And the Bands Played On...

Saturday, I spent the day with my aunt, uncle, and cousins at the Georgia Dome for the Drum Corps International Southeastern Championships (named for the location of the competition rather than the location of the competing corps). This is my cousin Stuart's 2nd season playing with Southwind out of Lexington, KY; he is playing euphonium this year. There are 23 Division I Drum and Bugle Corps througout the country, and all but one participated in Saturday's event. If you have never witnessed one of these shows, I highly recommend it - particularly if you ever competed with a marching band or in other musical competitions. The talent and discipline these kids display from the warm-up to the end of the show is simply unequalled.

The DCI World Championships will take place in a couple of weeks, and the competition will be aired on ESPN2 on Tuesday, September 5 at 8:00 pm EST. I guarantee it will be more exciting than watching the World Series of Poker for the billionth time.

Cousin Stu is also in The Auburn University Marching Band, so I will be looking for him on the field again this fall!

A Birthday in Review

For the nine years I lived in Texas, celebrating family birthdays was usually out of the question. Now the cake and ice cream are only two hours away rather than two days. So last week, I invited my dad and stepmom to come over to Atlanta so we could celebrate my stepmom's birthday. We met for lunch at Canoe, a great place on the Chattahoochee. We also enjoyed shopping and just spending the afternoon together. Then for dinner, we had what proved to be my best meal thus far in this grand city. The Atlanta Fish Market offers incredibly fresh seafood; my cousin joined us for dinner, and the four of us enjoyed delicious plates of halibut, tuna, salmon, and grouper respectively. Everything about the meal was superb. Thanks for giving us a reason to celebrate, Rose!

The Value of a Buck (or Three)

Several years ago, I boycotted Blockbuster Video for life. I returned a video - late, of course - and had to pay a $3 late fee. Since I was the one too lazy to return the video on time, I handed over my $3 without complaint. The clerk said he had been having problems with the computer, but he assured me the money had been credited to my account. A few months later at a different Blockbuster location, I tried to rent a video. The clerk said I owed a late fee of $3. I politely explained that I had already paid the fee at a different store and did not intend to pay it again. He insisted that I had not paid the fee and made it clear that I would not be able to rent any videos until I did. So I made it clear that I would be taking my business elsewhere, and I have never given that company another dime.

Fast forward to today...I needed to do some shopping, so I decided to brave the gargantuan Lenox Mall in Atlanta. I should mention that shopping is not my favorite pastime, and the bigger the mall - the more squeamish I get. I only wanted to go to a couple of my favorite stores - L'Occitane and Papyrus - but I had no idea where they were in the mall. I figured I would have to walk at least a mile once I got inside, and I didn't want to park an additional mile away from the entrance. I was just proud to find an entrance, so I paid $3 to park next to it. I walked right in, found the two stores in the same area of the mall, bought a few things, and left. It was awesome! I would have paid double or triple for such an easy and pleasant shopping experience.

The moral of the story...sometimes three bucks is worth a lot more than three bucks, and sometimes it's not worth squat.

Handy Smurf

I consider myself a fairly independent woman, but one of the things I like about being in a relationship is having someone to help with projects that require more than two hands.

Unfortunately, my husband is out of town, and my cats are of no value on things like this, so I spent the morning measuring, drilling, and climbing the ladder while holding the drill and drill accessories, tape measure, anchors, screws, pencil, etc. in order to finish getting the house decorated.

I was successful on 8 out of 11 attempts; I drilled 2 unnecessary holes in the wall (that I was able to cover up) and broke 1 decorative item. Not great, but 73% is still passing!

Vive le Tour de France!

The Tour de France has solidified its place in history as one of the most exciting sporting events on the planet. What a performance by American Floyd Landis! His sheer determination, strength, athleticism, and guts earned him the coveted maillot jaune on Sunday. It was a spectacular ending to a tour that started in turmoil. Floyd Landis broke away from a disintegrated hip, the shadow of Lance Armstrong, a major doping scandal, and finally, from the Peloton in Stage 17, to ride to victory and claim the grandest prize in the world of cycling.

Feeling inspired, I picked up my bike from the local bike shop today - Intown Bicycles - where they gave her a little tuneup, and went for a ride. It felt great! The brick-paved sidestreet near our house is not quite as spectacular as the cobblestone Champs Elysees, but you gotta start somewhere, right?

On a related but less important note, I thought Michael Rasmussen's polka-dot-clad baby was very cute, but is Robbie McEwen's son really named Ewen McEwen? Poor kid.

"First" Success Story!

So the downside to moving to a new city is that your chances of having a bad "first" experience increase dramatically. Like, the first time you take your clothes to a dry cleaner you've never heard of or the first time you try a restaurant you've never heard of or the first time you make an appointment with a doctor you've never heard of...you get my point.

But I am soooo happy to report that I had a successful "first" today in an area that is super important to me -- my hair! I love getting my hair cut and highlighted, and that experience can make my day if the person does a good job or totally ruin my entire week if they botch it. The first hair cut I got in Austin was a disaster, but it's a chance you have to take when you move.

A few days ago, I walked by a salon in our neighbordhood called Nadine's Triple Crown, so of course I had to check it out (only 2 people in the world will understand why, and I think I'll leave it that way). The place is really cool -- it's both a salon and barber shop, and it's slightly upscale but not at all pretentious. My stylist, Nicki, was great, and she definitely listened to what I wanted. She has some beautiful ink, by the way.

Happy Hair!

The Lost Comments

Well, it didn't take me long to screw up something on the blog! Apparently, I accidentally deleted the first 4 comments. I didn't want to offend anyone this early in the game, so I'm posting them here.

mywtfao: Congratulations on your blog ! It looks "Jazzy" (new term I heard used in Georgia so it must be a good one).

Adrian: Hi, I'm Heidi's friend from Nova Scotia. There may not be a blueberry state but Oxford, Nova Scotia is known as the Wild Blueberry Capital of Canada. Just a quick fact for you. http://www.town.oxford.ns.ca/about.htm

Heidi Mac: Miss you already! Love that photo of you. ;)

mywtfao: The blueberry is the state fruit of Maine, New Jersey and North Carolina. Got that from www.netstate.com in case you want to know.

Meeting the Mail Carrier

I often dream about two of my grandmothers - Nanny and Mama Shipp - who both died a few years ago. I dream about being in their homes again, and unlike most dreams, in which details are completely distorted and images are interchanged with other pieces of my life (real or imagined), my grandmothers' homes always appear in my dreams just as they were in real life. Many of us have vivid and distinct memories of our grandparents' homes - sights, smells, tastes - but it seems the nature of dreams for those memories to be altered in some way. I can't explain why my memory of those two houses is preserved, even in my subconscious mind, but I am grateful for it.

One of the things I remember about Nanny and Grandaddy's house is the avocado-green plastic pitcher they kept in their refrigerator, always filled with ice cold water. On hot summer days, Nanny would pour a big glass of water from the pitcher and offer it to the mail carrier. He would sit out on the patio and visit with my grandparents, drink the water, and then continue on his route.

That memory came flooding back to me today when I looked outside the front window of the house and saw the mail carrier coming up the front steps. For the past several years, our mail has been delivered to an ugly set of metal boxes (not even real mail boxes but more like what you see at the post office) down the street from our house - not exactly the personal service my grandparents had.

I went outside and introduced myself to the mail carrier, Richard. He has been delivering mail in this part of town for over 15 years and really likes the neighborhood, but this is not his usual route. He was filling in for our regular carrier, James, who has also had a route in this neighborhood for over 15 years! I didn't have water to offer him from a green plastic pitcher, but we had a nice conversation anyway.

Just one more reason I love our new neighborhood in Atlanta... I met the mail carrier!

Welcome to the Peach State!

In honor of recently taking up residence in the Peach State, I had fresh peaches for breakfast this morning. (I also had blueberries, but I'm not sure if there is a Blueberry State...seems unlikely).

So now every time you eat a peach, please think of me in Georgia. And if you come to visit, I'll make you a cobbler. :o)