I was sitting at a cafe in Westwood when my first California earthquake happened. (The first, believe it or not, was in Charlottesville, and yes, I felt it then, too.) It came and went. I thought it was just a huge truck passing through and forcing the ground to rumble, but alas, it was a real, live earthquake. I didn’t know that it was a 5.6, or that it warranted friends and family to check in until I got back to my desk and saw an email from mom and from Anne. Again, it just came and went, and it didn’t rattle anything around me. Is that very Californian—you know, sitting at an oudoors French cafe chatting as the earth shakes?
la danse des poulets
regardez la magique!
