September 16th, 2004

I Will Not Defame New Orleans.


What kind of lame-ass hurricane is this?!

There hasn't been a drop of rain; on the contrary, the air is decidedly arid and cool by New Orleans’ September standards.

The wind is about as moving and powerful as a Celine Dion song — it’s really trying, but it is sadly failing. The only damage we’ve suffered at Clifford is that broom that was leaning against the wall on the back balcony — well, it fell over and is now lying on its side. I’m finding it difficult to get worried about that however.

The fact that it’s already 6:30am and I haven’t been woken up yet once is telling as well. I quite expected the 2am landing to make things rather bouncey around here.

The only reason I’m up is that I drank a lot of beer last night and I had to pee. When I first opened my eyes, I frankly forgot we were supposed to be in a hurricane.

Ben hasn’t stirred all night, and he was more worried than I.

I’m not bitching. I’d rather have me, my house, my cats, my friends be safe, but in the same breath — damn! — I kinda want my money back!

We were expecting Irwin Allen. We’re being robbed.

I’m going back to bed.
I Will Not Defame New Orleans.


Well that was eventful.

It's a beautiful, breezy, bright, sunshiney-pooh day in New Orleans.

Here are photos of the damage we suffered during Ivan:



Also, there are a few leaves in the pond…

We've filed an insurance claim for this devestating carnage.

Pray for us; we're still almost out of beer.
I Will Not Defame New Orleans.

Happy Birthday... my baby.

I'm a good boyfriend.

For Ben's birthday, I got him what any loving boyfriend would.

Beaver! And lots of it!

"Bling bling!" says the Beaver.
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