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I was shook and lived to tell the tale

BC earthquake diaries

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Man looking shocked. He is wearing a red t-shirt, and black-framed glasses. He has his hands on his face and his mouth wide open. He has big eyes.
PHOTO: Andrea Piacquadio / Pexels

By: C Icart, Humour Editor

The earth shook. We all experienced it. Within minutes there was a megathread about it on r/vancouver and people were on Twitter asking, “Did anyone else feel that?” On February 21, we learned something very important about our community: no one knows what to do in the event of an earthquake. And then the earth shook again ten days later but we were sleeping so we weren’t as dramatic about it. 

Personally, for the first quake I was in a virtual meeting, so I just kept working. Because that makes sense right? Under capitalism, when in doubt, just keep working. Apparently (“I’ve never been on live television before” — so sorry, I had to. Just ignore me), you need to go under a table? Come to think of it, I definitely saw Cat Valentine do that on an episode of Victorious once. 

You know how being asked what you’d do in a zombie apocalypse is like a thing on dating apps? And how most people just write that they’d simply pass away? (Maybe I’m just attracted to people with no survival instincts). Well that really got me thinking . . . about how if there’s any mention of a zombie apocalypse on your Hinge profile we’re probably not compatible because I don’t even own a flashlight. I’ve never been camping. I’m what the French call “a city gurl” (don’t question it). 

If I made an emergency kit (because apparently responsible people do that), I’d ignore the instruction to put non-perishable food in it and I’d pack it with croissants. Because (stay with me here) I was watching a TikTok about pandas having poor survival skills (I’m very selfabsorbed; I like to watch content of living beings who are just like me for real), and someone commented that pandas have the survival instinct of a croissant. That made me crave the beautifully layered French pastry. So basically, when the Big One hits, I’ll be under my poorly assembled IKEA furniture munching on a stale croissant.

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