Watching Hurricane Sandy

Virginia Beach is opening shelters starting tomorrow morning. Maybe it means nothing. Maybe it means something.

Locals are nonchalant, going about their normal activities, stocking up on water. Justin is at home on Buxton, waiting it out. For once it seems that Hatteras Island is the safe haven. Apparently normally Virginia Beach is evacuated north, but not this time.

Justin said everyone there is acting like it's another day. Which is good and fine especially if you are well versed in ocean weather. For someone like me, it's a different story. I researched the city, trying to determine if I was in a flood zone. I downloaded evacuation routes and figured where I would go if we had to leave.

I put my car in the Westin's parking garage and plan to leave it there to ride out the storm. I had some very old friends who I met in India offer to have me stay with them and I'm taking them up on it- they're stopping by later tonight for me on their way home. It may be overcautious but I always tell my patients piece of mind is serious- don't apologize for needing it. So I am not going to apologize either. Maybe it will be nothing. But with my supreme ignorance in the situation and of the east coast, I'd rather stay with friends and worry less.

Most storms I've been told are nothing. But then there's that rare Katrina or Irene, or Grace, acts of devastation. As long as the hurricane is still swirling, we don't know what will happen. That's the part that's actually scary. And this storm is moving really slow, which causes more problems.

The extreme east coast weather makes me so homesick for the benign northwest, where drizzles reigned and 10mph gusts were considered wind.

I'll keep you posted. I plan to hang out in Chesapeake, VA for the next two days. It's higher ground than here and comes with great company, my surrogate parents. ;)

(21:33 Justin just wrote and said the ocean was over the road.)

Hurricanes, real and imagined

If you click on this link you can see the storm patterns:  Hurricane Sandy.

Which unsurprisingly makes me wonder why we're living on Hatteras Island, 40 miles into the ocean, known as the graveyard of the Atlantic, where ships went down left and right in the past. And where the hurricanes hit ground more than anywhere else on the eastern seaboard aside from Florida.

Justin texted me last night about the storm, sounding scared. He said, " Nor'easterner storm. Roads might get washed out." I didn't quite understand, saying that I had continuing education scheduled for Monday morning and I could leave after that but wasn't planning to return to leave until Tuesday, and I could meet him after that. Wherever he ended up (Greenville? Raleigh?). He said, "You might not be able to leave if you wait too long."

Apparently Virginia Beach gets hit hard too. Maybe those "Hurricane Evacuation Route" signs are up for a reason. I saw them when I first moved to town. They did not comfort me.

Overnight I dreamed nightmares. Mostly of patients and past employers. I woke up early and exhausted.

This last week I scheduled tightly, trying to see everyone and finish as many things as I could before having no place to stay in Virginia Beach. Truthfully, I've enjoyed this month of band practice Mondays, meetings with old friends, thrift stores and a 5k race at the art museum.

I don't understand hurricanes. I understand snowstorms and wind and floods and drizzling rain. I've seen one tornado despite hundreds and hundreds of warnings growing up.

Hatteras had a devastating hurricane last fall which created a new inlet and and left the lower half of Hatteras Island cut off from the upper half. A ferry had to take them across until a new tiny bridge was constructed.

I checked the radar at work and wondered why we were living on an island. There's only 4,000 year round residents on the whole island and from Buxton it's at least an hour drive on a skinny sandbar to get to the mainland. That is if the road doesn't wash out.

On Facebook today, Hatteras Island residents were complaining over and over about the need for a better road. How the government had been mistreating them by making them put up with the inferior quality of road construction.

I wondered, why do they stay. Why not move inland?

The population in Buxton is almost 100% white. The poverty level is much higher than the rest of the state of North Carolina. There are no jobs. To receive proper medical care, they have to drive 1-3 hours away.

All this to live on a sandbar. Where you dig in the backyard and a foot down there's water.

I wonder how much the ocean has to rise before we are under water?

We can only watch and wait and see.

It is not comforting.

Ghent, a Portland-y neighborhood of Norfolk

 [I found an indoor semi-farmers market today, which had fresh-roasted local coffee, second-hand cheap books, produce, fish, a cafe and other assorted goodies: Five Points Farmer's Market]

 [Scenic Wonders of America was published in 1973.]

[In the bookshop, paying was by the honor system.]

[Cafe Stella]

 [I spent hours reading, sipping coffee, and snapping photos of patrons. They sometimes have live music here and I was asking the owner about it when I was about to leave. After a lovely chat, he asked if I had tried the Paczki (Polish Donut) and I said no, so he took one out and gave it to me.]

 [Finally after two hours, a black lady arrived and an Indian man. 

But otherwise it was pretty damn white in there.]

 [This guy was some sort of professor and complaining about the Dim Sum options in Virginia Beach.]

 [And then I saw a chandelier floating in the sky.]

[Moving a few blocks away to meet up with a friend.]

 [The Birch Bar, which has a ton of brews on tap, as well as bottled beers.]

 [It did not taste coconut-y.]

{{THOUGHTS}}

I have some big ideas in the works which if they come to fruition will be amazing, but they are to sit under the covers for now. I have to contemplate and be patient and let the road lay itself out in front of me. No jumping ahead before the asphalt's down...

Hampton Roads (the collective name for Virginia Beach, Norfolk, Chesapeake, Hampton) is starting to grow on me more and more over time. Wandering through art & thrift stores, meeting nice locals, I find the area full of decent people and surprisingly enough to do. It's all accessible, and traffic is not bad. I wonder should I stay or should I go.

So with five weeks left of employment, I have some options coming to the surface, and ideas for the future. I plan to stay out East, regardless, but will have to figure on location. I've been asking around for suggestions, and if anyone has opinions, feel free to offer up your advice!  

Mount Trashmore

Virginia Beach's Mount Trashmore Park is just what it sounds like: a park created from a pile of compacted trash mixed with soil. It's renowned as an ecological feat. Really crazy! I stopped by after work yesterday to have a run. With a temperature of 72, I was not the only one with that idea. One of my friends who grew up here said they used to be able to go swimming and windsurfing in the water, but it's been closed off for a while. 

 [The "Trash Pile" is actually the hill straight ahead.
It seems "Mount" is a bit of a stretch.]

Shopping malls breed existential crises

This week I've been trying to get myself organized to move to Virginia. I finally opened and repacked every single box in the basement and it looks like a bomb went off down there, but I found everything I want to bring along and dumped it into my room. So now I practically need to wear full body armor to safely make it to my bed which is covered as well... do not be surprised if you soon see a photo of me in a cast from self-inflicted injury.

Government Fun Take II: In the last week, I've been inundated with government forms, though not as bad as the Germany job. That, plus trying to find housing out east from here require a massive amount of time. I may end up in an extended stay for a while and then try to move into a short term roommate situation. I've emailed a lot of potential roommates but have not had much response. Maybe people from Virginia are scared of Iowans.

It snowed here. My mom and I went to the mall today. I figured it was a good idea to rest my back after the heavy labor of yesterday. (I was a little sore.) The mall sounded leisurely but for some reason, I felt like I was going insane and started having suicidal thoughts while looking at the multicolored fleeces in Scheels. Life just seemed so dumb. I know there's no sense to think of these things. I thought, good thing I'm going to work soon.

This place I'm now is a weird spot to be in. To think of starting this new job, because it is temporary, seems like it is prolonging the period of decision making. But that's not really true, since I am going to use this job to evaluate a career with the VA system.

I would like to move somewhere into my own place again with my own things, but I don't think that is going to happen anytime soon. But then I have a feeling if I were moving into a place I might feel a sense of loss at the loss of freedom. So it's better to just enjoy where I am now.