A Street Hurricane preparedness:
There has been a run on supplies in DC. And everyone in this town have their bathtubs filled with water. We went to the store last night and bought 4 pounds of meat to make pot roast, chips, beer and wine. We have collected every candle in the house on the coffee table. Which is about 3. So hopefully the power doesn’t go out, or else we’re drinking in the dark.
The pot roast was amazing, by the way, an impressive feat considering Roommate B and I straight up winged it. Last night we carved pumpkins in the living room. Mine was a princess pumpkin. I’m pretty sure a 5 year old could do better.
One of the hinges on the front door has rotted off the frame, so we have to kind of gangster lean the door shut. That’s fun. A window in the front room routinely falls right out of the frame as well, so let’s hope it doesn’t get too windy. Safeway doesn’t sell duct tape and that was our whole strategy. As my cousin used to say, “if you can’t duct it, fuck it.”
Roommate A is watching Maury. The topic: I think my boyfriend is washing cars for sex. I’m watching bootleg episodes of “Homeland.” This shit is insane. And makes me wonder, especially living in DC, about all the secrets I don’t know about.
We’ve got power, we’ve got snacks and we’ve got cognac in our coffee. I’ll be arranging an adventure to the local bar later, assuming the Fed is closed tomorrow, because one can only stay in the house for so long. Which means we all have to change out of our pajamas.
We’re alive and kickin’ on A Street with Grease songs stuck in our head. Hoping y’all are doing OK too.