My husband went north this weekend. Without us. There was a poker run going on and some of “the guys” were going and, since those particular guys ride their ATVs faster than I drive my car, the boys and I graciously bowed out. Fast food, video games, watching movies. Yeah, life was tough.
Friday night I watched The Holiday. It was okay. Kinda cute. Though I’m apparently the only person on Twitter to feel this way, I wanted more Jack Black and less Jude Law. Then, last night, the boys and I watched Paul Blart, Mall Cop. It was funny (and one of those movies that’s funnier if you’re watching it with 14 and 8 year old boys), but it was also kinda sad. Since a lot of the humor came from the sad, it was…eh. I must say, though, that once Blart got himself all decked out in the black and had that “You have my woman, I’m gonna kick your ass” look, he was pretty hot. Jack Black and Kevin James. I guess we know where sense of humor ranks on Shan’s hotness scale.
Anyway, after the boys went to bed, I watched Resident Evil. Back when I bought it, a long time ago, I think I knew what the movie was about, but I’d forgotten. The story sucked me in and then…BAM! Zombies!
I recently blogged about my ability to totally freak myself out, yet there I was, watching a zombie movie. Alone.
Fortunately, I have my attack dog.
Scary, isn’t she? I haven’t read that book on how to survive a zombie attack, but I’m guessing it takes more than a little ankle-biting to take them down.
Hell, Mini even gets her ass kicked by the smaller of our cats.
And yet, once I got to my bed (after a death-defying run up the stairs because you know that’s when zombies get you, right?) I turned out the light and drifted off to sleep.
One thing about Mini—she’s high-strung. There’s no sneaking around my house at night because I’ve got a small, furry, high-pitched yappin’ alarm system. And she quickly learned the sounds of the neighborhood, so there aren’t any false alarms, either. After the settle in period, she’s barked hysterically at night twice. Once, something was dragging our garbage can around and the other time my car had been rummaged through. Even though she’s not going to rip anybody’s throat out, I sleep 100% better when the husband’s away now because I don’t have to lie awake, straining to hear the serial killer coming up the stairs.
I did fall asleep to the question of what I would do if she DID bark. The only weapon I have at hand is a small stun gun, which led me to wonder if that would work on a zombie.
Wouldn’t the electrical charge actually HELP the undead?
I guess if I was smart, I would have brought a lighter and a can of hairspray to bed, no?