Wednesday, March 21, 2012

My Zombie Apocalypse Survival cake

First and foremost, you should know that I am super bummed out right now.  I don't want to talk about it.  Soon, maybe.  But right now I'm still going through the post-"life handed you a pile of crap" rituals. Yes, rituals.  I totally believe in them.  Like, cake for instance.  You didn't get the job you really wanted?  Someone break into your car and steal your Night Ranger CD? Well, sweetie pie, then you get cake.  For a whole week.  And you get to watch really stupid TV and you don't have feel bad about it.  Because you've EARNED it.

I've totally earned my cake.  I can say that without any hesitation.

But, anyway, what I really want to talk about is the zombie apocalypse.  Yes, yes, I've been watching way too much The Walking Dead.  I can't help it.  I'm not saying it's the bestest show in the history of forever, but it's got zombies.  And this guy:

Enough said.

But, funny thing about The Walking Dead.  Despite it taking place in a very post apocalyptic world, highlights and precisions cuts seem to still be readily available.  And J. Crew still delivers.  But I won't fool myself into thinking we'd be THAT lucky.  No, I'm quite sure if the zombie-shit hit the fan, my hairdresser* and UPS man would be the first to try and eat my face off.

So now I'm totally freaked out.  Not just because of the shambling hoards of the undead outside my front door, but now I'm worried I'm going to look like a total hag while I'm stabbing them in the brain with the Emeril Lagasse knife set I looted from the Home Goods up the street because I can't find the ax in the garage (note to hubby: we should clean the garage sometime this century.  Ya know, just in case).

This brought me to the realization that I really need to have a zombie apocalypse plan of action.  First on the list, find the ax.  Second, find my tweezers.  This will lessen the risk of hag-ification.  I may not be able to have my highlights and lowlights, but I can at least have manicured, non prehistoric eyebrows.  Third, find this guy:

Ah, yes, there he is again.  This time with dead squirrels.  Aside from the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man, I'd say Daryl Dixon is my only chance at survival in a zombie apocalypse.  Plus, he's a total MILWASICMHSCT (Man I'd Like to Write About So I Can Make Him Say Clever Things).  And he carries a crossbow.  I'd look super cool next to him with my ax (if I can find it) and Emeril knife set.  I'd tell him jokes and he'd find me charming.  Or I'd annoy the crap out of him and he'd put an arrow in my head.  Which would totally mess up my non-highlighted hair.

Hmmmm...what kind of shoes do you wear when you have an arrow in your head?

Oooh, which leads me to....

Fourth, have edgy post apocalyptic wardrobe clean and ready at all times.  Something like this:

Just, minus the guns.  And the straps going through the legs.  They work on Milla.  Then again. ANYTHING works on Milla.  You could staple a foot to her face and she'd still be stunning.

And fifth, find this:

No, I won't share. Not even with Daryl.  Sorry.

What's your zombie apocalypse plan of action?

*Sorry, Melissa, you're awesome, but if you go all undead on me, I will totally jam a flat iron into your brain.

Okay, I just got word from Melissa that a) I should jam scissors into her brain instead of a flat iron, and b) she's not going to turn into a zombie anyway since she's totally armed with sharp objects at all times.  So, she's joining Team Daryl Dixon & Vivi with the ax (maybe) and Emeril knife set.  We'll fight hoards of undead and have awesome hair at the same time.  My worries are over.  Bring on the virus.  

Monday, March 12, 2012

This is me talking in more than 140 characters

Okay, peeps, so here's what's been going down in the world of ViviVanGo (this would be my roller derby name, btw.  See my last post for more details).  First and foremost, I am now a Twitter-er.  Yes, I drank the Kool-aid.  See, Twitter confused/paralyzed me before because there was SO much talking all the time, I just wanted to run and hide with my binky (bottle of wine) and my woobie (box of cookies).  But, my sister turned me on to a little thing called Tweet Deck, and now my paralyzing anxiety is kept in check with wondrous things called LISTS!  See, I don't have to listen to everyone Twittering away at once.  I'm saved!

And just as a side bar, I'm totally following (stalking) one of the exec producers for The Walking Dead (fangirl, fangirl, fangirl) and I asked him a question and he finally tweeted an answer back.  Yes, it only took three weeks and about four thousand questions, but still.  I feel special now.  Which, umm, is kinda sad.

Next item of business in ViviVanGo-land is that my darling little sweet pea of a daughter is INSANE.  She is into EVERYTHING.  She has no fear.  None.  And she's smart.  I'm pretty sure as I type this, she's plotting to take over the world.  Resistance will be futile.  Which leads me to...

In less than 45 days, I will be in Las Vegas with my sister, a vacation that I have effing EARNED, dammit.  Do you realize I did not sleep at all in 2010???  Not once.  I should contact Guinness.  Or, just have a Guinness. (Wait...2010?  I meant 2011.  See how sleep deprived I am?  I don't even know what effing year it is.)

And lastly, on the writing front.  Whoa, it's been a crazy few weeks.  Like, bananas.  B-A-N-A-N-A-S.  I can't really say much at this point.  I have no idea what will happen.  Maybe something.  Maybe nothing. If something happens, you'll hear about it.  And if nothing happens, you'll hear about it.  Vague enough for you?  When will then be now?  Soon!  Also, there is no spoon.

What's going on in your world?  (and feel free to leave your roller derby name.)