So, I am now an official Hurricane Escapee. Sounds more exciting then it actually is. The entire Tulane campus (including hordes of worried new-england borne freshmen) have had a giant bug up their collective asses for the past few days in anticipation of the storm, and so I am getting out as well.
New Orleans is approaching matters with a fairly typical mixture of PTSD-like fear from the recent unpleasantness and a valiant, drunken sort of bravado - people in the bars who DO evacuate like to preface it with a "But, I KNOW it won't hit, I KNOW I'll feel so damn stupid sittin' in Houston...and you know it'll just dog-leg right into me. I'm a fool for going." (But I think they do actually want to go. No one wants a reprise.)
And so I go as well. I'm flying out today around six o' clock but I'm getting to the airport EARLY. It's probably gonna be a zoo - they're not even letting anyone in withou t a boarding pass a-la India - so I may leave a little after twelve to hedge my bets. I feel for people driving. It must suck to be caught on the highway with no gas in a storm. If it hits, of course. (It won't! I will sit here in my bar and suck down Jager and mock the elements!)
It's a shame, since I am loving Tulane so far -thus the silence on the blog - and I don't want this pleasant beginning to be cut off short. I imagine we'll all be back in town laughing about this business on Wednesday (and then the parties will begin/resume/do what they been doing for the past few weeks.) I am looking forward to going to Houston, mainly because I always like seeing my aunt and her dogs. I guess there's nothing wrong with an unexpected vacation.