8AM Monday Morning
Denial and still hungover from Sunday Funday. Receive word that work is cancelled, which I treat as assurance to re activate the snooze button.
Perfect Instagram weather, the streets are becoming desolate and this is just asking for a tilt shift throw-down hashtag “calm before the storm.” Still in denial as this was the same pre-game Irene showed up with.
Announcements of the Holland Tunnel closing and if winds reach 60 mph, the bridges will be shut down. Alright, so if Irene was vodka, Sandy is thus far tequila.
Speaking of Tequila, I can’t endure a Saturday sober, let alone the worst storm since 1880 (ish?) to hit NYC. Luckily we just had an order of green t-shirts delivered, so Snoop Dogg, excuse me, Snoop Lion, would’ve been content staying at our place during this...check that off. It’s Bodega time, as much as I love a Slurpee - bodegas were there for us selling every last 6 pack the city had to offer - oh and water. But let’s be real, in lower Manhattan in an emergency, beer goes quicker than water.
Out of desperation I grab childhood snacks, in the coming days I would bravely trade Whole Foods organic hippie shit for Easy Mac....I don't hate it. Either that or treat this as the Hurricane Cleanse, water, wine and beer - makes the Master Cleanse look like amateur hour, too bad it isn’t bathing suit season.
Regretting laughing and saying “Mom, nothing will happen, I’m in NYC, I don’t need that emergency pack taking up room in my matchbox apartment.” Will be hearing about this until the day I die. Go to Duane Reade and before I could finish my sentence was cut off with “We have no double d batteries or flashlights,” didn’t even think that I would’ve had to buy batteries separately....good to know. Also thinking the 12 pack of glowsticks used during Halloweekend via Sensation/All Mixed Up/Knife Party weren’t completely necessary - then again, those pics will get a lot of likes on The Book....once it’s up and running again. (Note, I did not attend all of these obvs, that'd break my bank). Note to self: Party City sold out of Glow Sticks to prep for Club Sandy faster than the day before Electric Zoo.
On walk back from the DR scene, I'm jostled by a gust of wind that blew my bow out of my hair....noted - bows are not hurricane chic....will get to what is Hurricane Chic momentarily.
Rumors of power going off, decide it’s probably best to download the Red Cross Hurricane app....yes, there’s an app for that. Thinking I will get an alert in the off chance Zone C needs to evacuate - not thinking of the fact 3G would have more traffic that the 405 split and therefore as impenetrable as the 96 Bulls defense.
Where we’re going, there are no roads....or Instagram to let everyone know of the #nychurricane2012. Lights flicker, Titanic style...I never wanted to let go, but like Rose, I had to...good bye lights. Confirmed, Sandy is a reckless, wild tequila whore who has no regard for others.
First thoughts, it’s a pre-caution. Thoughts upon going out in the stairwell to meet the neighbors you never talk to with a freshly bought fall scented Yankee candle - meant for ambiance, not emergency - lights out was no pre-caution but rather necessary due to flooding, maybe an explosion.... here we go. Could be days - re: regretting not taking emergency pack from mom, even though it was all pink.
#Blackoutorgetout theme initiated. If the lights are going blackout style, that is nature’s way of telling me for once I have no control over this blackout - so might as well do what I do best.
3A Tuesday Morning
Expect to be woken up by lights coming back on, I was as disappointed as Lindsay Lohan’s rehab councilor.
Work cancelled. Snooze button activated.
Walk to a street corner to get service on cell phone to upload pics of Instagram to inform that masses (my mom and dad) that I am ok. Expect guys to come out of the woodworks with a slew of texts to confirm my safety - got a text from dad, brother and homecoming date - so there might still be a chance with my junior year love, the silver lining. Weird how concerned and adamant they can be with my safety while wasted at 3AM with consecutive texts saying “where you at?” “cross streets?” “you up?” but no “you alive?” during a natural disaster. I guess my self induced blacked out that occurs every Friday night is a disaster in and of itself.
Out of SpaghettiO’s. Walk the streets in a pullover fleece, leggings and rain boots snapping shots of Sandy’s reckless night (Instagram overload..must find 3G). I’m in search of the substance of a Powerbar and Gatorade....the Gatorade will serve another purpose and discover my inner boy-scout (my inner boy scouts supports gay rights....btw).
Bodega on 23rd and 3rd not only has these vices, but hot coffee. God bless the bodegas. Due to lack of nourishment this was the first time I unacceptably snapped at someone who reached over me for a lid to her coffee while asking for a Splenda.
“I’ll move, I’m almost done.” - said without even a hint of a smile, as if she was trying to take my baby from me.
I then realized the Hurricane was not her fault and turned to her and said
“I’m sorry, I realize the hurricane was not you - I just need to eat this yogurt covered Powerbar....good luck and god speed.”
Venture back to apartment, roommate is not there. Are you afraid of the dark? Does James Brown get down....can I get an oooo yeah. I still sleep with a night light for nights that I don’t have my booze blanket and I'm replaying Lifetime Movie/Dateline Murder specials in my head....let’s be real. Decide this is a good opportunity to assume my hurricane chic wear, strap on a backpack and go uptown to juice the Apple devices. Must. charge. Macbook.
Hurricane Chic....running shoes, but not obvious running shoes, like chill retro sneakers if you will. Jeans, a long sleeved shirt, zip up sweatshirt - Vineyard Vines, A&F (if your 9th grade one still fits you) etc. Vest over this. Hair in that effortless chic pony - but who knows who you might see out there, it’s a free for all.
Walk up to 42nd street, spot a KFC with power, reach a low point when I consider buying a Double Down Snacker in exchange for power, decide to walk to Chase (re who knows who you might see).
Over hear man tell his girlfriend survivor tip:
“We need to find a wine to pair with the gruyere somewhere uptown - it will go bad, and we cannot have it without a good wine.”
I better run home and finish my string cheese, maybe grab a 4 dollar bottle of vino on the way.
Arrive at Chase. Stockholm Syndrome ensues with charging pals. Probably people I would never talk to outside of this situation, but formed a bond with, we’re all in this together.
We talk about college, breakfast sandwiches and the lengths we’ve had to go for them - which turned into a game of one upping...who had the most strenuous trek for a Bacon Egg & Cheese - the guy who climbed 17 floors won (and also won because that climb cancelled out that BEC). We hypothesized having a one night stand the night of the hurricane. You wake up, you’re sober, they’re sober and still there, because they have no where else to go, and you might even have to get to know them.....it’s a stage 5 clinger’s fantasy.
Shout out to Obama for free birth control - or else the population could soar from being cooped up and well...bored.
Charged up start heading downtown. Cross 39th, back to where the streets have no names. Zip up my sweatshirt and vest all the way to the top and start thinking I’m hood. Would’ve cued up “Hard Knock Life” by Jay Z if it was necessary and I wasn’t preserving my phone battery - who are we kidding, it was and I did it....I took that baseline out all the way back to 23rd.
Meet my roommate at apartment. We decide to go eat in midtown, along with the rest of lower Manhattan. Dancing in the streets took on a whole new meaning. People were ravenous for anything other than Bodega food, thirsty for booze and social interaction....we’ve been cooped up for 2 days, this isn’t how we roll.
Had dinner and wine, met some fun bros. Realize we were all at 2AM desperation lows at 9PM given the situation at hand.... and the line “we have power” could’ve gotten me to consider making some poor decisions - by 10P we make an adult choice to go back downtown, leave the bros and their power behind.
Well, before making it all the way down we stop and get more wine....since mass amounts of wine is the adult way to get drunk. #blackoutorgetout
We may not have an emergency pack, but we have board games and we re-discover the magic of Monopoly. We wonder if the Amish are allowed to play Monopoly as that is probably why they live as they do. That game is more entertaining and exciting than watching the Yankees in the 2012 ALCS.
Work is optional, charging and showering is not. In we go. Call Equinox to confirm I can go to a gym other than my home gym, life without Eucalyptus towels and Kiehl’s products is not a life I like to live. Pack a Vera Bradley of essentials and head uptown. Felt since I was using the Nox to shower I had to “work out” so I really pushed myself on the elliptical for 30 minutes before the glory of a hot shower with grapefruit scented body wash.
Head into work. Ghost town, but there is coffee, water and some people to talk to. Go through e mails, everyone I work with is ok. Then, the heavens opened up as I opened tabs on the world wide web....I was like a kid discovering candy for the first time. News sites, Spotify, if there was ever a time for Pinterest boards of inspirational quotes it was now because “A calm sea never made a skilled sailor.” And of course the holy grail, where we spend countless hours looking at other people’s lives we don’t know to validate ours....Facebook (expected more notifications, but it’s ok, it’s not like I’ve been posting tons...so whatever). Plug in my devices to all the plugs I want, not even having to buy a Double Down Snacker.
Found a flashlight in a drawer with extra batteries - Christmas come early.
Go to Chipotle solo with no shame at all. Even have a beer solo because damn it, I’m in survival mode - my body may needs these extra cals.
I’m on corner of 23rd and Park, the only area with service within 5-6 blocks ranting to a friend on UWS about The Walking Dead scenes that are the lifestyle erupting below 39th. You could see the tire in people’s bloodshot eyes, it was like everyone was on a Charlie Sheen style bender at Riff Raff the night before, but really this is what lack of power will do to people - drain the lights, drain the energy. I was among these people and my patience was running thin, back sore from lugging shower supplies uptown, tired from trekking miles (blocks) for food....if this was Survivor, I’d be voted off. At the peak of my rant a hipster on a bike turns around and says:
“Could you keep me out of your personal life, and move over there or something.”
My first thought is she just got into my personal life by choice, and no, I can’t move over there because I don’t get service, but you can pedal that little bike of yours and go write about how horrible I am in your Tumblr. In the end, her hipster glasses offended me as much as my cursing offended her, so I figured we were even, no need for words. She just gave me more things to swear about... “this f-ing little hipster on a bike needs to pedal the f out of my personal life.”
Second realization of irrational behavior, post coffee lid incident.
Arrive home. Yankee Scented candles almost burnt to a crisp. Remember that Gatorade that I said was much more than electrolytes?
Well low and behold, your pro-gay rights boy scout Mel has showed up to the party and created a lantern by placing it upside down on a flashlight.
If nothing else. We’ve learned to make a makeshift lantern, SpaghettiOs are still awesome and my junior year homecoming date still cares, #winning. Obama and Christie are BFFs and will probs be friends on F.Book soon, no doubt liking one another's statuses. Oh and once I’m back on The Gram, we have some double digit #hurricanesandy likes comin our way. We all know a double digit like is a form of respect you cannot ask for. Sure, maybe going out in the middle of the storm to get a pic carrying beer to later hashtag as #bravingthestorm wasn’t the smartest idea at the time...but that hurricane chic outfit wasn’t going to tumblr itself...and the winds made that hair blow Beyonce style.
Speaking of Beyonce....I’m a Survivor.
I was fortunate enough to only lose power and ability to Tweet for a couple days, other people and families were not nearly as fortunate and are still without even the most basic needs, such as food, water and shelter. Mantoloking, NJ, The Rockaways, Staten Island and Breezy Point, Queens are just a few areas that are left in devastation. My heart and and thoughts are with those still fighting this disaster.
Because Down the Shore everything's all right (or it will be):
The Hurricane Sandy New Jersey Relief Fund will soon launch but in the mean time please visit to see what you can do - and remember, helping others scores tons of likes on social media, because it's a great thing to do.... obvs (but hopefully this is more than shaking hands and kissing babies and you're doing it for reasons other than double digit f.book likes).