Saturday, December 25, 2010

Jury Duty

I am not the chosen one. My group was not called for Monday, so I'm to call back after 5pm to find out if I'm needed on Tuesday. One the one hand, Yay for days off, on the other hand, I wanted to know what jury duty was like.

Perhaps this is for the best, and I'll be called sometime in the future on a week when I don't have paid days off work for the holidays. That would be lovely. In the meantime I'll have to read some true crime books, or some trial themed romance novels.

Monday, December 6, 2010

The Many Ways Zombies Have Effected Affected Infected My Life:

Most people who hear about my 'Zombie Issues' don't understand them: Well, I don't get it either, guys. Zombies freak me out completely, but I love zombie movies, books, being a zombie for Halloween, zombie flash-mobs, what have you. And despite all this love, my greatest fear is that one day I'll end up killing some poor bastard in a zombie costume.

This is a valid fear, because that's how worried I am about zombies; if one comes at me unexpectedly I'm pretty sure my reaction will be violent and negative, even though I know they don't exist. Occasionally I consider what I'd do if one of my friends or relatives decided it would be funny to sign me up for a show like Scare Tactics-outcome: not good.

And the flesh-eating undead abominations I'm afraid of aren't even an ancient legendary could-maybe-exist (like Bigfoot) type horror: George Romero invented them in the 1960's. HE MADE THEM UP AND I STILL THINK I MIGHT RUN INTO ONE SOMEDAY!

Does this make me crazy?

Maybe a little bit. But probably not any more than most Twilight fans.

Zombies don't just haunt my waking thoughts. I am unlucky enough to have recurring zombie nightmares and have for years. The first one was a bloody, gory dystopian shock, but after repeated exposure I've become accustomed to their horror. One of my most treasured zombie-nightmare memories was a dream where I heroically fought the zombie horde and even discovered the cure for zombieism (plain white bread apparently), but alas, I was too late. My parents had become zombies, and though I was immune to the zombie scourge thanks to wonder-bread, my sister was not so lucky.

At the end of the dream my zombie parents and I sat down to dinner in our dining room, the dining room window giving us a view of the street outside where zombies stumbled by and cars caught on fire, all against a blood-red sky. Then we had dinner (stew made out of my sister-sorry Sarah). BAD DREAM.

Aside from experiencing a dystopian zombie future one night out of twenty, my zombie obsession also spills over into my taste in literature and film. Name a zombie movie. I've seen it.

So...I guess I'd call myself a fan?