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It’s already snowing for a lot of us in New Jersey as the nor’easter following in Sandy’s shadow hits ground. I’m thinking of all the people in the area who are still without power (or without power again) and for whom this is going to be a really cold and difficult night.

If you haven’t already, please consider donating items through Jersey Cares, or using Occupy Sandy’s brilliant “Wedding Registry” to help with the recovery efforts.

On a positive note, I tried registering to give blood this week and all of the upcoming blood drives near me were booked up. A good problem to have!

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Newark Blackout

From the Newark Airport home, there were no streetlights, no traffic lights, or anything. It’s completely deserted, and there are a few cops every few feet to help at the intersections. It’s such a strange feeling to be driving through this busy urban area, where it’s completely dark, apart from your car headlights.

(Totally shoddy video of the ride home. You get the idea, though.)

On McCarter Highway, a whole lane was being taken up by those waiting for gas. It’s quiet, punctuated briefly by sirens and ambulances coming through.

I’ve been following @CoryBooker on Twitter, who seems to be responding to as many people as he can about the power and heat situations, but there are so many requests coming in and so many families in need.

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While I may have been physically away during the storm, my heart has been home in New Jersey. Thankfully, my immediate family is safe and sound, and it has been heartwarming to receive and send messages between friends and family, checking in on one other.

It’s also been extremely emotional seeing the damage, especially down at the Shore. I grew up near Atlantic City, spent every summer in Seaside Heights, and spent the last year in Jersey City. I’m anxious to be home, get our feet on the ground, and help as much as I possibly can.

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Dreaming in English

Reading about all this multilingual dreaming, I asked myself, Why isn’t anyone dreaming in English? Perhaps, I thought, people naïvely assume they dream in their native language, when in fact something else happens — perhaps it’s in recalling a dream that any language in it is identified. I myself can remember dreamtime speaking in Spanish and Mandarin, two languages I’ve studied, as well as dreamtime writing and yelling in English, my native language. But I don’t recall ever waking up and thinking, Wow, I was really fluent in English last night.

Dreaming in English | Michael Erard