Zombies, Nudists, and Antarctica

I’m not obsessed with zombies. Really. I’m obsessed with the idea that in one strange moment I could go from being in a snit about the weather to terrified that I can’t get out of the house because the yard is filled with the undead.

Yes, I watch too much TV.

But you have to admit that it’s fascinating to think about what would happen if cyborgs invaded your favorite restaurant mid-entrée or if aliens took over your favorite work-out place while you’re sweating on the treadmill. I think of this often, which is why I never miss a chance to tell my DH or any family member that I love him/her, just in case the zombies come and I’m stuck in traffic trying to get back from lunch and never see them again because the vampire hordes took over.

My latest concern about the zombie/cyborg/alien/whatever-else-will-keep-me-awake-at-night apocalypse stems from my nudist tendencies. I don’t like clothes. Never have and never will. So, consequently, I go without them whenever possible. I sleep naked whenever possible, which thrills my DH to no end, but doesn’t bode well for sudden emergencies such as fires, tornadoes, invading stampedes of possessed toy dolls, etc. Yes, I keep my skivvies by the bedside, but when the wave of the flesh-munchers invades, will I be able to get dressed in time to make a run for it? What if I can’t? How long can I survive without clothing in a world where I must face the creepiest of creepies mano y mano or risk a no-win tussle with the elements?

I think of these things and just when I convince myself that, yes, even with my naked ways I could probably figure out a way to survive the onslaught of zombies, I get on Yahoo and all my best mental pep talks are ruined.

For example, the other day I found an article about a hypothetical situation in which a virus caused a zombie apocalypse. The article asserted that movies portray the spread of the disease illogically, because although a virus would spread rampantly through a city with millions of people, it would slow down as the population grew sparser. And the population grows sparser when it moves toward cooler climates. The article touted Glacier State Park as a really good location to avoid the worst of the zombie invasion.


Do you know how cold glaciers are? It’s not like you can wear tank tops and sundresses and hang out on a glacier. Therefore, my interpretation of this is that…

I’m screwed.

If I continue in my anti-clothing ways, I’m never going to make it to the non-zombie camp in Antarctica or even to the slightly colder regions of the US (Heaven knows my region is cold enough). In other words, if I want to live past the first wave of those-who-want-to-chew-my-bones, I need to have clothing at the ready at all points in time. That, I feel, puts a definite cramp in my style, given “clothing at the ready” for me means possibly a T-shirt by my bedside.

I suppose I shouldn’t worry about it, but I do. However, I turn it into something positive. I think about what a great story it would make: a nudist colony fighting an attack by zombies on the hunt for human flesh. Who would win? How hard would the nudists fight for their right to stay naked no matter what?

I know I’d fight pretty hard, but that’s just me. And that’s enough of this post for right now. I’m off to work on my next story, which is about—you guessed it—a nudist colony. Can’t wait to finish the fifth chapter. Will post an excerpt soon.

Happy Reading!

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