The number of unexplained bruises on my body is growing. This concerns me, because it means that either I'm sustaining more damage than I'd thought (possible, considering the number of places where my skin is cut & torn) or something's going wrong internally. Possibly both. Hopefully it's nothing to worry about.
There seems to be a lot of media coverage on certain coastal cities, but not a whole lot on neighborhoods like mine. I guess our problems just aren't as sexy. I've seen military helicopters flying overhead since last Tuesday, but not they're Apaches armed to the teeth and flying just above treeline. I'd much rather see troop- and load-bearing choppers bringing MREs, water distillers, and medical assistance. Add in the fact that my brother was packing a shotgun when he made his quick trip, telling me to avoid televised news (advice repeated by Aaron upon his return from Arkansas), and I want a weapon... NOW.
I do appreciate some of the side-effects of all this. No power for miles means less light pollution, so stargazing has been considerably more gratifying. As power slowly returns to nearby towns, it's already fading, sadly. If you've never seen the milky way with the naked eye, you've missed one of the natural wonders of the world, worth a trip to the desert to see.
I've also seen more people on bicycles, and I'm hoping that drivers will begin to think of bicyclists as less odd. And I do tire of the way people tend to treat me as strange for living as though disaster can strike without warning. Now that it has, perhaps some people's attitudes will shift.