Monday, August 29, 2011

Come on Irene

Oh yes, there were many a Tweet on Twitter on Friday, Saturday & Sunday with the #ComeOnIrene hashtag. It put the 80's song (Come On Eileen) in your head, no?

Anyhoo, I thought I'd take you non-New Yorkers on my Irene Journey. Why? Why the hell not? It's a funny story!

All through this story one MUST remember I have only one good hand. It's a must. It makes it all the funnier. Truuust me. we go...

Friday, August 26, 2011
As previously stated in the last blog entry, I braved the grocery store near my office for items I knew would be gone gone gone at my home store. I packed them up in a big re-useable bag and draaages that heavy bitch home with me.

On my way home I'm thinking of all the things I remember from living in the Carolina's for 10 years...on hurricane prep that is. Not that I was ever IN a bloody hurricane THERE...oooh noooo...but now that I'm up in NYC? Now I'm in one. (What about this seems wrong?) I make mental notes: Get water, buy batteries for radio, find flashlight, get batteries for it too, check candle supply, charge electronics (especially extra cell battery), fill tub with get the picture.

I'm also fretting about walking my dog in blowing rain. Remember? CAST. It's not supposed to get wet. *sigh* Wonderful. least I have my roommate (we'll call her Amy) to help me...........................

I get home to find Amy in a panic, packing her bags, and fleeing town. (Fucking wonderful.) I ask her where is she going to go. To a place out in the country on the CT/VT border, she tells me. I say, "Uh, the storm is heading there too, you know." To which she replies, "But there's less people there." O_o In her defense, she's from a small town, not been here long, her sister lives in Louisiana (can you say "Hurricane Katrina"?) and both her mom & sis have writhed her into a panic where she's going on about the sewer system backing up and no transportation (MTA shut down from Sat at noon till 5am this morning)and millions "trapped" in the city...etc. Panic. Mayhem. Trapped. She's on a roll...face white, pinched and body moving in a jerky fashion. Poor thing. They've pretty much convinced her she's dead if she stays.

So she goes.

Me? I go down to 170th street to buy Meade. (The difference btwn a city girl & a country girl I was told.)----for those who don't know...Meade is a high alcohol Honey Wine. You've possibly had it at a Ren Fair.

I get home and run to the grocery store in my neighborhood for the last things I need. I am still toting the 3 bottles of wine and have no rolly cart. I never said I was smart all the time.

So the place is a madhouse. Shocker. But everyone is patient, nice, and...confused. No one who wortks there is helping prople understand their shitty set up for lines. any other Leo, as i get close enough and figure it out, I start answering questions and directing people. I know I know...typical.

By the time I hobble home with too many bags and put them away, I make dinner (God knows I have enough bloody food now) and read.

Saturday, August 27, 2011
I wake up at 8:15am.

Well hell.

I try to go back to sleep but my brain won't shut's all, "You need to do laundry and go find batteries...which you won't find but you have to try and you need to get water...which will be wicked heavy...How are you going to get that up the stairs? You need to call your dad and do some editing and....are you still laying here? If you don't get to that laundramat before the rest of the womem in your neighborhood you could wait all day just to wash your stuff! What if they close early? Get your fat ass up!!!"

So I did.

With one hand on my cart and the other wrapped in plastic, holding an umbrella (or trying to) I head to do laundry. I call my dad as I sweat to death in that place. You see, I'm my dad's only child. He worries like an old lady. I know he's glued to the damn TV (if he's not, he wants to be) worrying and wondering if I'm in the evacuation area....but he won't call. Oh no. That'd show me he's worried and I'n an adult and blah blah blah. *sigh* I know him. I love him. So I call to quelch his fears.

Once laundry is done it' guessed's POURING.


So here I go again with my plastic covered hand (a plastic grocery bag held on with rubber bands. Oooooh...stylish.) and I bumble along to get the damn cart into the gate and up the stairs. Ugh.

But I'm not done. Now it's "Find Batteries and Water" time. So I go to my remaining roommate to ask for help. She's sleepin (in her defense, she works LATE) and she's pretty much, I'm on my own. I stop at 3 places. No C batteries. Shocker. *sigh* I do find some overly priced small candles in glass though. I buy three. I go to Rite Aid. LINES LINES LINES.

*Deep breath*
Find pack of many water bottles together.
Consider how to get in cart with one hand.
Man walks by. Sees my dilema.
Briskly escapes before I can ask for help.
Try to lift using bad hand. Stop as its not feeling like a wise idea.
A woman goes by, sees my dilemma, and she too runs before I can ask for help.
God give me patience!
Finally I use my one good hand and actually lift the buggering thing into my cart without dropping on myself.
It's a damn miracle.

Thankfully the guy working behind the counter comes around to ring it up and puts it back in my cart. I head home. Oh, did I mention its raining again?

I. Could. Scream.

I stop into a bodega and actally find batteries. MIRACLE! Drag my sweaty ass and my heavy cart home to stare at my stairs. I'm debating called roommate to put on some clothes and help me when a man comes along with his laundry. He sees me. Oh yes...he sees me. Does he offer to help me?


But I corner the bastard and pittifully ask for help...convincing his hemming and hawing by saying "It's just one flight."

He helps. PRAISE GOD.

I get in and fall over onto my bed.

But no rest for the Hurricane weary folks! I need to get the apt ready!

Roommate still asleep.

So I take out the 3 things of garbage (in NYC we have to break up things into 3 bags; blue for glass/metal/plastic, clear for paper/cardboard, & black for other crap)...attempt to wash dishes with one hand (this is harder than you might think), put away laundry and shower.

My roommate THEN gets up and informs me she too is leaving.

Honest to goodness thought at the time: "You have got to be fucking kidding me!"

In her defense, her family lives not far from us and have been bugging her for 24 hrs to come over.

So she goes.

Alas, there I am. Alone. Broken hand. Hurricane coming. Dog to handle on my own. And then icing on the cake....TORNADO WARNING.


*Deeep breath*

Pack a go-bag. Pack dog stuff. Pack computer. Put the stuff in the hall at safest spot for tornado.

Watch the news. Told the worst will be from midnight to 3pm. Doze off. Wake up just after 11pm.

Look at dog.
Look at the clock.
Look outside at seriously blowing rain.
Remember its only gonna get worse.
Look at dog.
Look at the clock.
Look outside.
Put on plastic arm wrap.
Put on swim cap. (I didn't want to sleep with wet hair so stop laughing! Besides, it holds my glasses on. So there? )
Step into outdoor vestibule with dog.
We get to the gate...its REALLY BLOWING...and it'll be worse once I leave the protection of the side of the building. My dog pees briefly and we head to the gate. He looks at the gate but doesn't try to go to it. Instead he turns and looks at me. His eyes say, "Lady, you have GOT to be fucking crazy." I ask him, "Wanna go back in then?" He bolts back for the door to the apartment building.

Gooood boy. Thank you thank you thank you!

The barometric pressure has my injured hand swollen (it couldn't be that I did too much that day...oh no...blame it on the rain...) so I take 2 Motrin PM and pass slap the fuck out.

Sunday, August 28, 2011
Wake up at oh-dark-thirty (possibly 4am?) suuuper groggy from the meds and look outside. Not much wind, not heavy rain. I tell myself it must not be "here" yet. Pass out till 6am. Same view. Same thought. Sleep till 9:30am when my phone buzzes. Neighbor says its stopped raining but she can help with my dog. I scramble up at thr word "help", as I've had NONE till now, and it sprinkles the minute we're out...but she is helping so its easy.

She tells me Irene hit Jersey and then moved east...which means the worst is over. WOOT! We walk the dog and my neighborhood looks like nothing worse than a thunderstorm went through. Not a tree down, no flooding...not even a puddle!

So I busted my behind yestyerday for WHAT exactly.

Sometimes God's humor escapes me.

I leave you with the Come On Irene song someone''ll see.

Tamsin :)

P.S. I'd like to give kudos to NYC officials though. They were on the ball with preparations for the worst. Thankfully they weren't needed everywhere, but to those being wise asses about it? Shut up. They did their job well. If Irene hadn't hit South Jersey and run away to the east, you wouldn't be being so flippant. And to those who did lose power or their homes to flooding. Our prayers are with you.

****Funny Side Note: Where Amy ran hit worse than we did at our apartment. Oh the irony. Makes me smile. :) ****


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