This Irene bitch better back off. I don’t think she realizes we live in NEW JERSEY. This is not Florida, not the Caribbean, not even the Carolinas. NEW JERSEY. We aren’t used to freaking hurricanes. We know how to deal with snow, and obviously Lincoln Park has dealt with flooding, but this hurricane business is no joke. Between the flash floods, floating cars and newly installed basement swimming pools, we’ve had enough and we’ve barely started. The cement stair in front of my apartment building are under water. Um what? I don’t think I packed enough clothes for this (and by think I mean I know. I have 1 pair of capri sweatpants, a t-shirt, a long-sleeved t-shirt, and my rainboots. Oops.) and there is definitely no way into my apartment. Unless, I plan on swimming? Yesterday right after the brunt of the storm, the fiance’s mom, Mama Bo, and his sister, J.Bo, and I went for a walk to see the damage. Luckily, they’re not in a flood zone so not only were we okay, but friends brought their cars to the safehouse as well. Because their house was so unaffected by the storm, we didn’t know what the rest of the town looked like and set off to find out.
Please note that I am experiencing some VERY frustrating technical difficulties and the pictures will be loaded ASAP. Thanks!