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Day 106: The Perfect Storm. Part I.


Illustration by Golly Bard.

The hurricane is said to be a lot worse than I was giving it credit for and staying home alone at my mom's house in the woods that would soon lose electricity was sounding less and less like a good idea. Per Kitty's insistence, I fled with her to her future in-laws house in Queens for the night - her Portuguese in-laws. I closed up my mom's house, taped up the windows, packed up my cats and headed off to enjoy a cultural experience and take a glimpse of her future life.

Driving through the suburbs of Long Island, all of the shops were closed and windows were covered with layers of tape. There was a sense of urgency as everyone was shuffling to their destination. We pulled up in the driveway and Adalia; Kitty's mother-in-law was bringing in potted plants, lawn chairs and the porcelain nativity scene that stays out year-round before the storm struck. The baby Jesus is now safely stowed in the basement next to Claudio's taxidermied animal collection.

"Claudio is outside in the rain." Kitty informed Adalia, "Good." Adalia said dryly while pounding chicken cutlets with a mallet, "I hope he gets his head blown off." Claudio was outside in his garden preserving his cucumbers and tomatoes and putting them in plastic bags for dinner. His head was fully in tact. 

While we prepared dinner, Adalia put on Jorge Ferreira and Kitty and I dancing around the kitchen while Adalia insulted Kitty's future 'wifing' skills. "I hope you take care of my son.", "You're too American.", "You don't know how to cook." and "Your bridesmaids dresses are ugly." were just a few of her greatest hits. I guess we all have our problems whether were single girls, engaged girls, married girls. It looks like we're still going to have to pay our dues in order to stop being treated like little girls who are useless.

Aurelien called on Skype to see how I was doing and if I was in a raft floating upstream in a Queens suburb. While talking to him, it was an international delight at casa Perreira with Adalia speaking Portuguese to Claudio, me speaking French to Aurelien and Kitty speaking "Sloth" to well, no one - all in a small space. Every so often, Claudio would smack Adalia's butt and which Aurelien managed to catch through the webcam. This is going to be a long 24 hours. 

Watching the news, one reporter advised us to not go out drinking, as tempting as it would be to say that you partied during Irene, it just wasn't a good idea. Who the hell was he talking to? That didn't sound tempting at all. Going to a bar out on Long Beach and getting washed up by the shore and/or electrocuting from a knocked down power line doesn't sound like anyone's idea of an adventurous Saturday night. Kitty and I were nestled inside with wine, Adalia's comments and On-Demand tv. It was perfect.

I slept with one eye open in the Perreira guest room as the wind speed increased, the windows rattled, with the power going in and out - all next to a large stuffed turkey who was watching me. The storm was certainly a-comin...


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