We are at my mother's house in central Mississippi. We bugged out at 1:00 this afternoon, battening down the hatches as best we could and bringing only our dog and our oldest cat, Colm, who requires daily medication. I'm absolutely sick about the ones we left behind, ashamed of having abandoned ship, and doubtful that I will ever see my home again. However, we caved in to pressure from our mothers, who can accomplish what 10,000 e-mails and radio warnings screaming "YOU'RE GONNA DIE!!!!!!!" cannot.

It took us eight hours to drive the approximately 80 miles here and I am exhausted. The only cool part was that as we drove through Bayou Sauvage, we saw about a hundred Magnificent Frigatebirds hovering low over the highway. You seldom see these birds over land unless a hurricane is coming or has just passed. These appeared to be all females and juvies -- I guess the men ride out the storm and send their families inland.

Besides the two animals and a few clothes and toiletries, here is what I brought:

-- My computer.

-- My copy of A Confederacy of Dunces signed by Thelma Toole.

-- My copy of When the Saints Go Marching In signed by Buddy D.

It's at times like these that you find out what you really cherish, I guess.

Fuck.