The magic of books

I take full credit for being the first Harry Potter fan in my family.

I borrowed Sorcerer’s Stone from a friend at school in 7th grade and fell in love.  When we visited Granddad that Christmas I randomly wandered into a room, found Chamber of Secrets lying around, and immediately started reading it.  So then we had to go buy a copy of the first one because Monica hadn’t read it yet and obviously she couldn’t start the series with the second book.  She got hooked (you’re welcome), borrowed Prisoner of Azkaban from a friend at school that spring, and let me read it too.  Then we impatiently waited for the new book to be released that summer.

Annual family vacation, summer 2000.  Hot Springs, Arkansas.  I love this picture…

…but I did NOT want to get out of the car!  Goblet of Fire‘s release date was during our vacation, I’d managed to convince Mom to buy it at a store somewhere when we stopped for other things, and I had just found out that Ron had been taken as a hostage in the Second Task!

Even worse was when I had to be dragged away at pretty much any point from the Third Task on.  That might be okay when you’ve read it before and you already know what’s going to happen, but the first time?!?  Like when we checked into a small hotel with an attached restaurant and needed to eat dinner but I was in the middle of the graveyard!  That was not a pleasant meal, haha.  As soon as I could, I escaped back to the book.  My punishment?  No swimming.  Which was perfectly fine with me because who wants to swim anyway Harry is fighting Voldemort and what’s going to happen and how in the world is he going to get out of this one?!?

The rest of the family probably thought I was crazy.  But during our 2003 summer vacation while Mom was reading Order of the Phoenix for the first time (Monica and I insisted she read the books so often that she finally gave in), she got so caught up that when she pulled herself back to the “real world” for her navigation duties she didn’t know what state we were in!

To prepare for the epic finale, we read the entire series out loud in the summer of 2007.  So much FUN!  Usually just one chapter a night, Mom and Monica and I taking turns as the narrator, pausing occasionally to discuss our theories for the seventh book.  (We were somewhere in Half-Blood Prince at the beginning of July, so Monica sped through on her own and was ready for Deathly Hallows as soon as Amazon delivered it, rejoining our nightly reading sessions after she’d finished.)  When Harry hid his potions book, I made the comment that it wouldn’t surprise me if we’d seen other Horcruxes casually thrown in like the locket had been (I felt super smart for noticing its brief appearance in Order of the Phoenix), and I specifically mentioned the “tarnished tiara” and somehow Monica managed to keep a straight face!  Once we finished Half-Blood Prince, we took a break from reading out loud and I jumped straight into Deathly Hallows.  I read it twice on my own, Mom read it after me, and then we returned to our nightly reading sessions.  We finished reading it out loud in late August, just a few days before I headed back to Vandy for the hardest semester of my life (but that’s another story).

So happy birthday, Harry Potter!  Thanks for letting me grow up with you.  And thanks for still giving me something new every time I come back.

The memory floods in

Yesterday was DCI day!

On a Saturday in late July, the best drum corps in the country come together in San Antonio to compete in the DCI Southwestern Championship.  I got pulled into that world thanks to my years in colorguard and fell in love with it (I actually auditioned for Teal Sound in 2005 but ultimately decided not to march because it was my last summer at home before college).  Seeing all the different corps makes me super happy, but there’s something about this particular event that makes it even more special.  I get to watch all these amazing people and think…

“I marched on that field.”

Every time we turn onto 37 and I see the Alamodome rising in the distance, I’m instantly transported back in time to November 2003.  (Yesterday I even got a little teary.)  Junior year of high school, my first year in colorguard, and we made it all the way to the state marching band competition.

Swing flags at the end of “Bolero” (I’m in the middle of the loop)

I wrote so extensively about these events in my journal at the time that I don’t really have much else to say.

November 4, 2003

I will always remember today.

As we drove away last night, I turned around and stared at the Alamodome until it faded from sight, thinking, “Goodbye until next time.  Thanks for the memories.”

I’d stare out at the sea

This was a very foggy day at Acadia National Park in Maine in the summer of 2004 (Dad and I took a side trip while visiting colleges).  I had no idea he’d taken this picture until I found it in his boxes of slides.  And I love it.

Standing on the shore alone.

Staring out at the water.

Waiting for answers.

Trying to see into the distance through overwhelming fog, wondering what it was hiding.

Hands in my pockets holding onto the safe and familiar, knowing very soon I’d have to jump into that fog even if I still couldn’t see where it led.

At the same time, I remember feeling safe in the midst of all the uncertainty.

“Okay, I have no idea what’s coming.  But I’m here.  And right now that’s enough.”

I see a trophy held by me

Baton twirling contests were a huge part of my childhood.  My first one was December 3, 1994, only two days after my eye surgery (I had built-in red eyeshadow)!  My last one was eleven years ago yesterday.

Events included Basic Strut (32 counts of marching in a square), Parade Majorette (32 counts of twirling while marching in a square), Presentation (32 counts of twirling), Solo (a minute and a half of twirling), etc. and the music for all of them is permanently etched in my brain.  I started off just competing in Basic Strut, gradually adding more events over the years until I was competing in almost everything.  There was also the option of “ratings” where you could do routines for judges’ feedback without actually competing.

The trophy in the middle is one of my favorites.  Novice Basic Strut, January 1995.  My first first-place!  The other smaller ones are ratings trophies.

Competition groups were determined by event, level, and age group.  Level was determined by number of first place wins in that particular event.  Over ten years I had a total of 34 wins, qualifying me as advanced in one event (10+ wins), intermediate in two events (5+ wins), and beginner in four events (1+ wins).  Hooray!

There was generally one contest a month from December through July, and at two contests per year (“State” in May or June and “Nationals” in July) the winner in each group went on to compete against the winners in other age groups for a Grand Champion.  I wanted one so badly, but I didn’t get many chances to try because I didn’t win very often…

Then there was the time Monica and I competed together in Pairs.  I was ten and Monica was twelve, so we were actually around the same height haha.  Three pairs competed at State in May 1997, all in the same level and age group.  And WE WON!  We happily collected our first place trophies, not expecting anything more than that since there weren’t any other age groups… so it was with surprise and delight that we were also presented with a Grand Champion trophy!  We got another one at Nationals in July when we were the only pair to compete.

Eight years later as a senior in high school, those were still my only two Grand Champions and I was running out of time.  I won Basic Strut at State that year and figured it was my last shot at my very own Grand Champion… but it went to the winner two age groups below me (a friend from the same dance studio so I was super happy for her, while feeling devastated for myself).

Two months left until my absolute last chance.  I made an extra effort to practice on a regular basis before Nationals, waking up earlier than I normally would during summer so I could work on my more challenging tricks before it got too hot outside.  I entered events in multiple levels to give myself more chances (something I did occasionally anyway, but I really went all-out this time).

Beginner Parade Majorette.  There were two of us.  I dropped the cartwheel (my hardest trick) and she won.  Intermediate Parade Majorette.  There were three of us, including the girl who’d won beginner.  I CAUGHT EVERYTHING and I won!  Then I went on to try for the Grand Champion, competing against the same friend who’d beaten me for the Basic Strut Grand Champion at State.  I dropped a waist wrap (something stupid that I hardly ever dropped) and figured that was it…

BUT I WON!!!

Literally my last chance to win a Grand Champion, and I did it.

What a fabulous trophy to complete my collection from those ten years.

I’ve got a story I’d like to tell

Anyone who knows me (or has seen my car) knows I love Hanson.  But only a few people know the story of how it all started…

It was early 1997 and we’d finally gotten cable.  “MMMBop” and “Where’s the Love” had already caught my ear on the radio, but what really captured my attention was seeing the music videos on MTV and VH1.  They were just regular kids having fun!  To be completely honest, at first I wasn’t entirely sure whether they were girls or boys.  After a few viewings I decided they were really cute boys and the drummer was the cutest (I actually remember making conscious decisions on both counts).  From that point on, I was hooked.

Then October rolled around.  My 11th birthday (four days after Zac’s 12th birthday).  I couldn’t remember ever wanting anything more than I wanted the Hanson CD.  I immediately noticed that the present from my sister was the right shape, but I didn’t fully believe it until I ripped off the wrapping paper and saw Middle of Nowhere staring back at me.  THANK YOU, MONICA!

Is this what I think it is…?

YES! HANSON CD!!!

Fast-forward to Christmas.  Or, more specifically, our church Christmas party.  By that point I’d outgrown sitting on Santa’s lap, but for something this important…  True story: I asked Santa for tickets to a Hanson concert.  Without knowing if/when they were actually going on tour.

So this is kinda awkward…

…but I want tickets to a HANSON CONCERT!

But wait!  There’s more…

When Hanson announced dates for the Albertane Tour the very next summer, I was absolutely devastated that there was nothing in Texas (at least when the first dates were announced).  How would I ever get to see them if they didn’t play anywhere nearby?

Of course, we did take a family vacation every summer…  You’d think with something this important, I’d remember every single little detail, but I’m not even sure anymore whose idea it was.  I think Dad’s?  Anyway, someone looked at the tour dates and noticed one at the Nissan Pavillion in Washington, D.C. on July 2.  We did plenty of other things (visited Boston and Philadelphia, climbed the Statue of Liberty and counted the steps, spent the holiday with family who lived in the area, etc.), but we basically built our vacation around the concert.

And to an obsessed eleven-year-old girl and her thirteen-year-old sister (who was quickly pulled into the obsession too), that’s pretty much the definition of perfect.

Hanson symbol we made in the sand at Cape Cod

The rest is history.  Eighteen years, fifteen concerts, multiple meetings (including one fan club interview), and six studio albums later… Hanson is still my favorite band.  And always will be.