Right now, I'm comfortably settled in the law library, and there are approximately 14 inches of snow on the ground. Snowpocalypse Janus hit Long Island and NYC yesterday, causing massive chaos and panic throughout the region. Attempting to make the drive home yesterday was one of the most physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausting experiences I've ever had in my life, so much so that I think I might still be running primarily on adrenaline now.
In the morning, everything was fine - until the snow started 3 hours earlier than predicted. By noon, the media and public officials were telling everyone to get home ASAP, because the worst of the storm would be upon us soon, and travel would be extremely hazardous. Of course, the NYC and Long Island region is hugely populated, and millions of people commute back and forth to work every day. In fact, so many people commute back and forth that rush hour in the region, occuring in both the morning and in the evening, can be up to four hours long each rush, because of severe overcrowding of the roadways and public transport. So yesterday, all at once, you had not groups of commuters on the road (people who generally leave their workplaces at different times during the normal rush hours), but ALL commuters on the road. Literally everyone in the area decided they'd better head home at the same time. Most of the main roads were sanded and/or salted in the morning, but snow was coming down at the rate of over an inch an hour. Temperatures were well below freezing, and the roads filled so quickly and cars had to move so slowly that it actually felt like the apocalypse was occuring. My boyfriend's home, which is normally a relatively quick 10-20 minute drive from my school, took me over 90 minutes to reach. Traffic on the parkway going towards his house moved at an average rate of about 7 miles an hour. Cars were sliding out and getting stuck all over the place, and I passed accident after accident on the way.
After stopping at my boyfriend's house to check the traffic reports and the weather, I figured out an alternate route home. I got back in my car, and it was honestly like the world was ending. Two hours later, I'd only made it about two miles from his house, and I hadn't even managed to average a mile an hour the entire way. I stopped at the Container Store just to get myself out of the car and calm down; the radio had announced that two of the nearby parkways were closed due to accidents, and the weather was steadily getting worse. My parents, both frantic, kept trying to get in touch with me. My father suggested staying in a hotel, but everything I'd really need for an overnight stay was at home: my phone charger, my medications, etc. My father's girlfriend's house was about another two miles away, and we decided that I'd try to get there, and either my father would try to come get me later or bring me some stuff, if the roads weren't going to be passable for my small car. It took me almost two hours to get to my father's girlfriends house, but thankfully, I made it there safely.
Normally, I spend a maximum of two hours driving in the car per day. By the time I arrived at my father's girlfriend's house, I'd spent a total of five hours driving my car through snow, ice, and stand-still traffic. I was so glad to be someplace warm where I could rest and try to relax.
For the next few hours, I monitored traffic cameras, traffic maps, and attempted to figure out what to do. At around 9 o'clock, the roads were finally clear enough that I was able to go home, driving less than 35 mph the whole way. I don't think I'd ever been happier in my entire life to be home. There were many times in the car yesterday that I wondered if I would even get home; I worried that I'd run out of gas, spin out, get in an accident, have the car break down, break down myself, not be able to physically endure the demands of driving due to my EDS - it was terrifying.
I am so grateful that I made it home in one piece. I am not grateful for the mass hysteria induced by the media and public figures, or for the utter failure of anyone to predict how bad the storm would get so early. Realistically, by the time anyone revised the time that the storm would be the worst, we were all screwed, because it was a race against the clock to get home before then - and no one could. We were all out in the worst parts of the storm, simply because someone got the weather report wrong... and then scared us all into heading out exactly when we should have been sheltering in place.
I think I need a nap.
Showing posts with label new york. Show all posts
Showing posts with label new york. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
Still Processing
At the moment, I should really be doing my reading for Trusts and Estates, but as it's been a day full of a whirlwind of emotions for me, I wanted to take some time out to talk about what today is to me.
Twelve years ago, as I was sitting in my morning homeroom class, I had no idea that my life was about to change. It was, for all intents and purposes, a routine, sunny day that would be spent in class; the school year had started only recently, and I probably wasn't thinking about anything in particular. As the day drew on, it became clear that something was amiss - there was an announcement made over the loudspeaker that teachers were not to turn on classroom TVs under any circumstances, and the phones started ringing in all the classrooms, calling to let lots of students know that their parents had arrived to pick them up. I found out some time around lunch what had happened.
Today, twelve years after that day, I'm still trying to process what happened to me and the people around me because of what we bore witness to. Every year there are memorials held, moments of silence conducted, news articles written, and speeches made about remembering, about the importance of not forgetting what happened to us - as individuals, as people, as a nation. Frankly, this confuses me, because even though I was fortunate enough not to have been in Manhattan that day or to have lost anyone close to me as a result of the terrorist attack, I still lost a lot that day - and part of me would do anything to forget.
I think about the events of September 11, 2001 almost every day, sometimes multiple times daily. I feel uneasy every time I see the a digital clock that reading 9:11. I live near a small, private airport, as well as within 50 miles of two major airports, and I get the same feeling every time I see or hear a plane. I constantly wonder if it's flying too low, if there's a chance it could crash into a home or a business or a landmark or the cars near and around me on the highway. When I'm inside my house and hear the roaring of an airplane engine, I feel a pressing need to look out the window and make sure everything's okay - that I am still safe, that it isn't about to rip through my window. On the anniversary of the attacks, every year, I feel guilty. I feel like if I don't say anything about it, if I go about my daily business, if I allow it to be a normal day, I am somehow disrespecting the horrors suffered by others as a result of those events. I feel like I can't let myself be happy today, because somehow that would mean I'm forgetting, and forgetting isn't allowed.
For the first time since the events of September 11th, I'm in one of the boroughs of New York City on the anniversary of that day. I go to school here now, and I can't just miss class, but today has been... especially stressful. On the drive in, all I could think about was if it was really safe to be driving into the city. I worried about the risk of repeat attacks, and what I would do if the local county borders were closed, like some were on that day. I wondered about the advisability of studying on the floor of the library I prefer today - it's several floors up, and I wonder if that's safe; if I could get downstairs fast enough in the case of an emergency. I feel like there's almost a haze over reality today, like something crazy could happen, and I wouldn't be at all surprised. I am on edge.
I had several relatives in NYC when the attacks took place. Each and every time we've gathered as a family since then, they talk about their experiences. It's like they're stuck in an infinite loop of repetition - they can't stop talking about it, and they can't really talk about anything else. I've heard a hundred times about how transportation was shut down. I've heard a hundred times that the city was in a panic, because no one knew what was happening. I've heard a hundred times that my aunt, who was home after emergency eye surgery, though she was dreaming when she first saw the tower on the news, how she later found out that the building she worked in, WTC 7, was destroyed after being hit from the debris flying off of WTC 1 and 2. I've heard a hundred times about my aunt's partner arriving home late that evening, having walked over the Brooklyn Bridge covered in ash, having witnessed people jumping to their death from the towers, choosing not to spend their last seconds huddled in a death trap, knowing their fate had been sealed.
I would do anything to be able to forget 9/11. I don't want to remember the horrors, I don't want to remember the feelings of vulnerability, I don't want to remember the sick, twisted events that took away whatever remained of my childhood, I don't want to remember the stress I still feel every day, on a subconscious level, because of those events. I just don't. Is that so bad?
Twelve years ago, as I was sitting in my morning homeroom class, I had no idea that my life was about to change. It was, for all intents and purposes, a routine, sunny day that would be spent in class; the school year had started only recently, and I probably wasn't thinking about anything in particular. As the day drew on, it became clear that something was amiss - there was an announcement made over the loudspeaker that teachers were not to turn on classroom TVs under any circumstances, and the phones started ringing in all the classrooms, calling to let lots of students know that their parents had arrived to pick them up. I found out some time around lunch what had happened.
Today, twelve years after that day, I'm still trying to process what happened to me and the people around me because of what we bore witness to. Every year there are memorials held, moments of silence conducted, news articles written, and speeches made about remembering, about the importance of not forgetting what happened to us - as individuals, as people, as a nation. Frankly, this confuses me, because even though I was fortunate enough not to have been in Manhattan that day or to have lost anyone close to me as a result of the terrorist attack, I still lost a lot that day - and part of me would do anything to forget.
I think about the events of September 11, 2001 almost every day, sometimes multiple times daily. I feel uneasy every time I see the a digital clock that reading 9:11. I live near a small, private airport, as well as within 50 miles of two major airports, and I get the same feeling every time I see or hear a plane. I constantly wonder if it's flying too low, if there's a chance it could crash into a home or a business or a landmark or the cars near and around me on the highway. When I'm inside my house and hear the roaring of an airplane engine, I feel a pressing need to look out the window and make sure everything's okay - that I am still safe, that it isn't about to rip through my window. On the anniversary of the attacks, every year, I feel guilty. I feel like if I don't say anything about it, if I go about my daily business, if I allow it to be a normal day, I am somehow disrespecting the horrors suffered by others as a result of those events. I feel like I can't let myself be happy today, because somehow that would mean I'm forgetting, and forgetting isn't allowed.
For the first time since the events of September 11th, I'm in one of the boroughs of New York City on the anniversary of that day. I go to school here now, and I can't just miss class, but today has been... especially stressful. On the drive in, all I could think about was if it was really safe to be driving into the city. I worried about the risk of repeat attacks, and what I would do if the local county borders were closed, like some were on that day. I wondered about the advisability of studying on the floor of the library I prefer today - it's several floors up, and I wonder if that's safe; if I could get downstairs fast enough in the case of an emergency. I feel like there's almost a haze over reality today, like something crazy could happen, and I wouldn't be at all surprised. I am on edge.
I had several relatives in NYC when the attacks took place. Each and every time we've gathered as a family since then, they talk about their experiences. It's like they're stuck in an infinite loop of repetition - they can't stop talking about it, and they can't really talk about anything else. I've heard a hundred times about how transportation was shut down. I've heard a hundred times that the city was in a panic, because no one knew what was happening. I've heard a hundred times that my aunt, who was home after emergency eye surgery, though she was dreaming when she first saw the tower on the news, how she later found out that the building she worked in, WTC 7, was destroyed after being hit from the debris flying off of WTC 1 and 2. I've heard a hundred times about my aunt's partner arriving home late that evening, having walked over the Brooklyn Bridge covered in ash, having witnessed people jumping to their death from the towers, choosing not to spend their last seconds huddled in a death trap, knowing their fate had been sealed.
I would do anything to be able to forget 9/11. I don't want to remember the horrors, I don't want to remember the feelings of vulnerability, I don't want to remember the sick, twisted events that took away whatever remained of my childhood, I don't want to remember the stress I still feel every day, on a subconscious level, because of those events. I just don't. Is that so bad?
Monday, September 2, 2013
Summer Adventures
Happy Labor Day! The unofficial end of summer is bittersweet; I love the fall (I was an autumn baby) and all it brings, but this summer has been amazing, so I can't help but be a little sad to see it go.
For a while now, I have had the worst case of wanderlust. I want to go everywhere and see everything; I want to explore the world. However, because of some medical issues and finances (law school is expensive), I can't really go very far from home. I'm hoping that'll change in the future, but this summer, I needed a way to sate my lust. As it turns out, local adventuring was the way to go.
One of my favorite trips was out for lunch on the Nautical Mile in Freeport. We went to a really dive-y place known as Jeremy's Ale House, and when I say dive-y, I mean there were bras hanging from the ceiling and everything was served on paper or styrofoam. But the food was out of this world! Like, seriously, I'm still craving the Cajun breaded fried shrimp we got; it was hands down THE best shrimp I'd ever had. The Manhattan clam chowder was phenomenal, as was the fried calamari legs starter that we got - every piece was perfectly cooked. The food was extremely reasonably priced to boot, and we're definitely going back soon.
I also headed off the Island into the Bronx for the day a few weeks ago, to explore the Bronx Zoo. I've been going there since I was a little girl; my aunts used to take my sister and I out there for the day. We always got home exhausted from all of the walking, but since I can no longer walk those sorts of distances, I rented a wheelchair after we arrived. We spent a lot of time at the tiger exhibit and got to see a snow leopard the zoo is borrowing from zoo in Pakistan, plus (obviously) a whole bunch of other animals. My favorite animal at the zoo didn't seem to be feeling very social that day, unfortunately. He was hiding so that you couldn't really see his face, but... I still love red pandas.
Other places we went this summer included Robert Moses State Park (where we were surprised by a deer running across the beach at sunset), Crab Meadow Beach (for a first birthday party), Bayard Cutting Arboretum (where we saw a huge snapping turtle and baby swans), Heckscher State Park, Clark Botanical Gardens, the Hicksville Gregory Museum (which had dinosaur eggs and lots of fossils), and the Gibson-Mack-Holt House (where I crazily found my father's original newborn picture - I had no idea they got the pictures from the hospital he was born in).
On Saturday, I rounded out my summer by hitting the Labor Day Sales at a local outlet center... which just happened to be holding a free summer concert series. We decided to stay for the last concert, which featured Owl City.
For a while now, I have had the worst case of wanderlust. I want to go everywhere and see everything; I want to explore the world. However, because of some medical issues and finances (law school is expensive), I can't really go very far from home. I'm hoping that'll change in the future, but this summer, I needed a way to sate my lust. As it turns out, local adventuring was the way to go.
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| Bayard Cutting Arboretum in Great River |
Long Island, where I live, is rich in history, culture, and surprisingly affordable things to do. The surrounding area is great too; it just tends to be a lot more expensive, especially in terms of travel costs. (Parking costs in NYC can be really high, and the last time I took the train into Manhattan about six months ago, it was $16 for a round-trip ticket. That doesn't include transportation once you get into the City, admission fees, or food costs, if you spend the day.) I decided to devote my summer to finding mostly free and cheap (and local) things for my boyfriend and I to do, and I think I did pretty well. This summer, we went all over.
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| "Butterfly Zoo"at the Main Street Nursery in Huntington |
Our adventures started on Memorial Day with the Jones Beach Air Show. If you've never seen an air show before, it's basically a bunch of planes doing lots of different types of stunts - flying in formation, skywriting, flying upside-down, etc. It's the type of thing you don't normally see outside of military movies. This air show had both civilian and military people in the air, but unfortunately, no one from the U.S. military this year due to spending cuts.
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| Air Show at Jones Beach |
Over the 4th of July weekend, besides going to the beach, we went to Belmont Lake State Park for paddle-boating. It was gorgeous out on the lake, and I had a lot of fun. Paddle-boating is particularly awesome for me because it's something I can do even with my crazy joints; the way the boat is structured, it offloads the pressure on my ankles. Thankfully, the boat's also really simple to guide through the water.
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| On the water at Belmont Lake State Park in Babylon |
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| Fried shrimp OF MY DREAMS! from Jeremy's Ale House in Freeport |
I also headed off the Island into the Bronx for the day a few weeks ago, to explore the Bronx Zoo. I've been going there since I was a little girl; my aunts used to take my sister and I out there for the day. We always got home exhausted from all of the walking, but since I can no longer walk those sorts of distances, I rented a wheelchair after we arrived. We spent a lot of time at the tiger exhibit and got to see a snow leopard the zoo is borrowing from zoo in Pakistan, plus (obviously) a whole bunch of other animals. My favorite animal at the zoo didn't seem to be feeling very social that day, unfortunately. He was hiding so that you couldn't really see his face, but... I still love red pandas.
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| C.V. Starr Tiger Valley at the Bronx Zoo |
Other places we went this summer included Robert Moses State Park (where we were surprised by a deer running across the beach at sunset), Crab Meadow Beach (for a first birthday party), Bayard Cutting Arboretum (where we saw a huge snapping turtle and baby swans), Heckscher State Park, Clark Botanical Gardens, the Hicksville Gregory Museum (which had dinosaur eggs and lots of fossils), and the Gibson-Mack-Holt House (where I crazily found my father's original newborn picture - I had no idea they got the pictures from the hospital he was born in).
On Saturday, I rounded out my summer by hitting the Labor Day Sales at a local outlet center... which just happened to be holding a free summer concert series. We decided to stay for the last concert, which featured Owl City.
 |
| Owl City performing a free Labor Day Weekend concert in Deer Park |
All in all, it's been a fantastic summer. What did you do/where did you go this summer? Did you get to travel, either just locally or far, far away?
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