Sandy: Spared and not Spooked

I am very grateful and relieved to relay that my little Attic, building, and neighborhood were spared most of the ravishes of the hurricane (aka FrankenStorm aka Superstorm aka the Sno'eastercane) known as Sandy.

Although I was up in CT visiting ye old homestead, Grumpa Max, Jenn, Wendy and Ms. Emily, the forecast was dire enough that plans were cut short so I could return to NY, unload my rental car, return it, and get on one of the last MetroNorth trains before the system was frozen. I was able to get all my emergency supplies of candles, soda, bread, and Diet Coke tucked away next to the food storage tins Dad brought East from the land of the 72 hour kits, fill the bathtub, make sure the freezer was full of ice, have the cooler ready next to the water supply, and to sit and wait to see what Mother Nature would wrought.

I even took pictures of the local river and highway so I could do before and after shots. In previous storms, the river has flooded the highway and trees have come down. 

The Bronx River

Having prepared as much as I could, I 'hunkered' in. The most scary part in the early stages was making sure that Dad was able to fly out of Hartford and back to Vegas. His was one of the last flights out Monday morning, much to everyone's relief. Especially his. (Next time, I believe he will be packing more than just a trip's worth of medication -- WON'T YOU DAD!?)

The waiting is what begins to get on your nerves. The pressure literally plays havoc with your brain. I had the worst migraine until about 9 p.m. on Monday - the day we got the brunt of it. However, I have learned one of the best things to do is actually turn off the television and radio for the most part, and to use common sense. Don't go outside. Don't go near the windows. Take all the potentially flying debris out of Mother Nature's way. Prepare. Be Calm. Carry on. Then don't be stupid when things look to be over. Stuff actually is more dangerous in the 6-36 hours afterward.

I can't say that all of my neighbors quite get this. The stupid upstairs neighbors, they of the illegal fire-escape Christmas lights, still hadn't taken them down, from last year, and they were unfastening in the wind, swinging down, and BANGING on my windows until I went up and pounded on their door and told them that I was going to pull them off if they didn't freakin' take them down -- HOURS into the hurricane winds. STUPID STUPID STUPID! I am still annoyed at the upstairs stomping neighbors, but I was more 'understanding' of the people on my floor. Understanding enough to be prepared to be the Crazy Craft Community Children's Entertainer for the 5 kids of varying ages on my floor if the power had gone out. When talking to one of my little neighbors, I asked what she was going to do if the power went out. She didn't know. She doesn't like to read. She didn't have games or puzzles, so she was just charging her iPod and hoping. Now ... Please. That's just ridiculous. I remember being her age in a hurricane and being shut in, but I knew how to entertain myself then, and now! I said fine and told her and her mom I had a plan. If the power went out, I had scissors, paper, pens, stamps, stamp pads, yarns, and stuffing, and we'd set up in the hall under the emergency flood lights with candles and have craft time. We'd make Christmas cards, work on snowflakes for our doors (we always have a "contest"), learn how to crochet, and make it a party -- thus entertaining the kids, charging their imagination, distracting them, giving them and their parents a break. I am kind of relieved it didn't come to it, but I know if it does, I  ... need more crafting supplies to be part of the storm prep, as well as batteries and candles.

Luckily, although we had some scary power flickers, we never lost cable, the Internet, or power. I was able to text, tweet, e-mail, and call people all day and through today. The winds were crazy, but the rain and winds have been worse for other storms. I also don't live near the ocean and am far enough inland that we were spared. I only found out tonight about how lucky this building was -- the one right next door is without power. Let's hear it for post-WWII brick low-rises. They may shake and sway in the wind, but for this storm at least, she held together.

I can't say the same for some of my NYC colleagues' situations. I'm sure the newscasts and photos don't do it justice. I know that some people of certain ages (those 20 somethings) had absolutely NO idea what to do with themselves when the power was out, or how to prepare, or how to deal with things even now. This may have been their first hurricane, now that I think about it. A lot of them lost power. Many are stuck in Brooklyn, Queens, and lower Manhattan with no way, for now, to get to work. (They may, or may not, be unhappy about this.)

I did venture out on Tuesday to assess. The river didn't overflow it's banks and the highways (as far south as I could see) have no trees down on the roads. The only real damage to my neck of the woods was in our strip mall. The main CVS sign is gone. The Dunkin' Donuts was closed so none of the local cops could stock up, even though the Starbucks was open. The 7Eleven was out of important things like chips, bread, and ice, and the papers couldn't get delivered, but the guys were calm, cruising through Lotto ticket sales, and charging people's cell phones and mobile devices.

School for the local and NYC kids was cancelled through the week. The Big J was closed for classes and staff on Monday and Tuesday. By today, classes were cancelled but staff were encouraged to get in if they could.

WHICH WAS/IS RIDICULOUS 

The NYC transit system is a mess! Luckily I commute through mid-Town and the Upper West Side which was spared, but the transit system wasn't even beginning to assess until late today. People did try to drive in, which apparently TOOK HOURS.

I spoke with my supervisors as early as Sunday and basically said I was going to work from home, as I could, until the situation stabilized, with a guesstimate of Friday ... maybe ... trying to get back. Guess what? I was right. I *might* deign to go to the office on Friday, but given that most of my work is in a database or e-mail? Welcome to the 21st century; I'm working from home!

Once things calm down I will be talking to my database colleague about our emergency back-up plan, for the server and the back-up of the back-up. The organization got lucky this time. We might not be next time. We're not that many blocks from the Hudson River and just lucky it "surged" mostly down-town and not that far in-land.

The only major bummer for the neighborhood kids was the apparent town curfew. This sign appeared on one of the doors on our floor. (Yes, the typo is driving me absolutely crazy.)

Which was too bad. There were some cute decorations put up in anticipation of Halloween. Mine is the one on the left -- all from my trash/recycling.

Usually I dress up as Ms. I'm-not-home or The Grumpy Neighbor Lady Who Doesn't Answer the Door. This year, since the kids knew I was home, I had to come up with a costume and go buy some candy, since I didn't think they wanted apples and/or granola bars. I did have a stash of Cyclops hats,

and then I remembered I had this t-shirt from years and careers past.

So I was a Scary Children's Librarian - threatening to SHUSH or hand out apples but really handing out NERDS to those kids who wanted candy. I purposely bought the NERDS. I figured I might as well give into the stereotype. I had one 10 year old lace-clad-goth-vampy girl that I intentionally gave the apple to and said, "Use this and say you are the cover of the Twilight novel." Luckily she hadn't read it, but the mom totally got the reference. Which is fine. I think 10 is still too young for the first Twilight novel. Why set her up for disappointment? Edward is .... well, let's not get into that right now. (Go Team Jacob! or something, I like The Host the most.)

Had I had more time, these are what I wanted to get together for my trick or treaters. I saw these at a bake sale/craft fair in Chelsea when I was running around earlier this month, and of course, wanted to "borrow" the idea. Clear catering gloves, some Tootsie rolls, M&Ms, Swedish Fish, and microwave popcorn. Healthy, unique and creepy. NEXT YEAR!

So that was my experience with Sandy. Lots of prep, lots of supplies, luckily no loss of power, life, or limb, and a few days off and then working from home. I am very very very fortunate indeed.

Please extend your prayers to those snow bound, or those further south in New Jersey and part of New York City, and up into New England, that were ravished by rain, floods, and fires. They will need your thoughts in the days ahead.

As for me, I will be giving blood at a blood drive on Friday (pre-scheduled, but now urgently needed), taking brownies into thank some of the MTA information/technical crew that hasn't been home since Sunday, and possibly donating some perishable supplies to a local food bank.

Be prepared.
Be smart.
Be calm.
And
Be a Good Neighbor.

For more on hurricane preparedness, please refer to this information prepared by the Red Cross at:
http://www.redcross.org/prepare/disaster/hurricane

I will also be browsing the aisles at Paintball, Food Storage, Violins and More in St. George a little more carefully this coming Christmas vacation.

I (Don't Necessarily) Got Rhythm!

Once upon a time, I was a tiny dancer.

A tiny TAP dancer.

Yes. You may laugh.

I understand the impulse. Go ahead. Get it out of your system.

I still can't quite believe it either.

I give my mother credit for making sure that we were exposed to various activities when we were kids. Library story time, church, pre-school, swim lessons, etc. Growing up where I did, there weren't that many options, but there was a dance studio not far from our house, close enough that Mom could walk us downtown, with the stroller for little brother(s), and get us out of the house in the afternoon. It was a milestone to be able to walk there on my own when I got older. But only rarely, even then.

I thought I was hot stuff. I had lessons. My church classmates did not. I had tap shoes. Tutus. Tights. It was big time stuff.

It was a right of passage to be in the dance recitals and to have class pictures taken with your group, down at the local photo studio on the Main Street strip. (Of course, at some point, my mother is going to chime in and correct me about dates and locations -- and she's welcome to.)

Some of those photos and programs were preserved by my archivist mother. And, for my sins, I am going to share them.

On the Internet. For others to see.

As part of recording my legacy for the descendants.

(And - since this is a milestone year of sharing photos, I've already crossed into murky waters about photo sharing anyway, so why stop now?)

To get through this trying entry, I'm going to default to the family practice of SHS: Sarcasm. Humor. Snark. (This is different from SHD: Sarcasm. Humor. Denial, which some still suffer from in the family. A LOT!) {Editors' note: There's also a bit of SA aka self-actualization thrown in to boot.}

Besides, there are so many things hysterically right and wrong with these photos, I have to snark.

In chronological order, mid-1970s to 1980

Me: Hey - check out this guy to my left. He thinks he's a star or something.
Him: Get me out of here.
Some of the other girls: Don't look at us. We're shy. Look how we've already perfected the tucking our chins into our shoulders to peer up coyly at the camera.
Him: Seriously. Get me out of here.
Me again - but from the future: I actually love this tutu and the polka dots, but I think I'm missing the matching ribbons for my tap shoes. *Shuffle kick down to detention!*
Next year or so...

That boy's father has surely put him on a peewee football team, having yanked him out of dance class. It was the 1970s. In Utah for cripes sake! It's fine for a year or two, but beyond that? [Oh No Sirreebob (who was Sir Ree Bob anyway?) Not my son!]

Look carefully. If this wasn't the '70s and in Utah, some of those tiny dancers would be suitable candidates for Toddlers and Tiaras. Look at the HAIR! See the sass!

Me: We're all No. 1. But my mama told me it wasn't polite to point. So why are we doing this? Also, that girl next to me? Isn't wearing the right colored tights. *Tsk-tsk*
Next year or so ... c. 1979

Uh oh. The class size is down by a third. But that's okay. Our hair volume makes up for the missing people. Blame Ms. Farrah Fawcett. We lived for the Aquanet.

Me, from the future: Why are we posing like this? This is not a pose that relates to any of our steps. Also, why is that girl on the end choking herself? (Look closely, she is!)
Seriously. It's very hard to not think some disturbing thoughts about this studio photographer. I mean --- look at the next photo.... There are so many.things.wrong.with.these.poses! Why are little girls being asked to pose like this at all?

Deep breath

Some snarking aside. Here's a serious bit folks.

I've had this last photo in my possession the longest. It's been in a frame in my parents' possession or mine, since it was taken. In recent years, it's been up on a shelf in my studio, beckoning me to gaze into the past and into how my childhood has shaped me. I've used it as an internal measure for how old I was when I started to realize things about body perception, body issues, body shapes, etc. Ages 6-8 - if actually not younger than that.

I was only 8 here.
It's my recollections -- however true or false -- that I was always first on, last out, and/or the apex of formations, because I was the "biggest." Looking back, it was more because I was one of the taller, if not tallest girls, in my classes, but I internalized this to mean fattest. Let's examine the picture. I'm not really any bigger than some of my classmates. It was just unfortunately that height and width started to phase me out of standard costumes and certain words ("biggest") started to trigger something realizations in me. Add to the fact that I wasn't as coordinated or nimble as the instructors and I thought I should be, and I started to get body conscious.

I think you can tell I'm not happy in this photo. I'm not grinning as freely as in previous pictures, nor certainly as unconsciously as I am at Audrey's house later that summer. (Check out her birthday photo on the 11th!)
Now that I think about it, it's also pretty telling that in all the 1980 summer journal entries have I not once mentioned that I missed dance lessons. I started taking piano a couple years before this time, so the activities overlapped, but I only ever mentioned piano.

We moved to CT later in the summer of 1980 and things were much more expensive on the East Coast, not to mention, not so geographically easy for me or the family to get to for lessons. Piano and new friends took over whatever hole might have been in my social and artistic calendar. But I can truthfully say, I was once a dancer! I've got the programs and photos as proof.

According to the programs saved by Mom from this period, I went from a Pink Duckling in 1975 (at 3, almost 4ish); to dancing in pieces called "Boy Oh Boy Oh Boy! It's Christmas" and "A Present for Mommy" in for the Christmas program in 1977. The Jubilation in 1978 featured me in two selections "Dancing is my Bag" and "Dynomite;" while "Time for a Happy Dance" and "Time for a Hoedown" were my ensemble contributions to the 1979 production. What turned out to be my dancing swan song, (pun intended) included the "Disco Queens," "Pom Pom Girls," and "Cane Cuties" -- works that were not part of the original Coppelia, which was what this production was based around.

Notably, my brother Jed was in two works in this 1980 production: "W.O.W.E.E." and "Ducks" and I SO would have included those pictures if I had them in my possession. I can't remember if this was the recital where he wore the sequined gold vest and gold lamé (wow, what a difference an accent will make for that word) dance pants, but I think it was. He was so cute - especially with the large rouged circles on his cheeks.

More serious stuff ahead

Now that I'm supposedly more "mature," and my nieces and nephews are out in the world, I am so conscious about how I interact with them - especially when it comes to photographs, adjectives, and positive reinforcement. It's been over 30+ years, but I still can flash to the feelings of sadness, inadequacy, and wanting to be invisible that have shaped my perception of self - even to this day, all triggered by careless words, misinterpretations, social and peer pressures, or grown-ups good-naturedly, but often misguidedly, trying to help out a little fledgling trying to find her wings. I may have just been in the wrong pond with the swans, when I should have been over with the ducks and geese, but I had to find my way there myself. As a culture we're more aware now about many of these issues and how they impact our youth, but let me tell you, we need to be conscious about them when the kids are even younger than we think. They imprint on the funniest things ... and they remember much more than we give them credit for.

As for me, I've closed the chapter completely now on my dancing past. As part of the sorting and archiving of the programs and pictures that were included in this post, I've filed it away in its proper place. I took the frame off the shelf. I've removed the photo from behind the glass. I've given away the frame. That tiny dancer is archived now with her other past selves. She was who she needed to be at that time and should not, and shall not, influence who I am now. This doesn't mean I'm going to be any more happy about being photographed, or exactly pleased with the shape of things, but the outline of who I am, past, present, and future, should be more of who I perceive myself to be on the inside - rather than the outside.

When you comment here - be kind. When you talk to a kid - be kind. Be real. Use your words carefully.

I'm intentionally posting this in the week leading up to the annual Savvy Auntie celebrations. One of the contributors on the website has written an article about how to talk to your nieces (and nephews) about body image. So appropriate.

Listen. Be Open. Be Real.

Exit Stage Right

Curtain down

Spooky Adventures of The Shushing Librarian

It was a dark and stormy night when first The Shushing Librarian

approached her computer to start looking for Halloween costume ideas.

She was a little fuzzy on ideas as she began to type and click away on many a search engine.

Should she be a rotund mermaid, with flowing hair of green and iridescent scales?

She surely didn't want to wear a bathing costume like this guy she saw on Cape Cod.

The Shushing Librarian does not snorkel, and wearing flippers makes it hard to trick-or-treat.

She did like the idea of going as a royal princess, but this Knight Crusader was stonily silent when approached for feedback on the idea.

Likewise, this gargoyle just shrugged off the question of what Ms. S.L. should be for Halloween.

She usually isn't such a Scaredy Cat,

but the thought of not having a good costume put a deep fear in her bones.

It's a hair-raising experience -- this Halloween Costume hunting.

If you don't know HOOOOO to ask,

you can end up with something so obscure, that no one understands.

(Hello, I'm a Cyclon. A Toaster?! Ya know? Cylon = Toaster! Get it?)

Or worse ... People alter a perfectly good costume and make it obscene. NUTS!

(Look carefully, you'll get it in a minute or two.)

Exhausted, The Shushing Librarian decided to pack it in,

and go trick-or-treating as her own blue, androgynous self aka The Super Information Specialist, mild-mannered librarian by day, Super Shusher all the the time.

It's a dream come true:

Death by Chocolate

** Sorry about the lack of focus on this post. Chalk it up to too much sugar and the slow death throes of Auntie Nettie's Nikon Coolpix. The lens motor is going, and the autofocus doesn't work so well anymore.

OR, it's a Ghost in The Machine - Mu HAHAHAHAHA!