I was awake all Friday night and most of Saturday morning watching the storm coverage.
I couldn’t believe that just 24 hrs before, I was expecting my hometown to be washed away or blown to bits by record-breaking winds.
Now this storm was a Category 3 heading into Louisiana.
Fox News had a camera near the water just 2 miles from my mother’s house. Yes, the waves were choppy and the tide high, but I knew we’d be fine. The water gets like that in a big thunderstorm. This would be a piece of cake for us.
Finding words to describe the relief flowing through me is difficult. I was relieved for myself and my family but I couldn’t help but think of those in the path of the storm. Most of them were caught off guard. No one was expecting it to come their way.
Many people evacuated the Houston area and went to East Texas and that part of Louisiana. They might not be prepared.
I prayed they would be ok.
I think I might have slept for a few hours but early Saturday morning, my mother was ready to hit the road.
I kept hearing people on the news telling evacuees to stay put, there was no gas in Houston but Mom had made up her mind. We were going home.
I wasn’t so sure this was a good idea. We both had full tanks but if the roads were anything like they were when we left the Houston area, we might not make it with one tank of gas. What would happen if we couldn’t find any gas between New Braunfels and Houston?
However, Mom mapped out us a route through Texas that never touched a major highway. We were going to take the scenic routes through Texas country.
We loaded up our cars and strapped the dogs in again and headed out of New Braunfels and I admit, I was pleased with our results. We flew along those back roads without a care….for a while.
We stopped in Shiner to take the dogs out and for Mom to grab something to eat.
A local directed us to one of the only fast food joints in town, a chicken place called FryDays.
I still hadn’t had much to eat since Tuesday evening but that’s the difference between my mom and me. I don’t eat a thing when I’m stressed and she eats all the time when she’s stressed.
Without having to leave the dogs in a hot car, Mom ran inside and got some chicken to go and I encouraged her to eat it while we were still there instead of trying to drive and eat at the same time.
While she ate, I grabbed the map and tried (without much success) to figure out where we were and where we were going. I’ve never been very good at reading maps so I finally quit pretending I knew what I was doing and folded the thing back up and offered to throw Mom’s empty food container away.
I walked up to the trash receptacles at the front of the restaurant and a large, dirty man with black teeth stopped me.
“Saw ya lookin at the map. You lost?”
“No, Sir. I was just trying to find the best route back home.”
“Where ya from?” he asked, displaying his rotting teeth proudly.
“Galveston.” I answered. “We were thinking of taking Alt. 90 to 36 and then to Hwy 6. Do you think that’s a good idea?”
I was greeted with a few moments of silence as the wheels in his head whirred.
“I saw some buildins on ‘far’ on the Tee Vee in Galveston.”
I stared for a moment and realized that his parents were probably brother and sister.
“Thank you.” I smiled and I walked away.
On Alt 90, just past Rock Island, we encountered a traffic jam. We sat there for nearly an hour and didn’t even move 100 yards.
My gas gauge was at half a tank. Zoe and Crash were whining incessantly and I didn’t have sedatives for them for the trip back.
I didn’t know how long we would sit there and I started to panic.
I wanted to turn around and go back to New Braunfels and wait until traffic and gas stations returned to normal. I didn’t want to get stuck out in the heat with my 3 dogs and cat on some obscure country back road.
I tried to call my mom on the cell phone to tell her this but, of course, the cell service we pay out the ass for every month, wasn’t working. I kept getting a busy signal.
I tried deep breathing, I tried playing soothing music, I tried to think of other things but the tightness in my chest increased and breathing was becoming increasingly difficult.
Finally, I was sobbing hysterically, trying to take in deep breathes but only getting loud wheezing sounds. I felt like my heart was going to burst out of my chest and I was going to die.
I kept thinking, “We’re going to run out of gas. We’re going to run out of gas.”
I also couldn't help but think that something bad would happen, somehow. We were too lucky up to this point. There had to be SOMETHING horrible waiting for us. To make matters worse, sister #2 (who had stayed behind in New Braunfels) called to find out where we were and how the roads were looking. When I told her we were stuck on Alt 90 with only half a tank of gas, she kept saying “Just turn around and come back! It’s stupid to be out on the road now!”
I agreed but when I tried to call my Mom, I couldn’t get through. Each time I dialed her number and got a recording or a busy signal, I would get more and more hysterical. I guess the dogs were picking up on my panic because the more I cried, the more they cried and the more they cried, the more panicked I would get.
I’ve only had a few panic attacks in my life but they are real and I truly feel as if I’m going to die.
I only wanted to get back to a comfortable hotel room and wait this nightmare out.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, my call got through to Mom and I was sobbing on the phone begging her to turn around so we could go back.
At that very moment, traffic started moving.
She assured me that we were too close to home to turn around and go back but she had been looking at the map and found another route for us to take.
In soothing motherly tones, she told me we were getting close to El Campo and that we’d stop there, find a place for gas, walk the dogs and regroup. If I felt like we couldn’t go on, she was sure we could find a place to stay the night in town but I was only feeling this way because I haven’t slept or eaten in days.
Her soothing call and the fact that we were actually MOVING on the road was calming.
We did get to El Campo, we did find gas and we were able to walk the dogs. I felt much better.
While at the extremely crowded Shell station in El Campo, a man approached my mother and asked, “Where are you from?”
She told him and asked, “How about you?”
“Across the street.” He said and pointed. “I just thought I’d come over here and talk to people. Who knows? I might find myself a wife.”
I jumped into my car before my mom could point out that I was single.
The rest of the trip was great. We went right through El Campo, hit 59 and even found the perfect spot in which to take the dogs out.
It was at some fair grounds and there were picnic tables and lots of grass. We let them off the leash and they explored and peed on everything.
I felt SO much better. I knew we’d get home now.
We made a plan to first stop at my apartments, check them out, then stop at each sister’s house, check them out for damage and then stop finally at Mom’s house.
As soon as I turned on my street, I could see the roof of my apartment building. It was intact. I pulled into the parking lot and saw my bedroom window, it was in one piece.
My home was fine!
I was damn near giddy with relief and I thanked God profusely.
I even had electricity so I dropped the dogs and cat off with food and we headed back out to inspect houses.
Everyone’s home was fine, no major damage except for a fence or two. No big deal.
Mom’s house was perfect. She never lost power and her internet and cable were still working.
Suddenly, I felt hungry and Mom made me a tuna salad sandwich. That was the best fucking sandwich I’ve ever eaten!
Driving through town was a surreal experience. There were very few people there. I’m sure on Saturday 85% of the city were still gone. It was like a ghost town.
We were so lucky; so much more fortunate than so many others.
Why were we spared? I don’t know but I’m not taking it for granted.
I will take those days off and clean my apartment like I promised. I just never said I’d do it SOON.
Right before we pulled into the over-crowded Whataburger in Sealy, Crash started whining really urgently and trying to climb onto the window. This was odd behavior and I watched him, wondering what was going on. Then I saw it: The Squat. Crash had to poop. I grabbed a potty training pad and while driving a busy highway with one hand, I used my other to follow his ass around the seat to catch the poop. He was a good dog and pooped right in the pad.
I was thankful for that except I knew right then that my new car smell was shot. New Car Smell was replaced with Old Dog Shit.
When we left the Whataburger, we worked our way onto I-10. It was still early enough in the evacuation process that I-10 wasn’t a parking lot….yet.
It was slow moving but it was moving.
At some point during the trek, my nephew radioed me on the walkie talkie and said “Just imagine DeDe, if we were going to New Braunfels on a normal trip, we’d still be 3 hrs away.” We had now been on the road for 7 hours. I felt sick.
It was starting to get dark and my gas gauge was falling below half a tank. After all the warnings about gas shortages in Houston, I felt a little nervous. Crash also needed to poop again (it’s the medicine he’s taking for Cushing’s Disease). Once again, I performed my magic trick of holding the pad under him while he squatted and aimed.
This time it wasn’t as successful and his dog bed got dirty.
I decided it was time to pull off and take a break, walk the dogs, get some gas and for me to pee after several hours of holding it.
I called sister #2 on the radio but they were too far ahead and communication was spotty at best.
I could hear my nephew trying to answer but it was mostly static.
I flashed my lights at my mother and put on my blinker to signal to her to exit off the highway.
I yelled into the radio several times “We are stopping in Flatonia. I repeat. We are stopping in Flatonia.” (Later, my nephew will swear that I was saying “We are stopping at Tony’s for pancakes! I repeat. We are stopping at Tony’s for pancakes!”)
I figured they were long gone but it was ok. We all knew our way to New Braunfels by this time.
We had a much-needed break at a Shell station in Flatonia. We had lots of grass to walk the dogs, I was able to give them food and water, clean up the shit in the car, go to the bathroom myself and wash my hands within an inch of their lives and grab some snacks and a Dr. Pepper.
I didn’t feel quite so hysterical now and we made the trip to the motel without incident.
During this entire melee, I stayed calm on the outside. Inside, I wanted to scream and cry and beg God to spare us.
I prayed to God to save our homes and the lives of so many people but in order to ask God to save us, I was asking God to kill and destroy the homes of others. How could I do that? I’m not that selfish or heartless, am I?
From everything they were saying on the news and the meteorologist screaming “We’re all gonna die!” every time we turned on the TV, I knew it would take a miracle to keep us all safe. I didn’t think I believed in that kind of miracle. I sure wasn’t going to count on it.
My mom and I were super relieved to get to the motel but my heart fell a little when I realized that we were both on the 2nd floor. I live on the 2nd floor so it really doesn’t bother me but my mother doesn’t do well with stairs and I couldn’t stand the thought of her taking those stairs several times a day to let the dogs go potty so I knew it would fall to me.
I unloaded both of our cars starting with all 6 dogs and the cat and only unloading the suitcases and things we’d need in our rooms.
I then found a Walgreens close by to get litter for the cat and some supplies I figured we would need.
By this time it was 1 am, I was sweaty and filthy and tired beyond belief. I took the hottest shower I could stand and got into bed.
Sleep wasn’t even in the cards. How could I possibly close my eyes and sleep when my world was about to be destroyed?
I also hadn’t eaten since the night before but the thought of food sent my stomach into cartwheels.
This was when I cried. Alone in my motel room, surrounded by my confused dogs and my meager belongings, I cried in fear. What if everything I own will now fit into the trunk of my car? What if everything I thought was important to me will be gone in a few days?
What will my mom do when her house is reduced to rubble or washed right off its foundation?
Where will we go?
At 1am, my mom and I were safely in our rooms, sister #2 was tucked into a bed at her sister in law’s house but sisters #1, #3 and #4 were still on the road.
By morning, #3 had been on the road for 20 hrs and was still in Conroe. We couldn’t get in touch with #1 and #4. My mom was nervous.
You see, those cell phones we all carry with us for convenience and for safety were useless. Everyone was using their cell phones until the circuits overloaded and calls just couldn’t get through.
I would be driving directly behind my mother and sister and my calls would be met with a busy signal or a recording.
There were times when I felt like we were in a communication blackout. It was frustrating and horrifying at the same time.
The next day was filled with me taking 6 dogs out, 2 at a time, sitting in the room, refusing to watch anything on Hurricane Rita, running little errands for my mother and not eating.
We found out on this day that our motel was kicking us out after Friday. They didn’t have any available reservations and even though we had money to pay and we were already in our rooms, we were being forced to leave.
We called every motel in New Braunfels and the surrounding areas but there was nothing.
I wanted to curl up into a ball and just fade away. Things were going from bad to worse.
Then sister #2 called. Her brother-in-law and his family were on the road for 28 hrs and only got about 45 mins away from home. Their dog died in the car and they had had enough. They turned around and went back home to take their chances against the storm.
Their reservations at another resort hotel in New Braunfels were now available. We called and had them changed to our names but by Friday morning, our own motel had cancellations from people like them who just turned around and went back home after 20+ hrs on the road.
We could stay where we were.
On Friday morning, I finally allowed myself to watch a little coverage of the storm. It was a miracle! It had been downgraded to a low Cat 4 and it made a sharp turn to the north…it was now projected to hit northeast of us. This was amazing news for my area! Even if a bad storm hit, as long as it was on the right side of us, we would survive it.
I had hope now. I just might have that miracle I was afraid to count on before.
All day Friday, we watched the storm lessen in strength and continue to move northeast.
I kept saying, “How did we get so lucky? I can’t believe this!”
I promised myself that if my apartment was still standing when I got home, that I’d take 3 days off of work and clean it from top to bottom.
My sister felt the need to mention that it must be pretty bad if it was going to take 3 days. But whatever, I would still have a messy apartment to return to and I was happy about that.
Sometime on Friday, sister #3 had made it to her destination in Arlington after 35 hrs but we had still not heard from sister #1.
Sister #1 is an extreme animal lover. She fosters homeless cats and before the storm hit, she had 21 cats in her care.
She also has 4 dogs of her own.
She crated the cats and loaded up her Explorer while suitcases and boxes of belongings, as well as the dogs were in her husband’s truck ahead of her on the road.
We couldn’t imagine what became of them. The news showed unimaginable horrors on the evacuation routes out of Houston. We prayed to God that sister #1 wasn’t one of them.
Friday evening, before the storm hit, we finally got a call from her husband.
17 hours into their trip, sister #1’s Explorer died.
On Wednesday in the hottest part of the day, it was 104 degrees. She was out on the side of the road, with 21 cats in the extreme heat, trying to unload the truck and load the cats into the truck, then load their belongings into the Explorer. She left it on the side of the road and they continued on their way.
However, the cats were getting overheated and started screaming in agony. The sound of their misery echoed in her head and nearly drove her mad with helplessness.
Her husband’s ex-wife lived just north of Houston so they took the cats to her house, begged her to keep them and headed out of town to their final destination. At least they were safe.
Sister #4 at some point, made it to San Antonio after 20+ hours, safe and sound.
The lesson we learned so far? We’ll always stay together. There will be no more “every man for himself” shit. Mom wants all her chicks under her wing during times of crisis.
On Monday, September 19, Rita was looking like a big bitch with her eye on the Galveston area.
I don’t ever remember feeling this uneasy about a storm before. I don’t know if it was because of Katrina, because of the intense mood of drama the media was spinning or if it was because this was a real threat.
I tried to talk to my family about a plan by emailing them and asking, “What should we do?”
I got a basic, “It’s every man for himself.” response.
I started looking around the internet for hotels/motels that took animals or even lake-side cabins or campgrounds.
It’s tough with 3 dogs but I knew where ever I went, I’d have my mother with me and she has 3 dogs herself. Her dogs aren’t leash trained like mine. She has a doggy door and her dogs come and go as they please. My dogs are on a strict potty schedule and expect leashes and collars at all times outside.
This was going to be a challenge.
Most motels that accept pets advertised that they only accept one pet. I kept looking.
Monday night, I decided after work that I would go to Wal-mart and grab some water and supplies thinking I would be the quick thinker and get there before everyone else went crazy and started buying it all up.
I was wrong. When I pulled up into the parking lot, people were running in and out of the store at break-neck speeds with baskets overflowing with cases of water, batteries and Rubbermaid boxes.
Shit! I wasn’t so smooth after all.
I got caught up in the panic at Wal-mart. I found myself grabbing shit left and right. I was elbowing elderly women for the last cases of water and then buying strange items like Cheetos and bubble wrap.
I went home and started packing things I would take with me in case of an evacuation like my books and my pictures.
I had two huge Rubbermaid boxes full of books and it didn’t even make a dent in my collection. I was in trouble here.
So, I had to weed down what I felt like I couldn’t live without and what had to stay behind. It was difficult. I knew all the pictures had to go, especially the ones of my father and my nephew.
With those big things packed, I knew I would be ready to go if we had to.
By Tuesday, September 20, the powers that be at work were meeting and things weren’t looking so promising.
I work for a city government and they were preparing for a major disaster. They allowed department heads to release their employees at anytime. My boss asked that I stay until the end of the work day and I did so I could move all computers and monitors in the building to a somewhat safe location.
What an odd feeling. I was packing up my personal items to take with me and I turned around to scan the now nearly empty space around my desk. I might never see this again.
I left there and went to my mother’s house to plan an evacuation. I heard from one of my sisters that Mom’s plan was to get in the car and drive until she found a place to stay.
Is she out of her mind? I was devastated. This is a stressful event as it is and now we didn’t even have a plan?
I found out that sister #2 was going to her sister-in-law’s house in New Braunfels and a friend of ours was staying in a motel in New Braunfels as well. I called that motel and found two rooms. I just never mentioned that we had 6 dogs and one cat between us.
By Tuesday night, sister #3 said she wasn’t going anywhere. Her husband wasn’t handling the stress that well and she was very pissed at him so out of spite, she was staying to let the hurricane blow them both away.
Luckily, by the next morning, she has changed her mind.
Tuesday night, with a plan in mind, I went home to pack all I could.
I have a small car and I couldn’t get much in there so wheedling down my personal items to what I couldn’t live without and what I had to leave behind became the theme of the night.
I had so many sentimental items; artwork I had been collecting for 20 years, my grandmother’s antiques, furniture, DVD players and TVs and books…TONS AND TONS of books.
How could I live without being surrounded by the written word?
I have about 50 purses, many of them quite expensive. There wasn’t room for all of them.
At 2am, I finished packing my car.
I made up a tote bag full of items just for the dogs; treats, bones, toys, bowls for food, bottles of water, potty pads, wipes, collars and leashes.
I also purchased cheap leashes and tied them around the head rests in the back seat as a make-shift restraint system. I left enough slack so they could lie down but couldn’t move around the backseat or jump into the front seat like they often enjoy doing.
I was pretty proud of myself for coming up with that little gem.
I also lined the back seat with their doggy day beds I purchased at Old Navy years ago. They are soft and quilted and lined with terry cloth. The dogs love them.
I knew this was going to be a stressful trip so I wanted them to be as comfortable as possible.
I tried to sleep that night but I kept laying there thinking about what I might have missed and what I WOULD miss if Rita hit us directly at the speeds they were predicting.
Long ago my dad said that if a Category 5 hit Texas City, the storm surge would flood us all the way to South Houston.
I believed him.
If a Category 4 or 5 made a direct hit to Galveston/Texas City, there would be nothing left of us. We would come home to matchsticks.
It was a terrifying thought.
I “woke up” around 6am and started moving things from my porch and patio into the house.
I called my mom around 7am and she had just gotten up and was having her coffee. She sounded relaxed. I asked her what all she needed to do before we could leave at noon. She mentioned packing some of her antiques and a few original paintings.
She asked if I could come over later to help.
I showered, packed the last of my things and loaded the dogs up in the car with plans to come by on the way out of town and pick up Hemingway, the cat.
I hit my mom’s house at 10am and found her in the kitchen sautéing some onions.
“What are you doing??” I asked incredulously.
“I didn’t want this meat to go back so I’m making a casserole to take to Friend’s house.”
Our Friend just lost her husband and the funeral was supposed to be on Wednesday but things were being postponed due to the evacuation.
I couldn’t believe that two hours before we were to flee for our lives, my mother was making a fucking casserole.
Her antiques weren’t packed nor were her suitcases.
I grabbed the bubble wrap and started packing up her glassware antiques; I pulled her suitcases out of the closet and got them ready for her to pack.
I then had to call my vet to get him to prescribe me sedatives for Zoe. She is a basket case on a normal day and I knew she’d need all the sedating we could get. Hoping Mom would continue packing, I ran to the vet’s office and that place was a madhouse. There were many like me, getting sedatives but mostly there were people getting last minute vaccinations incase they had to board their animals.
I ran back to my mom’s and she was dragging her feet. It was now after 11am and she hadn’t even showered yet.
I rushed her into the shower and finished packing her and loading her car. We also decided to take Dad with us. Dad now resides in a small oak box and he fit perfectly in the back floorboard of the car. He was in for an interested ride.
At noon, after shoving a sedative down Zoe’s throat and then doing the same for Crash when I realized he was super nervous too, we were on the road. As I drove down the main road through town, I noticed the two huge car dealers had shipped all of their cars away so now there were only empty showrooms and bare concrete. It was an eerie site and I felt a little bit of hysteria building up inside.
The roads were busy but we felt fairly confident in our route. We were going to try to stay off major highways for the bulk of the trip. I was relieved with that decision when we passed under I-45 and saw bumper to bumper traffic.
We hit Hwy 6 and planned on taking that to I-35. It didn’t take long to run into gridlock. I don’t know how long we sat there; it was early in the trip so I was still feeling optimistic.
We hit Business 35 and took a country road to 36. We weren’t the only ones with that bright idea. We sat on the country road staring at cotton fields for about 3 or 4 hours moving only a few miles every half hour or so.
My feelings were so mixed. I was relieved we were on our way out of the danger zone but I was anxious about the traffic. I felt a bubble of panic trying to work its way out when I would think of this devastating storm breaking apart our homes and washing away the contents.
I kept classical music going in the car to calm the dogs and myself but my sister #2 would call on the walkie talkie to tell me the latest news on Rita.
Each time she would say “Rita’s now a Cat 4 with winds at 150mph. headed right for Galveston Island. All wooden structures will be wiped out.” I’d feel that bubble rising.
A few minutes later she would call to say “It’s now a Cat 5. Nothing will be left but matchsticks and rubble.” I nearly doubled over in pain and agony.
To distract myself, I allowed myself to form a relationship with the man behind me. We shared the same road space for nearly 4 hours and would make eye contact through my rearview mirror at times.
I felt we had something special and I guess he did too because when we became mobile, he would fight tooth and nail to keep any cars from getting between us. Even if we got up to fast speeds and someone did get between us, he would speed up and cut people off to maintain his spot right behind me.
I felt like he wanted to take care of me and watch over me.
However, I was heartbroken when we stopped in Sealy to give the dogs a potty break and he kept going. I guess we were growing apart.
***If you were traveling down 1462 and 36 towards I-10 on Wednesday in a white Ford pick up, possibly early 90s model and you were behind a black Toyota with a pink daisy decal on the back window. Email me. We might have a future. ***
Stopping in Sealy was a disaster. We made sure to stop somewhere on the right so we could merge back into traffic easily. Everyone else had the same idea. A Whataburger offered us a bathroom break and a triangle of grass to allow the dogs to relieve themselves.
There were about 200 people driving through that area at the same time we were. We were all refugees, going in the same direction to save our own lives yet no one made eye contact and no one spoke. We were living the same nightmare but we weren’t doing it as one. We were islands in our fear and despair.
or something like normal.
I'm back at work and there is a feeling of both trauma and relief in the air.
90% of us in this area evacuated and most of us have a similar story of horror.
I want to share it with you but it's too close right now. Those moments of terror, those moments of despair are all jumbled together and I can't seem to organize my thoughts well enough to tell the story.
I will soon, though.
I can't fucking believe it.
I'm home and I have a home to come back to.
When we fled the Gulf Coast because a monster hurricane was on it's way, eyeing my hometown, I left knowing I might never return or if I did, I would return to matchsticks instead of buildings.
The evacuation was a nightmare. An absolute nightmare but the return home was mostly a breeze. We went against the iron fist of the law and got in our cars and returned to town.
Screw them. They're the ones who told us to get out and then left us stranded on highways for 20 hrs.
Anyway, I have lots to blog about but I'm dead meat right now.
Thanks to 'SkarTisu' for keeping my blog up to date and for calling and checking on me and comforting me when I was approaching the beautiful state of hysteria.
I'll blog more later.
Good news for De and her kin. The hotel they're in had other people cancel their reservations, so now they can stay there for the rest of the storm. They'd found another place to go nearby if they needed to, but now that's moot. They're all shaken from the drama, but they're safe. The only question that remains is where will Rita hit. As of right now, the eye looks like it's going to hit just the other side of the shipping channel from Houston, which might not be far enough away to prevent big damage. There's still some time for the storm to turn a little more though.
If you'd cross your toes as well as your fingers, we'd appreciate it.
De's family all made it out of town and are safely away from the extreme danger zone. They're looking for another place to go since their hotel reservation was only through tonight. Keep those fingers crossed, please!
Hi everyone,
De asked me to be her guest blogger while she moves inland to avoid Hurricane Rita. I'm The Guy Formerly Known as M for you long time readers.
De's family found places to go in a town called New Braunfels, about 45 minutes east of San Antonio. Some of them will be in the Rodeway Inn in town, others have friends to stay with, but they'll all be near each other. Everyone except De's brother-in-law will be leaving town. Her brother-in-law is required to stay because of his job, but he'll have sturdy shelter to be in while the storm goes through.
The family should be in New Braunfels this evening. They're packing as I write this. I'll be updating the blog with news as I get it from De. I'm sure they'll be fine.
Watching the storm track this morning, it's continuing to be moved further south of the Houston area, which is somewhat relieving. Regardless, they're going to at least get wet.
If you haven't gone to the gas station yet, make sure you do so today. If Rita hits Houston, the refineries that process 25% of the nation's gasoline will be damaged, which is all the excuse the oil companies need to start gouging again. If you have a couple of grand laying around with nothing to do, now would be a good time to get into petroleum futures as well.
Please keep them all in your thoughts. This is a trying time for them.
Thanks!
It's early yet but if we've learned anything from Hurricane Katrina, we know to make plans ahead of time and more importantly, get the hell out.
There is a problem. Where to go?
My family has pets. Lots of pets. We're looking for cottages, cabins, campground facilities...anywhere.
Motel 6 and Red Roof Inns promotes that they accept ONE pet per room. I, alone, have 3 dogs.
As of this morning, every place we call is booked. It's a scary thought, not finding a place to stay to save our own lives.
Just as scary is the thought that the things I leave behind might not be there when I return.
I don't have room in my car for all the shit I've collected in my 33 years of life and the idea of all of that being gone in one fell swoop is extremely depressing.
My boss is at a storm meeting as I write this. As of yesterday, they weren't releasing us until after the work day on Thursday. Bullshit. Can you imagine how bad the traffic will be less than 24 hrs before the hurricane is scheduled to make landfall?
Screw the job, I'm leaving when my family does.
This is making me sweat a little.
That 5 day forecast has that last little H hitting a little too close to home.
I will be evacuating if they tell me Rita's headed my way.
I might stay for a Catagory 2 but 3 or higher, my ass is OUT of here.
I've never believed that weather disasters are God's way of punishing people but if he were really after the people in New Orleans and then most of them came OUR way, would he send another hurricane to finish them off? I'm just sayin...
I haven't linked one of my favorite guys in a long time but today, Geoffrey's written a post you have to read.
He's asking the questions the liberals seem too chicken shit to ask themselves.
I was a little sick most of the weekend and didn't even make it to work on Monday.
I slept most of the day on Monday and had one of the most disturbing dreams that seemed to go on for hours.
I was saved from further dream torture by a phone call, thank goodness.
I don't understand the purpose of a dream so horrible and so disturbing.
It haunted me all that day and still does today.
Why do we have dreams like that? Are they trying to tell us something?
I've had good dreams. I've had odd dreams. I've had awesome sex dreams....but to have a dream that has me wondering what the hell kind of weird shit is going on in my subconscious is frightening.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Now, this is completely separate from the really bad dream...
I had two different dreams that involved a blogger that I read regularly. I've never chatted with this blogger, I've never even commented on his site. As far as I know, he's never even visited MY blog but he showed up in TWO different dreams on two different nights.
It wasn't a sex dream so you can get your filthy minds out of the gutter right this minute.
But why, when I have LOTS of regular people in my life, would I dream about someone I don't even know?
Dreams are so bizarre.
A childhood landmark....gone.
What child who grew up in this area doesn't have fond memories of Astroworld?
I have my own personal memories of the park.
My best friend and I "enjoyed" a day at the park in the rain.
I don't know why we thought it would be fun to run around in the pouring rain but after a few hours of being soaking wet, it wasn't fun anymore.
I remember how bad my feet hurt after walking around in wet shoes and socks. We eventually went into the bathroom and took turns stripping in a bathroom stall and we would dry the other's clothes under the hand dryer. We were ingenius little fuckers.
Ahh....the memories.
PS: We DID have fun there sometimes.
For those of you who blame Bush for the catastrophe in New Orleans, please, for the love of God, read this.
Credit goes to Acidman for posting the link.
It's been 105 years since the 1900 Storm that ended the opulence that once was Galveston Island.
Hurricane Katrina will now displace the 1900 Storm as the most devasting in US history but for those of us who live in this area, the stories of that storm still haunt us.
Read more at the Galveston Count Daily News and 1900storm.com.
Can you please tell me why, in these horrible times where people have either lost their lives, their loved ones, their homes or all of the above, am I so bothered by the act of one insignificant human?
When I do something wrong, I can admit it and apologize or I can at least admit it to myself and try to learn from it and move on.
When I am treated as if I've done something wrong when in fact I haven't done a thing, I can't help but be baffled and extremely bothered by it.
I can't even stand to watch movies where the main character is accused of doing something he didn't do and no one will believe him.
So, how do you think I would handle it when I, myself, is wrongly accused?
Of course, I'm not over here flying off the deep end or ranting and raving 24/7 but this is my little blog and this is my little rant.
I'll be over all of this in about 30 minutes but for now, my insatiable curiousity has me wondering, "why?".
Don't I deserve an explanation or to know what exactly it was I've done wrong?
Doesn't everyone?
It was certainly a busy weekend.
Someone decided to set up a Red Cross shelter at a local church here in town. It happened to be my mother's church.
The decision was made at around 2pm and by the time I got there a little after 6pm, the place was packed with donations of clothes, shoes, bedding, toiletries, children's toys and books, and food...lots and lots of food.
In 4 short hours, the place was overwhelmed with supplies. It was mind blowing.
The volunteers were braced for 200 evacuees headed our way but after a few hours, we found out they were diverted to another shelter along the way.
But that was ok, I knew more would come and they did.
What I found amazing was that no one took more than they needed. Toiletries were sorted into bags with with a toothbrush, toothpaste, a bar of soap, a comb, a stick of deodorant, etc...
However, if someone just needed a tube of toothpaste, they wouldn't take the whole bag.
There were thousands of articles of clothing and one person could have replaced an entire wardrobe but they would only take one or two shirts.
Of course, there was that one guy who rolled up in a Lexus with Texas plates asking for one of "those gas cards I heard about on the TV". He was turned away.
I was exhausted when I got home Friday night and very depressed from listening to the stories and watching the news and just KNOWING of the horrors that people were going through as I drove home in the air-conditioned luxury of my car.
I drug my ass up the stairs to my apartment and waiting for me at my doorstep was a box with that familiar Amazon logo emblazoned on the side.
"I didn't order anything from Amazon!"
I opened it inside and found a copy of
Edith Wharton's House of Mirth and a brand new DRY copy of
Czeslaw Milosz' Collected Poems.
I recognized these titles from my Amazon wishlist.
Someone, out of the blue, sent me a gift. Who was the benevolent stalker person? Why, it's the original J-Snooze!
Thank you Jimmah! You made my weekend!
The rest of the weekend saw intermittant volunteering, laundering, embarrassing moments on Yahoo Messenger, and bathroom floor scrubbing.
My mom donated a loveseat and recliner to a family of 10 who lost everything in New Orleans and was generously given a house to live in for 6 months, rent free.
They had nothing but some bags of clothes, some pictures and a couple of donated air mattresses.
But by the time we got there, others had donated more air mattresses, a HUGE diningroom table and matching chairs, a TV, DVD/VCR player, tons of food and water and various toys for the children.
I was thinking it took me years to accumulate that kind of stuff, these people got it all in just two days.
Absolutely amazing!
I have to stop watching the coverage of the hurricane destruction and the victims. I've been watching it non stop since it happened and I can hardly think of anything else.
I can't stop thinking of the pets left behind (sometimes forcibly).
I can tell you right now that I wouldn't leave mine behind. If I had a choice of getting on a bus to safety without my dogs and staying behind with them, you can guess what I'd choose.
No question.
Labor Day is also a Dutch holiday....
It's Lisa's birthday!!! Her first 29th birthday.
Happy Birthday!!!
I'd like to say Happy Labor Day but it's hard to add the word "happy" to anything right now.
We are getting 100s of evacuees in our little town as I write this and my mother's church is hosting about 200 of them.
I'll be volunteering there tonight and probably throughout the weekend.
I don't have a dime but I have plenty of time. At least I can offer that.
Have a good extended weekend!
I wrote a post a LONG time ago about peanut butter and how good it is with my favorite Pink Lady apples.
I received a comment today from the marketing director of Pink Lady America:
I'm the marketing director for Pink Lady America which is a grower-supported association that assists in the marketing of this new apple. I'm glad to hear that you enjoy Pink Lady Brand Apples.
That's awesome!
I didn't even get into how much I love those apples! I never buy any other kind. If I can't find Pink Lady, then I don't eat apples.
Having said all that....I'd rather have had an offer for some free apples for my sterling endorsement.
Or, better yet, donate a few cases to the refugees from Louisiana and Mississippi.
They could use some nutrition!
you better kiss your ass goodbye.
In one of yesterday's posts, I said:
I'm worried about my new car. I've never owned a brand new car before and the financial commitment is overwhelming. I'm worried that now that I have a new car, someone will crash into it, scratch it, bump it or breathe on it.
There was an amount of freedom in driving a piece of shit, you know.
Well...I was right to worry.
On the way home last night, someone hit my car. Yes, my car that I've had for 10 FREAKING days!
It wasn't bad; it could have been a lot worse.
I was sitting in the left turn lane, waiting for a green light. He was in a huge truck pulling a long cargo trailer turning left onto my street. He turned too sharp with that huge load and scraped the hell out of my front bumper.
Thankfully, it was only a flesh wound and it's not very noticable but it was my NEW CAR!
The other driver was very nice and felt like shit after he saw how my voice and hands were shaking and listened to my repeated mantra, "I've only had it 10 days. 10 days. 10 days. 10 days...." etc.
I'm still taking it to the dealer to have it looked at. I want my 10 day old car to continue looking like a 10 day old car. Jeez!
Right after the car debacle, my friend in Mississippi called me on a very weak cell phone signal.
He's ok and his house is miraculously still standing.
Now I can breathe again, for him.
I'm still trying to absorb all the horrible images from Hurricane Katrina. It's almost more than I can bear and I feel like a total shit saying that from my air-conditioned seat here in front of my broadband internet connection, while I sip an icy Dr. Pepper from my totally intact neighborhood Sonic.
I pray for those people everynight but it's going to take a LOT more than prayer to help them now.