Nicknames for the “hurricane” that hit NYC last weekend:

  • hurrican’t
  • hurriboring
  • hurrilame
  • hurrifeelstupidwearingthisponcho
  • hurri’mgoingtohavetoreturntheseflashlightstokmart
  • hurrithinkthislooksmoreexcitingontv
  • hurristillhavetogotoworkonmonday

first band

The first band of rain came this morning, but it only lasted an hour or two.

After missing the last uptown six train, I am making the slow trek uptown on the last M103 bus.  It’s surprisingly not crowded.

I’ll be weathering the storm at Fran’s place on the upper east side.  I’ll be there until the subway reopens, whenever that happens.

Saw a few stores boarding up their windows, but beyond that the city seems to be in a state of waiting.  Waiting for whatever this thing ends up being or not being.

The media has become such a sensational fear machine over the past ten years, it’s hard to know whether to believe them now, and I don’t know enough about meterology to make an informed prediction.

Closing the entire mass transit system and ordering a partial evacuation (of Zone A) is unprecedented, and it has given this impending storm significance, for now.

What happens when a hurricane hits NYC?  It seems as if we’re going to find out tonight.  Or not.  Right now it’s just foggy.

probable path

I have never experienced a hurricane, so this better be good.

No pressure, Irene.

last Sunday


      Maniac – Clap Your Hands Say Yeah

soy products

little rubs and disappointments

“There will be little rubs and disappointments everywhere, and we are all apt to expect too much; but then, if one scheme of happiness fails, human nature turns to another; if the first calculation is wrong, we make a second better: we find comfort somewhere.”

–Jane Austen, Mansfield Park

This morning…

This morning it was raining just enough so that if a person had an umbrella they felt compelled to use it, while those of us who had left our umbrellas at home weren’t regretting the decision and were – quite frankly – somewhat annoyed at the people who were clogging up the streets with their unnecessary accouterments.

On my walk from the 34th Street Station to work, I imagined a film in which hundreds of pieces of baggage are falling from the sky in slow-motion.  Or exploding, maybe.  Meant to be taken semiotically.