Hurricane Irene, just another lazy sunday.

The hurricane that was supposed to rip Manhattan apart ended at about 9 am. Irenes have been known to be flaky, flighty characters. They say they're going to show up, and then the time comes and they bail.
My roommate, Megan, and I headed out to walk around in the storm's wake.
There was not much to see, to be honest.
There was lots of trash on the street, but wait, there is always trash on the street.
There were broken windows in the bar on the corner. Irene? No, those were shattered two weeks ago.
We walked across the Williamsburg Bridge. Lots of people were out and about, enjoying the breezy weather and the feeling of a world put on pause.
Megan was busy being a cool artist and taking pictures of beautiful and interesting things. I took pictures of tourists in ponchos.

Storm's over, guys.

The Williamsburg Bridge has a nice, wide path going across and lots of high barriers to prevent people from going over the edge. (Golden Gate Bridge, take notes.) 

We talked around Williamsburg for a while, being careful to not take too many turns to we didn't get lost. There was a surprising amount of places open, some open even while their windows were boarded up. When there are no subways to take, no jobs to go into, and no storm to hide from, going out drinking and dining is a solid option for many.

Irene-proof windows.

Megan and I took notes of many cute places we want to visit on Bedford Street. We stopped for fruit bowls at a grocery store and then turned around to head home. I wore my rain boots although it was completely unnecessary. So I walked straight into some puddles just to make it worth it.

Still-life, I call it "Fruit and Rainboot."

The way back gave great views of Manhattan against a dreary sky. The swollen river and the clouds were an identical shade of gray.

Oh hello, your highness.

Back to our neighborhood, more storefronts were open and more faces were out bopping around. The streets were slowly gaining speed, but the pace was still comfortingly slow.
Will the subways run before the Monday morning rush? 
Will the storm's damage be the worst in the arena of national debt?
And most importantly, will Starbucks be open tomorrow? 

Only time will tell. In the mean time, I'll be in my apartment playing drinking games with all the water in our emergency storm stockpile.