I've been watching The Walking Dead lately (I'm quite a fan), and trying to catch up on the first season. Additionally, I make my best friend, Ally, watch with me, because I'm not watching that shit alone! Are you nuts? Anyway, it's really made me stop and think about my zombie survival skills, and after tonight's conversation with Ally, I think I need to institute a new blog feature. We're going to call these entries, "Real Conversations." All I have to say, ladies and gentlemen, is that it appears I am in big trouble...
Me: "Yay! So this Sunday it's a Walking Dead marathon."
Ally: "Okay. Though I don't know how I'm going to run away if we're watching it at your place. Nowhere to run."
Me: "I think it's funny that your physical reaction to this show is to actually get up and run away, as if they will climb out of the screen and chase after you."
Ally: "Hey! It's practice for the real zombie apocalypse. I will be ready!"
Me: "Whereas I tend to scream and flail about. That reminds me. Remember, at my old house, when lightning hit the wiring and the light bulb buzzed loudly and exploded above my head, and instead of running away like a normal person I kind of jogged in place frantically and flailed my arms about? I think I'm realizing that this is my instinctual reaction to fearful situations. Not good."
Ally: "You would be SO screwed in a zombie apocalypse. You're dead. They would eat you so fast."
Me: "Oh my God, I know. I would flail at them. I would just scream and flap my arms and that wouldn't help. Maybe I'll kick them in the nads, instead."
Ally: "I don't think that would help, Jenny."
Me: "I'll roundhouse kick them!"
Ally: "They'll just bite your feet off! You need to run, woman!"
Me: "God. I'll have to buy you a t-shirt that says, 'Run, Jenny, Run!' in big letters so I'll remember what to do."
Ally: "Well, you'd better put the writing on the back, because I will be OUT of there so fast. I'll miss you so much."
Me: "No you won't, cuz I'll come find you and eat your brains. You'd better be skilled at shooting things in the head. I'm a little worried about you in that area."
Ally: "Hey, good shots run in my family line."
Me: "Woman, you struggle with high-fives and blowin' up your fist bumps. I'm skeptical about your hand-eye coordination. Though, you're really good at knitting things, so, maybe that'll be your saving grace. I've been playing the piano all my life, so, I'd probably be good with a gun. Maybe you could knit some gun holders, and my hands will be all toasty warm while I kill the zombies for us."
Ally: "Shut up. You'd better learn to run first."
Me: "I'm working on it."