According to Twitter, a leading trend on Tuesday, August 23rd, 2K11 was not just the 5.8 Mineral, VA earthquake, but also, Californians mocking East Coasters for their reactions to said-event. Not cool, people. Having had the privilege of living on both coasts, I declare each has its own geographical demons and, lest you have experienced either or, it is an unfair jab to poke thy fellow primate.

Born in Miami, Florida and residing there for three years before moving to California, earliest memories include taking refuge in a downstairs hallway with Mum and Max, the childhood beagle, with masking tape-Xs marking the plate-glass windows and waiting out massive and lengthy storms. (Or, was Mum calling for Agent Mulder's secret contact?) Where was Daddy? As an Air Force pilot, he was tasked with helping to fly all aircraft out of Florida and onto Michigan bases. Just like Superman!! In fact, as an ironic note, the very hospital from which I was sprouted forth into this world, Homestead Air Force Base, was blown off the map by Hurricane Andrew in 1992 ... same month as my birth, too. (Hey, without the hospital, how do I know I exist? Damn. Can't be sure.)

Many, many years later, my Viking and I would adventure along the mid-Atlantic for a lengthy six years and were faced with at least two major hurricanes and countless terrifying storms. There is an excitement in preparation and anticipation that cannot be described; if you know of this sentiment, you know of it. I cannot explain it to the hurricane virgins. To wit ... the earthquake virgins.