The zombie final, it is over.  My undead has risen above the rest.

And this is lovely, because let’s be honest, it’s probably the only accolade I will receive for my creative endeavors.  I’d like to thank the academy for answering my bribes appeals.  You like me, you might sort of like me. 

Though, an anonymous commenter o’er the zombie contest site (soon to return to the zombie-free, writerly arena) said of me, “Who was the winner? A 29 yr old beat out a teenager? Should have had it in age groups.”

I find this interesting, because how did you know I am 29, anonymous commenter, while at the same time knowing the other writer was a teenager?  And why is my being 29 such a zombie-writing asset?  Am I too old to have entered?  Here is what my week looked like:

Sunday Went to Sunday school.  Played board games.
Monday Read Twilight by Stephanie Meyer.
Tuesday Aimlessly surfed Facebook, then later stood on stage at the hospital and sang a song about driving because my 13-year-old patient dared me to do it (and it was broadcast to the entire hospital, thank you very much), and the 13-year-old told me “never audition for American Idol.” Then after I got home I madly texted everyone I know, “OMG, VOTE CUZ I WUD H8 TO LOOS.”

One could look at this and think I am, in fact, 13.  If you ignore my motivation for the activities, namely employment, my dissertation, and megalomaniacism.  But you hear what I’m saying . . .

And lets not ignore the fact that I live with over 200 teenagers.  In a dorm.  Most of whom were the people who voted for me for the victory in the first place.  So, technically speaking, I think I won because I know more teenagers. 

Alas.  Truly I am not meant for fame.  I want only to revel in the glow of destroying honoring SARK’s work, but there are those who would take that away.  I’ll stick to this corner of the world from now on, I think.