Latest Blog Post

The misadventures of a clumsy girl in the crypt

As someone with what people call "two left feet," I’ve always felt a little disheartened since developing an interest in activities that require agility and coordination. But I’ve never let that stop me.

I started practicing martial arts at a young age and trained with weapons in my backyard—just so I could one day go hunting without accidentally shooting myself (somehow). But the opportunity to hunt came a bit sooner than I’d fully mastered the skill. And let me tell you — it wasn’t pretty.

There I was, all geared and dressed up — well, mostly ─, arriving at the cemetery. I clutched the pass tightly between my fingers, closed my eyes, and stepped into the crypt. For a brief moment, I felt confident… until I saw a zombie. I froze, then bolted to the farthest corner I could find — only to spot another one. I ran again, my breath ragged, but I mustered the strength to steady myself, take a deep breath, and grab my shotgun.

I aimed. I fired.

And hit another hunter standing nearby.

Needless to say, he was 'a little' upset. Just a tad. To the point where, at some stage, I was being chased by dozens of zombies AND a hunter out for revenge. John Wick, was that you?

But by then, I’d calmed down enough to land a few shots on some hungry creatures (yes, that includes other hunters who were starving). I emerged with my pride wounded, my ego bruised, my legs scraped up from all the tripping and falling, and a measly tally of two hundred dead zombies before passing out cold in that haunted place.

I’ve gotten much better since then. At least now, I don’t hit any hunters… unless I mean to.