Dear Diary,
So, I’m a getting to be a pretty big storm now. So big that I have my own storm warning. The Americans are flipping out, OMG! I mean really, it is sooooooo cool . . .  for me at least. I guess I feel a little bad for scaring people . . . .kinda.

Whatever, it’s like, they don’t even know me. They don’t even know who I am.

And you know what diary? It really hurts.

These people are all, “Ooooooh Frankenstorm” and I’m all, “Hey A-holes! My name is Sandy!”

What jerks. All the other storms get to have the cool names, like “Perfect Storm” or “Storm of the Century.”

Those bitches.

Like, they don’t even know who I am. They don’t even talk to me. We run into each, and they don’t say anything.

Uuuuuuuuughhhhhhh. What DRAMA!!!!

HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT!

Anyways.

So, I’m going to be blowing into Eastern seaboard this week. You know, the usual, stop by and see the changing of the seasons, the leaves, maybe hit up the Boston area for some chowder.

Maybe I’ll make it to New York, catch a show. Oh Oh Ooooooh!! I want to see someone famous and like, kick it Brooklyn. Or whatever it is that’s cool. I don’t know.

But like, I want to be kind of inconspicuous.

I don’t people to be all, “Oh my gosh, how lame, what a tourist.”

I mean, yeah, I don’t think I can stay very long, but I want to blend in a little. Maybe I’ll get a fixie or something, you know, those are kind of everywhere these days.

I’ll look like I own the place.

Heck yes. PBR, Fixie and steal the beanie off some guy.

And then like, later, when they find out, “Ooooh, Sandy’s not from around here you guys,” then they’ll be all, “Awww, but it’s like you were always a part of us.”
Ok diary, I gotta now. Here’s to blowing your skirt up!

Love,

Sandy