Ironically my late brother was named Ian, and I imagine the title phrase has been said out loud, oh, a thousand times. But nevermind that, for now.
This is about the namesake hurricane.
This freaks me the fuck out: my best friend in the whole world, someone I have loved for decades, lives just about under where that cluster of rainbow spaghetti hits FLA, and I really, really do not like that.
I know there are a million people who may get clobbered if Ian hooks more north and west, and i’m sorry, but I don’t care. I can only care about the few people I truly love, and I need them to stay safe.
I know, no hope or thought or prayer will turn a hurricane; it’s all goddamn physics. But animal brain still says force of will can turn this thing, and if I have anything, it’s force of will.
