Remember yesterday, when I said my Google machine mentioned a hurricane statement, like a hurricane got behind a podium with papers and a glass of water?
Dang. I guess I didn’t really think it through. I was all, What’s with all the wind and rain?
I put this video (veeeeedeo) on Instagram yesterday with the caption, Everyone knows it’s windy and then I married self in a simple ceremony and I really need to get over that line.
My power went out about 9:30 yesterday morning. And oh, it tried not to go off. I’ve heard from neighbors we are on the same grid as the hospital, so we hardly ever lose power. Who knows if that’s true, although the hospital is refreshingly close by. But the thing happened where there was a click and it got dark, then it clicked back on, then off, and it was a real struggle between good and evil, there. But finally, my whole house went, RRRrrrrrrr. And died.
“Well, I have plenty of power in my laptop,” I smugged, not realizing I had no internet, and therefore could not download, or upload, or send any work via email. And I don’t know if you’ve gleaned that since the pandemic, my workplace is hardly mellow yellow. They aren’t haha! OK! Well, free day off! Haha!
So I had to somehow think of a way to keep working, without driving over there with the germs and trees falling on my head.
Because, yes, trees were falling. That there is a fallen tree from Forest’s cemetery. I’m glad he wasn’t in it. He was, however, just dying to go out. I was all, Are you fekking kidding me? LOOK at it out there, Forest!
He didn’t care. He totally honey badgered the situation. However, I am taller so I prevailed.
Will you hang on a minute? I need to stand up and adjust my robe so it actually covers me. It’s cold this morning. I guess the hurricane blew in the fall.
My phone still had internet, who knows why, but I recently switched plans and it turns out my new plan has no hotspot. A few weeks ago I could have internetted my laptop with my phone. Internetted is a fine word. Also, I remember those few heady months I dated Dick Whitman, he said when choosing dating profiles, any woman who listed Las Vegas as a hotspot was automatically out. Back then, on Match, they had a listing for “favorite hotspots,” which is dumb. I think I said “from my phone” and now we’re full circle lift the baby lion boom.
Eventually I ended up taking a photo of the Word doc I’d fixed and texting it to a coworker, along with a long boring description of what I fixed. The next thing I worked on was blissfully long, so I didn’t have to worry, How Ima get these changes over for many hours. By the time I was done, the power came back on.
So that was yesterday. Oh, I wish you coulda seen the sky. Forest wished the same thing, with his meep! He was totally Helen Hunt in that tornado movie. He was pulling on a little tank top and heading into it all.
My pal Lottie Blanco told me that Helen Hunt movie is a favorite of lesbians because of Helen Hunt’s constant tank top wearage. I had no idea. I can never get past Helen Hunt’s fivehead.
Anyway, the sky. The clouds were in a hurry. They weren’t meandering by as clouds do. They were late for something. I was worried sick about my baby trees but they came through it fine. I have this lineup of little lights on metal poles all along my walkway, and at the end they were all leaning to the left like they were doing a cheer. Lean to the left, lean to the right, stand up, sit down, fight fight fight.
I know there is one person from 6th grade who was on cheerleading with me who sometimes reads this blog and I wonder if she will read it today and be all, Oh my god, lean to the left. And then she’ll picture herself doing it in her black-and-white cheerleading uniform. Our exciting colors were black and white. We had precisely zero black people in our—wait. No. Two. We had precisely two black people in our school: Daphne and Regina. I was friends with Daphne and Regina and I can’t believe I forgot about them. We all traded spend-the-nights at each other’s houses, and at Daphne’s house we found a letter her mom had written some man and we read it out loud. I’m certain her mom would have been delighted to know this. I remember it said she wanted to sit down and work things out. She underlined work things out.
Women are forever thinking you can sit down and work things out, but in my experience with any man, I have never worked anything out with them. In my experience, you talk and you talk and they remain purposely obstuse, or they change the subject, and you end up frustrated and eventually bitter and they say, What do you mean you don’t want to have sex anymore?
That’s my experience.
I hope Daphne’s mom had better luck. I hope she worked things out, underline.
I’d better go. I got groceries yesterday and want to try my new power waffles. I have great hopes for them, much like how I believed Wonder Bread would make me strong because the ads said it would. I would literally eat a piece of Wonder Bread and then say, “Gramma, try to lift me,” and my nice grandmother, not the one I turned into, would make a great show of not being able to pick me up because I had gotten so strong from that white bread and in truth I weighed 17 pounds.
Anyway, if something wonderful happens thanks to my power waffles I will alert you without hesitation.
P.S. I forgot to say that the headache place canceled because hurricane. They blew me off. BAHAHAHAHA. Anyway now I go Tuesday. Unless there’s another natural disaster.