Thankfully Irene didn’t cause toooooo much damage in NYC. I do feel incredibly bad for those who were affected in more ways than just having an almost leak in the living room.
After half of New York evacuated the city, I’m not exactly sure what happened next. To sum it up, it rained. It was windy. I could smell fear in the air. A stick fell on Jackie’s car. And our lights flickered one time.
As a former dirt-poor disheveled diva, naive to the true power and intensity of the on-coming hurricane, I now share with you
survival tips the endless possibilities on how to attempt to enjoy yourself despite the stormy weather and paranoia over the fact that the end is near.
A DPDD may not become aware of how bad the squall really is, until she sees the line outside of Whole Foods, which extends one block down the street. At this sight, she chuckles to herself, ducks into a corner store, and purchases a pack of gum, because arctic chill breath never goes out of style.
Perhaps she studies the aftermath of previous historical storms via youtube, and fills mind with useful knowledge about the damage they have created.
She could possibly get rather flustered, and allow hysteria to take over her mind, body and soul. She might then marinate on the idea of the storm becoming incredibly dreadful, and she may not come out alive.
Maybe she stocks up on her favorite budget-friendly necessities, including store brand apple juice, store brand cereal, grape leaves and cheap champagne. And in case she gets really hungry, sunflower seeds to be on the safe side.
She then might panic over the idea that this could actually be her last day on planet Earth, and proceed to binge on cupcakes and beer as her “last meal.” Through course of day, she might consume approximately 8 “last meals.”
Perhaps she could come to the conclusion that the process of death should be peaceful and inviting. Admittedly, it has been a fabulous 25 years. She guides herself through a private 30 minute yoga session, to calm her mind before death comes crawling on her doorstep.
She then embraces her last day on Earth, surrounded by fellow dirt-poor disheveled divas, engages in intellectual games such as charades and truth or dare. Topics of discussion include the past, present and future.
She then may or may not embrace Irene with arms wide open, in middle of street, at 6 AM, and jump in puddles to evoke childhood memories, while creating new liberating memories. (In which she felt truly alive and/or trapped inside an angsty teen coming of age film and this specific moment would be filmed with fake water from a rain machine and then played back in slow motion with Arcade Fire on the track). The only thing separating her fantasy from reality was the fact that the rain is really wet. And cold. And now she was drenched.
She then might stay awake until she can’t physically keep her eyes open anymore, to savor her last living moments on this planet.
She then might fall into her death bad as her mind fades to black nothingness. Perhaps she comes to the conclusion that Hell is exceptionally boring.
She could then wake up 10 hours later to realize storm has passed. And she has survived, although now 4 pounds heavier, hungover and smelling of rainwater. Nevertheless, a new day has come.
She then might remain bedridden until dusk, and allow starvation to take over body. Famished and dehydrated, she might even walk to 5-7 different bodegas in attempt to purchase a bagel. After 5-7 strike outs, she could recognize that this is why one is supposed to stock up before a storm.
45 minutes later, she may or may not finally find deli with bread products. She could settle on a stale roll from yesterday, because she’s that starving.
Maybe she’s forced to plead with Cashier Man to accept her debit card for the $1.50 purchase which does not meet their illegal $5 minimum rule. Cashier Man recognizes and relates to her pain, sees the delirium in her eyes, and accepts the debit card.
She then might spend the remaining ‘after math’ day reflecting on how grateful she is to have survived the rain and wind swirl, despite the almost power-outage, the lack of preparation and the deranged thoughts evoked by the tropical bitch.
She then might even Tumble about the experience and realize how pathetic she is. But, she embraces this fact, after experiencing a glimpse into the gateway of Hell. And she continues on living, knowing that life is too short to be lived bored, unhappy, and without adventure or risk.