A Googolplex Of Splinters:My First Earthquake. oh god. hold me.

New York has only had two noticeable earthquakes - one in 1737 and the other in 1884. We are long overdue for a quake. As a result, I am used to calm, rational plates that are too lazy to bother moving. This morning at around 700AM Shikoku plates shuttered and shook to welcome and terrify the new batch of foreigners for the very first time.

“What the FUCK are you doing up there?!!?” were the initial words out of my mouth. I figured my usually church-mouse silent neighbors upstairs were having some sort of domestic scuffle or practicing sumo upstairs. At seven AM. I was prepared to arm myself with the broom from my balcony and angrily retaliate. Two can play that game.

The shaking didn’t stop. If anything, the quivering got more intense and then it struck me and I dropped my broom. Holy crap. The guy’s not beating his wife; it’s an earthquake. It felt a lot like it does when you’re on an airplane and there is a sudden jolt of persistent turbulence. It’s one thing to experience turbulence when you’re on a plane at the mercy of the sky Gods and their lightning bolts with nothing but trifling AIR holding you up. But it’s a completely different kettle of fish when the good old terra firma that you had counted on to always be securely there for you on the fly decides to pick up her skirt and move.

All of a sudden I was regretting not reading those emails the JET Programme had sent me concerning safe guarding your ass in the event of a quake. I considered dashing to the next room to desperately search for the JET Handbook that surely had a section on natural disasters and ways to prevent one from dying.

But then again was I supposed to stay put? Perhaps I was supposed to find a doorway to crouch in. Years of watching “Saved By the Bell” after school had taught me that I was supposed to crawl under a desk. Quite frankly I don’t think that my desk would have provided any sort of protection from fallen debris as it is most likely made out of the weakest tree ever since the beginning when man first discovered how to use tools. If something fell on me the desk would shatter, piercing me with a googolplex of splinters thus causing my death from internal bleeding.

What were my other options? Perhaps, I run outside. Perhaps, I beat down the door of my neighbors and squeal for help in nonsensical English that will probably only frighten them and cause them to chase me from their abode. Perhaps, I just crawl back into bed and pull the covers up over my head whilst wailing for my mommy and the good old non-moving plates that make up the northeastern coast of the United States.

Thankfully by the time I had run these options as well as several other even poorer ones through my head, the trembling had stopped. Or had it. I sat there for a while wondering if Hades down below was still pissed off at Persephone. No aftershocks seemed to come but I was still clutching my cell phone prepared to call one of my fantabulous friends that I have made here should a large loudspeaker or roof tile start spiraling down towards my head as I made my way to school.

I now know how the dinosaurs felt.

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Published:
9.26.06 / 5pm
Category:
amusing incidents, what i call life, unschoolish