I’ve been living in the bay area for close to five years. And, I’ve only felt two earthquakes. One was so subtle that I thought that I was just dizzy (that, too, happens on occasion…). Last night, though, I thought it was the “big one.” My first thought was that something had exploded. It started with a big jolt. I actually saw the walls of my apartment shake. Then I watched the TV stand, lamp and all 9 of my chirren sway back and forth.
In light of my last post, I would like to distract you for a moment. If you haven’t taken the time to meet my 9 children, please do so. Here’s the video. They’ve been begging me to make another video. So, I probably will do that soon. They had so much fun during the first one.
Anyway, back to the earthquake. The shaking went on for about 20 seconds. For those of us who come from parts of the world where the only shaking going on involves deranged drunken parents and their children, it is an unsettling experience. My first instinct was that I needed to get out of the house. My second instinct was that I should put on some shoes. Wait, I should take my cell phone. And, my Mac. I should probably turn the lights off to save electricity…
Ok, let’s just say that–keep in mind, I’m a flight attendant who has been repeatedly trained to evacuate an aircraft with the command: “LEAVE EVERYTHING!”–well, let’s just say that I failed. Now, I have to give myself some credit, the earthquake wasn’t actually as big as the initial jolt made it feel. It was only a 5.6 on the Richter Scale. And, it was centered over 50 miles away.
But, it got me thinking. I’m the one who forced Jeff (who experienced the 1989 earthquake) to agree to my earthquake emergency plan, complete with meeting places in various locations. I should be able to handle the most important step: Get out of the house.
At least I didn’t run out screaming “I don’t want to die!” only to discover I was half-naked and that half of the population didn’t even feel the quake.