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Aug. 15th, 2003 12:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
quidditchgrrlI am so terribly glad the power didn't go out here. As much as I dislike the people of my midwestern metropolis, we generally luck out on most major catastropies.
And as much as I like to think of myself as fairly urban, I really, really freak out when the power goes off up here. There is no place to go, everything is dark, and people are scary. The last long-term (i.e. two days, woebetide) outage we had I practically lived at work because I didn't want to go home to an unsecured area. I know, I know. But the unease settles over me almost immediately - the sounds get louder - and I start to think of how many people there are around me, and all these strange scenarios float through my mind.
Back home, you could just light a fire in the trash barrel/fire pit/barbeque grill, have dinner, hang out on the back porch until you got tired, then head in for some rest. No water (electric pump on the well), but if you needed a shower, you could pull in water from a neighbor's pool and wash up with that. And best of all, you didn't have to worry about the cops or curfews or idiots trying to get into your house in the midst of the blackout. You could keep your gun next to the bed. I know, you don't have to point out my rampant paranoia. It's gotten better since moving into the city proper - people here talk to you, unlike the suburbs where folks will blatantly ignore your attempts at friendliness or focus on the wrong thing.
When Honeybunch and I first moved in together (five and a half long years ago), we picked up a couple of rooms in a house in suburban Columbus. Having limited experience with the suburbs since I'd only lived in the north (OSU) campus/Clintonville neighborhoods, I tried to make friends with our neighbors. Oops. They looked at me like I was slug slime and ignored my attempts at conversation. I learned to smile and nod and go on. Unbeknowst to us before we moved in, the owner of the house and his brother had a wee bit of a business selling drugs. Maybe because I had lived in drug-dealing neighborhoods, I just knew an operation when I saw one. Dirty teenagers appear on our front porch and wait for hours for Rich or Dave to come home, people calling/knocking at all hours, loud parties, cocaine all over the living room table. But what do the neighbors complain about? Honeybunch and I have placed an air conditioning unit into a window facing the street. This is unacceptable to the NFL referee and his wife across the street who had won the civic association's landscaping contest. Thank god we got the hell out of there. I am much happier in the city, thanks.
But you know, this is all![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
queerasjohn's fault, he and his nasty band of gays! It's true, the KFCs say so! With just a flick of his glittery purple wand, *poof* all the lights go out. *snerk* Leave it to the Crispies to think up a good reason for the blackouts.
And as much as I like to think of myself as fairly urban, I really, really freak out when the power goes off up here. There is no place to go, everything is dark, and people are scary. The last long-term (i.e. two days, woebetide) outage we had I practically lived at work because I didn't want to go home to an unsecured area. I know, I know. But the unease settles over me almost immediately - the sounds get louder - and I start to think of how many people there are around me, and all these strange scenarios float through my mind.
Back home, you could just light a fire in the trash barrel/fire pit/barbeque grill, have dinner, hang out on the back porch until you got tired, then head in for some rest. No water (electric pump on the well), but if you needed a shower, you could pull in water from a neighbor's pool and wash up with that. And best of all, you didn't have to worry about the cops or curfews or idiots trying to get into your house in the midst of the blackout. You could keep your gun next to the bed. I know, you don't have to point out my rampant paranoia. It's gotten better since moving into the city proper - people here talk to you, unlike the suburbs where folks will blatantly ignore your attempts at friendliness or focus on the wrong thing.
When Honeybunch and I first moved in together (five and a half long years ago), we picked up a couple of rooms in a house in suburban Columbus. Having limited experience with the suburbs since I'd only lived in the north (OSU) campus/Clintonville neighborhoods, I tried to make friends with our neighbors. Oops. They looked at me like I was slug slime and ignored my attempts at conversation. I learned to smile and nod and go on. Unbeknowst to us before we moved in, the owner of the house and his brother had a wee bit of a business selling drugs. Maybe because I had lived in drug-dealing neighborhoods, I just knew an operation when I saw one. Dirty teenagers appear on our front porch and wait for hours for Rich or Dave to come home, people calling/knocking at all hours, loud parties, cocaine all over the living room table. But what do the neighbors complain about? Honeybunch and I have placed an air conditioning unit into a window facing the street. This is unacceptable to the NFL referee and his wife across the street who had won the civic association's landscaping contest. Thank god we got the hell out of there. I am much happier in the city, thanks.
But you know, this is all
queerasjohn's fault, he and his nasty band of gays! It's true, the KFCs say so! With just a flick of his glittery purple wand, *poof* all the lights go out. *snerk* Leave it to the Crispies to think up a good reason for the blackouts.