Batten Down the Hatches

A storm's a comin'. A Frankenstorm to be more specific. A category 1 hurricane that is basically going to miss Massachusetts to be even more specific.

Now you may be asking yourself...why is New England getting a hurricane during the last week of October? Good question. And I believe the answer to that is global warming.

Last year on October 29, we were surviving a blizzard. Heavy snow took down limbs and trees that were still covered in leaves, leaving some towns without power for almost a week. Halloween was subsequently cancelled. This year, the power outages and cancelling of holidays may be repeated due to a hurricane.

The mass media (including the electronic billboard signs on the highway) have been warning us to PREPARE FOR SEVERE WEATHER!

So naturally, I spent the day running, watching Gilmore Girls, cooking, and making last minute trips to Target to complete my Halloween costume.

Now, you would think I would be more concerned as the last time I was faced with a major storm threat, I was woefully ill prepared.

I did pick up a few things to help me ride out the storm. I bought some pretzels and chocolate to make yummy things, some PB&J, and cereal. Because let's face it. If we lose power, everyone that stocked up before the storm will be moaning over spoiled groceries while I nom away on my PB&J in the dark.

I don't really know what batten down the hatches means but in the context of my life, I assume it means buy some water to drink, some food to nom, pick up a library book to read in case the internet goes down, and park my car as far away from trees as possible.

I'll let you know how I fare.

On Being A Grownup

Now that I am officially a grownup, life has tested me with a series of "grownup" tasks. In the past week, this is what I've learned:

• Being a grownup means being woken up in the middle of the night by the sound of water rushing out of your bathroom ceiling.
• Being a grownup means learning to deal with awkward situations like hanging out in the middle of the night with your landlord in your pjs.
• Being a grownup means calling your landlord in the middle of the night instead of your dad.
• Being a grownup means doing things that scare you...like calling the gym and asking if they found your rings that you took off and left on a machine to avoid finger calluses.
• Being a grownup means taking care of business...like representing yourself at your unemployment redetermination hearing and hoping for the best in the face of a grumpy DUA employee who won't look you in the eye or stop talking long enough to listen.
• Being a grownup means it's okay to reward yourself for surviving scary situations with hot chocolate from Starbucks.
• Being a grownup means driving to the gym to see if just maybe, someone turned in your rings. (P.S. someone did and I've never been so happy! My Celtic braid ring has 9 lives. I lost it at a bus stop once and after an entire day of classes I found it on the side of the road.)
• Being a grownup means understanding that sometimes to fix a leak the ceiling must be removed.

Being a grownup is exhausting.

     

3:30 AM

What were you doing at 3:30 am on Sunday night?

Hanging out with your landlord watching water rain out of your bathroom ceiling vent?

ME TOO!

Let me rewind. I returned home from the big birthday bash at the casino of the sun at noon on Sunday. The paint on my bathroom ceiling was swollen with water and small cracks were forming. I put a towel under the drips and put off calling my landlord until I had a chance to pick up my apartment a bit.

Fast forward...parent's house...dinner...Super Bowl...back home. I furiously cleaned my apartment then tried to hit the sack but I couldn't sleep because the dripping sound was bouncing around inside my head. I finally drifted off about midnight only to be abruptly woken up 2:30 am but the sound of rushing water. Upon investigation I found water raining out of my bathroom ceiling vent at a steady pace. I put a bucket under it and attempted to sleep again but it was soo loud. After getting up to check on the mess at 3:00 am, the bucket was filling quickly.

I texted my landlord at 3:00 am and made a tinfoil slide for the water to drain into the sink. It was at this point that I realized that I was not going to school/work in the morning. I slept 3 hours on Saturday night and 2.5 on Sunday night. It was raining inside my apartment and I had to drive to Worcester to run an errand today.

My landlord arrived after 3:30 am, shut the water off to the building and called the property manager. But hours later it was going on 6:00 am and the dripping was minimal. The landlord left, I crawled back in bed and woke at 10:00 for a day full of errand running.

Birthday recaps are coming but are temporarily on hold because things have been crazy in the life and times of Amy.

It's a good thing I'm no stranger to apartment flooding.

   

Rock, Paper, Scissors

Let me give you some back story:

When I was in high school, S and I spent a few days in Nantucket as a graduation gift.  During the time that we on the island, a man was shooting cars with a BB gun during rush hour traffic on the highway we took to get to the ferry on the Cape.  This continued for several afternoons.  I spent some of my time in Nantucket worrying that the day we drove home we would be shot at by a crazy person.*  (Yes, I worry about inane things on a regular basis.)

But yesterday as I was driving out to Western MA my fears came to fruition.  So there I was driving through a construction zone with my radio turned up just a bit too loud when BAM!  There was a super loud sound that scared the crap out of me and got my blood pumping.  I immediately turned off the radio and tried to assess the situation at 60 mph.  Is there a hole in my windshield?  Did my car's axle snap in half?  Did someone shoot at my car?

The windshield looked fine and I was still driving in a straight line so I continued to drive.  I cautiously turned the radio back on certain that disaster was imminent.  But all was fine.  As I drove I came to the conclusion that a rock probably hit my car.  I was in a construction zone...I was driving behind a pick up truck.  It must have been a rock.  I pictured a giant dent in my hood, or a busted headlight.  And then I saw it.  Hiding behind my review mirror was this:

I've heard rocks hit the windshield many times before but this was like nothing I've ever heard.  It's weird how the crack spread in a perfect circle.

So now I have plans for Wednesday.  And a lunch date with T!

* They caught the guy before we headed home so we were safe from the crazy person.

   

Live Action Blogging: Lightning Edition

In a very rare occurrence, WEMA had a tornado touch down in downtown Springfield.  In EMA (Eastern MA) that storm hit us during the 7:00 hour.  Naturally, I decided to sit at my window and watch the storm.

FYI:  In New England, we get awesome thunderstorms but rarely are tornadoes attached.  Also, these thunderstorms frequently occur mid to late afternoon following a sweltering and humid day.  While I cannot vouch for the humidity of today (I was playing hermit and did not leave my apartment) I can tell you that inside my apartment was super sticky.

The local news station interrupted TV programming to show us this:

The sky outside of my apartment was a crazy shade of yellow.

The storm started.  To one side of my apartment it was a beautiful sunset...but on the other, the lightning began.

Within 10 minutes it was raining so hard that the rocks outside of my window went from this:

To this (slow-mo lightning):

Obviously my extreme weather photography is beyond amazing and I will be expecting a call from The Weather Channel any day now.  The news had to break into programming to assure people that despite a tornado touch down and ongoing thunderstorms, they would cover the Bruins game as planned.  My favorite part of all of this is watching the weathermen geek out.

Weatherman 1:  "Have you ever seen anything like this in your career?"

Weatherman 2:  "No.  This is incredible!"

I got a text from R in WEMA advising me to "Get ready!  Seriously...water, blankets, radio and bike helmet."  Well it wasn't until this started that I began to get concerned.

So I quickly gathered all my storm survival essentials. This is what I came up with:

Apparently the only things I think I need to survive are:
Beach towel
8 oz of water
Cell phone with 1 battery bar
Pack of birthday candles
Small flashlight with no batteries
Barely charged iPod (it can get a radio signal)

Luckily the storm tapered off and I was still alive.  Let's knock on wood that a real disaster never happens because I would be woefully unprepared.

   

Third Time's A Charm

No visual construction update today, although there is wet cement on the new steps and I am just ITCHING to write my initials or something vulgar in it. But then I remember that I am supposed to be a grown up and have to exercise some self control. No promises.

There is a much more pressing matter to discuss today. Long story short my apartment has flooded twice because of an old pipe that froze and exploded causing a waterfall inside my wall that leaked into the apartment.

Thanks to the construction destruction men outside I came home to find water spraying out of a hole in the wall all over my living room. You know how you put your thumb over the end of a hose and it sprays....yeah just like that.

The hole:


The damage...look at the wall:


Ruined pictures:


Super Fun!

How Heavy is a Jackhammer?

Unemployment certainly has its pitfalls, i.e. no money, feeling useless and inconsequential in both space and time, and the heavy burden of filling all those damn daylight hours.

The one bright spot of unemployment is the freedom to determine when or if to set the alarm clock. However, I can tell you from personal experience that if you don't set the alarm clock you shouldn't be surprised when you are still in bed at 3:00...and yes that's p.m.

So being the responsible adult that I pretend to be, I responsibly set my alarm for 8:45 this morning with the intention of getting up, watching Ellen, cleaning the apartment, visiting a new baby mama, and entertaining a friend at my newly cleaned apartment.

I know you are thinking that you know exactly where this story is headed and I can tell you right now that you are wrong. I, in fact, did all of those things previously mentioned (although most of the apartment cleaning consisted of moving clutter into my bedroom and shutting the door...but let's not pretend we are surprised by that.)

Anyway...so I'm all snuggled in bed dreaming of my rich, piano playing husband when I am rudely awakened (awokened?) roused from my slumber by a jackhammer pulverizing concrete at 7:15 on a MONDAY MORNING! I tried (in vain) to coerce my mind back to sleep, but alas pillows make poor substitutes for earplugs.

After half an hour of this ruckus I dragged my bleary-eyed ass outside to see what the hell was going on. (Luckily I had the where-with-all to put on some pants.) I was greeted by the destruction of my neighbor's front steps.

For about 3.5 seconds I seriously considered tossing the jackhammer into the bushes and making a run for it. I mean look how much little destruction was accomplished in a half hour. At that rate those steps are going to be there until the end of the world! (I bet they wished they had a bigger jackhammer.) So I tiredly went about my day, which turned out quite productive for a Monday.

Seven hours later I returned to my apartment to find this crime scene:

Odds of sleeping in tomorrow? Slim to none.