So I got my comeuppance for my west coast eyeroll at the reaction to Tuesday's earthquake in NY because....HURRICANE! So much end of August excitement here in NYC. Jeez. I stopped after work for groceries, I filled bottles of water, I stood in line at Duane Reade for a few extra packs of batteries. I even silently called dibs on the upended shopping cart that's been discarded in the Ocean Parkway bike path, in case things get all "The Road" and I need to cart my belongings along the eastern seaboard.
You know what I learned about hurricanes? That the waiting for the storm to start part is kind of excruciating. No transportation, Facebook murmurings of pre-hurricane parties I can't get to (terrible, I know), hot and sticky in the apartment, impending DOOM awaiting outside. And yet, I spent most of Saturday looking out the window waiting for it to rain and reading news reports that were freaking me out. And I'm sure my neighbors LOVE the singing. lots of soulful horrible singing as I listen to my entire iTunes library.
I guess I slept through the storm last night, with only an occasional disturbing dream about my windows exploding in my face while I am defenseless and asleep. I looked outside Sunday to see what had happened and people were out jogging. Jogging! I'm not really sure what I expected.
So Kensington, Brooklyn certainly isn't ground zero for Irene, and my thoughts are with the people who have serious trouble in the South (edited to add: and in Philadelphia! oh my!) and people who are without power and experiencing flooding and fallen trees and other damage up here. I'm a very lucky girl, my Irene was boring.