Earlier, Elise and I ran

Earlier, Elise and I ran through the rain and into JFK. The airport. She had to catch her flight home. Her third flight home.

Frances' early hype got Elise out of Florida and here with me.

Frances' slow-going attitude--pension for hovering over Florida--cancelled her Monday morning flight back.

Frances rained on New England like New England has never known today.

Today was epic. Today was a flooded out bumper to bumper disaster and all we could do was laugh. As we sat in traffic for four hours. As we drove south beside the barricaded northern lanes of the Hutchinson Parkway... the northern lanes filled--flooded--to the top of these barricades, five feet deep, as tall as a car. Any second the wall could break apart and wash us off the road.

As Elise missed her newly rescheduled flight by more than two hours.

So I should probably thank the hurricane for all that it's done for her and I. For grounding her twice over... keeping her here longer and longer. For bringing her here in the first place.

The airline--Song--had to be so damn helpful and get her on the next flight this afternoon, no trouble at all. And so our good bad luck ran out and she actually had to get on a plane. We became one of those disgusting airline couples. The ones that make you want to puke because it's so damn beautiful.

That said, it's Wednesday again, so the site is updated. They can't all be happy. They can't all be "Emily stories."