You Can Watch the Hurricane, Or...

I am trying to avoid camping out in front of the Weather Channel and feeding into their hurricane-for-ratings manipulation. You know how they do it: the sensationalistic teasers, the breathless commentators making it sound as though a projectile piece house is just seconds away from flying into their forehead (even though it's currently just raining out), and the ominous horror movie music at every break.

I just won't do it. I'm just as worried as everyone else is but I won't do it.

For this tiny moment, I'm choosing to laugh at the fashion foibles of celebrities instead (http://gofugyourself.typepad.com/), because it makes me feel better for buying those gorgeous cowboy boots whose current status as "wildly fashionable" and "really cool" was probably conferred by no other cultural influence than "The Dukes Of Hazzard." I swear to God that this JUST OCCURRED TO ME, and it's too late to take them back. I already wore them twice.

Go ye and laugh. Now that I know that every day of this final week off is going to be rainy, I'm choosing to laugh. I could go park at the beach and cry, but I'm going to laugh. And put things on my cat.