The other night B and I watched the horror movie, Quarantine. It is a zombie filled, apocalyptic and claustrophobic flick about a virus that has wrecked havoc in a very cool eclectic apartment building (well I like the main staircase anyway). Everyone is quarantined inside with no hope of being let out. Can you guess the ending? Well, there is a twist.....anyway.....I didn't think it was that scary. There's something about zombie pictures that make me laugh, the arms out straight, laughable hygiene and herky jerky movement. Of course, my husband will always pipe in and say,
"OF COURSE, you didn't think it was that scary, Beth. You didn't ACTUALLY watch all of it."
And he's right, I kind of like my own self inflicted editing. I wait for my husband to jump and THEN look.
Which all leads me up to the end of the evening when we are both battening down the hatches (as he likes to call it) and he comes around the corner and scares the bejezus out of me. I of course, scream bloody murder and violently push him away as he bumps into me....
"What are you doing?" he asks, kind of annoyed with me as I tend to over-react to things.
"Ohhhhh, I can't help it I thought you were a zombie!"
Ten minutes later on the late late evening news right before we turn off the boob tube, there it was ...footage of Woody Harrelson fighting off an unwanted camera man. And Woody explained later that he had mistaken the camera man for a flesh eating zombie!
B and I looked at each other, "See I said. There IS such a thing as a zombie defense!"