Normality restored.. kinda...

So... we can leave the house now. Nevermind that driving down our road, which usually is pretty close to offroading anyway, is more like a wild African safari now. Been chillin w/ my sister and Andre... he's the closest thing to a childhood friend that I have, so that's been good. Ok, so now that things are returning to normal, I have very little to write about... so I'm going to stop writing... now.

Hurricane aftermath

I hate this hurricane. Remember how I told you that we missed the worst part of things? Ie. The winds, etc? Well, guess what we got instead. Rain. BUCKETS of rain. Now, this might not seem like such a bad thing, but you have to remember two things: 1) we live on a mountain. 2) The mountain is made of dirt. Now, I'm sure that as a child at some point, you played with a hose and a big pile of dirt or sand… Now, I want you to think back to how easily the water cut channels through the mound, taking much of it along for the ride, dumping it all someplace downstream. Remember? Well, "“someplace downstream" turned out to be our TV room. Twice. Having to un-flood and un-mud two rather large rooms in a house during a hurricane is not something I'’d wish on anyone. Especially when both the electricity and water have been locked off. Ever had to go out during a hurricane to your neighbour'’s house in order to catch buckets of water from a trickle running off of their roof so you could mop mud out of your house? Lightning has never been so frightening as when I was completely soaked, standing in a puddle of water, holding a large bucket of water on my head. But then, life'’s an adventure, right? As it stands now, We'’re prisoners in our own house. We have no electricity, no running water, and no way to leave, due to the fact that the road to our neighbourhood opted to wash away. So, I sit here, trying to figure out things to do, with minimal success. Ok, I'm bored of this. later.


*hours later*
Ok, so dad and I went down the road to check out the level of damage... It's crazy what a lot of water can do. at least 30% of the road leading up to our neighborhood was washed away on the cliff side, and in some spots, it's worse. At one spot where water was supposed to pass under the road, the underpass was blocked in the storm, resulting in a river not only washing over the road, but also taking the road along for the ride. But, I really have no room to talk, I'm mostly concerned about what's happenning to people over in Cuba... they took the storm head on at a Category 4, with windspeed in excess of 150 MPH. I hope they're ok..

Hmmmm.. Hurricane Dennis, eh?

So, I'm in the midst of a hurricane at the moment. And I' writing a blog entry. Isn't that wonderful? To be honest, the storm hasn't hit us nearly as badly as we had figured; the eye of the storm (the dead space in the middle that serves as the nucleus) has been pushing north of the island, so the North coast has been getting the worst of it. What that means to us, being that we live halfway up a mountain on the southern side, is that we get a LOT of rain, some amount of wind, and bucketloads of cloud. So some ppl are getting 110 mph winds, while we're getting good weather to fly a really, really big kite. What isn't so much fun, though, is the fact that our roof is leaking like a mofo...



::edit::

Okay... so, it doesn't seem so bad... that is, until you've spent a few minutes outside in it trying to fix things, namely the roof, a flooding problem, and banana trees that have committed suicide into the back yard. I've never seen this volume of rain in my life. Honestly... when I had to go fix a part of the roof, it was under a good 6 inches of water. Given that this was the roof of a 2+ car garage, you can imagine just how much water that is....

OK, ok, fine...

Ok, so you're upset that I haven't posted in a while. Truth be told, I've grown bored of this blog... at least, in its current format. I have to figure out what I want to do with it. And as for the pictures... using Jamaican internet to post pictures is nothign short of torture, so sorry, but you're all going to have to wait until I get back to see the rest of my pics from this summer. ANyhow, I do have *one* thing that i'm going to post... I scribbled this when trapped on a plane to leave Miami, the day after getting back from Europe (15 hours of flying). They needed to repair the plane, but that meant about one and three quarter hours of being locked in a plane with no Air Con, and about 148 other disgruntled Jamaicans. What follows is a transcription of the jumbled mess that I scribbled in a notebook about an your and 15 mins into our entrapment.

"
5:33 EST DST 22.06.05

For the love of God. I'm stuck in this oven of a plane that should have left over an hour ago. me instrumentation in the cockpit neds to be repaired. Yay. Downside? Power's been switched off. Translation? NO DAMN AIR.

Over 100 people in a plane, no air circulation. This is what hell would be like for smaller sins, like making fun of midgets, or hating babies. Not too bad, not unbearable, but bad enought that you'd kill yourelf at least every two hours or so. How bad is it when Jack Johnson won't calm you down? My jeans are stuck to my legs.
"

Woah, I wrote that?

Venice, beyotch

Venice. The very sound of the word conjures up images of murky waterways, gondoliers, accordion music floating on airways, and an almost magical atmosphere. -And I am happy to report that save for a few minor discrepancies, what you grew up believing really is true. When we finally arrived at the Venice airport pursuant to a very long fight from Miami to Paris, we were more than relived to be surrendered to our own devices, where, for the first time in over eight hours, we actually had the power to get ourselves lost on foreign soil. We somehow managed to grab a taxi, although the gentleman made it quite clear that his car, being unable to float, would not be capable of taking us to your hotel. We were, instead, taken to a sort of transportation hub, a meeting place of taxis, buses, and water busses and water taxis. Bewildered and sleep deprived, we purchased tickets on a water bus, hoping to land somewhat near to our hotel. Taking a water bus is an experience that cannot be locked down by sheer vernacular. You really have to experience it. You cruise down the main waterways of Venice, your life in the hands of a clearly expert captain, one who takes you from port to port with a strong, steady, albeit rough hand. People constantly embark and disembark, rude Italian children make their presence painfully felt, and confused tourists try their best to “go with the flow.” The feeling is magical, albeit polluted, as you chug past gondolas, water taxis, gorgeous private craft, and utility boats carrying anything from fresh wet cement to an entire nightclub’s worth of drink. You see, there are absolutely no cars in Venice. Yep, you heard right… no cars. Everything is done by foot through the winding, meandering “Calles,” or via waterways. If you have a chance, you should really take a look at a detailed map of the area, I’m sure that you’ll find it intriguing.

We spent most of the day as a family walking around, happily following a somewhat systematic route, then getting lost, then finding ourselves, then walking in a huge circle somehow, then finding another landmark half on purpose, then getting lost again… There seems to be a very different pace of life here. There are a number of “sects” of locals, ranging from the smelly “I don’t care” sort to the “I know every couture designer personally” type. I have to admit that having been here, I really do understand Ginos whole lot more. Sad, but true. Sadly, the family day of meandering and being attacked by the paternal paparazzi had to come to a close, seeing as how no-one had really slept on the flight over, and jet lag can be one confusing experience. So, I took the family back to the hotel, deposited them in their various rooms and beds, and took off to see what Venice had to offer me. And guess what that was? Nothing. That’s right… Venice, as far as I could make out, is a rather boring city. I have no idea what the locals do to keep from going completely senile, but if it’s fun, they’re definitely keeping it a big secret. I walked around for an hour, trying little back alleys and random bridges over waterways, but all I found was the same old crap, tourist attractions and shops. Yes, the architecture is gorgeous, but for the love of god…

After the hour of ambling and drinking mineral water, I got tired of the pursuit of what I clearly couldn’t find, so I hunted down a nice waterfront restaurant with a free table up front, and ordered a small bottle of Cabernet. I figured, if things were going to be slow and boring, I’d slap it all in the face, and make it slow and interesting. So, I spent an hour people watching, swirling my glass of wine, and getting to know the guy across the way who was selling prints of oil paintings by way of body language. At least I speak that… He seemed equally as bored, but he’d clearly had more practice at the art of sitting around than I did. As I sipped my sweet but full wine, I watched the sun slowly set over the channel, the throngs of tour groups catch their water busses to wherever, and the elderly folks’ attire quickly switch gears from comfortably casual to casually (I use this word very liberally) elegant. Oh, to have an Italian sense of style… and wardrobe… wow. I mean, really.. where can I get a D&G Beachwear bag? Why not me??? I want that!!!  So here I am, back in my hotel room, eagerly anticipating both deep, deep sleep, and boarding of the ship tomorrow. More to come.

And now the fun stuff: Pictures!!!
The trip, and Venice by [very early] morning.

Hello, photo....

The first photo gallery of the summer is up! Check it out here

Demolition Derby

What is it about a car accident that freaks you right out? Nothing big has happened, fate willing… just two big mobile chunks of metal bumping into one another, possibly leaving the scene with a dented fender or some foreign paint. And yet, we panic, behave irrationally, and assume that the other party involved is going to behave like a complete animal.

I pulled out from a red light the other day, nothing any different from any other day, except that it had been raining, and so the road was a little bit wet. I was in high spirits; it was my second day home in Jamaica, the second day of what was to be a glorious holiday of travelling, relaxing, and spending time with my family, something that I hadn’t done in a long time. Not 30 seconds after having crossed the intersection, I noticed a white car pulling out into my lane from behind a bus, no more than six feet away from me. Annoyed, I slammed my hand on the horn, and my foot on the brake, while directing the car to the far left hand side of the road (we drive on the left here), in order to avoid any trouble. What happened next still amazes me. The woman driving the ill-fated 1999 Toyota Corolla didn’t hesitate for a second. I doubt that she even looked up. Instead, she continued to roll her P.O.S. car right into my lane, leaving me no recourse but to slide right into her left front fender. Who does that? Who hears a blaring horn coming from the lane that they’re pulling into, which, I might add, has full right of way, and ignores it? Anyhow. I wish I could spin some theatrical tale about the aftermath, but the fact of the matter is that we pulled off into the nearest driveway, which, ironically, belonged to an auto body shop, where we exchanged words, and more importantly, information. She has sworn that she will pay for all repairs, etc., but time will tell on that one. In the meanwhile, we have an SUV with a slightly pushed in front right corner, and a non-working indicator. More annoying, than anything. “Are you hurt?” “No, but my mom’s car is….” Gotta love it. I know, nothing spectacular, but how often do you have an accident, have someone admit that it was their fault, offer to pay for everything, and call the very next day to follow up? Life is a funny thing.

Oh well... nothing that a little Jack Johnson and Mary J. by moonlight won't fix... ;D