How to Survive Hurricane Sandy If You Live in the South Or on the West Coast
As we all brace for what will undoubtedly be the worst storm of all time ever in the history of all time over here on the East Coast, those of you in the South, on the West Coast, and in many of the flyover states are going to have to suffer through a couple of days of neglect. Nobody cares about you right now. The political spotlight is on Florida and Ohio, while news channels are all focused on NYC, D.C., Jersey, and even Delaware.
How does it feel to be upstaged by Delaware? Jesus. The San Francisco Giants won the World Series last night, and guess what? Everywhere you turn, there are pictures of the Atlantic City boardwalk. Where's your satisfaction? Why isn't the media throwing you a parade?
Right now, you're probably frustrated. Everywhere you turn -- the television, Twitter, and Facebook -- all anyone is talking about the storm. Even people who live on the periphery of the storm's trajectory are trying to absorb some of that attention. "Oh, it might hit us if it turns in just the right way. We stocked our basement full of whiskey and canned beans just in case."
But you? You're way out in California, or Texas, or Oklahoma. Nobody gives a shit about you today. Your elected officials could go on a rant about how legitimate rapes are actually God's will, and no one will care.
Oh, sure: You could take to Facebook and roll your eyes about how everyone is getting so bent out of shape about some silly old rain. I've already seen some of that today. But everyone will think you're an asshole, because you are. Or, you could send your best wishes to everyone you know on the East Coast, but that's probably going to get old quickly, plus who is going to see it if they're five feet under water with no power? You could surf the Internet all morning, but that's no fun, either. Everyone is talking about Sandy, and gloating because they get the day off (they won't be gloating tonight when they're bored, in the dark, and the battery has run down on all their devices).
So what do you do to preoccupy yourself during the difficult time of neglect? How do you survive when the world doesn't care about you? Here's a few tips:
1) It's OK to cry. -- No one will hear you, and no one will care because we're busy dealing with our own sh*t right now, but if it makes you feel better, be my guest. Or, you could yell, scream and hit something. Temper tantrums are a great way to deal with neglect, but again, they're not that fruitful when no one is paying attention. But you can record yourself and upload it on YouTube after all of this has passed. Label the video, "Narcissistic Jackass Pleading for Some Attention."
2) Go Outside -- Screw everybody else. Unplug. Go outside. Enjoy the sunshine. Quietly count your blessings, but keep it to yourself. We don't care. We're too busy trying to find batteries for our f***king flashlights.
3) Be Selfish -- Bake a cake. Eat all of it. It's OK. It's a tough time for you; you've earned the right to think only of yourself. Sure, there's a storm working its way up the East Coast likely to cause $3 billion in damage and great loss of life, but how could that possibly compare to the devastation of losing your East Coast Words with Friends pal? WHY IS YOUR LIFE SO HARD?
4) Recreate the Storm In Your Home -- Sure, you'll be spared the rain and wind and all the attention that accompanies it, but you could at least simulate the experience. Point your lawn sprinklers at your windows, turn out all the lights in your home, and sit there quietly wondering what the hell you're going to do with no power. Walk outside every hour or so and muse to your neighbors, "Hell of a storm, huh? You need some help boarding up your windows? I've got some canned foods, a battery operated hot plate, and some space in my basement if you want ride out the storm with me." To help pass the time, remove your new basement friend's skin.
5) Turn It Into a Positive -- Watch cable news. Turn it into a drinking game. Every time you see a newscaster fall down because of high winds, DRINK! Whenever a politician attempts to exploit the storm for political gain, DRINK! Every time you hear the word "surge,' DRINK! If someone compares Sandy to Irene, DRINK! Every time you see an Internet post devoted to the guy running shirtless through a storm wearing a horse head, DRINK!
You'll be drunk by noon on the West Coast, and you can spend the entire day sleeping it off. You'll never even know the rest of the country doesn't care about you today.
To everyone else: Stay safe, folks. Power up all your devices, download lots of movies and television shows, and build a fort in your living room made of Halloween candy. When this is all over, you can eat your way out.