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.

Long Weekend: Michelle, her friends and the sights

So with Michelle being all cool and all I knew we’d have a good weekend and I wasn’t wrong. I’ve spent a bit of time in Washington DC before so I wasn’t in a desperate rush to see the sights. I was more interested in hanging out with Michelle and her friends.

On Saturday night we went out to a bar in the ‘trendy Adams Morgan district’ (that’s how it’s always described in tourist guides) which is just a short walk from where Michelle lives. There we met up with her boyfriend and his friends. It was a good night but after little sleep the night before and a long drive I wasn’t up for a long one. But despite leaving relatively early, Michelle and I talked a good while when we got back to her apartment. Isn’t it great how you have friends, that no matter how long it has been, you can always pick up from where you were. Michelle and I are like that. I last saw her in March 2004, before that September 2002. We talked a few times over this year but we weren’t regularly in touch, yet this weekend was just like old times.

On Sunday morning, Michelle performed her hostess duties wonderfully and made us cinnamon French toast. Mmmn. Then we headed out to the National Cathedral. It was only built in the Twentieth Century but has all the architecture of a Gothic Cathedral. We didn’t go to a service there or anything but it was still nice to go and see it.

Washington DC is a brilliant city for me to go to. I honestly can’t decide what I get more excited about when I’m there, the Government buildings and Memorials or the fact that so much reminds me of the West Wing. The National Cathedral was like that. I mean it was cool to see where (some) Presidents have funerals and are buried, the State flags, the architecture, and I suppose above all, a place of God where a nation comes to mourn national tragedies and pray for the country. All that being said however, it’s also the place of one of the most amazing scenes ever from The West Wing, Mrs. Landingham’s funeral.


‘You get Hoynes!’

As we were on our way out Michelle spotted a sign advertising coffee. We went over and to our delight there were also cookies. As Michelle and I lifted one, a priest came over. Man, did he make us work for those cookies. In those situations, it's always nice to be able to drop in who I work for.


So after the Cathedral we went to the National Zoo. The zoo is one of Michelle’s favourite places in the world apparently. It’s right across the street from where she lives, and like most things in DC, it’s free. Yay!


Even this had West Wing connotations (when Mandy tries to get a panda from China). Michelle was super excited to see the pandas. There was one born about a year ago, it seems DC was gripped by the story at the time. They still are. There was also a headline this week that Michelle showed me, and no joke, it was ‘Breaking News: Tai Shan still adorable’. We laughed about that for a good twenty minutes. No, actually all afternoon.

Michelle had invited round some friends in the evening for a barbeque. Again, it was good to meet her friends, especially because some of them were from the UK and we were able to have a chat about all things British, you know the football, the pound, the Queen, tea, fish and chips...

On Monday I forced asked Michelle to go downtown to the Mall and see all the sights. She doesn’t often go down there, too many tourists she says. But it’s like going to London and not seeing Big Ben, or Buckingham Palace. We stopped off on the way at her office which is just a short walk from the White House. Seriously, how cool?


Even though I’ve seen it before, it’s still amazing to stand here.

We then headed over to the Washington Monument. When I was there last they were still building the World War Two Memorial so I wanted to see that. There was some sort of exclusion zone set up between the Mall and the Memorial and we had to walk the long way round to get there, which got Michelle explaining about she loved DC but hated all the security sometimes, especially as the funding for DC police who provide a lot of security for national politicians comes out of DC taxes. Fair point, but it was kind of lost on me as all of a sudden a helicopter landed right in front of us. Then another one.

A crowd had gathered to see who disembarked. As I looked around I decided, in my wisdom, that there just wasn’t enough security for it to be anyone dead important and although we couldn’t really see from where we were, the people that got off looked like they were getting off the 11.30 from Baltimore or something. But just as I was wondering what all the fuss was about, a third helicopter swooped in. This one didn’t land on the grass in front of us though. Oh no, this one went straight on to the South lawn of the White House.


We decided that the first two were Press, and that's why the people who got off them looked so thoroughly bored and as if landing on the lawn at the Washington Monument was no big deal.


A quick check on tinternet later told us that El Presidente had been in Maryland delivering a speech at an training centre that morning. I don’t care what you say, I saw Marine One and Bush was on board! This is Marine One leaving, captured quite beautifully between the Washington Monument and a water fountain at the WW2 Memorial.

We walked up the Mall towards the Capitol building. All my photos up that point had been just me and/or the sight in question and I needed to get some of me and Michelle. So I stopped a fellow tourist with a camera to get him to take the photo. He passed the camera to his wife, saying, and I quote ‘oh I’ll let the photographer take the photo’. This is her work:


Well so long as our knees are in the shot!

Seriously, am I just being fussy at these attractions or do people take crap photos for me? The dome is probably the most distinctive feature of the Capitol and there she’s gone and chopped it off. Right enough I said ‘can you take a photo of us?’ but we were standing right in front of, arguably, the most important building in the US and she couldn’t find room in the photo for it. Some day I’m going to set up an international course, Tourist Photography 101. It’ll be just a short course but the graduates can wear a badge when they are out and about and people will know that they can approach them to take a decent shot of them at wherever. I like to think of it as my bit to promote harmony among the nations.

Alas, our sightseeing was over all too quickly and it was time for me to hit the road again back to North Carolina. However there was one stop to be made on the way home.


That’s right, dinner in West Virginia. Chalk another one up to me. Hicksville, NC has nothing on Beyondbackofbeyondburg, WV. I now know how Doc Hollywood felt, I was clearly the biggest news in the town since Bobbie-Ray fell off the tractor in 1978.

One last note to show off about my cool friend Michelle. That’ll probably be the last time I see her in DC for a while at least. She just got a new job which is more to do with her qualifications in Forensics (told you she was smart). She’s off to New York City to be the assistant to the Chief Medical Examiner doing DNA analysis on crime scenes. That’s right, real life CSI:NY. (Or for those students amongst us, she’ll be the Sam to some Quincy or other, only with DNA. Ah imagine what Quincy could have done with DNA, no more matching blood types. He’d have been unstoppable. Much like my cool friend Michelle it seems).

Long weekend: Old friends

We all know people who don’t try to be cool, yet they just are cool personified. For me, one of those people is Michelle, a girl who worked in summer camp the same year as me. She was introduced to me as the example of how to counsel at camp, how to be a leader yet how to have fun with those you are leading. Honestly, I have never seen so many teenagers look up to someone. The girls wanted to be like her, the boys wanted to marry someone like her.

She has the most infectious way of talking you ever heard. Anyone, within about fifteen minutes of meeting her will be talking like her without even realising it. Michelle is the reason why I put ‘super’ in front of adjectives and why I say ‘good work’ amongst a whole host of other Michelle-isms I’m sure I am unaware of. Am I getting the point across that she is just cool? Like most cool people, she has no clue how cool she actually is.

Anyway, we had talked a couple of weeks ago and kicked about the idea of me spending Labor Day weekend with her. We didn’t speak for a while after that so I wasn’t sure if the plan was still happening. Then she called me Thursday and asked whether I was still heading up. Jose’s party caused a bit of confusion but for all the reasons above and then some I was there.

Another dimension of Michelle’s coolness is where she lives what she does (and I think anyway). She works for a big law firm in the nation’s capital, Washington D.C. She kind of fell into it by accident, working there while she was getting her Masters from George Washington University in DC (as well working in the Smithsonian Museums as a researcher, damn girl is smart too).

She is quite seriously someone you cannot help have fun with. So when she asked was I still coming I didn’t even think twice, despite the 1000 mile roundtrip (for the second weekend in a row, just call me Long Distance Clara)

So on Saturday morning I was back on the road, heading north to DC. The journey from Greenville, South Carolina took me through North Carolina and Virginia and again this was not a short trip. When I stopped for lunch I realised I'd pretty much pass through Fredericksburg, Virginia which I knew from my history. So I stopped there for a while.


Fredericksburg was the town where the Washingtons lived. This is me at Kenmore House, the house where George Washington's sister, Betty and her husband, Fielding lived. In olden times the garden backed on the garden of Mary Washington's (Mummy Washington) house. I bet Fielding was delighted. 'Eh...honey there's a great house outside of Fredericksburg you'd love. I mean, sure you have to ride the horse into town to see your mother and you're right she couldn't just pop over anytime...'

After Fredericksburg it was quite a short drive to Washington. I have driven on a lot of road way in my time (especially in the last two weeks) but I seriously doubt I’ll drive anywhere cooler than past…


the Pentagon or...


the Washington Monument and Jefferson Memorial or...


Pennsylvania Avenue (White House street) The building on the right is the OEOB West Wing fans. Actually it's called the Eisenhower Executive Office Building now, but OEOB is fun to say.

More tomorrow about what Michelle and I got up in DC.

Tina: The Return

I sent out an email to hopefully most of you, but if you didn't get it here's the information!

Welcome Back Tina slash

Happy Birthday* Tina Bash

(changed from the email because it rhymes!)
at my house on
Friday 22nd September at 7.30pm.

*No presents are necessary, it was two months ago afterall. But I turned 26 and like platinum jewellery and fast cars if you're looking for something to bring me!

Please let know if you plan on coming for food and stuff. I'll show you photos of my year (no slideshow, promise!) and tell you the stories of what all I got up to (then I promise I'll never mention America again!) and you can fill me in on what I've missed since going. We might even play a few games and what not. And who doesn't love games?!

To make things easy for you, you can copy and paste either of these sentences into your reply:

**Yay Tina, You're coming back! I cannot wait to see you and I will be there on the 22nd.**

Sorry Tina, I am loser and will not be coming out then because _____________ (only genuine reasons accepted eg life saving surgery, jail, being out of the country). I suck and I will ever be in awe of your greatness. I fully understand if you never want to talk to me again.

I'd really love it if you can come! Let me know if you need directions out to my house and I will happily provide them. It honestly is not that far from Belfast, like 15 miles and if I can drive to Memphis in a day then you can surely drive to see me, your friend, someone you haven't seen in ma-onths!

Long weekend: New friends

I hate the way you do that thing after you’re off on a Monday and you get all the days of the week wrong for the rest of the week. But it is a small price to pay for a long weekend I guess.

So if Memorial Day starts the summer, Labor Day finishes it. My long weekend started off with a party in Greenville.


There were several reasons for the party, it was Matt and Will’s birthday in May and they were away for them and Jose and I were leaving.

Greenville parties are an event. This one was no different and was done as only they can, with a theme. We’ve had all sorts of themed parties over the year, 80s, sleepover, World Cup, Hawaiian luau. This weekend’s theme? White trash. I think it’ll be hard to top that one.

This year would have been a lesser experience if I hadn’t had the Greenville people to hang out with. Most of my fun memories and good laughs come from the people I met in South Carolina and to start to say goodbye to that with Jose leaving was sad.

But that said, hilarious theme for a party.


'This is my girlfriend...and my cousin'


I don't think I've ever seen them looking better! (That's Mellissa on the right, nothing like me when she's not playing poker!)

Roadtrippin'

I love road trips .There’s just something about a long journey. I really don’t know what it is about. I don’t think it’s to do with the excitement of the destination, it’s the journey itself I like. I think it comes from going to Dublin on the train with my dad when we were little. Two hours on the train felt like forever and you could set up camp at your seat and table.

Last week I decided that as I only had four weekends left in America I should use my time constructively and take a trip. So I started to plan where I would go. I got a road map from the mighty Wal Mart and looked to see where the road could take me. America is a seriously big country and there was no point setting out with no plan in mind. My goal was too see how far I could get while at the same time visiting some of the places I’d pass through. After a lot of research on tinternet and with my road map I came up with a itinerary.

Friday night – Chattanooga, Tennessee.
Saturday afternoon – Huntsville, Alabama
Saturday evening – Memphis, Tennessee
Sunday afternoon – drive back to the lake.

The whole trip was over 1000 miles so I’ll tell you the story through my photo journal, otherwise I might never get the story told.


I saw this in Tennesse and it made me laugh. In my experience antiques are never action filled, they are slow, old and boring. I have been scarred by Sunday teatimes with The Antique Roadshow where you can’t talk in case you talk over something interesting, or the best bit when you find out how much the old ugly lamp is worth.

Not far outside Chattanooga there’s a place called Lookout Mountain where you can see seven states from the top. It sounded good to me, so off I went. Now, if you’ve ever done any sort of travelling in America or maybe you’ll know from films that Interstates are full of big advertising hoardings telling you what’s coming up in the next fifty miles or so, you know restaurants (normally Cracker Barrel) or ‘tourist attractions’ which will usually be something like ‘The World’s Largest Cat Fur Ball five miles ahead off Exit 25’. I’d put Lookout Mountain in the class above that. Just. Let’s just say it would be a lot different if the National Trust owned it.


See what I mean, what have they done to the caves? Elves?!


But the actual look out point is pretty. And I saw seven states in one look.


But it was off to Alabama (through Georgia). This marked my first return to the Central Time Zone since 2000. Sadly there wasn't any sort of a welcome back Tina sign. Alabama was incredibily hot, around the mid-90s (35 centigrade). My first word, which I actually said out loud, when I got out of my comfortably air conditioned car was 'blazing'. I can't think of a single other time in my life when I have said that word, in any circumstance. That's what the heat does to you.


You’ve got to love American town names. Rainsville was actually distinctly sunny. My favourite town name on the trip however was Bucksnort in Tennessee. Great name. Full credit to whoever came up with that one.


The main industry in Huntsville, Alabama over the past fifty years has been space engineering and apparently is nicknamed ‘Rocket City’. Well you can see why.


One of my reasons for wanting to go here was to see the Space Camp sign. I loved that film when I was growing up and last year’s ‘Space Camp’ Y&C’s team hoodie at CHW made me want to come here. I was hoping I could get an actual Space Camp badge to sew on. Alas, there were none. (They said ‘Space Academy’ which isn’t as funny somehow.)


Let me just say Hollywood there is no way on this earth you could actually accidentally launch one of these rockets.


So as the name suggests there is actually a ‘Space Camp’ where kids can go and learn all about space, rockets and what not, there’s lots of simulation machines. This is a group of the geeks Space Cadets.


They had signs in the car park telling you about the solar sytem and all that. So, eh, not to be a smart arse NASA museum, but didn’t they decide Pluto wasn’t actually a planet last week? Don’t worry Pluto, you’ll always be a planet to me, I have the Game of Knowledge to prove it.


They have rides to simulate space travel including a big centrifuge to get the G forces. The tower in the background shoots you up in the air like lift off. I nearly peed myself on this. I could never be an Astronaut, such a waste of my qualifications.


After Alabama it was into Mississippi where I stopped for dinner in Corinth.


This is the sign outside Corinth’s newspaper. I think ‘Letter to the Corinthians’ would be better. I so want the editor to be called Paul.

Sunday morning I woke up early so I could get everything done in Memphis that I wanted to see. First stop, Graceland.


This is Elvis’ front room, complete with 15 foot long sofa.


Elvis and Prsicilla’s wedding outfits. Although the photo doesn’t show it, his suit was officially the worst I have ever had the misfortune to see. I know, odd, because he was such a classy dresser usually. Priscilla must be about four foot nothing and I was surprised that Elvis didn’t appear to be much bigger. Maybe all famous people are shorter that they appear, my mum says that Prince Philip is much shorter in real life


Rest in peace. I actually really enjoyed seeing Graceland and even though I don’t know many of his songs I’ve decided that it’s the fans I dislike.

As my group were being shepherded to the shuttle bus I took a photo of the front of the house. Then I realised I should get someone to take my photo in front of the house. Oh the trouble I had.


This is me and Elvis’ driveway. The guy seemed like he could line up a shot, but apparently not. In restrospect though it was much better than the next guy...


who took the photo without me in it!

I realised this only when I was on the shuttle bus and so asked to go back up again and get the photo, I decided that I paid my money and it was likely going to be a very long time before I should ever be back again. After some gentle persuasion I was allowed. They must get Elvis freaks all the time asking for things like this.


So here is me and Graceland. I would have preferred the people out of the way but given the first two attempt I decided to take what I could get.


For lunch it was off to Arkansas. According to the Tina rules of countries and states, you can only count it if you have had a meal in said country or state outside of a transportation system. And ideally you have to see some sort of attraction. Therefore planes, airports and trains don’t count. So add another state to my list, Arkansas.


After lunch I headed back to the great state of Tennessee. I stopped on the banks of the Mississippi River for this photo before going on to my next stop.


The Lorraine Motel where Martin Luther King, Jr. was shot. It’s now the site of the National Civil Rights Museum.


The museum was actually super, but I like a good museum, me. But it really is very well done. It takes you right through the story of Civil Rights in America (which is something I studied at school and University so that might also explain it). Then you get to explore what happened on April 4th 1968 when, to quote Bono, a shot rang out in the Memphis sky. This is the window from where Martin Luther King was shot.

After a serious, educational and actually quite brilliant afternoon, it was back along I-40 all the way across Tennessee. This is not a short drive. It took about eight hours. I stopped in Nashville for a break and saw this.


Hee hee.

So that was that, my roadtrip into six states. I love roadtrips.