Come On Irene

I've prepared for this storm as much as I feel is necessary (I bought a bunch of junk food and went to the liquor store, see above), and now I'm just looking forward to a Sunday Funday. The power might go out, so I've got some candles (actually, my roommate already had about 10,000 tea lights for some unknown reason), but it probably won't. Unlike me, everyone else in the city is FREAKING OUT, due in large part to the sensationalism of the news media, and I feel like I'm taking crazy pills. I went to the store just to buy orange juice (for cocktails) and Doritos (for deliciousness), and everyone there looked at me like I'm an idiot. I want to make a t-shirt that says "I have lived through 15+ hurricanes, I know what I'm doing, you assholes." Maybe I'm being a little cavalier here, but mostly I think I'm just being right. I win. I win the hurricane. Back off.
Also, a note to New Yorkers: It'll most likely be a Cat 1 by the time it gets here. The water is too cool up here to sustain a massive storm, so you can stop rehearsing for your news interview when you describe the atrocities of a storm that was basically just a windy rainstorm. This isn't Katrina, calm down.
A friend of my roommate's is having a "Come on Irene" hurricane party, which I thought was terribly clever (hence the name of this post), and now I have this damn song in my head and I think you should, too. Enjoy! Come on Eileen, Dexy's Midnight Runners.