So, last night there was allegedly a tornado within a mile of me. “How do you feel about that Zach?” ask some curious dudes. I feel… excitement!

I was chatting with my friend Jong-hun at about 2:30am, when suddenly we heard meteorological violence transpiring. We thought it was hailing, which was odd because we hadn’t heard it begin raining. So we opened the curtains of his second-story room and saw that it was not hail, it was just rain falling sideways. Smacking full force against the window.

It was like someone had, without warning, thrown a hurricane switch to ‘ON’. One moment: calm. The next: trees flapping around like flags. The wind was so strong and gusty that I could actually see rain turning corners around buildings and such. I was in awe.

Then, I realized that my car windows were still open. Dang.

Hopping into my flip-flops, I ran to the front door of the building, which was being violently pelted with sideways rain. Taking a deep breath and steeling my resolve, I opened the door and swam through the air to my car, where I jumped inside and furiously began rolling up the windows.

I thought about staying in there for a bit and enjoying the relative safety, but I could already feel wetness seeping into my jeans from sitting on the already soaked sponge car seat. So I ran back in.

I was soaked. Sirens were blaring. People were beginning to congregate and exchange nervous conversation. Some grey-haired fellow named Mark came down and began informing all of us impractical youths about all the useful information he had heard on the news. For example: a Walmart lost its roof. A home was damaged in Millard. I was just happy, and kept hoping there would be a tornado.

It made me realize, I have a really weird attitude toward disaster. Most people, arguably rightly, think “Disaster = UH OH. Avoid.” My brain, somehow, thinks “Disaster = WHEE!! Enjoy.” Probably has to do with the musicians-having-broken-brains thing. Tornados (and most other disasters, thankfully) are unfamiliar to me, therefore my mind automatically embraces them. Further, it gets excited by them.

I remember how excited I was to get West Nile fever. I don’t think anyone really understood, but I was truly thrilled. It was an absolutely awful experience, and I did not enjoy life at all at that point, but I was comforted by the knowledge that this dangerous experience was high adventure. Seriously, I didn’t just have a fever, I had a soaring fever and an infected spine! I might die from a relatively rare disease! Or at least have neurological complications. How awesome is that?! Answer: way cooler than some run-of-the-mill flu.

The storm passed really quickly. It hit really hard and pounded Omaha for a while, but after just 20 minutes or so it had tapered down to a slight drizzling. I was left to drive home in a wet car feeling slightly disappointed that I hadn’t been closer to the danger. (As it turns out, I was still pretty close, just not tangibly.) But I’m still a little bit high from it: high adventure can happen anywhere. I’m ready for more.