Greetings from Hell

The power has been out in my apartment for 28 hours and counting. Last night it went out around 8 p.m., long before a severe thunderstorm blew through and knocked out even more power for more customers around 11 p.m..

Through it all, however, the uber-wealthy towns of Brarsdale and Sconxville continue to brightly gleam their gleamy glow of wealth and, well, power. Call me a conspiracy theorist, but the only towns that lost electricity BEFORE the storm knocked down power lines last night were Poor (sic) Chester, Yonkers, and Mt. Vernon. Oddly enough, when power came back on in Yonkers, Port Chester went out, when Port Chester came back on Mt. Vernon went out. Rolling black-outs for the not-so-privileged classes, anyone? Just as long as Muffy St. Moneybags can keep her cucumbers pre-chilled for poolside pampering before departing for the Hamptons. Remember when I went through my Marxist stage in college? Well, FRANKLY, I think I'm regressing.

Then again, I'm lying naked (sorry for the mental image) on my kitchen floor in the dark with a glass of lukewarm Gatorade for the second night in a row. Pretty soon, I may start hallucinating that I'm waltzing around a ballroom with Che Guevara, planning to overthrow the government. Any government at this point, as long as they have electricity in my cell in the Hague while I await my trial.

Of course, the darkness gives me a chance to admire all the little Day-Glo pawprints on my hardwood floors. Yesterday, before the power went out, the pets got into Joel's bags of paintballs. Apparently, they've given up on their quest to storm the Closet of Enchantment and Mystery, where the Dread Vacuum (and bag of spare dog food) dwells and turned their attention to the Other Closet. So I come home, locate my flashlight using the glow from my laptop, and wonder how the hell all these bath beads got on the floor when I don't even OWN bath beads.

Me: Guys? Where did all the little squashed balls of goo come from?
Bella: (yawns and stretches) An artist's work is never valued in her own lifetime.
Me: Look, you're preachin' to the choir. That creative shot I busted my ass for yesterday is lining some old lady's parakeet cage today. (swinging flashlight around apt) What the-?
Fred: (caught in beam of light, spies his own shadow): MOW! Kitty! Big black looming kitty!
Me: Dude, it's your shadow.
Fred: Pounce! RROW!
Me: SHA-DOW. It's you, only.. You know what? Never mind, just don't hurt yourself. What IS this stuff? WHY IS IT GLOWING? (stumbling over big bag of paintballs) A-HA! Am I going to have to call that ASPCA poison control hotline again? You're damn lucky the old landline phone works without a plug, dog.
Bella: It's non-toxic. I'm sure it will give me Day-Glo diarrhea, but don't I look so cute and vulnerable with my sad, cuddly-wuddums eyebrows?
Me: Save it.
Fred (running around room while I use the flashlight to locate paper towels): KITTY! I SEE YOU, BIG BLACK LOOMING KITTY!

When I got home from work, the electricity had just gone out about five minutes before. All of the food in my fridge was still good, and I was hopeful the lights would come back on in time for the much discussed Queer Eye episode. Five hours later, I was hauling both Princess Picasso and her deranged cat down three stories to sit in my air-conditioned car, so they wouldn't, you know, die and stuff.

Today it wasn't nearly as hot, only about 78 degrees compared to 99 the day before. My landlords fired up their generator and said I could plug in one thing, but not my air conditioner. :( So I opted for a fan while periodically charging my laptop, which I can use to post this entry over the landline. Of course, they have to occasionally shut off the generator to give it more propane, and they aren't running it overnight, but I'm not exactly Laura Ingalls Wilder here, you know?

Big black loomy kitty is right behind you, Fred! Run! Run away!



Plus, the shadow my fan makes on the ceiling is pretty cool. Who needs TV?



This one's for you, Con Edison.