Who has gas?
Yeah . . . I know.
Sue me already.
Want to know what my past week has been like? First, last week around this time I was basically being told by all the local newscasters that my apartment, which is on the first floor mind you, is going to flood and the entire city will flood and I'll have to live off Spam and water for weeks at a time while I waste away in the 100 degree weather with no AC because we have no power because a 'monster' named Rita will bitch slap us like we owe her child support.
By Wednesday the 4+ million people that live in Houston started panicking for gas and by Thursday nary a gas station could be found that sold regular gas. By that evening everyone and their grandmother was on the road trying to head either to Dallas, San Antonio or Austin in order to get the hell out of Rita's way because we didn't want a repeat of Katrina.My family only wanted to travel a mere sixty miles. We knew getting any further than that would be next to impossible. You know how long it took us to reach half that distance?
Five hours.
Thirty miles in five hours.
For those of you mathematically challenged that's six miles per hour. One mile every ten minutes. We WALK faster than that. But of course in 100+ degree weather no one's going to try and walk.
So we ended up coming back to town, but just a bit further than where we lived, to my uncle's house where my grandmother was staying for the time being (she was in town getting some tests run on her heart) and his son and another uncle of mine who came in with his wife, daughter and her two kids. So there was eleven of us in a three bedroom house.
No complaints though. I've certainly heard of worser conditions. I think at last count one woman at my job had twenty-two other people at her house.
I certainly ate well. We barbecued and the parental figure and her brother made breakfast for everyone every morning we were there (Thursday afternoon until Saturday afternoon). We also had more liquor than water at the house.
Every family that showed up took their own kind. My uncle and his son already had several cases of beer there. My brother brought a bottle of Jack, I with my vodka and my other uncle also brought a different kind of beer.
Goes to show what Hispanics take when they evacuate. We may being going through a tragedy but dammit if we aren't going to try and numb the pain!
However numbing wasn't necessary, seeing as to how by the time the storm hit it had moved far enough east and weakened so much that we hardly saw any rain and wind at all. I was actually a bit pissed because I took so much time to secure my things in my room and go through so much trouble to try and contact all my friends out of state and let them know where I'd be staying and etc and so on and NOTHING happens!
Sure the wind blew and the rain fell, but hell, as far as I know that could have just been God passing gas and spitting on us!
{Save your anti-blasphemous remarks for someone who hasn't heard them already}
Eh, but I'm young and the country is big. I'm bound to run into some more forces of nature another time.
The extent of my injuries over the past few days: 1) The trunk hood my my brother's car crashed down on my head as we we packing our things back into the cars. 2) I managed to stab myself in the toe with a toothpick that was lying around on the floor when I came back home and I was walking around (barefoot) unpacking what I had stored in my closet.
On top of all this I am sick at the moment. It's merely a cold right now. I'm waiting for that really cool gurgly sound in my lungs to start. That's when I know it's bronchitis. My voice is already beginning to crack and strain so it's only a matter of days before I won't be able to talk. Which is good for me at work because I'm stuck answering phones half the time and getting asked dumb questions and dealing with retarded people in general. So I get to shove that off on someone else.
I've been home two days and I still haven't contacted half the people I called before I left to let them know I'm still alive.
Heh, I'm tempted to let them sweat it out a little more.
Hmm . . . mass email time.
Random thought of the day: How old do you have to be before you STOP breaking out?
posted by The Green Butterfly @ 8:39 PM
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