Blown Away

(note: I wrote this post this morning, but the computer decided it needed to shut down to install updates. Stupid Windows Vista.)

Overnight, Gustav turned into a category 3 hurricane, and it's breaking my heart.

If you know me, you know that New Orleans holds a very special place in my heart. Cory proposed to me in the crescent city-- before Katrina nearly destroyed it. Three years ago this very weekend, we watched in horror as the city became a third-world nation overnight. And when things slowly returned to normal... or at least, as normal as they're going to get... we rejoiced.

We honeymooned in New Orleans-- half because we wanted to return to the place where we got engaged-- and half because we wanted to support the city in whatever small way we could.

Now, I'm holding my breath again.

I know that Gustav has to hit somewhere. And I don't want to wish that ill upon anyone. But it just shouldn't be their turn again.

Ladies' Night

I've been really trying to avoid politics lately... partially because I lost interest once Mike Gravel stepped out of the running (have you ever seen such bizarre political ads in your life?) and partially because Cory's fascination with MSNBC has gotten me burned out on the election.

However, I have to ask: What the fark is John McCain thinking? I mean, I kind of understand him picking a woman under the misguided notion that most Hillary supporters supported her because of her gender. But wouldn't you want a woman with a bit more experience? Or a bit more name recognition? Or a woman from a swing state? Or a woman from a state with a lot of electoral votes? Or a woman who isn't caring for a newborn child with special needs? Does such a woman exist in the Republican party? There has to be one, right?

I'm honestly just trying to figure this out. Did she get chosen because she's a former beauty queen? In that case, she's the female equivelant to Dan Quayle. I wonder how she spells "potato(e)."

I can't wrap my mind around this. There has to be something more to it than meets the eye. But then again, I've never "gotten" politics, and maybe this is just more evidence to support that.

Only in Florida

Sure... we've seen it before. An image of the Virgin Mary in a grilled cheese sandwich. Or in a chest x-ray. Or this time, Jesus in a piece of wood.

But only in Florida, can you flip that picture of Jesus upside-down and find el diablo instead.

Fay, Fay, Go Away

We obviously survived Tropical Storm Fay. She made landfall about an hour south of us, flooding the streets of Marco Island and dumping 8 inches of rain on some areas to the south and west of us.

Here in the Cape, we only got a little sideswipe by Fay... a couple of inches of rain and a lot of wind. We were ready, though-- with many jugs of water and fresh batteries in the flashlight.

Cory started his new job officially on Monday, going in at 8:00 and staying until about 4:30. Then he had to turn around and go back at 11:00 last night to help cover the storm.

Since I'm not in TV anymore, I wasn't on lockdown. Instead, I was in my own cozy bed, with my cozy little Zoe, watching the Olympics like a normal person.

The weird part is that we never lost power. I know what you're thinking... we didn't really get the brunt of the storm, so why would we, right? Well... we typically lose power at the drop of a hat. The Cape doesn't have buried power lines. Instead, every house is hooked up to a big power line. A stiff breeze, a bolt of lightning, a steady rain shower, and we lose power. On a typical summer afternoon during the "rainy season," we lose power once or twice a day. But somehow, we managed to make it through Fay without a single blackout.

Other places around us weren't so lucky. Collier County, just to the south of us, had about 35,000 people without power.

For the record, Cory got to come home at 10:00 this morning. He was home for about 5 minutes before he fell asleep. It was kind of funny, actually... I was hanging out with him until he nodded off, and I left the room. About fifteen minutes later, I could hear him calling my name. Apparently, he hadn't realized that he fell asleep, and he thought that I just disappeared.

Like I said, he was pretty tired.

I'm obviously at home-- one of the perks of having a "normal" job is that the office was closed today. I'm so bored that I called my boss to see if she needed me to come in (all the VP's are there right now), and she said not to bother.

Oh well.

Going for the Gold

I've been exhausted for the last week, primarily because I've been staying up until well past 1 a.m. watching the Olympics every night.

No posts here about Michael Phelps. Yeah, what he did was amazing, and I love watching Olympic swimming. But I'm burnt out on the guy. Seriously. So glad it's over, because I can't watch his freaky double-jointed elbows flapping around the pool any more.

Actually, I have one more thought about Michael Phelps... but I'll save it for the end of this post.

What I really wanted to talk about is Jamacian sprinter Usain Bolt-- and his performance in the 100-meters yesterday.

Un-freakin-believeable. First of all, the dude is 6'5". He towers over the competition. And he hauls ass.

By the 50 yard mark, he was the leader. By the 70 yard mark, it was obvious he would win. By the 85 yard mark, he'd already started to slow down, look around, and even pound his chest in victory. Oh, and he beat his own world record.

The whole thing pissed Cory off. "Why'd he have to screw around? I want to see how fast he could actually go?!?"

Today, I watched Venus and Serena Williams win the gold in doubles tennis. They dominated. And during their post-match interview, they were giggling like schoolgirls. Like they'd never won a tournament before. Or been on TV before. It's pretty refreshing to see famous "been-there-done-that" athletes act like little kids because they won a gold medal.

Okay-- so back to Michael Phelps. if you want a good giggle, watch this video (the good stuff doesn't come until about 4:15 into the clip. Feel free to fast-forward):


I'm pretty sure the dude isn't joking. And he was on my fantasy football team last year. I'm so ahsamed.

Stupid Hurricane

So Fay is headed our way... at least for now.


On Friday morning, it looked like Fay would hit far east of us, and travel up Florida's Atlantic coast as a tropical storm.

By Friday evening, the track was headed to the west of us, but was expected to strengthen into a category 1 hurricane.

Well, as these things often happen, the track has changed again. Fay is headed right for us again, and is expected to strengthen into a hurricane a little sooner than before. So keep an eye on Fay for us. (Thanks to weather underground for the screen shot)

Girl Power!

The Hockey Hall of Fame has announced its induction class for 2008. No surprise, there are some big names on there.
Brett Hull.
Brian Leetch.
Mike Richter.

And Cammi Granato.

Casual hockey fans know Cammi as the sister of former (and current again) Colorado Avalanche head coach Tony Granato, who spent his playing years with the San Jose Sharks (among other teams). Others may know Cammi as the wife of Ray "Chicken Parm" Ferraro, who's an ESPN analyist and a former forward for the Whalers/Islanders/Kings/Thrashers/Blues (and I've probably missed a team or two in there).

But true hockey fans know her as the greatest female hockey player in history, captaining a pair of gold-medal olympic teams. And in October, they'll know her as a "Hall of Famer."

You go, girl!

So many things to write about...

...so little time.

I've been pretty busy at work lately, with the Grand Opening late last month, the trip to Colorado a week ago, and budget time rolling around. It feels like all the time I spend away from the office, I'm either napping or trying to catch up on the TiVo. And yet, I never get enough sleep... and the TiVo is still jam-packed.

I have a few quick thoughts, though.

First, I've taken upon myself to try to avoid Wal-Mart until after the presidential election. It's not going to be easy, I can assure you. I can readily steer clear of the Supercenter (and very happily do so), but avoiding the "neighborhood market" just down the street will be tough. It's open 24 hours. And the prices there are much lower than any of the other nearby grocery stores. But I really don't like the fact that they told their employees how to vote. Three months is a long time.... we'll see how long I last before I cave in to their "falling prices."

Second, my love affair with Brett Favre is officially over. Of course, he never knew it existed. This last month has made me realize that his ego is just as big... if not bigger... than the rest of the players in the NFL. Oh-- he's still adorable. But he's a bit of a weenie. I guess it's time for me to retire the Brett Favre jersey.

Third, since I've had numerous people mention it to me, I have to make an "only in Florida" post. I hesitated to post it because it was all over CNN for the last couple of days, but what the hell. Did you hear about the guy who called 911 about a Subway emergency? No-- not a terrorist atttack on an underground train. A Subway restaurant emergency. Apparently, his sub didn't have enough sauce. Even better... when police didn't arrive after his first call, he called again to complain that they were taking too long.

Somehow, this state still finds ways to surprise me.

My Hero

I got back into town late Thursday night-- and still managed to get to work on time on Friday. After work, Cory and I went to grab a bite to eat during his dinner break.

On the way back, we were zipping about 55 mph down Pine Island road, a divided highway with turning lanes on either side. I saw something large in the right turn lane, swerved to avoid it... and realized it was a turtle, attempting to cross six lanes of traffic.

I yelped something like "We have to rescue it!" So we pulled into the parking lot of the neighboring strip mall, leaped out of the car, and rushed to the road. The turtle was hauling ass-- or at least, she was moving pretty quickly for a turtle. She was in the middle of four lanes of rapidly moving traffic.

The poor thing would take two or three steps, hear another car coming, and hide inside her shell. Once the cars had passed, she'd poke her head out, shuffle a few more steps, then hide again when another car was coming. And it's a busy road, so her progress wasn't particularly quick.

She was a good-sized turtle, too-- more than a foot long, so thankfully she was fairly noticeable. As traffic zipped by, we saw one car barely miss her-- her shell actually rocked a little when the car blew past. A few others braked or changed lanes when they saw her. When traffic finally cleared, we ran up and Cory grabbed her, ran across the median, across two more lanes of traffic, and set her down on the grass on the other side.

It was probably a good minute before she poked her head out of the shell, and she stared at us for a while, probably trying to decide if we were a threat or not. Cory snapped a quick picture of her, and I stood and wished I'd shot video of the rescue on my cell phone. After another 30 seconds or so of her staring at us, she started wading through the tall grass, quickly scooting away from us. Within about 10 seconds, she'd worked her way into some tall grass and we could barely see her at all.

I looked it up later and discovered that she was a Florida Red-Bellied Turtle. I told Cory that there's probably a society of turtles now who worship him as a god. I'm sure that they sing folk songs about him in turtle town.