So we left off at 6:30 pm, as I was just returning to my house with Liz and Brian’s dog Holly in the backseat. After a some playtime in the downpour, I shooed them down to the basement. They were still in a frenzy, but I had bigger concerns, like the 500-piece jigsaw puzzle that I had picked up at Goodwill the week before. Yes, you read it right, a fucking puzzle. I was gonna do the SHIT out of that puzzle (awkward). I settled in with a bottle o’ beer and got to work. I worked in silence for over an hour, and then around 8:30 I decided that maybe, just maybe, I should turn on the TV to check out the state of the world around me. BOOP BOOP BOOP- “A tornado warning has been issued for your area.” Fuck that.
Author’s note 2/16/17: Enjoy one of my “vintage” posts, from the time when I purchased this blog URL but never actually consistently wrote. I didn’t have the heart to use the WordPress “Start Over” feature and lose these little time capsules from when I was husbandless and childless and wish now I could tell myself to stop drinking so much beer because post-baby me would have so much trouble losing that beer pooch.
I packed a bag, no lie. I went up to my room and packed a bag as if I was going to spend the rest of my life (night) in my basement. And what did I pack? Movies: the Bourne trilogy and Anchorman. Personal supplies: contact solution/case and toothbrush (I had already had two beers so I forgot to bring down toothpaste). Beers: many. Other: a pitcher of water, my pillow, laptop, phone charger, a flashlight, and candles (OK, tea lights).
I am terrified of tornadoes, for no good reason. I’ve never seen one in real life, I’ve never heard of a real one in my area. I think I just watched The Wizard of Oz too many times in my formative years, followed by an unhealthy obsession with Twister in my tweeny years (oh that Bill Paxton!). Anyway, my unnatural fear lasted for about a half hour until they lifted the warning for my area, but the rain and wind were pretty out of control outside. I spent about 15 minutes in an absolute deluge to check on my drainage (sexy, right?), and after repositioning a giant tarp/trash can/cinderblock arrangement that was very efficiently directing water away from my foundation, I slogged back inside to slog down some more beers.
And so the night went. Beer. Check the sump pump. Beer. Do more of the puzzle. Beer. Check the weather channel. Beer. Finish puzzle. Beer. Greet Liz and Brian at the door and give their dog back. Beer. Midnight pizza grilled cheese*!
At this point (after midnight), I decided it was do or die. The Weather Channel was going for every panic-producing angle they could muster, and apparently we were still 4-6 hours away from the brunt of the storm. Based on the other-worldly amount of rain and tree-banging gusts of wind we had had during the 8-11 pm period, I was a little nervous (and excited) about what the BRUNT might bring. I would stay up to greet this bitch Irene, yes that’s what I’d do! So I fired up Twitter and Facebook, got another beer, and hunkered down for the rest of the night.
Over the course of 12 hours I ended up drinking 8 beers, so I was tipsy enough to enjoy my night but not so drunk that I put myself in harm’s way (that would happen a few weeks later at a friend’s bachelorette party in Atlantic City). Around 6 am when I went to sleep, nothing had FUCKING happened. The so-called “brunt” of the storm was nothing, the worst was definitely that part earlier in the night when tornado warnings caused me to nearly shit myself.
I’m glad it ended that way and that I was lucky and had no water in my basement (tornado shelter). But still, it was a bit of a letdown, especially because I then had to spend my entire Sunday napping to recover from drinking and staying up all night. Anyway, I’ve already gone on long enough, so I’ll leave you with this, a sampling of my tweets and Facebook posts from the evening:
I figure that the extra dozen eggs I bought by accident last week will become excellent barter material in the post-apocalyptic world we’re about to enter. Also, my boyfriend left his car at my house while he’s on a work trip, so I plan on siphoning gas out of his tank in exchange for loaves of bread and/or gold doubloons. (Facebook, 8/26- storm preparedness)
Flipping between My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding and the Weather Channel. Apparently a band of Irish travellers will make landfall after 1 am. (Twitter, 8/27, 10 pm)
I’m drinking beers and all hyped up on storm coverage! Grilled cheese time! (Facebook, 8/27, 11:45 pm)
- @VictoryBeer Awaiting the high waters of #Irene with Headwaters Pale Ale. A whole case was part of my emergency kit! (Twitter, 8/27, 1 am- pretending that brewers care what I say on Twitter)
Cecily Tynan is being a real bitch to her production guy on air right now. She also needs a cheeseburger and a reverse facelift. (Facebook, 8/28, 3:51 am- my mom yelled at me later for using the word “bitch”) (also Cecily Tynan is a local news gal)
- This just in: all northeast media lose collective boner as they realize #Irene is not as devastating as they ‘hoped’ it would be. (Twitter, 8/28, 4:15 am)
- Hurricane nachos! (Facebook, 8/28, 4:29 am- I literally made nachos)
*For the record, pizza grilled cheese is a special style of grilled cheese that I have perfected. You think you know, but you have no idea. You have to get into my inner circle to get the recipe. Or just follow my blog.