There was an earthquake here about four hours ago. I felt it, saw my picture frames sway, everything, but you know what?

I didn’t even register that it was an earthquake. I guess I’m still pretty desensitized to them after having lived in Japan. There were a few big ones – my first was enough to make my whole building go “ca-chug!” and shake me awake, and it happened my very first night alone in my new apartment.

I called my parents, totally freaked out.

By the time they came to visit me a year later, I laughed when they noticed my pictures had come off the wall in the middle of the night. “Yeah, earthquake last night, around 2am. Really small, though.”

This time I just… kept on typing, though I did hear a really huge rumble. I assumed it was thunder and closed my window!