I have oh so many things to catch up on over here. I feel like I’ve taken a summer break from blogging. It’s been nice. I hope to get some of our recent stories up soon. But folks. I felt the need to share about my first experience with The Walking Dead last night.
Scott finally convinced me to watch The Walking Dead with him yesterday. I am so far behind that band wagon. In fact, I never thought I would jump on that band wagon. Because I’m the girl that has to change the channel (or close my eyes/plug my ears) if there is a scary commercial on TV. So flesh eating zombies? NO. THANK YOU.
But Scott was hooked and kept telling me that despite the gore, there is a good story line/good characters/I would enjoy it. So while we were enjoying our Sunday afternoon tradition of sitting on the couch (ahem) I decided to give it a go. I was transfixed from moment one. And by transfixed, I mean that half way through the second scene, I turned to him and said, “Oh, so we’re basically going to watch my worst nightmare play out on screen, huh?”
He laughed and said, “Yes.”
During the first serious, grody, gory, scary scene, I turned to him and said “Oh, so you’re cool with doing all of our laundry from here on out, right? Because there is NO WAY I’m ever going in a basement again.”
He just laughed.
And then at the end of the first episode, I said “Well. I have to watch the second one!”
Scott said we needed to go get frozen yogurt so my stress level/blood pressure could return to normal. Good man.
I don’t know what it is, but I HAD to keep watching! I do love a good “end of world” story, but I’m usually more of an Armageddon girl than a flesh-eating zombie fan.
And I thought I was enjoying it. I was playing it cool. I closed my eyes (often) to try to prevent having scary images in my head. Until I woke up at 3 am with horrible images glued to the front of my brain. I tossed, I turned. I tried, in vain, to think of other things besides creepy, dead things. I nudged Scott. I bumped him. Nothing was waking this guy up! Finally, I just tapped him on the shoulder until he woke up and asked, sweetly, if we could cuddle. I figure he wanted me to watch the show, why should he get to sleep if I couldn’t? Wife of the year award, I know.
So. Despite having visions of zombies dancing in my head, I think I’m hooked. I just need to learn how to not get so darn invested in what I’m watching. I mean, I had some major stress out moments. And I just kept asking, “But WHY is this happening? How did it START? Why aren’t they TELLING me!?”
Glowing review, no? I tried to get a picture to add to this post, but I got uncomfortable looking at the images that came up on the google search. I can tell this is going to be a love/hate relationship.
Hopefully I get to watch more tonight!
Happy Monday and cheers to a short work week!