In case there has been any doubt, this past week has been a rough one for me. Not only have I been dealing with/ accepting/ understanding the extreme damage that Hurricane Sandy did to my homeland and town but experiencing all of these… ugh, emotions… from a distance has been a completely isolating event. I didn’t really want to go out because, well, what should I say when someone asks me how I am? “Terrible”? “Horrible”? No matter what I say, it would never be met with an acceptable sympathy. Chances are the person in question hasn’t lost the place that was “safe” for them. To me, out of anywhere I have been, the Seaside boardwalk, in all of its bronzed, cheap, loud, greasy glory was the place that I felt the most complete, safe, and sane within myself. More than my house, my yard, my job, my parents’ house. Winter, spring, summer, fall.
(Besides this, things are going well and I am very busy. Too busy to leave the house, even if I wanted to. I got into the Bust Magazine Holiday Craftacular so I am busy prepping for that, the annual New Urban Arts sale, and holiday stock for the stores that I consign at. Plus designing new things. Plus, I just finished my first-ever, from-scratch locket. plus building displays. Plus sewing a Dear Creatures knock-off shirt. Plus eating my first frittata EVER. Plus remembering how much I love Christian Death. Plus walking everywhere when I do leave the house. Plus hugging the dog. Plus having friends come to me. Plus waking up Monday morning to see the owner of my second-favorite record store, sitting at our kitchen table, shirt open, cleaning his gun and drinking coffee. I love a guest who can make himself comfortable.)
EDITED TO ADD:
This site is also a good resource for a first hand description of what has happened:
But then there are the looters. The bridges to the island are impassable, so people are going over on boats. They are desperate to get there. To assess the damage to their homes, businesses, favourite pubs. And steal things. Martial Law took effect Saturday at noon.