Friday, October 28, 2005

Hello Kitty!

I'm alive! Alive and well and in New Jersey, luckily able to get out of the Wilma recovery process on the first plane that was available. I will go back when power is restored or when school reopens, whichever comes first. So it could be Sunday, or it could be November 15th - the date that Florida Power and Light claims that 95% of Floridians will have power restored.

Here is a brief account of my week. This is going to be a bit long. If you don't feel like reading, that's fine. Right now I'm so happy to have had a hot shower this morning and WaWa coffee in front of me that I don't care about much else.

Sunday: Day before storm.
Being the good girl that I am, I wake up bright and early and go out to do the errands that officials told me to do. I fill my gas tank, I go to the grocery store, and I do not pass GO! until I get my $2o0 (from the ATM). P.S. - the ATM, grocery store, and the gas station are completely deserted. It seems that I am one of only about three people in South Fort Lauderdale who thought to prepare for the storm.

I then come home and make sure my hurricane kit is prepared.

Brooke's Hurricane Kit
1. Bottled water
2. Batteries
3. 20 year old Duracell flashlight
4. Blue Princess corded telephone
5. Hello Kitty radio

All set. I then sit in front of the tv to watch the latest episode of "Watching Wilma". By noon I am looking up the numbers of the networks, preparing to threaten all kinds of bodily harm to the various newscasters if they block out football for more images of newscasters standing on the beach saying "Wilma's not here yet!" Fortunately they must have sensed my displeasure and football comes on at the designated time. Unfortunately the Packers lost in the last 2 seconds of the game. Crap.

Sunday Night
It is becoming apparent that the storm is not only beginning early, but is not going to decrease in power. It is going to whomp us as a Category 3. Rain and wind are already lashing at the windows. Not a lot of sleep is happening that night, especially since I am woken up several times by the toot-toot of various appliances being turned on and off as power comes and goes.

Monday Morning
Wake up at 6:00 am to howling wind and pounding rain. The storm is coming from the south at over 100 mph. Guess which direction all of my windows face? I turn on the news to see that one of the networks has already lost its broadcast video and is only showing satellite pictures of a growing Wilma with echoing voices in the background. 20 minutes later the cable goes out. Half an hour later the power goes for good.
It is now 7:00 am.
I bury myself under the covers and try to block out the sound of my windows in their valiant fight against Wilma the Twat-Whore - my new nickname for her.

Late Monday Morning
People in my building are going from condo to condo to check on each other and see the storm from various angles. Several are huddled, terrified, in the stairwells. I go across the hall to look after my neighbor who has emphysema. She is beyond petrified. We watch as tree limbs, signs, and awnings fly through the air and down the street to parts unknown. We go to my condo to watch the normally calm and glassy canal turn into white water rapids. Unidentified flying objects land in the water and are carried out to sea.
The storms subsides for a bit, but it's clear that this is the eye coming over us. I can actually feel the storm shift to the west. We are now on the dirty side of the storm. It is called this for a reason - it fights dirty. The canal now looks like a surfer's paradise - there are actual waves breaking. The wind is literally rocking the building. My neighbor, who had gone back to her place during the calm, bursts through my door in tears. It dawns on me that I need to add alcohol to my hurricane kit.

Monday Afternoon
As scary as the storm was, we are fortunate in two ways. One - it was short. I am here to tell you that if it had lasted all day and into the night they would have found me in the fetal position in my bathtub. Two - the cold front that pushed Wilma towards us settled into South Florida. It was a cool 75 degrees. After Katrina, it was approximately 95 degrees, and I had no power for five days. That pretty much sucked.
We are unfortunate in that not only is there no cable or power - but no water either. I feel positively decadent brushing my teeth and washing my face with bottled water. I then realize that my personal hygiene is not the only issue - there is the matter of the toilet. As soon as it is deemed safe to go outside, I find myself a big bucket (previously used for kitty food - kitties seem to be a recurring theme here) and scamper down to the pool. I will use pool water to fill my tank and flush! I am so clever!!! I arrive at the pool to see nine other residents who are just as clever - and clearly quicker - than I. I spend the rest of Monday staring out the window and talking on the phone. I then go to bed at 8:00 pm. Between hauling water and going to bed the minute it gets dark, I feel like Laura Ingalls.

"The Recovery"
Tuesday - was spent talking on the phone, listening to Hello Kitty, eating junk food, and going up and down the four floors of my building with toilet water. I also rearranged my cupboards.
6 million people are out of power in Florida. People are fighting in the streets over gas, ice, and water. My street has utility poles at 45 degree angles. A palm tree is lying on top of a car. Tree limbs are - literally - everywhere. It is announced that most people will not have power until mid-November. I attempt to book my flight out of hurricane hell.

Wednesday - water returned in the morning at a trickle. It was at once the best and the worst shower of my life. My flight, which had been booked for that night, was cancelled. Of the one million people in Broward county that lost power, 12,000 have had their power restored. I was rearranging my closets when a neighbor poked his head in and invited me to a barbecue for that evening. I emptied my freezer and joined my neighbors - many of whom I had never met. Everyone contributed their thawing perishables and favorite alcohol. We even had music and a lamp thanks to one neighbor's generator. It was truly a bright spot in an otherwise dark time.

Thursday - I actually get in my car and drive the five miles to a friend's house, cursing myself all the way for not bringing my camera. Only one traffic light in the five mile journey is working, and many are simply gone. Trees have uprooted sidewalks. Lines are six blocks long at gas stations. There is a Starbucks that has no windows left, and the glass is sprinkled like glitter on the street. I am ecstatic when the reports from the radio state that the airport is open.

And so here I am, in mom's den drinking coffee and looking out over the beautiful view of the beach. I am home. Truly. Yes, I will go back to Florida and work the rest of the school year - I could not possibly think of leaving my kids now. But yes, I will be moving back to Jersey when the school year is over. I will not go through another hurricane season like this. I will not go through another hurricane like Wilma. She made up my mind for me. So I guess I have her to thank for helping me decide my future.

Thanks Wilma - you twat-whore.

Thursday, October 20, 2005

The Perfect Man

Today is the birthday of the object of my desire - Viggo Mortensen. He is hot, gorgeous, talented, hot, artistic, intelligent, well-spoken, sexy, and did I mention hot? And as if I didn't already think he was ice cream and cake, I read this today from one of his interviews (click link to read the whole article):

Interviewer: Are you anti-Bush, as the pundits say?

Viggo: No, I'm not anti-Bush; I'm anti-Bush behavior. In other words, I'm against cheating, greed, cruelty, racism, imperialism, religious fundamentalism, treason, and the seemingly limitless capacity for hypocrisy shown by Bush and his Administration.

Seriously, I think I'm in love.

Monday, October 17, 2005

Bumping Uglies

Kris tagged me for the bumping uglies meme. In this meme, you are supposed to admit which less-than-attractive celebrities you would shag - making the term bumping uglies extremely literal. The problem, as I have explained to Kris, is that I am shamelessly shallow when it comes to the idea of star fucking. If the man is beautiful and famous, I pretty much want to do him. And though I made a concerted effort to think of ugly men I would do, I came up empty.

So instead, I decided to change this to the I don't care how rich, famous, or powerful you are, I wouldn't do you unless there was a gun pointed at my dog meme. It was painful for me to even download these pictures to my computer, let alone add them to my blog. I hope you all can appreciate my sacrifice.

First on my hit parade:

I'm a dickAndy Dick. His name says it all. He is my premiere nominee for Todd's Shovel Justice - people who deserve to be hit in the face with a shovel. And then hopefully buried using that same shovel. I think if I saw him naked I'd gouge my eyes out with a spoon.

I'm an untalented horse's assDavid Spade. Don't you just want to smack the grin off of that face? Again, the idea of that "man" - and I use that term loosely - in any type of sexual situation is enough to make me consider celibacy for life.

I'm a tremendous buttheadThe Donald. They say that power is an aphrodisiac. In this case it brings on the bulimia. Besides the fact that he is an incomparable ass, that hair should be ripped right out of his big ugly head. And don't get me started on those eyebrows.

Someday we will all burn in hell

The Bush Administration. The true axis of evil. Just thinking about them makes me want to loofah my skin off.

I'm a freak of biblical proportionsTom Cruise. Freak.

Feel free to tag yourself. I'm off to fantasize about Viggo in an effort to stave off the nightmares this post will no doubt bring on.

Thursday, October 13, 2005

Que Sera, Sera

When I was just a little girl
I asked my mother
What will I be
Will I be pretty
Will I be rich
Here's what she said to me
Can't you see I'm busy? Go play in traffic or something.

Que sera, sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours to see
Que sera, sera
What will be, will be

When I grew up and fell in love
I asked my sweetheart
What lies ahead
Will we have rainbows
Day after day
Here's what my sweetheart said
Holy shit, you're not pregnant are you?!?

Que sera, sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours to see
Que sera, sera
What will be, will be

Now I have children of my own
They ask their mother
What will I be
Will I be handsome
Will I be rich
I tell them tenderly
I am your teacher, not your mother. Stop calling me mom and go practice your spelling words.

Que sera, sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours to see
Que sera, sera
What will be, will be

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

Brooke Needs

I wish I could remember which blog I saw this meme on so I could give the blogger credit and a link, but alas, I don't. God I hate being 40, at least I remember the meme.

First, go to Google. Then type in "(your name) needs" - don't forget to use the quotes. Go through the results and find 5 things you need and would like to share with the rest of us.

I have to add that I am so lucky that my name is the same as a major soap opera character!

So here are 5 (of the many) things that I need - according to my Google search.

1. Calling All Hunks Brooke Needs You!!!

2. To cut back on stress and find emotional satisfaction, Brooke needs a variety of intellectual pursuits.

3. Brooke needs to have a story line and a decent guy again!

4. To make at least part of life right, Brooke needs an arena for excellence.

5. Brooke needs a house, a car, some money, (and with $20 million dollars, she can hire her own damn housekeepers.)

I think these are all right on the money - literally. I now tag everyone reading this.

***Added note regarding previous post: My brothers have been calling and are offering more help. My classroom looks fantastic - I have three teachers begging me to do their rooms too. My cold has cleared up. My potty-mouthed student was the star student of the day today.

It's still hot and humid as hell and I'm still single. This too shall pass.

Packers won. But against New Orleans. Does that really count?

Thanks for being my complaint department. It won't happen again. Love you all.

Sunday, October 02, 2005