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Posts Tagged ‘trouble’

The last time my city was threatened with a hurricane was Baltimore in 2003. I had just started my freshman year, and Isabel decided to parade right on through, completely uninvited.

We were warned for days in advance and classes were preemptively canceled so that we could all be safe and sound.

And by “safe and sound,” I’m sure the university also meant, “throwing hurricane-themed parties.”

Personally, I ended up playing beirut for about three days straight and sitting on the Ex’s rooftop watching the so-called storm hit.

Bottom line: aside from some light rain and very minor winds, Isabel wasn’t all that intimidating, and made Hopkins look foolish for canceling classes over almost nothing.

I have a feeling that Irene is going to take a slightly different approach.

She’s already got DC canceling events left and right, and more than a few weekend plans have been changed (my own included).

She’s got Pepco warning residents about power outages and when we get to the Teeter tonight, I’m sure that they’ll be low on bottled water, flashlights, and batteries. Also Irene’s doing.

Sounds like someone’s on a power trip.

But, just in case she decides to make good on her destructive promises, I’ll be hunkered down in my hopefully fairly safe apartment and eating everything that could possible go bad if we lose power.

And wondering if the Chinese place nearby delivers in hurricanes. For a really good tip? It’s worth a shot.

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Everyone has one – at least. That person who’s always down for an adventure (read: stupid, yet super fun, decision), but is also probably most likely to land you in jail. I get to see mine in one week, when I go home for Thanksgiving.

I was talking to Partner in Crime the other morning and she was giving me the update on her life and the goings on in Philly. She told me about the new boyfriend and continued with, “And he has a lot of hot man friends for you! I met one the other day and thought, Ooh, Liebchen would love him!” (God, I love being the token single friend.)

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Champ…

Here’s the thing: this isn’t the first time she’s tried to set me up. Actually, it’s so much more than that; she calls it “bringing me presents.”

Years ago, when I was young and foolish, my birthday happened to coincide with Senior Week. You know, that week at the end of high school when parents pretend they don’t know what goes on at the various beach houses their teens have rented. Yeah, my 18th birthday was that week.

We celebrated with a piñata, Mike’s Hard Lemonade (classy, no?), Jäger shots (ouch), and telling everyone we met that I’d been a hostess at Hooters, and now that I was finally 18, I could be a waitress. (Why did people believe that? Who knows. Maybe because I had the shirt – which was a gift from an ex, no less.)

In any case, it was a stellar night and a memorable (mostly) 18th birthday. But according to PIC, it wasn’t over. I had walked back to our house with some other friends, and when she showed up, she had two boys in tow. She pulled me aside as the blond one looked on.

PIC: “Liebchen, look! I brought you a present!

Me: “Um, what do you mean ‘a present’?

PIC: [pointing to the blond] “Him! He’s for you. For your birthday!

Me: “Thanks, but…I’d really rather go to bed.

Poor guy. I’m pretty sure she sent him home after that.

But who knows what she’ll bring me at Thanksgiving.

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