Zombie Apocalypse: Or I’m one lucky bitch.

So I finally got around to reading World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War and I’ll tell you something, unless it’s the Second Coming of Jesus Christ Himself, if the dead start walking, I’m fucking killing myself.

World War Z is a series of interviews with survivors of the WWZ, civilian, military etc. It’s organized to tell the stories about the beginning, the middle, end, and rebuilding afterwards. So on the one hand, you know that everyone you’re reading about survives. On the other hand, it’s fucking scary to think about what happens in the Zombie Apocalypse. It’s terrifying to think about what the hell would happen if civilization fell apart.

See, I live in the western world of the 21^st century. I’m in a PhD program, I’ve got a Master’s from an Ivy League school – so, I might not be personally rolling in the dough, but in many ways I am the elite of elite in the damn world. I can rest assured that my water is potable, and if it ain’t, I can get a filter system. I can get aspirin and emergency medical service (although I might not be able to afford the latter, I can definitely get it). Most days I don’t think of myself as that lucky. I’ve got enough debt to own a house in some places and all I got was an education, I don’t have a dishwasher. Wah wah fucking wah.

My point is: I whine about not having a dishwasher. I can’t begin to fathom the social fallout of the Zombie Apocalypse. My 11 year old goddaughter is totally into zombies and is patiently awaiting WWZ so that she can test her zombie survival skills. I am not so amused. See, the Zombie Apocalypse isn’t going to be all fun and games. It’s going to be blood and brains and piss everywhere. It’s going to be the collapse of civilization as we know it, and people will die because civilization as we know it has divided labor so well that most of us in the western world wouldn’t know how to hunt, kill & butcher an animal, determine which plants & mushrooms are edible, nevermind knowing how to build a secure shelter, repair a car, or shoot a gun and hit a zombie in the brain.

I’m really fucking scared of Zombie Apocalypse. I don’t think it’s especially likely that the dead will start walking and want to eat us all, spreading infection and doom exponentially. No. I’m scared of whatever fucked up shit would happen if America ever really faced a war within the borders, thermonuclear apocalypse, famine, drought and/or environmental devastation leading to Mad Max insanity. I’m soft. Oh SURE. I’m a Girl Scout. I know how to set up a tent and CPR and shit, but I’ve never fired a gun, I’ve never really been in a physical fight, I can’t even run a 10 minute mile and nevermind climbing anything.

So I’ve picked up my gym pace. I’m committed. And you know what, when I hit the treadmill, I envision a) Zombie Apocalypse or b) The Rise of the Machines. Sometimes I envision zombies and the T-1000 teaming up to get me.

In conclusion:

World War Z is a scary book, and it gave me some really messed up dreams. I’m afraid of this war/apocalypse/end of civilization thing. This motivates me. “Run fat ass, RUN.” I also wonder if I should learn some more practical skills, like shooting guns, fighting, building, sewing, hunting etc.

And if the Zombie Apocalypse happens, I’m gonna bend over and kiss my sweet ass goodbye, then off myself. In the meantime, I’ll try to remember how seriously lucky I am that my biggest problems are student loans, picking wine for my wedding, and lack of dishwasher.

MJ Memorial Service

Yes, I watched it. Yes, I cried. Yes, I saw Paris and yes she made me cry.

In spite of how much his music makes me happy, Michael Jackson was a terribly sad,  unwell person in the end. I find it terribly sad that all the joy he brought to the world in his music & dance was at the expense of any sense of normalcy in his whole life. I feel sad for him and I feel sad for his children.

And this concludes the media fiasco (I hope).

Michael Jackson

I was a high schooler at the height of Nirvana’s fame.

I don’t remember the first time I heard a Nirvana song. I don’t remember when I was when I heard that Kurt Cobain had died. I didn’t cry. His death didn’t phase me at all. I didn’t even own a Nirvana cd until I was almost 30.

I absolutely remember when my parents brought home the Thriller album on vinyl. I doubt it was the first time I heard Michael Jackson. It was the same say they got Culture Club’s Colour By Numbers. When my parents asked me which one we should listen to first, I picked Culture Club. My mom asked me if I knew that the person on the cover (i.e. Boy George) was a boy and not a girl. I remember studying the Thriller album cover. I remember being allowed to watch the full version of the Thriller video as a scary movie.

I had this poster.

I never really identified myself as a Michael Jackson fan. I guess I just sort of assumed that everybody liked his music. He was a talented performer and he had an incalculable impact on music in the last half century.

I don’t remember where I was I when I heard that Kurt Cobain died, but I will probably always remember where I was when I heard that Michael Jackson died.

I was working in the library at Beach U, taking a break from editing the web page I’d been assigned to create. I read TMZ’s announcement that Michael Jackson had died, and then waited and waited to get “reliable” information. My immediate reaction? “OH MY GOD, MICHAEL JACKSON DIED!!” I guess I thought he’s just be around, like he had been for my entire life.

The Way You Make Me Feel and Beat It are probably my all time favorite Michael Jackson songs.

I hope he’s found peace.

Random & Weird Things about ME

I have been tagged by Greta Jane with a pretty fun meme. So here goes!

Here are the rules:
1. Link to your tagger and list these rules on your blog.
2. Share 7 facts about yourself, some random, some weird.
3 Tag 7 people (if possible) at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs.
4. Let them know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blogs.

Seven things about Ms. Livia Augusta:
1. I have been a Girl Scout since 1984. I haven’t been very active since 2002 – when I started the life sucking game of doom called “Graduate School.”

2. Both cars I have ever owned were totalled in accidents that were not my fault – one involved two parked cars and one set of failed brakes.

3. My first car was called Julian Lestat. I called him Lestat.

4. I have regular dreams about one of my dogs and my paternal grandmother – the one with the collection of Democratic donkeys. I’m convinced they’re visitations and not just dreams.

5. I have two friends who share my birthday. I dated both of them. Weird.

6. My brother is a physicist. Like really a physicist. With a PhD from an Ivy League School.

*correction: his PhD isn’t yet filed, he’s still wrapping up the dissertation, but he’s almost done.

7. I spent the night of December 31, 1999 on the Giza Plain outside Cairo, in front of the Pyramids watching The Twelve Dreams of the Sun with a guy I performed with at a Renaissance Faire. You can search youtube for the videos if you want. There are quite a few.

I’m tagging:
Kalesy
Zafulotus

Greta already tagged Kosher Academic, so I won’t.

That’s enough for now.