I have finally escaped the wilds of northern California and am now back in New York, where I thankfully have electricity but no internet. Good thoughts are with Feministe readers and loved ones who may be less lucky. I did manage to squat at a friend’s house to write my Guardian column, which is about what it means that we anthropomorphize a hurricane into a slutty, bitchy woman:
Sandy was a real bitch.
She was a whore who screwed cities across the eastern seaboard. She can blow real good, but we’re glad she’s gone. She’s sorting the men from the boys. She’s the most important woman in the swing states.