Zombies are coming!

So I mentioned a couple weeks ago that RJ had made our tv into a magic box so that we could watch shows at will.

Abracadabra!  Let's watch The Walking Dead! (Which, by the way, is totally NOT my kind of show.  But RJ wants to watch it, so I can make a sacrifice... OMG is she sleeping with HIM?  Did you see that?!?!?!?  Wow, that guy is a grade-A asshole, I hope he gets zombie-bit.  Hmm, that dude is kinda cute, in a totally Sawyer-from-Lost-but-rednecky-kind-of-way.  NUH-UH.  WHO got killed?)


Well, anyway, marriage is all about compromise, isn't it?  So since we've been watching it, I have become just a little bit of a zombie expert.  A zombert, if you will, and I like to work my newfound zombie knowledge into casual conversations with friends and family.

"Hey, I just got a great deal on AA batteries, which is awesome, because we will need all that we can get when the zombies come."


"I'm not sure you saw the Kroger sale circular this week, but bottled water is dirt cheap.  You might want to stock up.  You know, for the zombie apocalypse."

"I'm so glad we know how to can fresh vegetables.  I think farm girls like us will have a HUGE advantage when the zombies come."

"I read a really interesting article about superbugs and it turns out that it's really awesome for me that I avoid doctors and haven't had a round of antibiotics since 1991.  See, the CDC is predicting a mutant strain of gonorrhea that I believe will turn everyone into zombies, but one Z-Pak should clear that right up for me, since I'm not antibiotic resistant."


"I've really been working on my distance running lately.  I think it will come in handy when the zombies come.  They're not fast, but they can run FOREVER, you know."


"Hey, that's an awesome sale on shovels.  Those flat ones are great for smashing in zombie heads!  How much are baseball bats here?"


However, it seems that many of my loved ones are not nearly as concerned about this possibility as I am.  When I asked Natalie what her zombie apocalypse plans were, she said "Well, I have two spare water bottles and a roll of duct tape in the basement.  Am I prepared?"

Clearly, not everyone is taking this seriously.

Finally I just told her, "Look, when the zombies attack, just get in your car and come to my house.  Bring all your guns.  And bullets.  Don't stop along the way.  Got it?"

I'm thinking I may need to go into business getting people ready for impending zombies.  I know there's a book out there, but since it seems like nobody's actually taking the advice in it, that's where I would come in.

I could help people gather necessary supplies, train them on how to evade zombies, spar with them so they are ready to fight off the ones who get close, and help them ready their homes (NOTE: cities are bad.  Stick to rural areas, and find yourself a two story house, then live upstairs.)

Ok, I'm on this.  I'm off to write my business plan.  Or maybe to watch another episode of The Walking Dead.

I'm going to call it research.

Serial Killers Everywhere.

My television is magical, and RJ is the wizard behind it.

See, here's the thing.  Even though I consider myself to be crafty and mechanically inclined and even a fairly decent home DIYer, if you put something with wires and cords in front of me I go all stupid and failure is inevitable.  Add in anything that doesn't have cords or wires, like with a wireless connection, and my whole left side goes numb and I drool a little.  It is magic.  It is sorcery.  It is coming from space, so it might be laced with alien spit or something.  I want nothing to do with it.

I cannot tell you the number of times I have lined up all four (yes, FOUR.  WHO HAS FOUR?!?!?!) remotes, taken a pic and texted it to RJ.  "Zj wants to watch a movie.  I need you to walk me through what buttons to push."

But RJ, who works diligently to ensure my happiness, has recently done something to the tv that makes it magical.  Basically, I say to him "Hey. There's a show I want to see."  Then he does some magic shit and suddenly it's on my tv.  I'm not entirely sure WHAT he did, or HOW he did it, but that's ok, because that's how magic works, people.  Don't ruin it for me, ok?

I recently mentioned to him that I'd like to watch the show Criminal Minds.  It's one of those shows that I've always heard about but never watched, even though it fit nicely into the kind of police procedural dramas I usually enjoy.  And a little while later, Magico Presto! the first season was ready and waiting for me.

I devoured it.  And then the second and third seasons, and now I'm in the middle of the fourth.

The characters are great, and I love nerdy Dr. Reid more than I should, but I have noticed that it's made me a little jumpier and more suspicious than normal.  And I'm usually plenty suspicious anyway.  That guy who looked at me a little too long at Wal-Mart?  I think he might want to kidnap me so he can eat my face off.  That woman who spoke to the kids?  Definitely going to steal them to replace the ones she lost.  That weird old guy who tried to ask me for directions?  Yeah, I'm gonna mace him and run screaming faster than you can say "Mommy Issues."

So anyway, I've started a list of things that, based on episodes I've already watched, I can't do any more.  It's by no means complete, because as I mentioned I'm only on season four, and there are seven seasons to date.   But it's a pretty good start of a guideline if I don't want to be dressed up in a serial killer's dead mother's old clothes and made to sing Hush Little Baby at gunpoint every night.

Starting today, I can never again:

1. Run alone
2. Drive alone
3. Stay in my house alone
4. Ride in the car with someone else
5. Go to the mall
6. Go to the movies
7. Go to a restaurant
8. Smile at someone
9. Frown at someone
10. Have brown hair
11. Have blonde hair
12. Have red hair
13. Have blue eyes
14. have brown eyes
15. Honk the horn at someone
16. Order pizza
17. Let a repairman in my house
18. Hire a hooker
19. Have a twin
20. Go on vacation
21. Buy a television
22. Ride on a train
23. Go to the park
24. Play football
25. Get old
26. Stay young
27. Be alive
28. Be dead
29. Leave my windows open
30. Close my windows

OMG THEY'RE GOING TO GET ME GET ME GET ME GET ME GET ME!!!!!!!

Ahem.

So anyway, if you're looking for me, I'm just going to be over here huddled in the corner, back to the wall, lights off, shaking and hearing strange noises and seeing strange shadows everywhere.

Oh, and watching seasons four through seven of Criminal Minds.

Because I can't stop.

Sock Monsters - They're Real!!!

I'm not known as the best housekeeper around.  To my credit, I love to cook, but housekeeping just... alludes me somehow.  However, I do what is necessary most of the time, and manage to keep the house from being a total and utter pit from hell.

But laundry, laundry and I do not get along.

At all.

I'm no super stain fighter.

I have no super-de-duper hints or tricks that make wrinkles disappear as if by magic.

Oh, and I'm infested with sock monsters.

And they're breeding.

For real, yo.

Ok, I'm sure you don't believe me here, but let's do some math, shall we?

There are four members of the J household.  Each J family member wears approximately one pair of socks per day.  That's two socks in a pair, times four people, times seven days in a week, times four weeks in a month.  Approximately, of course.

That's around 224 socks that should pass through my washer and dryer per month, right?

If you assume a loss rate of approximately 5%, that means that in any given month, you could assume a loss of 11.2 socks.

Approximately, of course.

So where the hell did all these come from???

These photos depict actual unmatched socks found at 154 HIdden Court.

Sock Monsters - They're Real.