Shaken, not stirred

As I sit in my new pad watching the ridiculousness that is the Real Housewives of Atlanta (it’s like a trainwreck from which I cannot look away) I begin to feel my apartment shake a little. Just a slight little tremor. Immediately, my California brain looks for the nearest hanging light fixture to confirm the shaking and doorway for protection, obvi.

Then I remembered I’m in Louisiana. They have hurricanes here, not earthquakes.

I go back to the show, assuming someone slammed a door below me or something, but then a few minutes later, it happens again. Only this time, the detective in me realizes that the rattling coincides with the semi-trucks that are driving by.

I haven’t quite figured out how this is happening because they are driving on a road across the way (a canal separates my building from the road) and I’m on the third story, way above the trucks.

My only answer is that the ground is so soft (it is at sea level–I heard that if I dig anywhere in the city, I will hit water at about 3 feet; I have yet to confirm) that it’s sending the vibrations from the trucks up my building across the way. I’m not sure if that is actually scientifically possible and I am currently accepting other solutions.

It’s so nice to feel at home.

2 comments on “Shaken, not stirred

  1. I, too, can’t NOT watch The Real Housewives of Atlanta (yes, I’m busting out the double negative for that one!). I’m just realizing how absolutely boring it’s going to be when I go to Napa for Thanksgiving and you aren’t going to be there to watch Jon & Kate OR Real Housewives with…who am I supposed to watch this stuff with? Not my brother, I’ll tell you that much!

    Glad to hear you’re adjusting to the Boot (or shall I say, breaking it in? Sorry, I couldn’t help myself)…let’s just try to refrain from natural disasters including (but not limited to) earthquakes and hurricanes.

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