You see, I’ve been freelancing at my old job from college since we moved to Maryland two and a half weeks ago. So, when the earthquake hit, I was sitting alone in an office on the top floor of Bunting Hall at Washington College in Chestertown, Maryland.

In college, it was not uncommon to hear testing at Aberdeen Proving Ground, which is located across the Chesapeake Bay. My first thought, as the shaking started, was that it must be something over there. As it got worse, I was worried that the construction in front of the building had gone horribly wrong. Only near the end of the earthquake, as the bookcase in the corner rattled and the plastic of the copier down the hall creaked did I think, “This is an earthquake,” and move to the doorway of the office.

Reports say the earthquake was only twenty seconds. It felt much longer.

Other confused faces poked their faces into the hall from their doorways. We looked at each other in bewilderment. The consensus seemed to be to go outside, so I followed. I tried to text Dan, but it didn’t go through right away. Eventually he got back to me and said, “You had a tremor too?” It turned out that 50 miles away, he’d been evacuated from his building as well.

Thankfully, it was a beautiful day to stand outside for 45 minutes. The College decided to send nonessential staff home. I listened to CNN and other news stations on satellite radio as I drove an hour back to our apartment and tried to wrap my head around what happened.

I still don’t think I completely understand.

Now it’s time to prepare for a hurricane. These things seem so alien to write about as a Pennsylvanian/Marylander.

The past few weeks have been busy. Sort of. I’ve been freaking out because I don’t have a job up here, and I don’t have a job down there… I’m looking for jobs down there and applying. I have a solid date for when I’m moving—August 8.

I guess I’ll no longer be a small town girl. I’ll be more of a suburban girl. Although I guess we can still count Elkton as a small town.

It’s not Lebanon though.

It’s bittersweet, really. I’ve wanted to move out for awhile, but I didn’t expect to move two hours away and out of this state. I’m hopeful that eventually Dan can find a career up here so I can be closer to my family. I’m going to miss them so much. It’s nice to be able to drop in on my grandmother because she’s been a huge part of my life since I was little. My cousins randomly ask me to house sit or dog sit or babysit. As weird as some people think it is, my Mom is one of my best friends.

While I’m excited to live with Dan, I’m also worried about finances and the eventual resentment that may build up if I don’t find a job. I’m concerned about living in another state, even if it’s only for a year, because I’m attached to PA. I have a lot of 717 pride. I’m getting nervous, I guess.

It’s probably to be expected.

Dan and I have decided to look at places together, and we are currently waiting to hear back on what could very well be our first place. I’m anxious! It’s such an exciting concept, and he’s being kind enough to let me move in with him without contributing a lot monetarily because I am quite determined to find a job down there. Where could I get a job for just a month and a half up here until we move? So, to earn my keep, I’m brushing up on my cooking skills during this spell of unemployment.

Last week, I made mini quiche with green peppers, ham and onion (western omelette style). The leftover ingredients from that culinary adventure were sitting in my fridge unused, and Dan was up for the weekend so I needed to impress him. I whipped up a frittata with the aforementioned ingredients and a fluffy sour cream, milk and egg mixture. Forty minutes later, we had a delicious brunch! We had the leftovers this morning with some fried potatoes.

I sprinkled Old Bay on my fried potatoes, which reminds me of where we might be moving. I may be returning to the Eastern Shore! Granted, it will be north of the Washington College region, and it’s more at the tippy top of the Bay. I really hope it works out.

This is how I know that I have a wonderful boyfriend. The plan was to drive down Saturday, which according to all forecasts, would be the height of the storm. He came to my house prepared with his parents’ 4-wheel drive Ford Escape full of blankets and winter gear, and when my Mom suggested we drive down Friday night and rent a hotel room, he realized it was a good idea. We arrived in Frederick just as the snow started to fall and checked in to a Comfort Inn about a mile from Kate’s house. We watched the snow start to come down harder and harder while enjoying our king sized bed. Well, I enjoyed the bed a lot more; I had taught that day and I fell asleep pretty fast. Dan watched a movie, read some of his book, and ate some beef jerky.

By morning, Frederick was covered in what I would say was about a foot of snow. We took full advantage of our late checkout time, and waited until about 2 p.m. to dig out the Escape. We borrowed a shovel from the hotel since a huge drift had formed around the SUV. Then we headed started driving what was supposed to be 0.8 miles to Kate’s house, missing our turn and taking a scenic detour in the snow. The roads were not in good shape at all, and we were thankful that we had four-wheel drive to help us out—even though the four-wheel drive then got stuck in Kate’s freshly plowed-in driveway. A neighbor who had recently pulled the mailman out with his pickup truck attempted to help us, but it was only shoveling and reverse that could fix us. When we finally got in to Kate’s house, we were tired and wet and the snow was still falling!

We were the only ones out of the original invitees that made it to the party (aside from Kate’s neighbors, who came because this was actually her parents’ party), so our hanging out wasn’t really exciting. It was a lot like it was in college. Catching up, eating good food and watching ridiculous television (introducing Kate and Scott to It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia). After it was dark, we went outside to get our air mattress and sleeping bags and clear the SUV off once again. The four of us played in the still-falling snow, too. Scott nailed Kate in the head with a snowball and she pushed him into a snowbank. I built a tiny snowman that Dan stabbed with an icicle. By morning and our next round of playing in the snow, about two feet had fallen. After a delicious breakfast with Kate’s family, we hit the road. Side streets were still rough, but the interstate was dry and getting back to my house was easy.

I wish I had pictures from this weekend, because it was so random and so pretty. Snowball fights and beer may have led to a headcold, but I also have the beginning of a great ending to 2009. I’m extraordinarily delighted that Dan helped make this visit possible. I’m thrilled I got to see one of my favorite people and her wonderful man during their brief time in the US. And I’m happy I survived what folks are calling Snowpocalypse 2009.