How to Survive a Zombie Attack

     This morning my team and I headed off to fight the oncoming wave of zombies in Gulfport.  My team, DOA (Dead on Arrival) consisted of myself, my husband, my little brother, my older sister, and her husband.  We arrived to what looked like just another 5K, with one major difference:

   
     Zombies!  Playing bagpipes?  Well, just this one at least.  The rest were trying to steal the tags we were wearing around our waists.  The goal is to finish with at least one tag per team.  We started with three tags per team member, so a total of fifteen tags.  You'd think it would be easy, but it wasn't.  We crawled under chicken wire, slid down a wet slope, ran through zombie-infested woods, and waded through deep mud holes all before we were halfway to the finish line.  At this point J lost both of his shoes, and as he searched for them a zombie came up behind him to snatch his remaining two tags.  I had lost all of mine, so I shouted for him to look out, and ran to block the zombie.  That's when we found out that not all the zombies on this run would be the slow, easily avoided "walkers".  This one took off after him, and chased him deeper into the course.  She finally gave up, and J kept his two tags, but it had cost him his shoes. Our team took the moment to regroup, and we found we were down to 3 tags total.  J had two, and my sister had one.  As my little brother and I went back to search for J's missing shoes, the rest caught their breaths in preparation for what was next.  The zombie who was guarding the mud pit that ate J's shoes gave us a good tip.  If we could snatch a tag back from a zombie or find one on the course, we could keep it and have a better chance of surviving.  I ran back to the group with the news.  J left his remaining tags with the group and returned to the mud pit with me to regain a few more.

Wading through the muck.

That's not a tag!

   
     He didn't find any tags, but he did get one shoe back.  He was a champ and decided to continue the course in his socks.  After that point the zombies became more and more aggressive.  As did we.  After making it out of the muck in the woods, my brother and I decided to double back to sneak up on a zombie who had a handful of tags in her fist.  Her back was to us as we approached, and I was reaching out to grab a tag from her when another runner shouted for her to look out.  The zombie turned in time to move the tags from my grasp, and the other runner used that as her chance to get past with her last tag still attached to her waist.  Frustrated, we moved on.

     At this point we were adopted by some little teenager who had left his dad in the beginning.  This kid helped us block off zombies, and tried to help us win back some tags a time or two.  As our group moved from the zombie infested woods to the open grass, we saw the next obstacle: a series of hay bales you had to climb only to get to the other side where zombies on steroids were waiting for you.  My little brother and I decided we would be the blockers for J.  We were successful in getting him through the first batch of zombies with both tags in tact, but  when we went back for my sister, J decided to go ahead alone.  He lost both of his tags, and my sister lost her last one.  Thinking we were near the finish line, we accepted defeat and assumed the zombie position.

I don't make a good zombie.

     We were wrong to think it was over.  Just ahead was a mock quicksand pit made of water and cornstarch with two zombies.  We noticed another group that only had one tag left, so we figured what the heck, we'll help them guard their last tag and hopefully find another one in the bargain.

Digging through the muck.

     My sister went into full country girl mode when one of the tutued zombies tried to steal the tag off the other team.  She tackled her, and almost won the tag back, but then she lost her footing in the goo and had to let it go.  She tried really hard to find another one though.  Soon we had to accept defeat again and move on.  This is where our luck started to turn around.  We came to the next station, where we could shoot paintball guns at zombies in an attempt to hit them in the head and win back a tag.  Our men were successful, as were a few members of the other group.  We continued on with a new spring in our step.

J took out a zombie with a head shot on the first try.

Our men are heroes.

     After this our two groups merged into one machine in survival mode.  We made it through the next group of nurses/doctors-turned-zombies.  Then we came to another tag challenge where we would have two shots to shoot a real (moving) zombie in the head with a Nerf bow and arrow.  I'll admit here that my archery skills are nonexistent.  The zombie in footie pajamas actually laughed at me.  No one won back a tag on this challenge, but we found a few more along the way.  Before we rounded the next curve we tallied it up, and we found that everyone had a tag but me.  We then had to jump a few hurdles with zombies waiting between each jump, and J lost his hard-won tag.  I suddenly became a bodyguard for my little brother as he went through the last obstacle.  Finally we ran into the last zombie of the race.  Although I knew I'd be considered a survivor because my teammates had tags, I couldn't help but want to finish with a  tag of my own.  So when I noticed that the zombie facing me had a tag between his teeth, I grinned.  He grinned back when he saw what I was thinking, and I lunged at him.  He swerved, but I was determined not to be thwarted again.  I tackled him, got him on the ground, and literally ripped the tag from his teeth.  I was more proud of that tag than anything else, teeth marks and all.  We finally crossed the finish line as survivors.  The team we adopted made it through alive as well.  It was such a fun-filled day, and we all enjoyed ourselves immensely.

     We did lose one along the way...

RIP J's shoes June 2008-April 2013

     But we managed to survive...

Or did we?

Coming soon: How to Survive a Zombie Attack, the video.

*If anyone is interested, here is the link to the Zombie Run.  Proceeds benefit the Smile Train, which helps children with cleft pallets get corrective surgery.*

Everyone's Infected

     Alright y'all, I've finally done it.  I've jumped on the Walking Dead bandwagon.  I admit it.  I'm addicted.  J had the bright idea to introduce me to the series the day I started my A&P II class.  You know, that class that I have to focus really hard on, because it's my last main prerequisite before Nursing school.  At first, I swore I'd never watch another episode because I had night sweats after the first episode, but then I got to the part where the scientist explained the "science" behind the disease, and now I'm good.  Being afraid of zombies is about on the same level as being afraid of dinosaurs.  However, I still have an overly active imagination, and I swear I see zombies everywhere.  Thursday morning as I was driving to class I saw this kid walking to school on the side of the road, but the way he was limping really slow, with his arms swinging wildly by his sides, had me ready to scream, "Walker!". It turned out he was just trying to be gangster, and apparently he couldn't move too well with his pants halfway to the ground.  I laughed at myself before heading to school.  During my Public Speaking class, I noticed a janitor roaming around outside the classroom, moving very slowly, limping slightly.  I caught myself looking around the room in search of a blunt object for self defense in case this turned out to be another zombie, but then I caught myself and had to roll my eyes at my own hyperactive imagination.  Finally I was heading home from a study group after school, and that's when I saw the worst sight yet.  An elderly woman was walking along the side of the road, and I noticed that her face look horribly disfigured, even from a distance.  There was something seriously wrong with the lines of her jaw and nose, so much so that I couldn't simply laugh off the siren in my head screaming, "Walker! Walker!"  That is, until I got close enough to see that her glasses were sitting low on the bridge of her nose, and this was causing a glare and giving her the "disfigured" look.  I think I need to take a break from the land of zombies and hang out in reality for a while.  At least until reality stops looking like something out of Hollywood, or at least something a little more attractive from Hollywood would be nice.

     If nothing else, this show has sparked some seriously interesting conversations between my husband and myself.  It started with our debate about the legitimacy of an actual zombie, and it's been all downhill from there.  He thinks it would be interesting to see society start up from the beginning again. I find myself just wondering what the heck we'd eat.  I'm not a picky eater, but I like my kitchen and my ability to play around in there.  I think I'd miss food the most in a post-apocalyptic society.  Especially stuff like this:

Paula Deen's Chicken Fried Chicken, Smashed Potatoes, & Milk Gravy

Chicken Fried Chicken
2/3 cup whole buttermilk
2 large eggs
2 sleeves saltine crackers
1 cup all-purpose flour
2 TBS seasoned salt
6 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, pounded to 1/2" thickness
Vegetable oil for frying

In a shallow dish, whisk together buttermilk and eggs.  In a separate shallow dish, combine crushed crackers, flour, and seasoned salt.  Line a rimmed baking sheet with aluminum foil.  Place a cooling rack over baking sheet.  Dip chicken in buttermilk mixture, letting excess drip off.  Dredge in cracker mixture to coat.  Place chicken on prepared cooling rack, and let stand for 20 minutes to set crust.  In a large skillet, pour oil to depth of 1/2".  Heat oil over medium-high heat to 360 degrees.  Fry chicken in batches for 4-6 minutes per side or until chicken is golden brown and cooked through.  Set chicken on a clean cooling rack, and keep warm.  Reserve 2 TBS drippings for the gravy.  

Home Style Milk Gravy
2 TBS dripping from chicken
4 TBS all-purpose flour
3 cups whole milk
1/2 tsp salt
1 1/2 tsp black pepper

In a large skillet, hear reserved 2 TBS drippings over medium-high heat.  Add flour, whisking constantly for 2 minutes.  Slowly add milk, whisking constantly.   Cook for 8-10 minutes or until thickened, whisking constantly.  Stir in salt and pepper.  Serve immediately.

Perfect Smashed Potatoes
3 lbs red potatoes, quartered
3/4 cup butter, softened
1 (8 oz) package cream cheese, softened
1 cup sour cream
2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp ground black pepper

In a large Dutch oven, add potatoes and water to cover.  Bring to a boil over medium-high heat.  Reduce heat, and simmer for 8-10 minutes or until potatoes are tender; drain well.  Add butter, cream cheese, sour cream, salt, and pepper; mask with a potato masher until desired consistency.

Of course we don't eat stuff like this everyday, but nothing beats this much love on a beautiful Sunday afternoon like today's.  Enjoy :-)