Some catchup on events long gone--there was a tropical storm that hit the heart (and electric grid) of Texas, so much so that around 2 million Texans were without power. Unfortunately, I was one of those 2 million, which meant that for a week-ish, I had to deal with batteries and flashlights and restless siblings and no A/C. L was constantly berating me with his expressed boredom, interjecting my reading time, and honestly just being a nuisance in general.
It went down as so: a board of scientists (probably those that specialize in Weather; weather-people as a friend would call them) had determined that Texas, our coastal sisters, et. al. were to bear the brunt of a Category One Hurricane, which is, according to said weather-people, the weakest type of hurricane. However, there was a miscalculation made on their part: a miscalculation that it would make itself onto land, and through Science and Such become a Tropical Storm, which is bad and, as proven through how I lived, much too powerful for the infrastructure of Texas. It slayed thousands of power-lines as well as trees, backyard fences, roofing, big trees, and small trees, and whatnot.
Felix Vallotton -- The Wind (1910)
Post-Tropical Storm life was pretty grim. With no electricity due to the strange idea of Texan urban planners to have an electric grid entirely separate from the one that every other American has, 2 million Texans, as mentioned before, were without power and Internet, which meant there was no way to text or call or be online. This was an especially costly blow to my siblings, who spend most of their time texting or calling or being online.
So, thanks to my Dad's girlfriend, 'A' (Let's veer off here, actually. For a while now, I had suspected that my lonely Dad had gotten a girlfriend since the divorce three years ago--it feels like it was just yesterday!--through his church network; my suspicions were a new character that would hang around a lot: 'S'. They would call all the time and were the responsible party for our turtles if we were ever out the house. But now, there's 'A', a character that had just been introduced not even a week ago, that seems to be a loiterer whenever my Dad is home. My suspicions of this new character being the new girlfriend were proven correct when 'L', last week, just flat out asked me if I knew.) allowed my Dad and my two younger siblings to stay at her house because power had come back on two days post-disaster.
I had to stay back at the powerless house, just to be there if it ever decided to resuscitate. 'R' was here too, my other brother. A major 'thorn' though, was that my Mom had left to go to Vietnam for a month (To branch off again, there was an incident at Dad's pre-disaster that led to me having to leave Bree's birthday celebration with her family. I had gotten a phone call mid-candle-blow from Mom, who sounded distraught when I picked up, crying and sputtering about how 'Dad had pulled a camera out when [she] came to pick up 'L' and 'V', and that [she] didn't know what was going on.' So, through my clenched teeth, I opted to drive 40 minutes back to where I had just come from and talk to my Dad about this incident. In short, 'L' was feeling down after some, I'm assuming, harsh banter with his online friends, souring his mood. Because of this, he no longer wanted to see Mom, but she was not made aware of why he didn't. So stuff happens and Dad pulls out his phone camera--he justifies doing so because, in his mind, it would act as a buffer to keep Mom from escalating knowing she was being recorded--and then Mom barges in 'L's bedroom, raises her voice a little, and then leaves after fifteen minutes of not being able to break through to him. Then that's it, she's off to Vietnam.). Conveniently, her vacation in Vietnam started before the storm hit, which meant that because her power went out, I was responsible for its maintenance, which inclines me to certain 'chores': clean out the fridges and freezers of spoiled food, come by every day to see if power ever comes back, and water the plants.
Paul Cox -- Flâneries (2013)
Okay, to be honest, I am getting bored of talking about the tropical storm. In frankness, not much changed in my lifestyle other than charging my phone in the car and finishing off Franny and Zooey by Salinger, which, if you haven't heard, is a delight. It might have impacted how I write a little too much, which almost certainly will stabilize back to normal after a couple weeks of abstinence.
I think I say this every post, but I am so excited for the future of The Rockets. We drafted Sheppard at the third, and he's been paying dividends in the Summer League, dropping 21 points, I believe, whilst displaying sparks of sharp play-making and impressive basketball IQ. Him and Whitmore are going to be cold-blooded killers when the season starts.
