To Atlanta

It's a rainy morning here in North Carolina and I'm drinking some fabulous (expensive) coffee and having a nice bowl of Kashi GoLean, which includes "fiber twigs." Good health, here I come! This should erase the brie and baguette and peanut butter cups I had for dinner last night. Or if not erase, at least beat it down. A related story - after having above mentioned unbalanced dinner, I took Cecilia for a walk down the street and upon returning discovered that my baguette was gone. As Mina seems to have retained her normal weight, we are certain she has hidden it somewhere in the house for later consumption. You know, squirreling things away for the winter. You would think I don't feed her, but I'm certain this instinct is the result of the days that she was known as "Brandy" and lived in a car.

But despite the rain, the missing bread, the fact that I have to go insert C sections into B sections and B sections into A sections, I am in a good mood. Tonight J and I head to Atlanta to see the Pixies in concert. While I was originally not so psyched about this trip, it's grown on me. After all, the Pixies are a great and well-known and important band, even if I don't know all their songs. Anyone I respect musically tells me this. Furthermore I've never been, and although we won't really see the city, we will have the trip there under our belt. Next time it won't be so daunting. "Atlanta?" we'll say. Then hop in the car and go.

But most importantly - adventures are wonderful, whether big or small. Last night I donned a fireman's outfit - the whole thing from big huge pants to jacket to hood to helmet to mask to air tank, and entered a smoke-filled house for thermal imaging training, another perk of my job as a reporter. The smoke was fake, and the boy playing the victim was a healthy teenager, but the experience was still intense. The kind firemen kept asking if I was ok or if I needed a breather from the enclosed, hazy environment. I was sweaty and and my knees hurt from stumbling on them across the uneven floor, but all I could think about was how these people do this in the actual situation - when there is really a fire, they are ready. And so I said, "no" and ventured on, sweeping the thermal camera across the room to identify points of heat, pointing my hose, telling everyone over and over how I just couldn't believe there was this much to it and how much I respected them.

When we return from our journey, I fully intend to write more regularly. Maybe Mina will have produced the stolen loaf. Maybe J will have made another amazing claim, like that he is going into business selling his own hand crafed walking sticks, or that he plans to make his own soda from now on. Whatever the case, funny or serious, the days are full of them, full of adventures.