Isabel is a Bitch

So apparently MSNBC is on “the Strip” reporting live through the hurricane, Waterside is under water, and I wouldn’t doubt that Norfolk is a veritable miasma. Talked to the padres last night, and my dad bought a brand new flashlight/lantern/am-fm radio thingie in preparation. Personally, I think that hurricane season is just an excuse to buy gadgets and have a run on bottled water in the grocery store. Except this year, for the first time in about a decade (at least as long as I’ve been living in Va Beach), it’s for real.

It’s odd to see the big hurricane force wind swaths cover Cape Henry and the Tidewater area on the NOAA website (and very very cool, in my opinion, although I have been informed [“Nerd alert! Nerd alert!” according to Mandi] that it is quite dorky to harbor such sentiments), and to hear my dad tell me that he and our neighbors had parked all the cars in the middle of the cul-de-sac yesterday so that they wouldn’t get blown over by trees.

Personally, I don’t mind all that much having Isabel steal the thunder (ha, unintentional meteorological puns!) from my big b-day; the photo critique didn’t go all so horribly, and while having the tutorial group read Borges on a Thursday afternoon looked to be more painful than drawing blood, it’s been a relatively calm, uneventful day. This makes me happy, because the people that I care about sent greetings my way, and a few of them pleasantly surprising to boot. My ever-industrious and solicitous roommate has been an ass-kicking party planner this week, and despite her hesitancy to immerse herself in the Haver-social world again, is (i dare say) enjoying it.

My parents even found time amidst disaster planning to send out a package to me containing several amusing gifts, all of which remind me why I love my weird, random family. One of said objects is a ceramic cat that is hollow, with a hole in its head, and magnet affixed to the back. Said chotchke of ambiguous functionality made me laugh, because it exemplifies every care package I’ve ever got from my well-meaning mother. Kaitlyn, in a fit of genius, discovered by reading the bottom that its ostensible purpose is that of a “flower holder.” I swear, I NEVER would have figured that out.

The other gift in the box, this one from my dad, is a bottle opener. Now, this wouldn’t ordinarily be so funny, but my sister and I have for literally years mocked my father for the non-functionality of said corkscrew, which he keeps around solely based on the fact that he bought it in France in the 1960’s during his tour of duty in Europe. When I opened the Fed-Ex box, I busted out laughing and might have actually said out loud “that bastard.” Fortunately, after conversing telephonically with male parental unit, he informed me that not only is the gaudily bright blue and purple metal object designed slighty differently than the one that we have at home, but engraved on the side (as I noted earlier) is “made in Italy,” which is cute, because Dad knows how I have an irrational fondness for imported culinary products. I’ll probably refuse to throw it out when my (hypothetical) children mock me for its outdatedness.

I [heart] my family.

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