The Honeymoon, The Hurricane, and The Night King: Part One.

Well, hello again.

My apologies for the absence of new posts in the past few weeks. Things have been a bit on the crazy side and I needed to regain some control before sitting down to write again. What’s worse is that I didn’t exactly come up with any groundbreaking or insightful ideas for new articles during the past few weeks either. So instead of getting an interesting new piece, you’re getting a three-part recap series. It’s not even a that great of a recap series, but hey, there are pictures. Pictures are fun, right?

Probably not, considering they’re mostly self-indulgent selfies. Sorry.

Recap Part 1: The Honeymoon

I’m not a big fan of ceremonial processes like weddings, or honeymoons, or basically anything else a person does out of obligation. So initially, I vetoed a honeymoon. The idea seemed silly and wasteful, and like something more suited for the kind of people on one of those However Many Kids and Counting shows who have literally never touched before their wedding and need a week to go off and figure out how to be grown-ups.

But then I realized I was arguing about taking a vacation and somehow tradition required we indulge in high end accommodations. I guess the ceremonial stuff works in your favor from time to time.

We considered traditional honeymoon spots, you know, beachy locations like Puerto Rico and other Florida-like places, but ultimately wound up deciding to go on a bit of a site seeing tour of Atlanta and coastal South Carolina. Probably an odd sounding combination for a honeymoon, but we found it was a good way to combine our shared inability to sit still, with my lifelong desire to see a beluga whale, with a beachy first-class resort, with my other lifelong desire to have some level of firsthand access to a set from The Walking Dead.

Like I’d ever have a honeymoon that didn’t involve zombies, you guys.

Now, before I get into the pictures, I should probably let you know that I made the super-smart decision to try to color my own hair about 48 hours before we left. Consequently, I spent the majority of the remaining 47 hours bleaching, readying, and toning until I got my hair to the horrendous shade of blonde you see below, because it at least looked somewhat human. Just in case you saw it and thought I did it on purpose or something.

First we left really, really early in the morning:

And I remembered how much I hate flying Southwest and I wish they’d just assign us seats and get over it already.

Then we stopped for a long layover, and navigated the busiest airport in the world (literally), and tried 3 different rental cars out before we found one big enough to accommodate my husband’s height, and worked our way through traffic, and found our hotel, and tried to relax by the pool.

But there was the most annoying (visibly intoxicated) woman on earth hanging around bothering everyone and my husband broke his sunglasses, so we got dressed and walked to Target so he could get a new pair and I could replace the shoes that were hurting my feet so much I wanted to die.

I didn’t even care that the shoes weren’t particularly cute. They didn’t hurt my feet. Plus my husband and I had twinsy honeymoon shoes! (Eye roll)

Then we went to a mediocre restaurant and ate mediocre appetizers and took a Lyft back to the hotel because my feet might’ve actually fallen off if I’d walked any further, and fell asleep at something like 8:00 p.m. watching HGTV (which I was super excited about since I don’t have it at home) because we were exhausted.

The next morning we went to the World of Coca Cola, which is kind of a shrine to effective advertising, and the Georgia Aquarium where I finally saw my very smiley beluga whales, and a whale shark, and a weird dolphin show. We also ventured to the Center for Human Rights. I highly recommend it despite the fact that it will probably make you cry. Well, it made me cry anyway (publicly and unattractively), but I as I told my husband, there are worse things I could be than an empathic ugly-crier.

 
The black and white selfie is in front of the ONLY COPY OF THE OFFICIAL RECIPE FOR COKE in the WHOLE WORLD. The room is bright red, so trust me, it’s better that way.

 
This jerky sea turtle was a serial photo-bomber.

 

Once we finally drug ourselves back to the hotel (after stopping at Target again), we did more pool-sitting and eventually found a little restaurant and watched more HGTV and fell asleep early… again. Like I said, we aren’t good at sitting still.

Honeymoon day three was among one of the most exciting days of my life because well, it was Walking Dead tour day. It was also unseasonably cool for early September in the south, so I was forced to wear a ridiculous-looking Halloween scarf I bought from a discount bin at Target (not one of the two Targets we visited in Atlanta, the one by my house in Nebraska), so all of my pictures are kind of marred by it (and my stupid hair). But it couldn’t have been that bad, because I had three separate people compliment me on it that afternoon.

Oh, and despite it being cold and rainy, the cloud cover made for some extremely bright skies, so I’m squinting in just about every photo. So yeah, my Walking Dead day was documented by bad hair, a Halloween scarf, and squinty-eyed selfies.

PS- There is potential for some season 8 spoilers in the photos below. Consider yourself warned.


Bad hair? Check. Halloween scarf? Check. Squinty eyes? Check.


Hiding under bed house. Pudding on the roof house. You either get it, or you don’t.


Look closely. you can see the entrance to the “Alexandria Safe Zone” here.

If you ever do feel like taking a Walking Dead tour, and don’t want to invest an entire day touring the whole area looking at film sites, I highly recommend the Georgia Touring Company tour. At $25, it’s well worth the money. It was entertaining and fairly interesting to learn about television production in general, even if you’re not a fan. (Which would be totally stupid, but whatever.)

Before we left, our guide mentioned that there was a small museum in the basement of the Woodbury Shop (The official shop for the series). Imagine how excited I was when I discovered the actual real DONT OPEN DEAD INSIDE doors were on display and I was allowed to touch them!

Life goal #262 = Accomplished.

Naturally, we stopped by the Jackson Street bridge on the way back through Atlanta. I had to take extra-hurried selfies here because we were running short on time. Since there was no parking nearby, my husband had to pull the car over and turn on the hazard lights while I jumped out for about 10 seconds. I don’t recommend that.

Worst picture ever. Stupid bright sun.
Life goal #263 = Accomplished.

Just in case you need don’t understand why I insisted on stopping at that particular bridge:

As a bonus, it turns out this bridge is just a few blocks from the Martin Luther King, Jr., burial site and the Ebenezer Baptist Church where he was a minister alongside his father. We stumbled upon the site by accident and I’m very glad I was able to see it. As you can probably understand, this site, much like the Center for Human Rights, wasn’t a place I felt I wanted to snap touristy selfies.

And if that wasn’t enough, we also managed to make our way to the small, and free, museum at the CDC (since it’s not actually blown-up in real life). The CDC does not play around with visitors, so if you happen to decide to visit, be prepared to have your car searched and to go through a fairly heavy-duty security check before getting inside. Unfortunately, they don’t allow photos, so I don’t have any except for this one of our badges.

As a bonus, if you’re a true crime fan or dare I say, Murderino, there’s a tiny exhibit within the museum that talks a little about how criminal profilers had begun to use the CDC’s disease models to profile serial killer and determine their most likely targets, which is maybe the coolest thing ever.

We also squeezed in a brewery tour, and dinner, and of course, more HGTV. See? I’m not kidding about the not being able to sit still thing.

We woke up the next morning completely exhausted and ready for some lower-energy, less-tour-focused beach time and headed out of town… Right after we squeezed in a quick tour of the CNN headquarters, which require a ride on what we assumed to be the most insanely long and claustrophobic escalator in the history of the world. They limit photography on this tour as well, so we took the best photos allowable and swore we wouldn’t buy the overpriced souvenir photos they were offering. Then we did buy them because they were so ridiculous.

At the end of the tour, the guide informed us that the escalator actually did hold the world record for longest elevator in the history of the world, so we weren’t wrong on that one.

I hope you have enjoyed this ever so poorly-written recap, I will continue the hilarity (or mild amusement anyway) tomorrow night in Recap Part 2: The Hurricane.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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