Wow This Is Amazing. I'm Not Around Any Hurricane Zones Or Even Close And I Actually Didn't Even Know

Wow this is amazing. I'm not around any hurricane zones or even close and I actually didn't even know there was such thing as a hurricane party. Things like this give me hope because, when it matters, when it REALLY matters, people are GOOD. Yes, there's that two percent who aren't, but in general they are. Like these are strangers going to people's houses and staying there and these people are welcoming them into their homes because they NEED that. They're looking out for each other and taking care of each other. I just think that no matter what others might say, people are amazing and no matter what happens we're gonna get through it because we're human and that's what we DO and I think that's awesome.

The Downlow on Hurricane Parties

Okay *presses hands together*I’ve been seeing a shit ton of posts about these and no actual explanations about How Living In a Hurricane Zone actually fucking works. Like - socially. 

Reciepts:  I was made homeless by 2 hurricanes in my life - once at 8 and again at 17. I have also ridden out more hurricanes than I can remember. I grew up in Hurricane Alley in florida and I have a tshirt from my senior year that says I Survived Hurricane High School because our senior year was so fucked by Hurricane Ivan no less than a 1/3rd of the student body was displaced. Aside from my parents divorce it’s probably the single most impactful thing to ever happen to me.

So let me explain a thing to those of you who don’t have hurricanes.

There’s a few types of hurricanes that make landfall on the continental US. There are REALLY BAD hurricanes - like Katrina and Harvey. Those are the ones where all you can do is Fucking Run.

But then? There’s the Less Bad Hurricanes.Those are insanely windy and full of rain and trees come down and shit gets bad but like…mostly, you get through it by hunkering down - boarding up the windows with plywood or specially made hurricane shutters(actually a thing, we had them on my house) bring in everything you have outside your house and plying it up in your living room and then just waiting shit out. Wild right?

If you live in Hurricane Alley, you realize, hey, for a Less Bad Hurricane, higher ground is all I really need. That is still an evacuation, it’s just not a  Fucking Run full evacuation. When you evacuate to higher ground you almost always end up at Someone’s House and often, whoever’s place you end up at is putting up 2+families and so are other people in that area because that’s the Higher Ground.

Here’s what’s happens. The whole goddamn town shuts down. This is one of the few times capitalism comes to a grinding halt (unless you work at Waffle House. That motherfucker stays open until you pass Cat3 because they’re more intrepid than any fucking US Marine) and the whole town shuts down. There’s power - until there isn’t. There’s water - until there isn’t. 

And then? 

There’s just you and the people you’re trapped in a house with for hours if not days.

What you end up with is a lot of people in one place, sharing their supplies of water and food because they have to - gathered in the ONE place that might have a generator - WHICH YOU CANNOT RUN ALL THE TIME ANYWAY, DON’T LISTEN TO ANYONE WHO TELLS YOU DIFFERENTLY - when the weather is wet and also 90+ degrees, because you gotta remember this only happens in the summer. Schools are closed so a lot of the time, people are trapped in small places with their kids who dont know each other that well and cannot go outside and play which is a nightmare because did I mention the electricity is down? Yeah, this is literally the start of a fucking horror movie. 

Because on top of that, after a certain point, the sun is going to go down. You may have candles but not THAT many and you wanna save them so you can’t read.

And what are you going to do with that time? Seriously, what? Fam you gotta TALK to each other to pass the time.

Plus?  All the adults are fucking stressed out. Aside from the host, no one is in their own home and they’re scared. They might pretend they’re not but they are. They may not be scared for they’re life but they’re afraid for their property and their friends who didn’t come with them and they’re afraid for what’s going to happen when that motherfucker makes landfall and and and. 

You know what makes that experience easier (on the adults at least)? Alcohol (and weed if you’re in Florida where that shit is legal) and revelry and generally being playful, letting the kids play too, maybe getting a brightly colored cake that makes the whole experience less terrifying. 

And lo, hurricane parties. 

So yeah. That’s what’s going on with hurricanes.

That’s whats going to keep going on with hurricanes as the climate crisis continues.

And if you try and guilt and shame people out of their coping mechanisms and survival tactics that scientists and survival experts have proven work (seriously, I went to a panel on how to survive an apocalypse and the first advice they gave was Throw A Party) then you’re just wrong. Stop harshing people and start being supportive. Things are only going to get worse as we move forward and trust me when I tell you, a good hurricane party can save sanity and lives. 

Perks and Querks of Dating Jungkook

That whim you get of dating Jungkook even though you know you're way too old to be thinking about stuff like that and anyway you live in completely different countries but you still can't help but think of small querks and perks of dating him.......

1. Listening to him sing quietly to himself while he does random things that don't require thinking.

2. Staying up late and quietly listening to him rustle around, eat snacks, and do laundry (cause we all know he's fairly restless at night).

3. Holding him in your arms and carding your fingers through his slightly damp hair right after he gets home from dance practice, sweaty and exhausted. It's a little gross, with him being nasty and sweaty from working all day and if you're honest his breath doesn't smell the best (he's been snacking all day on junk food and his breath isn't exactly minty) but it's Jeon Jungkook and his first choice after coming home from work is to go straight into your arms to rest and that makes it all 180% worth it.

4. Asking him to dance for you and anticipating whether he'll be shy or cocky about it.

5. Going to his concert and screaming your lungs out and hoping against hope you get one flicker of eye contact with him and knowing that he's YOURS and ONLY yours, knowing it's not allowed and so very wrong but that's (even just a tiny bit) part of the thrill isn't it?

6. Laying your head in his lap and falling asleep to the feeling of him fidgeting with your hair and the sound of him singing softly.

7. Muscles.

8. Him being a brat and not wanting to share snacks, resulting in you chasing each other all over the house trying to get them, laughing and being dorks. It's a little childish, but he never had a child hood and this is the best he's got, and you're not as fast or strong as him and you can't keep going as long, but it's fun while it lasts.

9. Teasing him endlessly about how good his songs are and watching him blush.

10. Pictures pictures pictures pictures.

11. Having singing competitions with him. He always wins of course and it's embarrassing for you sometimes, but you still love it because Jeon Jungkook that's why.

12. That weird little criss cross position he sleeps in.

13. Bare face.

14. Buying him cheap little birthday presents even though he asked you not to and watching him do that little awkward smile as he looks at the trinket he could have bought a million of but it's the thought that counts.

15. Staring in shocked awe every time he walks through the door because no matter how many times it happens you'll never get used to the fact that you're dating THE Jeon Jungkook...

He’s running before you can question anything. Sam darts after him, “Jr wait!” You dart after Sam, “You can’t go with him! You’re not a werewolf! Guys!” You skid to a stop just before you reach the alley. You don’t want to get involved. You’re not magical, you can’t get bit, it could kill you. You don’t need to be in the midst of this. It turns out that it doesn’t matter what you need or do. The wolves spill out of the alley, it being too small to hold them. You scream and scramble back, but the wolves quickly engulf you. You duck behind a trash can quickly, trying to hide. Why do these things ALWAYS happen to you? ‘They didn’t before I met Jr…’ The thought barely has time to rush through your mind before a wolf whips around the trash can. It’s eyes fall on you and you freeze, staring at it. It lunges and you gasp and roll out of the way. You manage to avoid the brunt of the attack, but the claws of one paw still find your arm. They rake fown your arm, from you elbow to your wrist. It doesn’t hurt, you’re too pumped full of adrenaline for that. You take off running as fast as you can. The streets are full of wolves, everywhere. Where did they come from? Did they escape from the wolf city? You don’t see Jr or Sam anywhere. You round a corner, only to see another wave of wolves. They’re all fighting among themselves. Your mind wanders back to Jr, ‘That’s my pack…’ You stumble over to a building, pressing yourself against a wall. ‘There’s a pack of wolves in my city…. No… There’s more than one pack of wolves, there’s at least two, fighting, right now…’ You try to squeeze into an alley, but two wolves notice you. One lunges, but the other rams into it and glares. You stand frozen, not daring to move. After a moment, they turn and run off. You would have cried with relief, if you had had time. But right now you have to get out of here. You have to get home. You turn and warmth splatters across your face. It burns. You wipe at it desperately, squinting around to find what it’s from. Right in front of you, there’s a wolf being ripped to shreds. You stumble back, nausea taking you. You collapse by the building and look down. Your eyes find your bloody arm, then fall to your wrist. Your bracelet… Your charm... Your protection... It’s gone. You gasp and wipe desperately at your face, “Jr? Jr! Jr!” Fear grips you as everything swims. No… This can’t happen to you… You can’t be exposed to this kind of magic, not without your charm… You finally find Sam. He’s crouched against the wall, a wolf with bright blue eyes is guarding him. You assume that’s Jr. You call out for him again, but your voice is weak. You have to get out of here. You have to find your bracelet. You try and get up, but fall again. Why is this happening to you? You can’t die… Your mom needs you… Jr needs you… You crawl towards Jr. A wolf rams into you, slamming you against ground. You groan. The wolf is heavy, and not moving. You’re too weak to push it off. ‘Isn’t he supposed to notice me? Isn’t he supposed to come save me? Why isn't he coming?’ You stare at him from the ground. He’s guarding his brother with everything he has, not letting anyone even close to him. He doesn’t even glance in your direction. And then you realise… No… He’s not supposed to notice you. He was never supposed to protect you. You aren’t the main character. This isn’t your story. This is there’s… You were always just a side character... Your eyes slowly close and you breathe out for the last time...

The Maid

Boston and his parents had been living in the same house for years. Ever since he could remember. It was an old thing made of brick. It had a big fireplace with a chimney. Boston used to love watching smoke come out of it. Out the front door was a wide porch, taking up the whole front of the house. On the porch was a swing that Boston used to play on. Out the back door there was a set of stairs and a giant oak tree with a rope hanging from it. Except Boston’s parents said there wasn’t, but there was. The maid said she could see it too so Boston knew it was. The maid only used the back door. She said she wasn’t allowed to use the front door, since she was just a maid. Boston had wanted to convince his parents to let her use the front door, but she had said that they wouldn’t let her play with him anymore if he tried to. He wasn’t sure why, but he wanted to keep playing with her, so he didn’t. One time he had asked her why his parents always ignored her. She had said it was because the adults were supposed to pretend the maid didn’t exist. Boston had thought that was very mean, but she had told him not to tell them that either or they might get her in trouble. Boston hadn’t wanted to get her in trouble, so he hadn’t said anything and had started to pretend she didn’t exist around his parents as well. As he got older, it became habit to not talk about her. He started to accept that that was just how maids were treated, though he never ignored her when they were alone, no matter how old he got. She seemed happy about that. Often she would wake him in the middle of the night to play with her. He had tried to teach the kids at school the games she taught him, but he got in trouble. The teachers told him he shouldn’t hurt people. He had tried to explain that he just wanted to see how much they could take before begging him to stop. It was just a game! Instead of understanding, they would suspend him. When he tried to explain that the cuts up his arms and across his fingers were from him playing and that the bruises around his neck were just pretend, but, instead of wanting to play with him, they would send him to counseling. They told his parents he was “self harming”. He tried to explain that he wasn’t doing it, that it was a friend, but when they asked who, he couldn’t tell, since the maid said if he did, she’d get fired. Then they wouldn’t be able to play anymore.

Watching my toddler figure out how to language is fascinating. Yesterday we were stumped when he kept insisting there was a “Lego winner” behind his bookshelf - it turned out to be a little Lego trophy cup. Not knowing the word for “trophy”, he’d extrapolated a word for “thing you can win”. And then, just now, he held up his empty milk container and said, “Mummy? It’s not rubbish. It’s allowed to be a bottle.” - meaning, effectively, “I want this. Don’t throw it away.” But to an adult ear, there’s something quite lovely about “it’s allowed to be a bottle,” as if we’re acknowledging that the object is entitled to keep its title even in the absence of the original function.

So I had my story written in a journal and lost the journal (this is why electronics are useful kids!)... But I found the journal so gonna get it on the computer, edit it, and hopefully post it very soon! Sorry for the long wait! It's coming soon! Really this time lol XD