A Small Earthquake

After living in California for almost two and a half years, I finally experienced my first earthquake. Sure, to you native Californians this was nothing more than a boring Mother Earth nudge, but to this east coast kid, I was pretty sure the world was coming to an end. For what seemed like five minutes (it's my story and I will freely embellish) my entire apartment building shook and groaned. Instantly, my body froze and I'm pretty sure my heart stopped beating. (Again, I'm the storyteller here. You are the reader. If you want to judge leave a comment like everyone else.) When it was finally over I let go of the pillow I was clenching and called Jimmy Dean (name has been changed to protect the privacy of my husband) and told him of my ordeal. Without an ounce of sympathy he said, "Oh please, that was nothing." Nothing? The world shook. That's not normal. I just don't get native Californians. I will give you the warm winters, the sunny days and the beach. However, I will never budge that earthquakes are something you just deal with and brush off. I'm mean seriously - do we finally freak out when LA splits in two, or when Santa Monica falls into the ocean? Just curious.