First thing you do

Make friends with the people in contracts.
They're harried, they're overwhelmed, and everyone is telling them that THEIR request is priority.

This gal--she was easy to make friends with. And she made my life much nicer and easier.

Inside

See these people?
See those cables overhead?
(Hear those fire engines?)

Or,

Start with a weak physical infrastructure and then make it worse by adding more people.

I know it sounds easy from the armchair, but I am really curious to learn more about how they picked this building for the command center. It's big, but that's about all it has going for it.

This is Bridger

Bridger was one of my main peeps in Baton Rouge. We sat next to each other until he was reassigned to another unit. In his place they put a desk fan, which was much less satisfying than sitting next to Bridger.

Bridger always, always looked clean and neat. And on top of that, nice, nice nice.

Ladies of America--meet Bridger!

Meet Anna

Anna was rescued by Erin's neighbor, a vet who was on VMAT. This little puppy's mother had been chained to a fence and drowned (perhaps her owners thought they would be back soon--who knows), and all the littermates were dead. Except this one.

Welcome, Anna. You are a little fluffy ray of hope and reminder of good things and good people.

The Red Cross can help you

Because we sure as hell can't.

...and then I dropped my wallet in the toilet

When we got back to the EOC and got back into the building, I rushed up to the infirmary to get my wallet and cell phone, which I had left behind in my haste to get out of there, and also to make the bed I'd jumped out of to get out of there.

I got my stuff, dodged the infirmary staff and their new age music, and went to wash my hands (a constant, constant activity).

And, dropped my wallet into the toilet.

My life just kept getting better!

The night before the last day

I didn't know my last day in Baton Rouge would be the next day. So, I'll back up and tell you how it turned into the last day.

By telling you the day before the last day.

My last post while in Baton Rouge was one of being incredibly tired. I lay awake all night thinking I'd contracted typhoid because I was sweating -- all night. As it turned out, they were just adjusting the air conditioning and on top of that, they'd gotten to capacity in the tents.

I did have a respiratory infection starting, but at the root of it was exhaustion. When I finally saw the doctor--who, I swear, was an angel, but I think that was my fever--she said I was suffering from exhaustion and she didn't want to discharge me from the infirmiry. Now, who, I ask you, wants to say they came to work at a disaster and got "exhaustion." How lame does that sound?

So, I left the infirmary and returned to Buddy's phone list, only to return to the infirmary two hours later because I practically fell down on my keister. So, they made me lay down and listen to some really annoying new age music, and halfway into my "nap" (I could not relax and there were some guys on DMORT talking in the next cubicle and that was distracting), or about half an hour later, the nurse came and told me I had to leave because the building was being evacuated. No need to tell me twice, I got up and joined the line of people getting the hell out of there.

Out in the parking lot, I saw Rick, and we went looking for Brian and Bridger, who were in Brian's air conditioning. It was about 110 degrees out there. We found them and decided to take a little drive because there was no way we were getting back into the building any time soon.

Hey, let's go see some of Baton Rouge! We were excited for about thirty seconds, but Rick was so anal about sticking around for one of his endless conference calls, that we couldn't go far (love ya, Ricky :) ) and also, there was nothing to see on our part of town but lots of boarded up buildings and sad faces.

But, what was that blinking ahead in the distance? Could it be... a Burger King? We pulled into the BK for some cokes. While in line, I excused myself to go to the ladies.

In stall one was a BK employee, sitting on the stall, smoking a cigarette while talking on the phone. Ok. In stall two, no toilet paper. I ask the smoking lady for some, and she hands me a slightly sodden handful of paper. Yuuckkkk. I turn around to wash my hands and the sink is full of VOMIT.

There is no health department. No one cares. The woman gets up and leaves without washing her hands. (how could she?). I leave and tell the guys--we have got to get out of here. They complain. They want their cokes. They didn't see it. Please don't tell them. Everyone is tired. No one has the energy to be disgusted.

This, my friends, is America also.

Inside the briefing room

I thought this was funny. I was in the briefing room, watching the briefing, and to the right of the speaker--there he was on CNN!

(I'm easily amused.)

My Krew is dismantling

So sad. So sad. No time left to even fedex them some supplies.

Buddybuddybuddybuddybuddy is still there, mail overflowing, but my four man team is OUT!

I called this morning on my way to work, driving in comfort (I should have been biking or bussing, but oh well), drinking my Starbucks, and I got ahold of Brian (I swear--you must have ten phones), and he told me that:

-they were in the parking lot because of a(nother) electrical fire
-his car would not start and they were boiling
-Rick was super pissed because he was supposed to be on a conference call and had stalked off to his own car
-Bridger was still fresh and lovely.

Dreamweaver is leaving two days early so he can rest up for his big job interview with Lynn Swann for Governor (and as Dreamweaver says, to be the first african american president of the united states). If he doesn't get the job, I will be (a) shocked, and (b) I will eat an entire bag of gummi bears in his honor. Good luck, Dreamweaver--you are a shoe in. We'll talk about that whole republican thing, later.

Dudes, I miss you!

The plane trip from hell

Actually, it was the plane trip from HELL.

All of the lines I've never stood in were waiting for me on this trip. At the airport in BR, I was "selected" to be searched. (Don't you love how those morons say you've been "selected.). I was also selected in Dallas.

From BR to Dallas, I sat next to someone who wanted to dump all over the relief efforts.

From Dallas to Portland (I almost missed my plane because I was laying down on the carpet in the waiting room talking to my sister on Maui and they called my name--last call!)--I sat in front of three people who never-shut-up. For four hours. They talked--loudly--the entire time. Every minute. Every second. Every second of every minute. I shoved toilet paper in my ears, but it did nothing to shush the sound of three real estate agents talking about:

-which island in the Bahamas was best
-which beach in the Bahamas was best
-where they were staying next week in Vegas
-a lengthy comparison of the hotels in Vegas
-their favorite restaurants
-their home remodels
-their kids and husbands
-how much they liked each other
-how one of their clients gave them a $1,000 dollar bottle of wine
-who had a better 700 SF bathroom
-(hit repeat)

I wanted to cry.

What's that smell?

It's not my shoes, which do indeed still smell.

No, this is even worse. I think that my little baby Dorothy peed on this sweatshirt while I was gone.

Why is it that in the last week I have either smelled like stinky feet, B.O. or cat pee. Why? Why? Why?

B Dawg

Dawg number 1 reporting for duty. My anonymity from the "Heavy hearts" post was apparently shortlived.

Today is quiet in BR, which is good because I didn't sleep well. When I got back to Camp Circus Circus last night, someone had stolen my cot! I grumpily (and with a bit of a buzz from the bar) grabbed a cot a few down and rendezvoused with Mr. Sandman.

About 3 in the morning I apparently woke up to visit the Porta-Potty, and in my sleepy stupor returned to my cot -- following the path that 10 days here had programmed me to follow. To my old cot! In an effort to jump into my old cot I landed on the new inhabitant. Lots of yelling and confusion before I returned to my new spot.

This morning I woke up and looked over at him and said, "Hey buddy - you stole my cot." He apologized and said, "Are you the guy that jumped on me in the middle of the night?" I had completely forgotten about it -- mortifying.

That's all for now -- SB I'm glad your return went well and you have your coffee and you have your dog. We'll give you a call tonight!

Dawgs to the Rescue

First of all, I would like to introduce my dawgs--dawgs to the rescue. They are joining the writing of this blog as time allows. After all, now that I'm back in Portland, it doesn't make much sense to be writing about Baton Rouge because I'm not there!

I am, in fact, at home, in my cozy dining room, sipping a hot Starbucks from down the street.

I'm turning the blog over to the dawgs and they will keep us informed.

Shoes that don't fit and a heavy heart

I have been tasked with something, and I don't think I'm quite up to it. But first, some vital information here -- this isn't Sarah.

I know from the onset that I am stepping into shoes that are WAY too big for me. Sarah is a much better righter than I'll ever be. (The righter was a joke, I swear.) And I step into these too-big shoes, in which I'm sure I'll stumble, with a heavy heart. Because Sarah Bott has left Baton Rouge!

That's right - the Bott has left BR. She's on her way to Portland, and FEMA and the PIO division is worse off for it.

I'm going to take my heavy heart and plod home in these new shoes that don't fit, to return tomorrow to plug away some more and attempt a decent "Two Weeks in Baton Rouge" post.

So, til tomorrow. Happy travels Sarah!!

Goodbye Baton Rouge

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. And now I'm home in Portland. Wow--just yesterday I was working in the comand center, and today I was in Baton Rouge and tonight I am home.

I took a shower and didn't worry about getting gross stuff on my feet. My poochie is right here with me, and I'm sure Otis and Dorothy are somewhere.

More later on Two Weeks in Baton Rouge.

I have to go to bed. In my bed. My comfortable, private bed. When I wake up, I'll have coffee--good coffee. In my comfortable, private little home.

Love,
Sarah

This morning at 3:30 am

I finally got up. I was up all night, tossing and turning. I could not sleep. Circus Circus is getting a little old. It's also getting very crowded. I don't want to be complaining, because there are a lot of people out there making do. And it is what it is. And there aren't a lot of options, and no great options. But it's very dusty, and the dust is getting into my respiratory system, I think. Or, I'm coming down with a cold. I'm paranoid about getting sick now, because I HAVE TO FINISH THE PHONE LIST!!!! Also, because I don't want to get sick.

Anyway, I was up all night with a scratchy throat and an earache, and I could hear the sounds of the tent--zippers opening, the squeaks of people turning on their cots, the occasional murmur. And I was sweating all night. I couldn't figure out if the air conditioning wasn't working and it was humid, or if I had contracted some terrible illness. With the sore throat and earache, I was wondering. So, I kept drinking water and I also had to get up and pee three times. 3:30 was the last time, and I thought, crap, I'm just going to get up and go to the office.

During my three visits to the port-o-potties, I noticed that they are beginning to smell. Add it all up and I'm going to look around at the other options. The thing I don't like most of all is the dust. I am not a dust person.

Always smiling cheerfully

These guys are great! They go back and forth, back and forth, back and forth all day long. They move things. They move things. They move things. They always smile and say hi. I like them.

First stop

When you get lost, you can stop by the "help desk," where these gals will be glad to provide you with guidance. Sometimes they advise you to fill out forms. Sometimes they say they don't know. Sometimes they just smile and say hi and that makes you feel better. Often, I've observed, they have flowers at their desk. I imagine a lot of the young swains of the EOC loiter around the help desk.

Some of the nice people working here

On my travels to and fro around the building, I've made the acquaintance of some really nice people. And, much to my delight, Elmo!

Forget it, you're not getting a hotel room.

This is the sign posted at billeting--which is in the travel section. Everyone starts out there hoping they can get a hotel room. Ha ha ha. And then they find out it's Circus Circus or a gym floor or, worst of all, here in this building!!! Which, peculiarly enough, some people like. Or, rather, prefer.

Buddy is a big fat liar

After he sweetly told me I was only going to work on the phone list (ahem), he gave me another task and a stack of papers that involved tracking down six laptops and filling out a check-off list for each of them, and who they got signed out to.

While doing this and leaning over Marty's laptop (Marty is Buddy's boss' boss) to check his serial number, and I observed that I STINK!!!! PEEEU!!!! And I thought, how great, I hope Marty can't tell I am not wearing deodorant.

So anyway, while I was downstairs for some reason, I told someone I needed deodorant and they let me take a chunk of their Secret (which is "women's deodorant"). Here it is. I brought it upstairs and applied it with a tissue. I feel slightly less stinky now.

BuddyBuddyBuddyBuddyBuddy

I am truly amazed by this guy. He is managing a mind boggling juggling act. And, he has only lost his cool once or twice when people have started to "act crazy and pushy." Buddy is pressing the accelerator on this team, getting things moving. He is handling so many things, and I could never in ten million years imagine doing his job. And yesterday he had to pull someone from the field because I think they started to get a little nutsy from the stress, and I heard him talking to her in a soft and calm voice about how he was going to get her rested and back out into the field, and she started to get rather emotional about it, and he just handled her with kid gloves.

This morning, I was late because I overslept and then I went to the store and then I got stuck in a traffic jam and the phone rang and it was him, and I panicked and said, "Buddy I'm sorry I'm running late" (I thought he was going to yell at me) and he said, very nicely--"I'm just checking in to make sure you're ok." And I swear--how does he have the time to do this? He can't walk six inches without someone grabbing him for something.

Anyway, he has a very high capacity for handling stuff.

BuddyBuddyBuddyBuddyBuddy

Things are looking up!

First, off, we have Dreamweaver software. Second, Brian won $40 in videopoker last night. Which will certainly help out in case he got shortchanged in any way in my grifters scheme to bring food and treats to the JIC.

Second, I washed my jammies last night and even though it was a production in itself that I don't have time to go into right now, I got it done.

I slept like a rock within a rock. In fact, I slept so hard that I didn't even wake up until 6:30 am, which is late, and when I opened my eyes and looked around, everyone was gone except for this one poor lady who looked like she was never going to wake up.

I got showered without dropping anything on the floor, and in fact I was able to let a new person know about not to put anything on the ground. This gal had put her entire backpack on the floor of the shower and I said--oh my god, don't do that! And another woman, a nurse, said "Consider this place to be a De-Con unit." And if that doesn't gross you out, I don't know what does. Anyway, it was nice to have a quasi-non disastrous shower experience this morning.

My shoes STINK. I have been wearing the same tennis shoes for days, and my feet are sweating. Did I mention it's 90 degrees outside? So, I absolutely need to get some new shoes and/or foot powder. My shoes smell so bad that when I took them off and put them under my "accessory cot" last night, I could smell them. I have never ever ever ever in my entire life had smelly feet.

I also stink--I forgot my underarm deordorant, and despite four trips to the store, I have not gotten any new deodorant. So, I stink, I have stunk, and I probably will continue to stink. I'm not sure anyone has noticed or cares. They all stink, too.

My job assignment today is SOLELY to update the phone list of the public affairs unit. We need to know where people are coming from, how long they are here for, what their various cell and land lines are, and when they are leaving. The list keeps expanding. This is not a glamorous task, but it's an important task, and it is my only task. I gave Buddy back the requisition and tracking stuff monkey.

ALERT ALERT ALERT--someone just asked me, "Did you see Letterman last night?" UM, HELLLLLLOOOOO--what planet are you from? We're staying on cots in tents and tents and tents under a bridge in the middle of nowhereville outside of town. There is no tv. There is no Lettman. There is no newespaper. There is no nothing. He must have just gotten here.

Dreamweaver isn't coming.

Heerrrreess Ronnie! Ripping the guy in the next state who is the latest weak link in the chain.

Why is this recovery effort taking so long!?!?!

Ho ho, gentle reader. My, is it already 7:00? I simply must dash. I have to go buy a new book and get a laundry basket.

Hmmm. Is he or isn't he?

This guy walked into our area yesterday and he looked so much like Elvis--with this big, I mean BIG bouffant hairdo and these super 70 clothes--we all started sniggering into our fists and our coffee. All at the same time. Man, it was so bad. Anyway, he showed up again today and Catherine posed discreetly in front of him. He looks less Elvisy in this picture than in real life, but right down to the vinyl shoes, this guy is Elvis.

A sight I always find amusing

This is the hole in the wall around the corner from the bathrooms in this wing. (You know, the ones that no longer work). Sometimes when I need a laugh I just walk over here and look at this wall. I will never complain about my office space again.

How many credits is this class?

I find this enitre situation so fascinating, on so many different levels. I am working with about one percent of this entire response, which is so big I just don't even know what's going on in the rest of it at all. This afternoon, while checking on the bathroom situation (we now have one functional women's room--four toilets) and discovered an entire wing I didn't even know existed, full of people busily doing things.

I have spent all day trying to track down and produce one fricking package of software, which is now "lost" in FedEx land. Brian can't do his job. Rick now has email--which is major, but now I need to figure out where his headset is. Ronnie just said--"Look, it's four o'clock and I haven't eaten all day and I'm not dealing with this right now." And I just got all excited because I got a call from the Planning department and they wanted to know if I still wanted that big blow up of the org chart. I did! And I was thinking on the way back, GOD, I am spending all day here for three days and what am I doing???? What am I accomplishing??? Very little, actually. I mean, everything--getting anything--is a big deal. Nothing is easy. Everything is a quagmire. More and more people are arriving. The bathrooms are shutting down. And I do feel a bit discouraged this afternoon. It's 5:30 and my next task is at 7, when a couple of us are going to drive out to another housing site to see if it's better than Circus Circus. It takes 45 minutes to get there--maybe, and there are no showers on site, but evidently it has some advantages over Circus Circus. It's just hard to fathom how anything can get done under these circumstances. I know people are waving the big blame wand around, but when the responders can't get email or software or go to the bathroom or get a good nights sleep, you can see why things take so long.

This is an education like no other. You know, I came into this place, thinking I was going to bring some skills and so far, my skills seem to be buying coffee, running to Whole Foods, bugging the crap out of Ronnie, and making a poster size org chart. Oh, and giving wine to a lady who lost her luggage.

OH my god oh my god oh my GOD!

Great news! Rick's email is working!!!!

Where's my software?

This is Ronnie. He is ordering all the software and half of everything else we ask for. As you can see from this photo, Ronnie is one harried dude.

Ronnie just informed me that Brian's software for the website that was supposed to be here by noon by FedEx, is still not here because FedEx is having plane problems or something. It's 4:00 now. Poor Brian. Poor Ricky. Poor everyone.

The view from my desk

Buddy, Jim, Brian, and half of Ricky's face.

This sounds like a joke, but it's not...

Today I saw, right here in this very building, a rabbi dressed in army fatigues and wearing a yamulke; a hare krishna, and a catholic priest (I can spot that collar a mile away!).

Alarming news!

Someone said the cool bathroom I just found has been SHUT DOWN!!!!! That makes FOUR broken restrooms in this building. Everyone is very upset, and by everyone, I mean me and Bridger.

What a comfort...

I hope Tom Cruise is here so I can personally tell him how dispicable and insensitive I thought his comments to Brooke Shields about postpartum depression were.

Bring lots of vitamins, Tom, to cure all these folks of their depression from losing everything they own, including family members and pets!

This is my boss. His name is Buddy.

But I call him, BuddyBuddyBuddyBuddyBuddy.

Welcome to the Emergency Operations Center!

Main Street at Circus Circus

Showers

Welcome to Base Camp Circus Circus!

Two gals at Circus Circus

The gal on the left showed up last night -- NO LUGGAGE (lost) and she was crying. So they sent her to me!!!! I hooked her up with a comfy plast-irondac chair that I "requisitioned" from somewhere and after awhile, we were joined by the gal on the right, who just showed up at camp, and after awhile, smiles all around.

We need someone who can shoot video

The hubub in our unit this morning is about trying to find someone who can shoot video. The "strike team" is still doing rescues at one of the parishes in New Orleans and they need a video person. Everyone is either already out or not available or don't have the right equipment or I don't know. There is one person who just came last night but her drivers license has been suspended so she can't drive out there and they can't afford an escort for her.

Buddy said some of the parishes have calmed down and they don't need to worry about shootings. Shootings! I can't believe it. Can you believe it?

Speaking of shootings, they boarded up the glass windows here at the EOC yesterday. I noticed when I was leaving. Evidently, someone was shooting at the building yesterday. Who knew? Jeez!

A nice hot shower is a good thing

And I have to remember that, because the people who are staying in this building--and I honestly do not know why they would want to sleep on a concrete floor under fluorescent lights down the hall from where they just spent the whole day and half the night. But I digress.

One of the luxuries at Base Camp Circus Circus is hot showers. It's getting more crowded there, though, so this morning, when I woke up a little early, I decided to get up and get in the showers before they were either swamped (the floors get very wet) or there was a line. It was about 4:30. And I also wanted to get here early so I could see if I could post some pictures (not yet, sorry). But I digress.

The showers are set up--five or six in one container. Those big shipping containers--that's either what they are or what they look like. They seemed spacious at first, but when I started showering in there, I realized the challenges. The floor is wet--like half an inch of water. And you have to get undressed without getting your clothes wet, find a place to put your clean and dry stuff, and get you supplies out of your kit and into the shower. It's tricky. It really does make me think of trying to take a shower in a port o potty because there's no room and you don't want to touch anything (especially since people remind you that the other people taking showers are covered with the real crud of the response--they come from the morgue, from the muck in New Orleans, from treating sick pets, sick people, etc.) So you really, really don't want to touch anything.

So this morning, I shuffle over in my jammies, get undressed and into the shower, take my shower, get out, and SHIT--my jammies fell off the chair I reluctantly put them on, and were in the water. So now I have to wash these things because they are wet and contaminated with god knows what, or nothing at all, but who wants to guess. And even though I cooed over the laundry machines when I arrived, now I think, I don't have time to do laundry--what the hell? Oh well.

In the immortal words of Babe, the pig, La la la la la la la.

A moral dilemma I don't have

(By the way, I just won $5 from the guy in Research, who was trying to tell me that "dillema" was spelled "dilemna." I said, "Not in Oregon it's not." And we bet $5 and, obviously I won.) But I digress. This was not my moral dilemma.

As I was driving to the EOC this morning, I crossed the bridge over the Mississippi River and looked down at a Marriott down below, and I wondered if I had a room down there if I would keep it secret to myself, or if I would tell other people and share it. That is, would I maintain a private little space, which is virtually non-existent here, or would I try to make it slightly better for two or three others. And if I had that room, who would I tell--who would I share it with?

This reminded me of the "If I win Powerball" dillemma. How much would I keep, how much would I share and with whom.

That's what it's come to after on Day 4. I now equate a hotel room (and all that it implies--a real bed, a television set, a door that closes, privacy, no mosquitoes, etc.) with winning $70 million in PowerBall.

Peculiar sight number 17

Last night I stopped at the mini mart on the way back to Circus Circus, and when I was in line (gabbing on the phone to Miss Carolyn Lee), I noticed that the person bagging the groceries was wearing a Baton Rouge sherriff's deputy uniform. (?) I was trying to listen to him tell someone why he was there, while talking to Carolyn, andI think he said he lost his job or something. So he was packing groceries. (!) Go figure.

Getting into New Orleans

Despite what you are seeing on TV, no one I've met here has been into New Orleans proper. You have to be accompanied by a US Marshall, and good luck with that.

I was busily eavesdropping in on a conversation between two New Orleans law enforcement officials today and they were complaining about a sniper that was on top of a building (as in, someone trying to shoot them), and one of them said they weren't going to send their guys back in there. So, there's another reason why things "take so long." In addition to the paperwork challenges, there are all these OTHER challenges!

Things I have learned

Where the bathrooms are, and which ones are working.

How to fill out the very important form #60 to order supplies for the field.

Where contracts is and how to process the form.

Where the supply room is and how to get supplies.

That I really like a lot of things about the South--everyone is so nice, and everyone says "sir" and "maam" and they mean it. Courtesy is a nice thing.

The exact location to Whole Foods.

The exact location to the only Starbucks in Baton Rouge.

How to sleep with eye shields on.

How to shower in a room the size of a porto-potty without letting anything touch the floor.

Ten new acronyms.

That there is a "search and rescue" branch of the PIO branch!!!!

Mostly everyone's name in my immediate area.

Notes from day one

My oh my oh my oh my.

Greetings from day one here at what I can only describe as a "JIC Super Center." Not that you'd think this, with the press reports that the response is a disaster.

The JIC itself has about 50 people in it, maybe more, and is spread out in the building the Emergency Operations Center is in, and also out in the field. The units are: Logistics, Media Center, Field Operations, Liaisons, DMORT, Special Projects, Research/Writing, and Media Monitoring. I am working in the Logistics section.

When I arrived, I expected to be sent to the Morgue, but I got re-assigned immediately to logistics, and have been running around doing everything from getting supplies out to the field (DVDs, a couple of Blackberries, a banner from Kinkos, and a dozen other things). I also set up mailboxes in the JIC, which they don't have. This place is just humming and buzzing and people are running around everywhere.

The JIC is of course just a teeny part of the whole Emergency Operations Center. The whole EOC is set up in an old building which was totally gutted and is now a maze of temporary cubicles and sections for every branch of the government you can imagine: FEMA, EPA, Department of State, Army Corps of Engineers. There are firefighters from all over the country, walking around in sqauds, getting briefed and trained, and military units--Coast Guard, army--and lots of police. The offices are spread out over four floors and everyone's rushing around, running and walking up and down the escalators and stairwells. There was no electricity--no nothing--in this building, and it's dirty and dingy and really a dump. The folks who set it up somehow managed to string electricity all over the place, and the system got taxed from all the computers and phone lines and copiers, and about an hour after I got here yesterday (and was standing in my 10th line for processing), smoke started to fill the building and the firefighters evacuated the building because of an electrical fire. So we milled around outside for an hour and then went back in. But I digress. It's just a huge, huge operation.

I got lodging at a base camp about ten minutes away--it's a big field belonging to the DOT, and been turned into a small military-style-looking camp. There are about eight huge tents for sleeping, each with about 100 cots. I'm in an all-women tent, but there are co-ed and men-only also. A woman I was talking to last night from Army Corps of Engineers said she was in the co-ed tent and everyone was so tired when they got back at night they didn't care if they undressed in front of each other. The camp has three meals a day--so far I had dinner last night (Chinese food!) and breakfast this morning (the whole works, but I declined for a nice bowl of All Bran and fruit salad, because I have a feeling you could really go to pot in this environment). There are hot showers, a laundry facility (yay!), and of course a hundred port o potties! Thrilling, huh? I got my own cot, and froze my butt off last night. Although it was 90 degrees out at 9pm, it was 50 degrees in the tents. I shivered for hours, and several times wanted to just get up, but figured I needed the sleep and tried to just lay there. I was pretty excited, actually, to get to the EOC this morning and find out what I'd be doing.

So, so far, it's pretty interesting, even though I'm nowhere near any "action." It's a real education, let me tell you. It's just so large in scope and you don't see any of the behind the scenes like the JIC operation on tv, of course. 12-hour days, 7 days a week. I'm curious to see what shape I'll be in two weeks!