WITH A GREAT BIG SHOUT-OUT TO MY DEAR FRIEND MELISA: THANKS SO MUCH FOR YOUR AWESOME GUEST POST WHILE WE WERE HURRICANE-ING!
A week ago, at this very moment, I posted a semi-lighthearted Facebook status — something about my husband Garth (not his real name) going out and hunting down donuts before we all go Amish for the next few days — having lived in the Bayshore area of New Jersey all our lives, we are no strangers to storms.
Truth be told, considering Hurricane Irene ripped us a new one a little over a year ago, my husband and I were more than just a little concerned about our roof riding out the projected monster of a storm known as Hurricane Sandy (a.k.a. #Frankenstorm, #Blizzicane and/or #Snor'eaterscane).
Our house loses power whenever the town burps or hiccups (see also: FUBAR) so, stocking up on can goods, batteries, candles, lots of ice and Ibuprofen (okay, that last one was for me) is pretty much the norm.
I continued posting snarky stuff on Twitter too, like: whoever came up with #Frakenstorm is most likely NOT from Jersey, better known as #Frigginstorm.
Or, contrary to what some folks believe about NJ, how I did NOT plan on being very warm and/or welcoming…sorry, Sandy.
Then the lights went out, we lost ALL contact with the outside world and stuff in our town started blowing up.