Welcome to NYC, GQ!
Here’s a little earthquake.
Full up on natural events yet (because I refuse to call an earthquake I didn’t feel at all while walking around MoMA a “disaster”)?
Then here’s a tasty little herrrkane for afters!
Yep, my last week in NYC is all herrrkaned-up thanks to Hurricane Irene and its associated impending DOOOOOOM. The news is jumping up and down about Manhattan floating away and us having to eat our young (or something), and yet I sit in Lower East Side staring at a mockingly sunny day (while I’m holed up inside trying to write songs while the Dutch tourists are out of the flat).
My only concern is getting to Brooklyn the day after it’s scheduled to maybe-hit. Because, Cats and Kittens, it is still very much a maybe whether it will hit at all. The maybe about me getting to Brooklyn is non-existent, for I must get to Brooklyn.
Therefore behold my blog while we still have power, and I still have the energy to procrastinate songwriting! Basically, as long as no one dies, I can get to Brooklyn on Monday, the power and water stays mostly on (or, if off, for only a short time) and then fly home to you, Melbourne, on Wednesday, then all will be well. And it better because, generally, I don’t like much food that comes in tins.
So maybe I will venture out today to witness the panic buying, although all I can see from my window is the older Hispanic gents sunning themselves and a Mister Softee ice cream van tinkling by. In fact, this will probably be my herrrkane checklist: