And I've never approved of Ike as a real name either. While most of my family and my friends and their families came away from Ike with relative minor damage (no electricity, boiling water, minor flood damage, fences knocked down, chimney splits in two, roof peeled up in the corner, roof ripped off, 50+ year-old trees completely gone, cars crushed, etc., etc., etc.), some people got really sucker-punched.
As I've mentioned before I'm natural disaster sensitive. I blame Katrina. Ever since those first dreams of floods, every tornado, earthquake, tsunami, and gentle breeze that got media coverage has made its way into my nightmares. Ike is no exception. I'm declaring today that the nightmares will stop. I will no longer dream about drifting out to sea on a leftover piece of roof, about cats being stranded in trees, and a building crashing in around me while I'm attempting to call my mother (now a recurring nightmare). I'm declaring myself free from these horrors.
While I'm in the dream-demanding mood, I'll take a few more about Brad Pitt, thank you very much.
And yet another casualty of Ike? My dear Astros. May they kick some Pirate ass! (And may the Phillies kick some Marlin ass (two birds and all), the Braves some Mets ass, and the Reds some Brewers ass. Whew. That's a lot of teams to count on at one time...