What to do (when) the zombie apocalypse happens

. . . according to Andrew.  The other night the power went out all around the Tacoma-Seattle area.  It was a pretty big deal.  Apparently not big enough to shut down my work for the day, or the University of Washington (to make sure Andrew's complaints are heard as well), I'm still mad at the winds for that one, but nonetheless, the storm created quite the havoc.  So what kind of preparations did we make at home, you ask?  Oh I'll tell you.  First, we found the flashlights and camping lamps, like responsible adults.  Then all of a sudden, Andrew stops dead in his tracks, squares my shoulders with him arms, and looks me directly in the eyes and asks me, "Bobbi, what would you need to do if the Zombie apocalypse JUST started?"  "Run?" I answer.  "Pfft, you'd be dead within hours," says the expert.  And so began our conversation for the next 30 minutes.

The official list of priorities and necessities is as follows:

1. Grab a weapon - something not too heavy, and not an axe (it would get stuck after you make contact)
2. Find walkie talkies and sync the channels
3. Find best friend Nick Baker
4. Gather all of the food and water you can carry/fit in the car

And that's it.  Tips on how to avoid zombies:

1. Stay away from places with lots of people, like hospitals or safety gatherings
2. Zombies like hot places, so go somewhere cold
3. If your spouse, family member, or friend gets bit, well, you know what you have to do

We finally decided we'd be headed for Wyoming!  haha  As ridiculous as it sounds, I actually felt a little bit safer.

Our best zombie interpretations (the best we could do in the dark) . . .

Andrew is growing a . .

 . . . MUSTACHE!!!  For Movember.  I laughed when he first told me about his idea, because he is always asking me to grow some kind of facial hair, and I'm just not the biggest fan of it, so (I know, I'm the most horrible wife ever) I always say no.  But not this time!  As funny as it is, it's for a great cause!  He decorated a little donation box to keep at work, and has officially registered as a 'stashe grower.  All proceeds go to awareness and funding for testicular cancer.  Here's the website with more information if you're interested.

The really funny part about Andrew growing a mustache is that he has practically invisible blonde hairs on his philtrum (who knew what that was?  Don't lie) which makes it look like he has two small patches of hair on either side of that little dip.  His solution?  Dye it.  I'm not kidding.  He used hair dye to color the blonde patch, so as to make it appear he can grow a decent mustache.  When he told me what he was doing, I told him he could only do it IF . . . 1. he let me take pictures of the process, and 2. he let me post them on our blog.

Thankfully, you won't find this handsome face on the national sex offender registry.

Before

During: The Peanut Butter Stage

During: The Chunky Spicy Dijon Mustard Stage

After

http://www.funlol.com/11007/Testicular_cancer_song.html

Happy Halloween (just a week later)

I'm not really big on the scary/gory aspects of Halloween.  I like the cutesy decorations, and the fun costumes.  Unfortunately for Andrew being scared is one of my LEAST favorite things, so I refuse(d) to watch a "true" Halloween movie with him.  Instead he watched a movie with his dad and I had a friend over and we watched "Teen Witch."  It was awesome . . .

Last year Andrew and I discovered we have this incredible talent of patience and persistence when it comes to pumpkin carving, so we did a lot of it.  The best way to describe our antics last year would be that compared to a crack addict . . . we ran around in the dark, rainy parts of downtown Tacoma frantically searching for an open grocery store with just 2 more pumpkins!  Due to very busy schedules this year, we weren't able to pull off the TEN pumpkins like we did last year, but I got in 3 and Andrew did 4.  My hands are sore from picking out ONE MILLION (no more, no less) pumpkin seeds in order to roast those delicious suckers.  Andrew's excuse for not helping was his claim that "pumpkin goo" is good for your skin, and he'd hate to deprive me of the softest, most gelatinous hands.  *Gelatinous was my word, not his . . . good word, huh?

Here are the beauties . . .

Back to school . . . back to school . . .

"Back to school.  Back to school, to prove to Dad that I'm not a fool.  I got my lunch packed up, my boots tied tight, I hope I don't get in a fight!  Back to school . . . back to school.  Well, here goes nothing!"

As we get back into the grind of things, we have already started to miss summer break.  Not that it was much of a summer to begin with, but nonetheless, 20 credit quarters and a 20 hour work week is never really anything to look forward to.  Due to the stupidity that is the University of Washington, I am not going to school this quarter, but rather I am working (a lot) to fill the time.  Andrew is a crazy person taking 4 senior classes, and loving them, of course.  Because he has little to no control over what I say here, I'd like to add that he has been on the Dean's list for the past 2 quarters and I am SO proud of him!  We both graduate next year (I know, finally)!  We are looking forward to new adventures to come!

Just to preface the following picture, you all need to know that Andrew whined to me (really, he whined) about not having a 'first day of school' outfit.  Since he only went to 2 of his 4 classes on the technical first day, we *argued (see definition below) about getting TWO first day of school outfits.  He walked out of the store with ONE outfit (we all know who has the final say).  And to preface the preface, my mom used to make us stand in front of the bus every year on the first day of school so she could take our pictures.  I road the bus to school until my junior year of high school . . . need I say more?  So I made Andrew do the same kind of thing.  Please note the cute little lunch box, which had a delicious, healthy lunched packed into it, and his slightly weighted down backpack home to the brand new Macbook Pro.  We are now accepting donations to help pay for the medics I needed when he swiped our card at the Apple store.

. . . "Come on, Andrew, give me a good smile" . . .

Getting into his car 

And because I couldn't leave this face out of a blog post, here's me in my snazzy "no one will EVER see you, but at least you look nice" work attire. I cheated and took the picture today . . . like my new hair cut and glasses?

*"To argue" in this case means to banter lovingly and laugh over how ridiculous the other person is, it by no means has anything in common with the actual definition