I’m not sure where to start with all this Sandy business, so I’ll just jump in from the middle and do a bad job of summarizing the last 84 hours or so. From the terror of seeing entire garbage cans flying down our street like leaves, and imagining the giant steel scaffolding rods across the street doing the same and crashing through my children’s windows; to the moment the internet went out and we thought well…that’s that. It’s all felt like less of a fun little snowday adventure and more of a yikes…are we going to be okay? Even now.
I panicked this morning when I realized I was stupid enough to walk out the door without a full cell phone charge.
I can’t tell you how much it means to get so many emails and tweets and texts asking if we’re okay here.
We’ve been luckier than most. We have power and internet–and now we have my mom who had neither and was stuck in Downtown Manhattan until they opened the East River crossings to Brooklyn. Sage puked every hour on the hour on Monday night, but she’s fine–and thank goodness we had running water. As you can imagine.
When we ran out to get flashlight batteries and bottled water, it didn’t cross my mind to also stock up on Pedialyte and sprays that remove the vomit scent from your sheets. And your clothes. And your duvet. And your back up duvet. Lesson learned.
Our car is evidently in 2 feet or so of water in the garage. I’ve been too scared to call to check on it, but may that be the worst of our worries.
Nate is crawling out of his skin watching kid movies for days with schools closed and work closed, and just decided to make the 3 mile walk over the bridge to work for a meeting, what with the subways gone until 2024 or so. My office has been shut down all week, as is everything south of 39th Street. And yes, it’s creating a little 9/11 PTSD anxiety for me. It’s probably a little easier for me being in Brooklyn than back in the West Village.
(By the way, all ye cynical ones: That photo of the brownstone with the facade that collapsed? Not Photoshop. It’s directly across the street from my office.)
I am increasingly unable to think about all the people who have lost homes and lives, up and down the coast, the families that are changed forever. It’s just too raw right now. The second I see a story that starts with “A two year old child faced a tragic..” that’s it. I’m done. Clicking over somewhere with cute cats.
Turns out however, that it’s easier to think about things in the media that annoy you. Like newspapers and TV networks that are reprinting individual’s Instagram photos without crediting them. Didn’t we learn a long time ago that “the internet” is not public domain? And that “©Instagram” is no more acceptable than “©The Newspaper?”
It’s also really easy to get annoyed at Romney and any other politician trying to score points with dumb-ass fake events designed to make them look compassionate, since real compassion seems to be in short supply. As it turns out, Obama is the leader you want in charge in a a crisis and Romney…the guy you want to just get the hell out of the way. (But tell us how you really feel, Liz…)
If you want to help, please don’t collect soup cans in these early days. Please make a cash donation to the red cross for hurricane relief. Even if it’s $5.
On the positive side, look at all the cool things businesses did for New Yorkers stuck without power this week.
photo: scott kolb | via mashable
I love this city.
I guess in the end I may sound rambly and not entirely cohesive with my thoughts, but it all comes down to feeling so lucky to be safe and warm and have food and a roof and my family all here. Yes, I’m tired of us being all cooped up together in this small space, but I’m so grateful we’re together at all. I can’t stop hugging them. Can’t stop.
My hacking cough aside, I’m definitely not feeling ready to head out of the country again next week on a business trip. But that’s another issue for another day.
First we have to get through a night of trick-or-treating.
I’ve got a little Frodo and a little Samwise who are increasingly excited about Reeses Cups and candy corn, respectively. It’s almost like no one puked this week at all.