Pent Up

I can't stand being cooped up in the apartment much longer. I feel cut off from the rest of the world, as if there are islands of people I know and love and in order to get to them I'd have to swim (or, in this case, walk) a really long way. New York without public transportation is like being a marathon runner whose fallen flat on his face during a race.

I miss the freedom of being able to go outside and be outside all day and do whatever I like, like see improv shows and visit friends. Being inside has made me restless to the point of wanting to do stupid things just to keep myself entertained with the possible outcomes of said stupidity. Like, all I can think about is wanting to text Kismet. I don't even know what to say! "How about the weather recently, huh? heh heh, I really like you. HA! Joking! But, not if you like me too." Fuck. Even if I were to get a conversation going I don't know how we'd meet up. It'd be such a heroic force of will (going from Manhattan to Queens right now is pretty hard).

I'm getting frustrated even while watching the animated series called Avatar, an anime from 2005 that I've recently discovered as my new obsession. (It's a fantastic show!) In it, among other amazing plot lines, two of the main characters have a lot of feelings for one another and they dance around the subject of confessing their love. I keep watching this tantalizing love dance and almost pull my hair out from the angst it is causing me! Then, on top of that my room mate has his girlfriend staying with us and listening to the two of them giggle in the next room as I try really hard not to listen and feel obnoxious about my existence, is, well, the aftermath the hurricane has provided for me to deal with.

I need to get out of the house! I want my life back! C'mon New York! Let's get back on our feet and move again! And Kismet: Show me a sign! I'm dying for attention over here!

Aftermath

The silence now that the storm is passed is filled with the chattering of human voices, as the neighbors emerge from their houses and take photos of the damage. I peeked out the window before leaving the apartment this afternoon and marveled at the number of families trotting down the middle of the street that would otherwise be busy with city traffic.

The sidewalks are covered in a thick blanket of leaves, branches and shrubbery. Then, there are the downed trees. I am shocked by what I saw while walking around the 4 blocks we explored today! My street, 48th street, which connects Sunnyside to Astoria, is lined with old London Plane Trees that are pretty old for New York City trees. They swayed in the winds of the hurricane like little baby saplings in a breeze last night. And today when we went out to look at the damage, these monster trees simply fell, over pulling open the concrete and smashing everything underneath. It's an awesome sight to see. There are 4 toppled trees on my block alone!

I haven't ventured out of my area yet, but the photos I am seeing on the flooding and destruction in Manhattan is really scary. I can't imagine looking out my window to see several feet of flood water. I remember wading across water that got to mid thigh here in Queens and being totally floored and jarred by the experience, but to have an entire neighborhood under water!?

I hear many people are still out of power, many are stuck in their homes until the water recedes, and many have lost their livelihoods to floods and fallen trees. I feel like all of this is somehow fake, like it's some big  joke that will go away when I wake up tomrrow. I remember, in college, watching the movie "Cloverfield" with my then boyfriend and friends. The movie is about a huge extraterrestrial monster destroying New York City Gozilla-style. Watching that film in theatres I remember thinking how unimaginable it was to think that the seemingly indestructable city like New York could be destroyed. Apparently all it takes is a lot of wind and a 12 foot storm surge...

Sandy

The winds are whipping outside like I've never heard them before. The 80 year old trees that line our block are swaying like grass in the wind as the 6 of us: my roommates, friends, sister and I watch for the trees and the close proximity the branches have to our windows.

It was laughable when the storm first started. Now since the sun has set the night has gotten creepier as photos from flooded streets, fallen trees and deaths begin to crop up on the Facebook newsfeed. The group and I have been watching TV, playing games and dancing to music to make the time go by, but the storm provides the most amount of entertainment.

Our lights are flickering, the wind sounds like a truck engine, a tree collapsed across the street, and the empty stillness of a usually busy sidewalk is eerie. Halloween can go suck an egg, this storm trumps the scary contest this year.

Still, in the bands of wind and rain, there is a simpleness to life here in the apartment that I haven't found in a while. I did Yoga with the girls of the house, flowing through a sun salutation and working up a sweat in our living room. The boys are playing chess, we watched about 3 hours of Avatar, and we've all played a game of Monopoly. I find that the uneasiness of being cooped up all day has forced me to finally turn to projects I have otherwise put off, like editing movies I've filmed. Oh, and drinking sangria and Hot-Totties has helped as well. My sister is making cookies and we'll all rally around another game of Monopoly later, I suspect.

I worry about the flooding areas of the city. I hope those people are doing alright. Here in Queens the odds of a flood is pretty low as we're on much higher ground than a lot of the rest of the city. I also keep checking the status of the mass transit system as well: no nothing. If you need to get somewhere: don't go. Although, my sister's friend chanced that theory when he took the 20 minute walk from Astoria to get to Sunnyside this afternoon. The guy's about 100 pounds, it amazes me that he wasn't blown away! But, it's nice having 6 of us here to keep each other company. Safety in numbers, no?

Electro Therapy

I met a guy on the subway last night. Or, rather, he just started talking to me. When he first sat down I thought he was a bum. He was carrying a crate with something wrapped in a garbage bag in it that he propped up between his legs. He was carrying a big gray stained coat and a black back pack stuffed with stuff; it looked heavy. When he sat down next to me I actually considered getting up and walking to another seat. I expected a sour smell to come from his direction and wondered when he might start muttering to himself. He didn't. Instead he muttered to me.

"Sorry to bother you. But, I was curious about the book you are reading." He said, reading over my shoulder.

I looked up from "Drop Dead Healthy" by A.J. Jacobs and showed him the cover of the book. He read it over appraisingly and then said, "You know. I write a website about health. You should check it out."

I looked at the man again. Why did I think he was a bum? The crate could be some tool he needs at his job and maybe the coat is stained because he has kids and they spilled apple juice all over it. The man pulled out a bottle of oil and began to moisturize his hands. The oil smelled citrusy and made me feel comfortable. "Do you have a card?" I asked.

"No, but I'll give you the address." He pulled out a notebook covered in scribbles. He looked like a writer, for sure. I felt stupid at this point. Who was I to judge this guy? He is not only not a bum, he smells downright nice, he was wearing a Yankee hat that looked very trustworthy, and is giving me a web address for his website! I looked over the piece of paper he gave me and smiled. I hoped that maybe he'd read my smile as a: Hey, you're OK, man. When I got off at my stop I wished him a good night. "I hope you check it out!" He called after me as I stepped off. "I will!" I responded.

It turns out his site is an advertisement for electrical shock therapy treatment with a huge banner for NetZero across the top. Did I look like I needed Electro-shock therapy?

I wonder what A.J. Jacobs would think of electro shock therapy. And I wondered again what the crate that man was carrying was full of.