In the words of CNN.com, my New York life was “forever altered” by hurricane Sandy yesterday.
For the past two days, I have sat in my apartment in Astoria, screaming at the carnage on the television. Right now, I’m not sure if Jesse will ever find out that Hank let his girlfriend die, or how long Gus will let him live. Breaking Bad, you’re breaking my heart!
The lights flickered a few times at the end of season two, which was fucking terrifying. The blogs and the local news knew it, too. All of New York was in a state of panic! A plane crash? Really? THAT’S what the foreshadowing of this entire season was leading up to? A fucking plane crash? Boring! I would rather watch the trees blowing moderately outside my front door! I was so angry that I sat quietly and ate dinner.
We all know that animals are very sensitive to storms, and my pets were no exception. Here they are facing in one direction on the bed:
And here they are one hour later. The wind was so strong, it moved their heads clear in the other direction.
My Facebook wall and text messages were blowing up as people from all over the world asked how I was faring during the plague of frogs. When I mentioned that I had spent the day optimizing photos for a project and watching Netflix, they seemed confused. First of all, isn’t all of New York inside of Times Square? Secondly, weren’t we all on fire? It couldn’t be possible that the local news was focusing on the worst stories for effect, could it?
“What do you think?” asked my friend in Southern California. “Is this what the news is saying? Is this Obama’s Katrina?”
“Nope,” I said. Then I snarled: “Stay out of my territory.”
I’m not saying this hurricane didn’t do anything. People died and houses burned. Our neighbor’s tree tore the sidewalk clean up and almost hit their house. “That’s terrifying,” I thought. “What if someone was storing meth in there?”
Here’s a photo of the actual deli from Marcus’ “Gay Corner Deli Guy” piece. As you can see, there is a God and he does, in fact, hate gay people. He just has bad aim.
Thank you all for your well wishes, people in England on Facebook. I am—we are—hanging in there, safely huddled in our one-bedroom apartment in Astoria, which is located directly inside the Jumbotron in Times Square. Currently, the situation is tenuous. This episode with the fly in the laboratory is so bad I may have to chew my leg off to escape.