The Perfect (Shit) Storm

You might as well just erase this weekend from the record books. Got a calendar? Put a streak of black paint across the last two days with a pair of fingers.

Hey! You probably noticed: no blog post this morning.

One primary reason for that: no Internet access here at Der Wendighaus. The storm goblins came and stole it away, along with our cable television. In addition, The Ochre Plague (named so for the color of phlegm drawn from my swollen lungs with every heaving, hacking cough) has really kicked into overdrive after a few days of nesting inside my body.

So, it’s been just a spectacular weekend.

Yesterday, I decided to heed the advice of a friend who basically said: eat some spicy death food to burn out the sickness, like American soldiers on the Bikini Atoll barbecuing the enemy in their nests with whooshing flamethrowers (okay, I’m paraphrasing). We left the house to seek Indian food, and I hadn’t realized that the rainstorm outside was nigh-apocalyptic. We turned down our normal route and found a ROAD CLOSED sign, but y’know, it was one of those half-ass ones, right? The ones you can drive past (er, just barely, almost clipping a mirror)? I thought, “Oh. Road closed? Well, pshh, they’re not talking to me.”

Yes. Yes they were.

We followed other intrepid sign-ignorers, and suddenly found ourselves driving underneath a disaster scene. A telephone pole had fallen, but was held up by trees and wires, thus suspended above the road. Dangling from it, like electric tentacles, were live power wires. You know how you drive through the car wash, and those floppy rubber tendrils drape across your car as the machine does its scrub-a-dub-dub duty? It was like that. The wires blessedly were not touching the car, but it was dang close.

Lesson learned. Road closed could mean “electrodeath ahead.”

Anywho. Got the Indian food (mmm chicken korma I want to marry you don’t tell my wife), but found ourselves shut out of the electronic entertainment category until, mmm, about 30 minutes ago (24 hour outage). I guess it worked out. I mostly just hunkered down and let the plague have its way with my supine body while I slept, read Boneshaker, beat Mass Effect 2, and played Bioshock 2. Which was fine, and would’ve been fun had it not been for the pneumonia rattle of angry mucus. And the low-grade fever (new for today!). And the face pulsing with diseased snot. And the “I got shit to do” feeling.

Good times.


Here’s your obligatory post for the day. It rambles. I’m on cold meds. Deal.



    • @Eddy —

      Thanks, chief. No real harm, just illness and outages. No fun, but nothing to write home about. Or email home about, since the damn Internet was out. :)

      — c.

  • I’ve come close to delurking so many times on this blog, since I subscribed a while back and haven’t missed a post. Today seems like a day you could use a new fan, so here I am! This is one of the truly awesome blogs on the ‘net, so kudos for that, first and foremost. It rocks my pants. (Nice work on the redesign, too!)

    You know what else it sounds like you could do with today? Oatmeal with grated apple and chopped dates. Do it!

    • @Beth:

      Woo! Delurk! Delurk!

      Very cool, glad to have you here, and glad your pants are summarily rocked. Always happy to have a new member of the cult — er, I mean, *fan*… hrm. Yes. Fan. Here. Wear this robe. Drink this fruity beverage.

      (Good eye on the grated apple. Don’t have apples yet, but I will before this week is through.)

      — c.

  • That storm was crazy. My parents got into a small auto accident last night because of it. Then they got home and found they, too, had no power. They awoke this morning to find 3 feet of water in the basement (No electric = no sump pump). It took out the heater, the freezer, and countless decorations that my mom keeps down there.

    Then I get a phone call from my friend Seth who tells me that half of his roof blew off.

    I felt bad for complaining about a small, dripping leak I found at my back door. I cursed like a sailor for 20 minutes as I deftly defied the elements to staple-gun a trash bag over the problem area.

    Look on the bright side…at least it wasn’t more snow.

  • Wow. Your weekend by Bruckheimer. Glad to hear you didn’t die. I second using spicy food to slash and burn your cold. I use hot and sour soup from any reputable Chinese eatery. As a plus, it’s delivery. Works like a charm and no (ok, it’s me so limited) chance of electrocution.

    To share in the misery: Suz, the wee one, and myself went to drop of my car for an inspection yesterday, braving all manner of wind and water. Interestingly, I read a sign on the mechanic’s door which read that they had unexpectedly moved. Less interesting, and more sadly; I read the sign *after* I shoved my keys, registration and insurance card through the door slot.


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