Earthquake!

O.K. Here's the glitch in my often unbridled love of southern California:

EARTHQUAKES.

I hate earthquakes, and yesterday's was very scary. I was talking to a friend in my dining room, and when he stood up to leave, I noticed the chandelier swinging a bit and asked him whether he'd hit it with his head. Simultaneously I heard the chink, chink, chink of pots and pans hitting each other and glanced into the kitchen to see them swinging gently together from the ceiling. All of this happened all at once, but I looked at my friend and we both said earthquake? because the sensation was so very different than the jolts and loud bangs that we'd experienced at other times. I stood up and said that I needed to go to Sophie's room and then I made my way down our little hallway and I'm not kidding when I tell you that it felt like I was in a little boat in the vast ocean such was the swaying. It felt like each step was a heavy plant and I had sea-legs, and when I sat down on Sophie's bed where she was peacefully drowsy, my friend followed me into the room and stood in the doorway. Only a minute or so had gone by but the mermaid was swaying gently from the ceiling as was the wooden butterfly. I glanced outside the window into the backyard and saw the boxing pad swinging wildly. I felt distinctly nauseous and had to put my hands on either side of me on the bed. D said it sure seems like a long one and then everything stopped and the mermaid continued to sway and we tried to laugh but were clearly unnerved.

The nausea lasted for another half hour or so, and my nerves were edgy and rattled. There's an exquisite sensitivity that one feels after an earthquake, but I'm not sure it's a good feeling.

Why, again do I live here?