People often remark I look tired, stressed, overworked…scattered. I try to tell them it isn’t my fault! Yes, I work hard, don’t sleep enough and have waaaay too much to do…but what really gets me? Is the universe’s craptastically odd sense of humor. I submit my evidence for the day.
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In the last year and a half I have been attacked by Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers, a duo of grabby-feely aliens who strolled into a Marriot hotel bar, a vampire in a top hat and a group of over-enthusiastic Jedi Knights that were hell-bent on presenting me with a light saber. I’ve even weathered a duct tape attack by Michael Rooker, a katana swipe by Anthony Guajardo and a chokehold by Norman Reedus…but I guess I asked for those. People who spend enough time around me almost always feel compelled to head to the nearest store for duct tape. Don’t ask.
Yes, my life as the Commander in Chief of the Zombie Survival Crew definitely has its’ moments. When the adventures do not include possible threats to my physical well-being I actually quite enjoy them.
And seeing as I’ve survived thus far…they all get filed away in the “funny little stories” department at Zombie Survival Crew Command. Usually to be pulled out by other commanders (*points at LK Gardner-Griffie*) at the precise moment when they’re likely to cause me the most chagrin.
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But being the Chief also has its perks, or so I thought as I surveyed the gathering at IronE Singleton’s house this past weekend for the Season 3 premiere of AMC’s mega-hit The Walking Dead. I mean, T-Dog was in the house!!!!! Literally! And they had red, black and gray-colored M&Ms in a serving bowl with skeleton-hand handles—it doesn’t get any better than that! Although the deviled eggs covered in paprika and some funky onion thing I couldn’t identify were so flippin’ tasty I did hang just a tad too close, for too long, to the serving area to be decent. Right. Not creepy at all. Anyway…
The best part was watching the premiere with a group of people who obviously love the show as much as I do. It made a very nice change from my normal routine—which involves me, in my bed, under the blankets, cringing, shouting like a maniac at the TV at regular intervals…and hoping the neighbors don’t decide to call the police. The assembly screamed encouragement as T-Dog put a fire poker through a walker’s face, cringed as the survivor group fought its’ way into the prison, gagged and choked as Hershel underwent an impromptu operation and roared with approval when the final scene ended.
The Walking Dead not only delivered, the show hit it so far out of the park it’ll be well into 2013 before anyone can even think of recovering that ball!
And that’s when it all went south…
You see they had this cool photo shoot area set up where people were taking pictures with IronE and Michael Rooker, who had shown up to turn the party on its ear with his fantastic running commentary during the premiere. I figured this was my chance to get a nice professional-type photo with two men I admire as actors and adore as people.
But Michael decided he wasn’t happy with our outfits and proceeded to make some changes. During the melee that ensued, IronE got to keep his shoes, but I lost mine and my carefully coiffed hairdo went the way of the dodo. My picture ended up being comprised of one giggling thespian, a bad ass and someone who looks like she fell off the back of a potato truck! You know? If you sing that refrain to the tune of the 12 Days of Christmas, it kind of works. Just sayin’….
Until next time…carry anti-bacterial hand soap, avoid sidewalk creatures and never get near a video camera if I’m in the vicinity.
