Wednesday, October 31, 2012, 2:35 a.m.
It is 2:30 a.m., I am awake and I don't care - the power is back on. The last 29 hours were a pain. Liveable, but a pain. I will never again complain about the brightness of the streetlights shining through my windows at night.
That said, the destruction I've been hearing about and now finally seeing footage of is absolutely leveling. Hoboken, for one, still has 20,000 people trapped by flood waters. The beaches where I spent many a childhood summer are completely disfigured - we never really went to Seaside when I was a kid (it was always Point Pleasant and Wildwood for us, but I haven't seen pictures yet of those), but seeing the remains of the boardwalk, the roller coaster now half at sea, was like a kick in the gut. Seeing that 80-100 homes were destroyed by fire in Breezy Point, Queens, where my mom spent summers as a kid, is unfathomable. That happens on a normal day and it's the top story on the news for days. Now it's a footnote amongst all the other devastation. The South Ferry subway stop, the one most of my co-workers and I use, was completely underwater (they have no idea when subways will run normally again, period). My office building indeed had three feet of water in the lobby, six feet outside during the worst of the storm surge on Monday night - and this after our basement cafeteria, which employs some of the nicest people imaginable, was renovated only two weeks ago. I have no idea when we're going to be allowed back in there.
I took a walk on Tuesday and took some pics of my neighborhood that I'll post later, but the river came within five blocks of my building. I'm amazed how decent all the local businesses in the Hudson's path looked, at least in the Newport section, but I'm guessing underneath the buildings sustained the most damage.
In short, I am 35 years old, and I've lived by the coast my whole life, and this is by far the worst widespread desvastation of ANY storm I've lived through. And the words in this post and any post forthcoming will never, ever do any of it justice.
Monday, October 29, 2012, 9:35 p.m.
Well, I'm in the dark and posting this from my phone, hence the lack of formatting. The whole neighborhood stretching back to western JC is dark. It's creepy as f***. Also, my office has three feet of water inside, six feet outside. It's gonna be a great few days, y'alll.
Monday, October 29, 2012, 8:45 p.m.
My NYC friends are all losing electricity or cable or both. I guess it's only a matter of time here. The wind is crazy and it's carrying the sound of all the sirens around here. My work neighborhood is definitely underwater - cars parked on the street are halfway covered. The Newport section of Jersey City is also gushing and I'm waiting to see what happens here, if the Hudson has that much strength to make it roughly a mile inland.
In short, this is pretty freaking unreal.
Monday, October 29, 2012, 7:50 p.m.
Well, that accelerated fast. Within a 20-minute span, the East River flooded into Ken's Midtown neighborhood, right up to his front door (this after several large trees fell outside his building), the news showed that the Hudson breached the walls of the Jersey City waterfront and started spilling, quickly, into downtown (not near me... yet), my work neighborhood was declared to be underwater, and the entire front of a building got ripped off in Chelsea. Also, my parents lost power.
Here's Ken's situation from his front door, in case you didn't believe me:
Monday, October 29, 2012, 7:10 p.m.
In "That wasn't there an hour ago" news, a random wire is now hanging down in front of my kitchen window. I'm assuming cable or FIOS, given that it's white. At least, I hope that's all it is.
Monday, October 29, 2012, 6:40 p.m.
Been lucky with the winds thus far, but my lights just flickered twice. Some friends in Hoboken are without power (while others still have theirs). I'm gonna be pissed if it goes out at night because I can't even read if that's the case. I'll have to listen to the radio to stave off boredom like it's 1937 or something. Except they had electricity back then and I might not.
The news just showed Battery Park, and the area I normally sit in the summer on my lunch break is underwater, as is the pier my ferry comes into in the morning. Since I'm, like, everyone in town is under house arrest until tomorrow afternoon, I have no idea how the JC waterfront is looking. I assume not good.
Monday, October 29, 2012, 5:30 p.m.
So, I'm apparently under a curfew until 1 p.m. tomorrow. Shyeah.
The wind is blowing so hard at points that my building actually shakes a little. But other than that, there's nothing too frightening going on. Unless you count the prospect of being stuck in here for another 18.5 hours. MEH.
Monday, October 29, 2012, 3:10 p.m.
The wind is getting serious, y'all. My current concern of the moment is the vent from the downstairs laundromat lifting off, breaking free and deciding to crash into my living room window:
Monday, October 29, 2012, 12:15 p.m.
Another pic from Rachel, this time from the end of the pier closest to her building in Hoboken. On July 4th, it can look like this:
I went out briefly, with thoughts of possibly walking around town, but the steady drizzle kind of persuaded me otherwise. So any Jersey City photos will have to come later.
Monday, October 29, 2012, 9:35 a.m.
My friend Rachel took this pic from her Hoboken apartment. It's a pier on the Hudson that normally has a good amount of space between its bottom and the water. Not so much right now. What should be noted is that this isn't even the bad high tide they're predicting for later, so, yeah.
Monday, October 29, 2012, 8:35 a.m.
It's definitely gross outside and I can feel the wind coming through the cracks in my crap-ass windows. I think the laundromat downstairs may actually be closed (this is huge in that that thing is almost always open) - not that I'm running down there to check, but the building isn't shaking via spin cycles, so that's a huge clue.
Meanwhile, I have friends and family who are expected at work today. These are not doctors or police officers or FEMA employees. These are people whose companies are owned by totally a**holes. That's the only thing you can be called if you expect your employees to be on the road when a
state of emergency has been declared.
Sunday, October 28, 2012, 11:55 p.m.
The wind's kicked up... just as the baseball season officially ends. Oh goodness, April seems so far away.
Also: The pressure from this thing is KILLING my sinuses. Even my teeth hurt. I don't know what that means, but perhaps it gave me strength since I was able to take out one of my air conditioners today, with nothing but my weak upper body strength to guide me. I am woman, hear me roar, etc.
Sunday, October 28, 2012, 5:05 p.m.
Just returned from Hoboken, where my friends and I were part of only a handful of people at a restaurant along the water. As we were getting our bill, we found out the building was starting a mandatory evacuation. It should be noted that it's still relatively peaceful out there (there were mild whitecaps on the Hudson, but nothing too crazy), but this shows you how seriously this is being taken.
In the meantime, I'm done socializing and preparing to be bored out of my skull the next few days.
Sunday, October 28, 2012, 10:55 a.m.
Well, the MTA is officially shutting down, which means the PATH will probably be next. And I somehow doubt the ferries will be running tomorrow. I don't know if my co-workers and I are expected in tomorrow, but unless
Star Trek level "beaming" is involved I'm not sure how anyone gets there.
Saturday, October 27, 2012, 11:30 p.m.
So I remembered that I'm allegedly in storm "slosh" zone, whatever that means, back from when Hurricane Irene hit last year. My area wasn't evacuated then, but I looked up the map because I was curious how far back the zone extended. I mean, I live a mile from the water, yet my entire neighborhood is encompassed in this, should even the smallest of storms hit.
For what it's worth, nearly every basement I passed the day of the hurricane was flooded, but that was from rain water, not the sea rushing to meet the front door. I don't want to be one of those disaster naysayer types because I don't have a degree in meteorology, but if New York Harbor suddenly starts washing up on my stoop... well, I'll take lots of pictures. Because that would be effing insane.
Saturday, October 27, 2012, 8:20 p.m.
Sneaking out from The Chicken's militant storm preparations by seeing Kris Allen. I suppose entertainment might be hard to come by on Monday and Tuesday...
Saturday, October 27, 2012, 3:15 p.m.
The Yankee Chicken is doing his part to stay diligent, ensuring that our household has all the proper supplies (and wet-weather wardrobe) for the coming days.
One thing The Yankee Chicken can't stand is complacency. "Get the hell off the
beach bed," he implores the cat.
Saturday, October 27, 2012, 12:15 p.m.
Well, since they're all freaking out and saying this might be the biggest storm to hit the area EVER, I guess I will have to live blog it. It's not supposed to hit where I live till Monday, but I'll start preparing today by buying lots and lots of snackage. Because I don't see what else I can do but eat my feelings if the power goes out for SEVEN TO TEN DAYS (no, really, that's the warning right now).
Not sure what's going to happen with work because my office is in NYC's first evacuation zone due to its proximity to the river/harbor. Which, also, WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO MY FRIEND
THE BATTERY PARK TURKEY????