Hump Day List Post

Virgo:: Say the following words aloud, please: "Give it to me raw!" How does it make you feel when you allow that demand to come out of your mouth? I hope it fills you with a sense of playful power. If you're in alignment with cosmic influences, "Give it to me raw!" is a pithy embodiment of your proper relationship with the world. Now try these corollary statements: "I want the full blast of purity! Don't hold anything back! Serve me up the maximum dose! I want the elixir of life, not the hors d'oeuvres! Bless me with the whole truth and nothing but! I'm in love with the flood, not the trickle!"

So many dirty things I could say to that, really.

1. Got Psyche done last night! And really, I'm thrilled to see how it turned out. I had Sarah help me with sizing it last night, and I can honestly say it's one of those pieces that really comes to life once it touches skin. Two layers of silver-lined glass, freshwater pearl, silver bead caps, silver wire, plus an opaque pink opal pendant-- completely hand-linked, it took me nearing four hours to complete. But it's shiny and glowy-- it was greeted with lots of oohs and aahs. And it'll be heading off to lizrocks tomorrow morning.

2. Got an incredible care package from Joy on Monday. Really, really lovely. As a backstory, Joy and I didn't really know each other in college. She directed me in Something's Afoot, but other than that, we didn't have a friendship. Long story short, she moved to California, and through the magic of the internet, we became friends and have been exchanging letters and care packages. In Monday's package-- a wonderful letter written on stationary from the Mucha museum in Prague (she didn't know that some of my favorite stationery comes from there-- Aster even brought me some back when she visited!), two handcarved figurines representing solitude and love, a celestial mirror that Dixie and I will hang downstairs, and a beautiful treasure reliquary full of beads! It was all wrapped in beautiful handmade paper, twine, ribbon, and tags full of quotes. Really, quite extroardinary. I'm excited that I get to hug Joy in person for it!

3. Dinner with Brandie / sylfae & Bart went really well on Monday. Brandie cooks a mean veggie Indian chickpea and masala dish. The boys geeked out about D&D (Bart's sitting in on Sky's next session), and Brandie and I talked about... other things. Ahem. And there were blondies! A good time was had by all.

4. I have decided that if I ever write my memoirs, they will be entitled 'Straight Girl Flypaper.'

5. California tickets purchased!

6. Got hit on by the conductor of a moving metro train yesterday. I think that's a first. It's like getting yelled at from the driver's side of a pickup truck, only cubed.


... and that's all I got today.

Late to the party.

Sorry I haven't been on-- I'm fine so far. Things are odd and hectic, as many of you have already noted. Hah. All things considered, things are relatively stable here-- I've got none of shadowcaptain's zombie military or any of sabine42's evil cats. I was at work when things started getting dicey this morning, but that's not that bad a place to be. We've got windowless rooms here, sturdy metal doors in the warehouse. We can hold off for awhile. Good thing Dom brought bagels in this morning-- those will last a few days. And a water-cooler. There's a distinct lack of weapons, though. That could be problematic if we need to make supply runs. At least Jason's with me on this. He's read the Handbook, we're good. I hope.

I'm suprised I got through at all-- out internet's been spotty at best. No TV. Phones are worse. I can't get ahold of my mother on any of her numbers, and haven't heard from Skyler since lunchtime. His cell keeps going to voicemail, and I'm starting to worry. He's in the middle of the city, in a fairly populous building. I don't know if he biked to work or what this morning. I hope he took a car. I hope he's okay. All the books say to take a bike, but I bet downtown's a fucking madhouse.

At any rate, I was sitting at my desk at about eleven this morning when I heard a thud. I looked outside the glass doors of the office, and there was a guy laying there, twitching. I was through the first door, yelling for Sara to call an ambulance when the guy got up and started scratching at the glass. Left a bloody mess everywhere. Took me a minute to realize I could see his ribcage through his teeshirt. The black shirt hid most of the gore.

Yeah, I backed up real damn quick. Screamed like a girl, too.

We blocked off the door with cardboard, then braced it with Harry's desk. There was a crowd of 'em outside by then, though. I think hot pink hair may not have been the most inconspicuous choice for a zombie uprising. Zombie. How fucking nuts is that? I've read book after book about zombies, I yell at stupid characters in zombie movies, and when there's an actual uprising, I almost pissed my pants. At least they're the Romero-style ones. Nice and slow and dumb. I think if they were those fast motherfuckers, I'd kindly off myself now. How's that for optimism?

Maybe that's why the intern never made it in today.

Gotta go, power's flickering. I'll check in when next I can.


BLITEOTW.

Home again, home again

I'm back at Skyler's. Turns out, the whole staying at work thing was not such a good idea. The adjoining building caught fire at quarter to 5pm. The 'barricading ourselves in' strategy doesn't so much work if your shelter's on fire. Reports have been that most of Pikesville is completely closed off to any vehicular traffic. Everyone's banded together and started regular patrols and stakeout-points. It's a hard line, well guarded. Better not to chance it. I'm just sayin', in the case of crisis, trust the Jews to come up with a great survival plan*. They survived 40 years in the desert-- next to that, a zombie apocalypse is practically a hiccup. Unfortunately, this means that I cannot get home. Which sucks-- Dixie's house is pretty defensible, all things considered. The windows are high off the ground, you can barricade the stairs and doors; retreat upstairs if possible. There's even a tree next to my window for escape.

So plan B was to get to Skyler's. Work people dispersed before I could suggest that it would make more sense to stick together. Typical, doing the exact wrong thing in the case of emergency. Not that I can claim much different-- things started going to hell, and I just wanted to be somewhere familiar, somewhere my boyfriend would know where to find me. Since the Metro was not an option, Sara offered to ride me into Mount Washington.

Most of the ride was uneventful-- a wreck here or there, but there wasn't much to see on 795. It wasn't until we got off 695 that things got real interesting. An old lady feasting on a Fedex guy. I always was a little creeped out that Fedex trucks have no driver-side doors. We ran over one zombie in the middle of the road. Made a horrible thump. Eugh. Anyway, there were huge burning wrecks right at the corner of Greenspring and Smith, making the final stretch completely impassible. I wished Sara godspeed, then started walking the mile to his apartment. I had my hair wrapped in a black DDI shirt; I figured that was probably less likely to draw attention. I stole a shovel from the first backyard I came across. It's not a great weapon, but it's something. Thank god I wore my Docs today. Soft and quiet. I can't imagine if I'd worn heels.

The first thing I noticed was the stench in the air. Singed flesh and hair, sickness and disease. The streets were eerily quiet, save one house with the door wide open off the hinges and the television blaring a soundtrack of gunfire and screaming. It started to rain-- big fat drops that made the sizzling asphalt smell like the bottom of an empty swimming pool. As I walked, it got quieter-- only a few big houses and a few half-finished developments. Not a huge threat until I got closer to Bonnie Ridge. A bus was overturned; there was a madly yowling, dismboweled zombie pinned beneath a wheel, and hands clamoring through the broken glass. I broke out in a run.

I almost got the two blocks to his door without seeing another deadhead. Of course there was one right between me and the door. Of course. A big, lumbering fat one. Just my luck. It started howling, and I knew I needed to shut it up before it attracted more. It took a few hard swings of the shovel to the head, but eventually, I cracked its skull. I was careful to close my mouth and eyes. It was messy. I swear, the fifteen seconds it took me to get the door open with my shaking hands felt like an eternity. Just as I slipped inside, I saw another one lurch towards me from across the street.

So, I'm safe, for the time being. I've barricaded the sliding door with the sofa and a bookshelf. I've never been so happy that Sky's a geek-- as I type, I've got a shiny, sharp katana next to me. I've got the internet. Top news at CNN-- the Olsen twins are finally eating. Er, other people... but it's a start, right?

Night's falling. I'm nervous. I still haven't heard from Skyler. Russell and Joe aren't home. I'm terrified. I'm alone. And every now and again I hear the most sickening sounds from next door. Someone, something scratching against the wall. I won't be getting any rest tonight.

I need to go to the kitchen and take stock of non perisha

God. God. Something's at the door.



BLITEOTW.

*World War Z, by Max Brooks