Jessica McFarland

The last topic was about Nashville, and now we’re going just an hour to the northeast.

Still in Tennessee, of course. As mentioned previously, I’ve spent quite a bit of time there, as my mother’s side of the family has some land on the Cumberland River, about an hour’s drive from Nashville. And although I would never claim to be “from Tennessee” (because a) I wasn’t born there b) I didn’t grow up there and c) even today my driver’s license isn’t from there), it is probably the one place that has been a constant in my life. Even now, although I only get back to the U.S. once or twice a year, I must go spend at least a few days at the farm.
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Well, it’s been a while since my last post. Life happens. Whatever.

To be honest, during this hiatus, it wasn’t just life-in-general that was happening: my very amazing and very wonderful parents graced me with a visit to London. They saw the sights and spoiled me in the process, as parents should do occasionally. It was a fantastic 10 days.

It also got me thinking about America. I’ve been living in the UK for four years now, and I only get back to the States a maximum of twice a year. This year I’ve skipped my summer trip, so it will have been at least a year since my previous visit when I get to go back again.
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This evening’s discussion begins in the shower.

In a rare concession to the even rarer hot British summer days, I was accompanied there by a can of Sainsbury’s Moisture Rich Shave Gel – Wild Berry scented.

I had purchased this particular item because it was ‘good value’ (i.e., cheap), and while it was certainly less offensive than a similarly-flavoured product procured from Northern High Street staple Home Bargains, (which cost about 50p and reeked of something between bubble gum and death), it did have the curious dual aroma of sugar and chalk, neither of which should technically smell like anything at all.

It still reminded me strongly of both, however. This is because the actual smell was that of cherry Pez. Or perhaps strawberry. It’s pink, anyway, and bears little resemblance to anything from a plant, berry or otherwise. In addition to ladies’ shave gel, the smell can also can be found in the toilet air fresheners of certain petrol stations.
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Yesterday I spent a good couple of hours looking at swimsuits. (All in a day’s work.)

After a while, the strangest thing happened. I suddenly had this wild and weird urge to be in Florida.

Now, I’ve felt like I’ve needed a vacation for quite a while now. The weather is usually cold or windy or rainy or some depressing combination of the three here, and I inevitably spend the rare occasional sunny day indoors. It’s supposed to be summer, and what’s more, my American upbringing has implanted the desire for 3 months off deep in my psyche.

But Florida, really? I had no idea my situation was that bad.
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For those of you who may not know me, and for those who do but would like to know more, I’ve assembled a list of little-known facts about myself, in lieu of an ‘About the Author’ page (which I really couldn’t be bothered with).

• The first CDs I ever owned (as I began to phase out cassette tapes, if you can remember those) were: The Saturday Night Fever Soundtrack, The Andrew Lloyd Weber Premiere Collection, and a collection of America (the band)’s greatest hits.
• I need glasses to see anything further than about 8 inches away from my nose. I lost interest in contacts and have never had any interest in non-life-saving surgery, so there ya go. Glasses.
• Early childhood fears include the moon, digital clocks with the time on the hour (double zeros), and the state of California. (This last one is the combined fault of The Eagles and the kid at school who swore up and down that there was a hotel in California that they wouldn’t let you leave.)
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