Here in New York, we anxiously prepare for Hurricane Irene to clobber us. In an odd way, I find it exciting. I’m not at work, but am home with my family and if we all survive I can brag about living through history. I’m one of those girls who really enjoys storms, provided I am safely stashed in my house, though my dad says it’s weird that I’m excited about this one. I love thunder, I think lightning bolts are the coolest and blizzards make my day (aside from the one that cancelled my flight home from London last December, but let’s be honest, it wasn’t really a blizzard, London just got their panties in a bunch and couldn’t handle the pressure of two whole inches of snow. Clearly I’m still not over this.).
Anyway, hopefully Irene won’t unleash too much fury. Weather people predicted the Outer Banks (where we vacation in North Carolina) would be completely destroyed, yet it only suffered minimal damage. They’re saying the best case scenario for New York City would be for the storm to hit land and charge up New Jersey. Then her ferocity lessens and doesn’t smash the city so badly. On the other hand, if she swings out to sea first, she’ll collect more water and smack the city harder. So let’s terminate the Jersey Shore phenomenon by ripping the whole state off the country and end the hurricane in the process.
I kid. Very dear friends of mine live in New Jersey, and best case scenario is everyone staying safe throughout this whole fiasco.
So while we’re water-logged, I have decided to make the best of the situation: I had a brilliant idea for a story which I will tomorrow write with fervor. As is consistent with the most brilliant story ideas, it is somewhat based in truth. This one features a twenty-one-year-old red-head who has to miss out on the very first date she ever had due to extreme weather. She’s also struggling with other major changes and stalling in her life. During the storm unearths the true genesis of her warring emotions.
Yes, folks. I have never been on a date before in twenty-one years of my life. Yes, folks. On the only day I was free throughout basically the entire summer I got a date. That day: today, Saturday, August 27, 2011, the one day in the history of New York City that it completely shut down.
When has New York EVER shut down before? Never, that’s when. It’s the god damn city that never sleeps. But it sleeps the day I have a date.
I think God is trying to tell me something.
Nothing I can do about it, thus I must make lemonade from Irene’s freaking lemons. I’ve got a good story out of it, if nothing else. I’ve stocked up on my classic literature and will probably have plenty of time to read. I’m leaning toward my new beauteous copy of This Side of Paradise. Beowulf is a close second with Don Quixote hanging on to third. Will let you know.
Rain’s beginning to come down harder. I’m off to bed.
- East Coast battens down as Hurricane Irene hits (cash-bandit.com)