Exile

Where to fucking start?

We went to the Saints game Friday night, right? And thing were already looking ominous by the time we got home. Saturday we cleaned, and packed, and I had my fantasy football draft. Things got nervouser and nervouser as the day went on. I was in bed by midnight, and we were up at four Sunday morning. The traffic wasn't bad, and we were in Memphis by noon.

Since then we've been watching Fox News obsessively, waiting for a glimpse of familiar places. John has spent lots of time with my family and he's loving it. We went out drinking with Siobhan and Cordelia and some of their friends who fled to Memphis. It made things a bit better.

Sonya's parents are out of town on vacation. We've just moved in and made ourselves at home. It's a pleasant suburban life except for the third world pictures on the TV and the constant, nagging thought that almost all our worldly possessions are adrift in ten feet of poo-water.

The news is pretty good coming out of the neighborhood, though. All we have is forum posts from nola.com and an occasional passing mention to go on, but everything we've heard about our neighborhood suggests that there's no looting, the damage from the storm isn't bad, and there's no flooding. Still, we may not get to go back for months. Things are kind of up in the air right now.

But we're safe. And much better off than lots of people.