office.

(I'll take any colour of star you like, but I'd prefer gold.)

Bebo: Bringing people together

Tonight I was out with a girl from school. We haven’t seen each other since we left, although we were pretty friendly at school. It was great to catch up with her and hear all that’s she’s done since. She’s married now and doing really well for herself. I was especially pleased because she had a particularly rough time during school.

As we were leaving, she hit the remote central locking revealing her car. Yeah, she’s doing really well for herself. (I don’t know a whole lot about cars but even I know it’s a nice car when it’s that low to the ground and only got two seats.)

It was the personalised number plate that made me smile the most though. It is the perfect two fingers to everyone at school that made it a nightmare for her.

Photos from my (soon to be old) phone

I had the most frustrating day where O2's superior customer service shone through again and they blamed everything on the couriers.

Anyway I am currently taking everything off my phone before it is exhanged sometime tomorrow. Even in the few shorts weeks I had it there were a few classics that never made it here. For instance:


The most perfect rainbow across the Carrick skyline (please note, despite what it may look like I pulled over for this. I would never drive and hold my phone. Never.)


Nicky's hand shaped to look like a butt. At least I hope it was his hand.


My 10000th mile. Again, pulled over. Must get that speedometer looked at.


Adam TOM (the official addition to Team on Mission names in my phone, like Smash Hits' posters 'Ben A1') pretending to be a tortoise in the office. In this one cardbox box impression he demonstrates the difference between my old place of employment and my current.

I never had to return a Nokia

I always prefer phones that make noise or shake when someone calls or texts. I also like it when you do happen to notice when someone is calling you can hear them and they can hear you.

Yes, that's right, my new phone has stopped working. I have to return it and get another. Grr bloody grr.

I am seriously dossing this afternoon, I have to prepare YF and while I largely know what I'm doing the finer details have not been finalised (ie discussion questions, bible verses and the like) so I thought I'd share my frustrations re. the ongoing saga of my phone. But must go, washing to be done. Told you I was dossing!

I used to not like Jo Whiley

I’m still not that sure about her, I think she can be smug. I have no time for smug. But over the course of the past few years I’ve heard more of her show and she’s warming on me. I like Changing Tracks, I like Rocks and Sucks but I love, love the Live Lounge. It is the best thing she does. So I was dead excited when she ran text polls a few Christmases ago to get listeners’ opinions about what should go on a compilation album. Twenty two months later and it’s out and I have it.


It’s brilliant. You should buy it.

So with that in mind, here is October’s playlist:

1. Welcome to the Black Parade – My Chemical Romance (one of those songs you liked ages before you realised you liked it)
2. America – Razorlight (damn Jo Whiley got me into this song too)
3. Set Fire to the Third Bar – Snow Patrol & Martha Wainwright (love her voice)
4. Buck Rogers – Feeder (player player player player player player…)
5. How to Save a Life – The Fray (ah the brilliant Grey’s Anatomy, brilliant programme, brilliant music)
6. Wonderful World – James Morrison (one of those songs you think is all lovely but isn’t)
7. Song 2 – My Chemical Romance (not the original but a great effort)
8. Romeo – Basement Jaxx (love them, this is brilliant live)
9. Push the Button - Orson (different, definitely different)
10. The Scientist – Coldplay (how do you make a beautiful song better? Sing it live of course)
11. Gold Digger – The Automatic (makes me laugh out loud)
12. Love Machine – Arctic Monkeys (same)
13. Hey Ya – Will Young (my first memorable Live Lounge)

They haven’t made it yet, but I suspect they might, Love It When You Call – The Feeling, I Write Sins Not Tragedies – Panic! At the Disco.

I’m also fighting the temptation to get McFly’s new song. I swear there are endorphins realised through it, it actually makes me happy. But I think it might be a little too pop for me to have. Maybe Jo Whiley has every right to be smug afterall, I can’t imagine she’d be the biggest McFly fan.

How does Ireland function as a country?

Last week Pam and I were talking about Ireland and how amazing it is that it manages to work at all. I mean they’re successful players in the EU, they’ve won (and even hosted) the Eurovision, they are the roaring Celtic Tiger, they gave the world Westlife, they have modern technological industries, and of course there’s Guinness.

But how does it do it?! Harsh, I think not. We put it to you thus:

• There's not enough digits in phone numbers, eg 012 34567 (that said I am always amazed at how we need eleven digits and ten does all of America)
• There's not any sort of code in the address, and unless they live on an actual street in Dublin or Cork they don’t even have house numbers. ‘Beacon House, Tamlaght, Co. Cork’ is enough. How does that work?

I have discovered something else which makes me wonder how they’ve made it this far. Signs.

As you probably know, I am not well travelled in Ireland and so when Jose declared his desire to go to the Guinness Storehouse I reluctantly agreed. Only because I know how much his beloved brew means to him.

Most people would have researched the trip thoroughly. Oh no, not me. I was furiously tidying last week and had a series of late meetings that meant I was not well prepared. I have driven my way through America and even through the Nation’s capital, I am a road trip master. I am fearless when it comes to a roadtrip. Nothing scares me. I have a good sense of direction and, sure there’s always signs.

No, no, there’s not. Not in Ireland. Sure, they might have one to get you on your way, but after that it’s all guess work, or you can take a chance with the left/right game. Last week I preferred the drive-straight-until-you-see-something-vaguely-familar method. To get to the Guinness Storehouse, it was basically drive until you cross the river, then turn right. And that’s what we did, and it worked. Although I really don’t think Jose knew how much I was winging it.
On the way home from Dublin, I discovered something that they do actually codify. Roads. No place names, or general clues as to what the N1-32 might take you to. No, no, just numbers as if you are supposed to magically know the route they take. So we followed signs to the airport, that was until they stopped after the second one. To be honest, it was a miracle we made it out at all.

Like I said, how does it function at all?

I could have been on TV

Today Chris B came into the office and announced that he had just met Graham Norton. He was filming Who do you think you are? outside the Primary School Chris was in this morning and so he had a wee chat with him. They even filmed a wee bit that may or may not be used (depending on how stuck for material they are much room they have).

Later that day in the office I was telling some the TOM Chris' story, and Graham H announced that he was in fact named after Graham Norton. No, seriously he is. (Some connection with their mums and an aunt that I couldn’t detail with any degree of confidence.) Graham said that he would love to meet him and tell him he’s named after him.

So cut to me driving home along my traditional route of Sandy Row. At the ‘You are now entering…’ mural I saw a film crew so naturally looked to see which small fish of a TV reporter it was from BBC NI or UTV. But you know what is coming, it was Graham Norton.

Naturally, I did a u-turn in the road and drove past him again. Then I did another, this time taking out my phone to get a picture. In the end I turned in the side street to take it. If he wasn’t doing his bit to camera I might have got out and had a chat myself, but driving past him four times I already felt a bit wick. Plus I swear he was looking right at me when I was taking the picture so my embarrassment led me home.


Today was also the day I discovered that my phone doesn't have zoom. (And dammit all, it's too late to return now.) But I promise you, that group is the film crew and Graham (or as t'other Graham called him earlier, 'the flamboyant homosexual'). But I know you believe me, like I could make any of this stuff up!

Driving home though it suddenly struck me that had I got out and talked to him, I could have been a modern day Cilla/Jimmy and got the two Grahams together. And it would have made at least one of the Graham's dream come true.


That definitely would have made the programme. I so could have been on TV.

Where’s my stuff?

Before I came home, you’ll remember that I sent a lot of my stuff home. I have now discovered my big mistake. As I wasn’t wearing shoes. only flip flops (how I long for sunshine) I thought I’d be smart and stuff my socks around the gaps in the boxes. Nope, not so much Tina.

Day 48 and the sock shortage continues.

The final instalment

The parents are watching the Antiques Roadshow, booooooorrrrrrriiiiiinnnnnnggggg! So I thought I'd take this opportunity to blog.

I forgot to put these on a good while ago so here for all the fans of Church signs out there, here's the final instalment (at least until I next go back to America).


See what they did there? They changed air conditioned for prayer conditioned! Brilliant!


So I wasted my time cutting out those coupons? Rage.


If you ask me, Double Springs Baptist Church weren't even trying with this effort. They need to talk to their brothers and sisters from Harmony Christian Fellowship. They know how to get the funny in their signs.

Out of nowhere

Most mornings start the same and you have no idea what the day is going to bring. That’s why it sssuuuuccccckkkkkksssssss when you have a pisser of a day.

If I had had advance warning about today, I would have made my excuses and stayed in bed.

Tomorrow morning though, I will get out of bed simply because you can’t tell when a good day is coming either.

Here’s hoping.

Sony Ericsson 1 - 0 Blogger Beta

So last night I was playing with my phone and discovered I could blog from my phone! Except that I can't transfer those blogs to Blogger Beta only the old Blogger. Grr! So you can go here to see what I put up!

No seriously, sign up for Blogger Beta, it's great.

Blogger Beta Appeal

So last night I signed up to Blogger Beta and on the whole I am quite pleased. The layout works well and you don't need to know HTML (or in my case guess at HTML) to modify your template. You'll also notice the wonderful new labels and archiving system and you can change the heading fonts and colours easily. Publishing happens more quickly and you can see how many comments have been made to each post on your edit post list page. The only slight minus I came across (until now) is you have to work on your template if you have links, clocks and weather ladies.

There is a bigger downfall in the plan for me now. With Blogger being part of the Google empire it would have made me sign up for a Google account. Perhaps all Greek to you I appeciate, but basically because I already had a Gmail account, that is now what I sign in under, not my old Blogger ID.

And here lies the snag. Blogger Beta and Old Blogger are not compatable and now I am unable to make comments on others' blogs if they aren't on Blogger Beta. Neither can I sign in under my old Blogger ID.

So in the long term, if you have a (Blogger) blog that I comment on from time to time, sign up to Blogger Beta and then you can still value from my witty comments and pearls of wisdom.

In the short term, Rosstopher I want to see your holiday photies!

Thank you.

PS fully marks to Blogger for this ingenious idea of getting more people to sign up to the new version. Manipulative gits.

Oh lordy

I've updated blogger and in the process lost my links, weather girl and clock!

As if being a Monk wasn't already a life of sacrifice

My parents are being tourist guides this week to people from England. All well and good I thought. That was until I met them. Don’t get me wrong, they’re lovely people and all, I met them last night when they came over from dinner. But it was like dinner with Wallace and Wendolene. They didn’t ask for Wensleydale or anything but I was expecting it, they sounded exactly like them. The funniest statement of the meal though came when Wendolene asked my mum as she was pouring the Shloer did she make it herself! Have they never seen it in Yorkshire? Is it not a staple of Christmas there? But most obviously, did she not see the big massive label that would rule out any home brewing of the fizzy apple juice?!

If know me at all, you’ll know I hate noises eating noises and the like. People hitting cutlery off their teeth, slurping drinks, and generally eating like a donkey grates on me like nails down a blackboard to other people. A few seconds into the dinner last night I turned to see what the noise was to discover it was Wallace sniffing. He carried this on every other second of the entire meal. And where was Sniffy Snifferson sitting? Right beside me of course. Believe me when I say I could not get to a snuffle free environment quick enough, and I internally cursed my mother when she presented the dessert. Food fans will be pleased to hear that I endured the intolerable sniffing for a further five minutes to enjoy the best apple pie in the world…ever.

In other news I got a new phone. Last year I didn’t have much choice in turning my back on Nokia, this year I did and I switched to Sony Ericcson. I feel like I am cheating on Nokia, really I do. There are a few annoying things about it, like I can’t seem to change the left and right menu buttons, I press the wrong buttons all the time, ‘bt’ comes up before ‘at’ and most worrying for y’all, I may have to take photos with the phone sideways which will give away the game for the old surreptitious photos.


I can’t decide if I like the red or not. Technically I can still return it if I don’t like it so all is not lost for Nokia.

But I do think it’s relatively easy to use, it’s got a good clear screen, and how sad am I – like the font. Ruth has also shown me the cool animation things you can add to messages. So all things considered it’s not bad.

One thing though, in predictive text why does ‘nun’ come up before ‘mum’ and ‘sacred’ before ‘scared’? Why would the inventor of predictive text put those first? I can’t think of one instance in my life when I have needed to write ‘nun’ in a hurry. Nope, not one. Neither can I think of a sentence where I would put 'sacred'. ‘Holy’ maybe, but not 'sacred'. Also ‘monk’ isn’t a known word? Seems a little unfair to me. If I were a monk I’d be writing a sternly worded letter. Maybe I’ll petition on their behalf. Or then again, maybe I'll not.

Blogging on the Sabbath

I feel I have neglected my blog the past couple of days. I really haven’t meant to, it just worked out like that. For a start I have been busy, I have a job, I have friends, I have a social life, in short I have a life, but here I am, making an effort on a Sunday night to update you on my life once again.

So my second weekend home was good. It started with a trip down memory lane with a night out with the girls from my group of friends from school. Some of them I haven’t seen the day we got our A Level results, and some of them I see weekly. It was strange to look around the table and see the same faces that I saw everyday for about six years. At the start of the night I thought everyone had changed so much, more grown up looking and more life experience under their belt, but it only took about an hour before I realised that everyone was pretty much the same, except we all looked more grown up and had more life experience.

On Saturday morning Karen Next Door and I went to our photography class. Oh lordy, what have I done? We saw the coursework of someone from last year, this is not some sort of dossy course we’re on. But I am looking forward to actually understanding what it is we have to do and getting cracking on taking some photos.

Saturday night I went up and saw Lynsey’s new apartment. This only proved to make me want to move out of the parental home even more. I love my parents, really I do but it’s time. Plus this way I wouldn’t have to actually tidy my room, I could just start over with a new one. Plusses all round then.

Today I went to church, like the good Christian girl I am. Then I went to Tescos like the heathen I am (not). I got stuff for my lunches this week. Ne pas de money so having things in the office will avoid buying sandwiches from Centra, although I’m still hopeful of the odd Globe trip.

This afternoon I successfully managed to avoid tidying my stuff from America and now I am about to go out to YF. And I’m late as usual. Told you I hadn't changed. Although I do look more grown up and I have more life experience.

Traffic

Since I got home I have driven on the wrong side of the road (once), gone to get into the wrong side of the car (a few times), wondered which way to go round a roundabout and panicked when I thought someone was on the side of the junction that I was supposed to turn into (once each). Not bad considering I really can’t tell the difference between left and right and no accidents have resulted.

In America, they could not make driving easier for you if they tried. There are parking spaces everywhere, and generally they’re free. Traffic jams don’t really happen (although having said that coming home from Asheville there was usually traffic at the most odd times along I-40, usually Friday late night, or Sunday afternoon. I never did find out the purpose of all that construction work either. I always feel better when I know the reason). And then of course there’s the price of petrol.

I hate traffic. I hate sitting my day away in a line of cars that is going nowhere fast. I hate that they are working on the Westlink and that even on a Saturday afternoon you can’t go near the road for fear that you’ll be trapped in highway hell for the next forty five minutes to go two miles. But most of all I hate that I cannot park outside my office without parking on double yellow lines, whilst living in constant fear that a traffic warden might come and give me a ticket. Parking in south Belfast is a ruddy nightmare!


The Westlink links…um the West (of Belfast and indeed Northern Ireland). It joins two motorways (interstates) and saves you having to go into Belfast to get to the other side of it. It was built with limited foresight however, two lanes were never enough even back in the day and gridlock generally results. They are working to make it three lanes and have flyovers. I can’t believe it’s really going to help that much and while they work on it it’s traffic death.

I am actually surprised by how much we are willing to take here. Why should the traffic be so bad all the time? Why should we have to get up at the crack of dawn to avoid it and get a parking space? Why should the price of petrol be so expensive? ($6.35 a gallon)

I know it’s just the way it is and sure there’s the whole global warming thing (which according to my hairdresser in Hicksville doesn’t exist – it’s a forty year cycle to Prof. Snippy Snips whose science took him as far as colouring hair. I’m no scientist either but surely there comes a point where you just have to listen to people who actually study this kind of thing) but it doesn’t take away from making your life just that little bit harder and that sucks.

I know I’m not the only one who feels like this either. Otherwise, why when you go through turning-to-red-traffic-lights when you really shouldn’t have, do the three cars behind you go too?

Hitting the ground running

I'm back in good old NI again, home safe and sound. In retrospect it really wasn’t that bad, but at the time I just wanted to get home. But a day in New York City can never be bad right?


I played on the ‘Big’ piano in FAO Schwartz with the other children (those are the trousers I nearly threw away and Sunday’s tank top. Nice. I bought new underwear from the mighty Old Navy, in case you think I'm truly gross.)


I got me a hot dog from a street seller like a true New Yorker. Which reminds me, yet more people asked me for directions which once again proves my point, I look even look like a true New Yorker! Reason enough to move I think.

I walked up 5th Avenue to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, alas time was against me so I didn't see much. But I was dying for a pee I stopped in at the bathrooms and on my way saw the Egyptian Hall.


Technically I shouldn't have seen this because I didn't pay, but I was about to burst. What can I say, I'm Tina and I stole museum entrance, but I'd prefer to say that than 'I'm Tina and I disgraced myself by peeing on fine art because my bladder couldn't hold on any longer'. I'm sure given the choice, the Met would rather the first statement too.


They love New York. But my question is did they plan it or what it just a happy coincidence?

So since getting back I have started back in the Youth Department, half unpacked, started my photography course, slept and had a partay!

Who says you can't go home?

Everytime Atlanta

Packing was a nightmare. An absolute nightmare. I have a lot of stuff, stuff I like, stuff I wanted so I took it all. Well most of it. I finished tidying my office at 3.00am and went home and packed. Packing took forever and at 9.00am I was done. Like I said I had a lot of stuff, everything was weighed so as to not be overweight. I had two suitcases of 70lbs, a box of 50lbs. That was getting checked. My hand luggage is a 40lb suitcase, a back pack, my laptop, a little sport bag. Oh and a poster. A lot of stuff.

So at Atlanta my flight was delayed so they put me on a Delta flight which being Atlanta and the most hateful airport I’ve ever had the misfortune to be in was the in the complete other side of the airport, in the other terminal. So, cart with 230lb worth of my stuff and everything else in my hands had to ‘run’ over to get checked in there. The woman at check in told me she didn’t need the bit of paper with my details, she’d find it on the computer. However what she didn’t know was that the bit of paper had the all important word ‘Belfast’ on it. So my luggage was only checked through to Newark, NJ. So any advantage of getting in earlier than my original flight was instantly wipped as I’d have to go to baggage claim. Eventually they got my luggage tags reprinted with Belfast and said that they couldn’t give me my other boarding card. They told me to go back to the North terminal to get it, but to be quick or I’d miss my flight.

So back to Continental where they told me I didn’t need to be here, I could get the card at the gate. So I left, with all my stuff all over the place, I had ten minutes to get to the gate. At security I had a near meltdown which was actually funny…now. He told me to combine bags, fine I will. 'Do it here' pointing to a space. I moved to go where he told me, hitting him in the face with the poster. He thought this was me attacking him and shouted at me saying I needed to do it here. I cried. And shouted back and probably caused a scene. They marked me for an extra security check. Spiteful gits. Atlanta, as well as being utterly hateful is huge. I had to get the train and then run. I made it to the gate, plane delayed. Super.

On the plane I discovered that there were two other people trying to get the Belfast flight. We got moved up the plane so we could get off. Very handy. Not so handy was the fact we had to change terminal. Again other train. Because of the terminal change I had to go through security, but you’ll remember I didn’t have my boarding card. So there was no way I was getting through there.

I’m not sure I would have made it even if I had my card and arrived in the terminal but the fact I didn’t see the others makes me think they might have. At Atlanta I had been told that if I missed my connection I’d be on my own because it was weather delays, and not their fault. I decided to fly on because trying and failing is better than not to try at all. At Newark they changed their minds and I was put up in a hotel, because Belfast being the major international hub it is, there’s only one flight a day.

I know smart people who pack for just such an occasion where they are stranded. I don’t (plus remember packing was a nightmare). In fact you would be hard pressed to come up with a more useless list of things to have in your hand luggage. Clothes-wise I have no underwear, a pair of trousers that I nearly threw away, a white work shirt (which I would be more excited about if the bra of choice yesterday wasn’t black) and yesterday’s tank top. Security restrictions mean I have no toothbrush or paste, no make up remover and no make up. But what I do have is my jewellery box (no jewellery inside though), lanyards from the Conference and all my bank stuff. Marvellous.

Anyway I’m about to go into New York City for the afternoon. I’ll see you tomorrow. Hopefully.

Seriously

I should be on the plane. I should be racing the sun to the other side. I should be hours away from Belfast. I should be, but I’m not. Details tomorrow, but it’s a lot to do with Atlanta airport, non existent weather and a missed flight. More tomorrow. On here, not in person sadly.

Seriously running out of time. Seriously.

So when I said tidying had to happen on Friday, apparently I was ruling out the possibility of not doing it then, having a great (but busy) weekend and coming into the office in the middle of the night to file, tidy and trash my year’s work. Still got to pack at home and less than 12 hours til I leave the lake. In fine tradition of Tina leaving on a jet plane, I will not be going to bed tonight.

I think I’m going home a different person to the one that arrived here just about a year ago. But I think it’s a good different.

I no longer get homesick. This is the girl who spent most of her university years missing home yet I have lived in America for just about a year and only got homesick twice. Neither time resulted in my actually crying.

I actually quite like country music. This is the girl who said once upon a time ‘I don’t understand how anybody could like country music’ yet now I can happily listen to Country music and dare I say the words, sing along.

I have improved my writing skills thanks to Princess. This is the girl who, everytime she had an essay due at uni, would have a grand countdown til the word count was reached. I’d even write ‘The Second World War’ rather than ‘World War Two’ because it’d get me an extra word. Seriously. I must write a good one thousand words a week on here.

I'm know there's more, but one thing I would like you to not make comment on is any Americanisms, and any twang to my accent. Kathryn H has already pointed it out to me. But a year, I lived here for a year. It was bound to happen. So let’s just say now I know and I’m working on it. Anyway it’s all of you who have the accent. I talked to Ross earlier on the phone and I nearly couldn’t understand him. I’m trying to believe it was the phone connection and not that fact that I can’t understand my own people. Start to worry if I repeat you when you say 'bin', 'petrol' or 'sidewalk'.

It is totally mixed emotions going home. All in the same breath it’s ‘Yay! I’m going home! Aww. I’m going home.’

I’m excited about living by the sea again, but I’m going to miss the lake.

I’m looking forward to driving my car but I’m going to miss how easy they make driving in America. Gif-ted. Especially now I have the right-side wrong-side of the road worked out.

I’m excited about seeing roundabouts again (even stupid painted on mini roundabouts) but I’m going to miss needless stop signs

I’m looking forward to seeing my friends but I’m going to miss my friends.

I’m looking forward to being in the land of the BBC but I’ll miss all the great US programmes.

My right foot is looking forward to my left foot doing some work when I drive but my left foot is going to miss resting on the pocket of the door.

I'm going to miss the mountains but I'm looking forward to seeing how my altitude training here will help me at sea level.

I’m going to miss free refills but...hmm...yeah, there is no upside to that. I'm just going to miss free refills.

Anyway, I’ve put a lot of stuff on here about my life here, but no means it all. You should hear the stories that didn’t make to the blog, there were some crackers. Funny things just happen to me, I can’t help it. But I really don’t know if I’ll keep on writing here. Somehow I can’t imagine my life at home will be that interesting to y’all. Plus my next employers read it so there’ll be less opportunity to blog in work. Maybe I’ll not write so often. Or maybe when I write, I’ll write to an American perspective about Irish life. I guess we’ll see what happens, which is the principle I tend to live my life by.

Anyway now I really have to tidy now. Seriously.

Running out of time

I have about about 100 hours left in the States. Very slowly I am getting things sorted out for my move home. I've shipped two ridicously large boxes home and I've sorted out my bank stuff. Ok, so very slowly as I still have to make and give leaving presents, do a final shop for all things cheaper here than home, write a report, say my goodbyes, and of course, the nightmare that will pack the rest of my stuff.

However one day left in the office and it looks like this:


Don't worry, I'm fine. I was not hurt in the paper explosion.

Tomorrow is tidying day. No tomorrow has to be tidying day.

Lord have mercy.

Things that made me chuckle

Next in my occassional series of church signs , I came across these and thought I’d put them into a collection for you.


Better than Baskin Robbins you say? I’m there!


I want to be a spiritual champion!

And of course the good people at Harmony Fellowship were at it again:


No. 1 you say? Well then point me to the nearest bookstore!

Of course you can always take the approach of pointing out the monetary advantage of church:


Free Bible Study?! Count me in, bible studies can be so expensive.

In defence of Country

I know I’m headed for a lot of abuse when I hit Irish shores for my turnaround on Country music so I thought I’d pre-empt it somewhat and try and defend it. Honestly, some of it really isn’t that bad. I mean, sure there are some stereotypical artist and songs, but there is a lot of contemporary country which is, dare I say it, good.

So let me present Tina's Top Ten Reasons why Country isn’t that bad

10. You don’t need an English degree to understand the lyrics. As I’ve said before metaphors don’t exist, they sing it as it is.

9. Nicole Kidman is married to a huge country star. She has excellent judgement. (I’m talking more about the roles she’s decided to play, not so much about her previous husband.)

8. Carrie Underwood won the last season of American Idol. Thirty million Americans can’t be hardly be wrong.

7. Y’all like country too, you just don’t know it. Shania Twain, country. LeAnn Rimes, country. Lonestar, country. Sheryl Crow, country. Faith Hill, country. Trisha Yearwood, country. ‘Sweet Home Alabama’, country.

6. Technically, we, or rather our ancestors are to blame can take credit, it came from Anglo Celtic folk music.

5. They aren’t pretrentious about writing their own songs and playing on them.

4. Johnny Cash and Dolly Parton.

3. The Dixie Chicks proved you could be country and not be blindly Republican.

2. Musically, it’s very accomplished. And I say that with all the authority my GCSE Music and Grade 5 Theory of Music gives me, which is...you know...a lot.

1. It’s hilarious. Any genre of music with lines like ‘Save a horse, ride a cowboy’, ‘she thinks my tractor’s sexy’, or ‘you’re not as beautiful when I’m not drunk’ is surely worth a listen.

September 11th

It is to our generation what Kennedy’s assassination was to our parents, everyone knows where they were when they found out. I was in the second week of TOM training and I had just arrived at a meeting in David N’s house. He answered the door with the words ‘America is under attack!’ I had just got back from summer camp and just two weeks earlier had been in Washington DC and New York City. We watched the TV for a while in abject horror before trying to have the meeting. I don’t think we got much covered.

A couple of weeks ago when I was down in Greenville the evening’s activity was the cinema. As is the often the way, there wasn’t one film everyone wanted to see so we spilt up. I ended up going to see ‘World Trade Center’ with Mellissa. It wasn’t something that I had particularly planned to see but I wasn’t opposed to seeing it.

It’s definitely not a popcorn sort of film. It wasn’t comfortable viewing and shares something in common with The Passion of the Christ in the regard. But, like The Passion of the Christ, it is worth seeing if you think you can manage it. It’ll put you back to that day and all the emotions that you went through. But it’s also quite a positive film, it shows you the power of the human spirit, how when you think you can’t go on, somehow you get the strength from above to do what you thought was impossible.

Rightly or wrongly a lot has happened in the five years since, but if you think you can watch it I strongly recommend that you see this film when it comes out. It’ll remind you how it all started, with ordinary people starting out on what they thought would be an ordinary day. That day changed things for everyone but so much more for some than others.

So remember that thing I did

Otherwise titled, 'Look no colon!'

Remember the Conference? That was my whole reason of being here in the first place but I haven’t talked about it since coming home. For good reason too. The publishers think that writing on here will adversely affect sales of the book (available Christmas from No. 9). Suffice to say the cry count continues to rise, while the hours slept per night did not. My publishers have allowed me to show you a few photos. Enjoy. It’ll be the last you hear about it from me without paying.


This is the view from the second hotel of the trip. I've never slept higher up. I really liked that Tripod building.


In the room the toilet had a heated toilet seat. Oh how the other half live.


The lobby of the uber-church, about four times as big as my actual church. Actually this photo is taken from the half way point. It was big!


There were women in traditional dress at every turn in the church and they bowed every time you walked past. Eventually I told them they didn't need to bow for me. Dear love them, I walked, no ran past them about a thousand times a day. It got even more West Wing when I actually said to someone 'walk with me' to talk about whatever it was while I was on my way somewhere.


This man is the representative from the Vatican. I of course embarrassed myself by asking questions about the Pope's funeral. Well I figured he'd never see me again. However I did not tell him that I used to think they burnt the voting papers without looking at them and depending on what colour the smoke was that was how they knew if they had a new Pope. There's embarrassing and then there's being just plane stupid. In my defence I was much younger, and there hadn't been a new Pope in about 15 years and my dad couldn't remember exactly what happened so his explanation was a bit fuzzy.

So that's it, now you'll have to wait for the book. I might even sign a copy for you.