I was hanging out in my second floor bedroom, minding my own business. It was Saturday night, sometime around 11:00, and I was growing sleepy. I was also aware that I had to set my alarm and get up early the next morning for work. Planning on going to bed, I changed into pajamas and switched out my contacts for my nerd-like glasses. My phone lit up with a new message, so I grabbed it and laid on my bed, typing out a reply on my iPhone’s touch screen while trying to keep my eyes open.

Mid reply I heard a light knocking sound coming from somewhere next to me. I paused, listening, and then sat up to look for the source. It was my lamp, which was a little unsteady to begin with, vibrating slightly on my bedside table. In the silence of my room the dull tapping sound echoed off my walls. As I watched the beads on my lampshade bobble back and forth, my first thought was of Jurassic Park.

You know that scene where the tyrannosaurus is approaching, and the water in the glass the camera zooms in on is shaking with each step? All I could picture was that giant carnivore running down my street and knocking over lamp posts and basketball hoops as it stomped.

I shook that thought from my mind, thinking I was just drowsy and imagining things, or that perhaps a large car was passing in the alley. But when the shaking didn’t stop, I began to grow a little concerned. I tossed my phone aside and stood up. The carpeted floor beneath my feet was quaking. It was so slight I almost didn’t feel it, but as I stood still it became apparent everything around me was trembling. My mind went back to Earth and Space Science. Coach Faith had mentioned in class the other day that small earthquakes happened all the time and we just didn’t feel them. Could this be one of those? Was I just super sensitive or something? Just as I was questioning my sanity, the shaking stopped. I waited, and when it didn’t return I decided it was past my bedtime and crawled under the covers.

Then my phone went off again.

I tossed my blanket off, raised my head from my pillow, and glanced in annoyance at the screen.

“Norman just texted me and said they had an earthquake in Paris,” my mom’s text message glowed.

Let me clear up a few things: Norman is my uncle, and he lives in Paris, Texas, not Paris, France.

I was relieved to find out I hadn’t imagined the quavering. I ran downstairs and told my mom all about my small encounter with the earthquake.

My uncle’s story was better than mine. As it turns out, he had been sitting at the foot of his bed taking off his shoes when he felt everything start to shake. Not knowing what was going on, he started to stand. Then the thought occurred to him that he could be having a stroke or something, so he thought better of it and sat. After the shaking had stopped his kids came running from upstairs, confirming that he wasn’t the only one that had felt the earth moving.

And all we felt were simple weakened waves. Oklahoma was the state that got the real earthquake.

In her whole life, my mother has never once felt an earthquake. Now she still can’t say that she has, because since she was on the first floor she didn’t notice a thing. So I got to experience something pretty interesting.

However, interesting as it was, I don’t care to experience it again.

No offense California.