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Back from Utah
Aug. 10th, 2010 02:09 pmActually, I've been back for over a week, but I was kind of waiting until I'd unpacked before posting. Then I realized that I knew myself better than that.
Getting There
Sunday, fifteen hours before my plane was to leave, there was a storm that was rather like a very localized tornado, and the power went out. I had not packed. I had not sent the 10,000 work emails I needed to send. My laundry stopped running in a machine full of water. Most importantly, the internet did not work so I couldn't look up Pepco's number.
I swear, come the apocalypse, I am doomed. Without the internet, I cannot cook, I cannot find a business -- when's the last time you saw a phone book? -- I cannot find bus schedules, etc etc.
Oh, and my car had stopped working the day before, so I was a little bit trapped.
Since our electric stove wasn't going to help much, Sir Now Appearing and I ventured out toward College Park in his car (no A/C), where it was rumored that there was a small area that still had power. Scenes of destruction and devastation met our eyes. I do not say this lightly, although I am very glad that we didn't see anybody hurt; just property. And trees. Oh my god, the trees. *Huge* trees, full-grown, ripped out of the ground, in some cases tossed willy-nilly on houses and apartments and cars. Trees blocking four-lane streets. Trees balanced in places they should not be.
University Blvd was an oasis on a Sunday night, bright with lights. We met up with Peter to get some pizza, and hoped by the time we got home the lights would be back on.
No such luck. I rinsed the half-washed laundry in the sink and strung clothesline across the living room, then realized that at 95% humidity, there was no way my sopping clothes would be dry by morning. Instead, I begged the keys from Sir Now Appearing, and headed back to College Park to the 24 hour laundromat (for which I thank any and all available deities).
The moon was out, but still no electricity by the time I got back around midnight. I lit a myriad of candles and started packing. This involved searching through the attic by candlelight, which is no fun task!
The lights were still out at five the next morning, when Sir Now Appearing drove me to the airport. I kissed my cat goodbye, hoping that he would survive the heat, and resigned myself to not getting the work emails done.
Skip forward seven or eight hours, and I landed in Salt Lake City. Eventually my dad and brother landed and we got the rental car. This was the part I was dreading the most: three hours in close quarters with my family. I breathed a sigh of relief when my dad brought out his iPod. As we headed up into the hills, bluegrass gospel music filled the car. Huh, I thought. I didn't know my dad was into bluegrass. Then I heard the lyrics. I remembered where I got my warped sense of humor from, and I relaxed, completely and utterly. That was when the vacation started.
More about the actual trip when work is less crazy.
Getting There
Sunday, fifteen hours before my plane was to leave, there was a storm that was rather like a very localized tornado, and the power went out. I had not packed. I had not sent the 10,000 work emails I needed to send. My laundry stopped running in a machine full of water. Most importantly, the internet did not work so I couldn't look up Pepco's number.
I swear, come the apocalypse, I am doomed. Without the internet, I cannot cook, I cannot find a business -- when's the last time you saw a phone book? -- I cannot find bus schedules, etc etc.
Oh, and my car had stopped working the day before, so I was a little bit trapped.
Since our electric stove wasn't going to help much, Sir Now Appearing and I ventured out toward College Park in his car (no A/C), where it was rumored that there was a small area that still had power. Scenes of destruction and devastation met our eyes. I do not say this lightly, although I am very glad that we didn't see anybody hurt; just property. And trees. Oh my god, the trees. *Huge* trees, full-grown, ripped out of the ground, in some cases tossed willy-nilly on houses and apartments and cars. Trees blocking four-lane streets. Trees balanced in places they should not be.
University Blvd was an oasis on a Sunday night, bright with lights. We met up with Peter to get some pizza, and hoped by the time we got home the lights would be back on.
No such luck. I rinsed the half-washed laundry in the sink and strung clothesline across the living room, then realized that at 95% humidity, there was no way my sopping clothes would be dry by morning. Instead, I begged the keys from Sir Now Appearing, and headed back to College Park to the 24 hour laundromat (for which I thank any and all available deities).
The moon was out, but still no electricity by the time I got back around midnight. I lit a myriad of candles and started packing. This involved searching through the attic by candlelight, which is no fun task!
The lights were still out at five the next morning, when Sir Now Appearing drove me to the airport. I kissed my cat goodbye, hoping that he would survive the heat, and resigned myself to not getting the work emails done.
Skip forward seven or eight hours, and I landed in Salt Lake City. Eventually my dad and brother landed and we got the rental car. This was the part I was dreading the most: three hours in close quarters with my family. I breathed a sigh of relief when my dad brought out his iPod. As we headed up into the hills, bluegrass gospel music filled the car. Huh, I thought. I didn't know my dad was into bluegrass. Then I heard the lyrics. I remembered where I got my warped sense of humor from, and I relaxed, completely and utterly. That was when the vacation started.
More about the actual trip when work is less crazy.