open up


dirt devil


crazy eyes

Last night, Pat and I got deals on lower level Diamonbacks tickets … basically half off WAHOO … so he took the train in and met me at the bar around the corner from work for happy hour, all the while the iPhones were alarming every 15 minutes to update applephiles about the oncoming dust storm. These alarms have happened at work before – every one’s phones will start shaking and honking – and it’s these moments you realize you are not alone in owning an iPhone, that, in fact, every one has one and you are part of this horrible technological machine (deja-vu-is-the-matrix-talking) BUT I WANT MY MUSIC AND INSTAGRAM AND WORK EMAIL (no, I don’t) AND TWITTER AND CANDY CRUSH AND WHAT IF I GET LOST?! Did I mention I love my phone?
Anyway … we’ve had dust storm warnings before, but they’ve petered out right before they hit the city. So we drank our beers slowly, enjoyed some half-priced apps and thought nothing of the warning … until the sky suddenly turned brown, the flags started twerking on poles and each other, plants and garbage sprinted down the street and my only thought was: I have to be outside right now.

There’s a difference between a dust storm and a haboob just like there’s a difference between a tropical storm and a hurricane. But I like how “haboob” sounds, so I pretty much use it whenever I can. Pat has complained incessantly about the monsoon season calling it a complete failure and I keep telling him he can’t talk shit about mother nature because she’ll either smite you in a giant storm or spite you and not storm at all. You have to be patient. You have to let her do her thing. And she sure did … The giant lightning strikes over the city, the thunder rattling high rises, the grit in my teeth and eyes, a sky gradually unleashing rain like an animal it could no longer control: Pat was walking to the stadium so fast, while I stood in the middle of deserted streets. Rach, c’mon! he kept yelling and smiling and ducking with the lightning. But sometimes a girl wants to feel like Dorothy, put her hands up and let a haboob take her where a haboob’s gonna take her.

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