Aug 18 2008
Life on the Dirty Side of the Storm
For some reason we south Floridians on the east coast are always on the dirty side of the storm. A term that never fails to elicit a giggle from that juvenile part of my brain that still insists on laughing at fart jokes and the like.
The “dirty” part of the storm.
Fay’s “naughty” side.
The part of the storm that will make a grown man blush.
That’s where we reside.
Basically it means, while the storm’s ragged eye jogs along Florida’s west coast, we on the east will get pelted by rain and squally conditions even though we’re outside the cone of destruction. It means school’s been cancelled yet another day and we’re homebound, watching the charcoal skies and getting under eachother’s skin because our satellite signal gets wiped out everytime the clouds open up and pour buckets over our house.
Luckily we’re safe. Footloose and fancy free as long as the power’s on and our air conditioner is working its magic. I’m knocking on wood, crossing my fingers, and saying a prayer. Hopefully by tomorrow, Fay’s effects will be fading and her dirty side will just be an amusing anecdote.
Really, I’m just sick to death of her, she’s given me a neck twitch. Nothing funny about that.
