This just in from food blogger Danielle Sucher of Habeas Brulee: "I looked back into my private journal for my blackout story, and here’s what I wrote then:"

Highs and Lows of a Blackout by Danielle Sucher

Best moment: Standing on the Brooklyn Bridge. One guy has a cell 
phone that works. The crowd moves a little. He says into his phone, 
"Can you hear me now?" Everyone around him on the bridge follow up 
with, "Good." And then giggle. And I suddenly realize that the 
hundreds and thousands of people walking across that bridge all sit 
alone in their living rooms at night and watch that same stupid 
commercial.

Worst moment: Getting nauseous because of either sunstroke from 
standing in the sun without water for an hour and a half while the 
crowd on the bridge wasn’t moving at all, or perhaps from something 
I’d eaten earlier in the day, and throwing up even all the water I 
tried to drink and was thus unable to hydrate myself for the entire 
walk home. Worst sunstroke of my life. (Never had any reaction to sun 
before. So probably something else started the nausea, and then my 
inability to hydrate myself simply made it all worse.)

Other moments:

My boss went north. We don’t know what happened to him. He lives in 
Westchester. He says he was just hoping to get to the oyster bar 
before all the ice melted.

Called Dave from the one functional phone in the office to make him 
go online and get news for us.

Parties everywhere. It was a carnival atmosphere, of course. People 
were nice and great and I had various companions for different legs 
of the trip.

Mom and David thought I was an idiot who would be unable to find my 
way home. Dad knew better. Of course I was able to find my way home. 
Grr. It just took me a while, with all the nausea.

Considered just heading to Max’s mother’s apartment. But didn’t think 
of it until I was across the bridge, and when I did think of it I 
realized (a) I wanted to be with Dad, and (b) I couldn’t call home 
and my family would be terrified if I simply didn’t show up.

Dad had barbecue and candlelight waiting for me when I got home.

My cell phone still isn’t working. The power still isn’t back on at 
my house. The subways still aren’t working. Power isn’t back on at my 
office, either. I wanted to stay home and relax and read for once, 
but then Dad called us a cab and we went to his office to get work 
done. What a waste. But the thing is – if I can do work, I have to do 
work. Sigh. So I’m in Brooklyn Heights now, working and sulking. I 
really do enjoy my work. I just wish I could do something else, too.

Was going to spin after work last night. So I walked home with a 
liter of lamp oil and wicks in my bag. Once it got dark I was 
strongly tempted to dip and burn one just for the light, but then 
decided I didn’t really want that much attention.

And here’s more of the story, that I never wrote up:

I hitchhiked a bit. I was waiting at a bus stop with a few other 
people vainly hoping, and a man in an SUV drove up and offered all of 
us a ride for part of the way. I took him up on it, as did a few of 
the others.

I almost convinced some firefighters to drive me home in their 
firetruck, but then their chief noticed and ordered them not to.

I ended up walking the last few blocks home, past all the block 
parties and the dark, my firespinning gear in my bag, in the company 
of a middle-aged woman who turned out to actually be named Lolita.

And here’s what I wrote on August 15, 2003:

Vayehi or!

Power just now came back on in my neighborhood.

I forgot one of the funniest things about the blackout! One of the 
partners at my firm was at the MCC, the jail in Brooklyn, when it 
happened. We still don’t know if he ever got out.