I’m pretty sure, given my lifelong love affair for all things Duran Duran, that it’s no secret I grew up in the 1980s. It was a simpler, more fluorescent time then. So many things happened that influenced who Gen Xers are today. I’m not talking about the fall of the Berlin Wall, or Reaganomics, or the development of the modern Internet. I’m talking about the fine selection of horror films being produced for consumption by young, impressionable minds during that time period. Here are some valuable life lessons we all learned from those instructive films:

1. To kill a leprechaun, you must slingshot a four-leaf clover down his gullet. However, don’t expect him to stay dead. He’ll be back, at least five more times, and he wants his gold.

2. Don’t build your home on a Native American burial ground. Also, stuffed clowns are a terrible birthday gift idea. You might as well put out a doormat that reads POLTERGEISTS WELCOME HERE.

3. Speaking of bad birthday gifts, put that Good Guy doll right back on the shelf. You can’t be sure the spirit of a serial killer doesn’t possess that thing. Need a good gift? That puppet master down the road had some cool toys in his window.

4. To kill a bloodthirsty, machete-wielding murderer in a hockey mask, you need to put an axe through his head, kill him with his own machete, chain him to the bottom of the lake where he initially drowned, drag him back to the bottom of the lake again after he escapes, blow him up with a grenade, stab him with a mystical dagger, freeze him in cryonic suspension, or eject him into space. Of course, he’ll still come back. You thought the leprechaun was bad? He was child’s play compared to this guy!

5. Things to avoid: April Fool’s Day, prom night, graduation day, sleepaway camp, trolls, chopping malls, Motel Hell, and critters.

6. Speaking of malls: if there’s a zombie apocalypse happening all around you, do not go to the mall. Also not recommended: living in an underground military bunker where a commander whose mental state is questionable at best is conducting experiments on zombies; living near a cemetery.

7.  If your dad is offered a job as caretaker for the winter at a Colorado hotel, try to talk him out of it. If he’s truly taken a shine to the place, maybe you can live with friends for the winter or something. I’m sure Isaac and Malachai have room.

8. To fight vampires, you need stakes, holy water, and two Coreys. Though really, why fight them? If Keifer Sutherland and Jason Patric taught us nothing else, they did prove that vampires are sexy.

9. When buying a home, maybe avoid Elm Street. You thought the hockey mask guy was hard to kill? Ha! The only way to avoid Freddy Krueger is to take hypnocil and move the hell away from Elm Street. What about that nice split-level ranch in Haddonfield?

 10. Anything can be used as a murder weapon. Paper clips, horsehead bookends, chalkboard erasers, an eggplant . . . the possibilities are endless.

Kids today have no idea how hard it was to survive an ’80s horror movie. These days, they think if something’s not working for them, they can just reboot it. 

Pinheads.

I’m a planner. I like to have everything mapped out ahead of time, whether it’s my five-year career plan or my approach to the weekend laundry. So while all of you have been daydreaming your time away, I’ve been diagramming my plan for the zombie apocalypse. Because I think we can all agree that the zombie apocalypse is not an if scenario, but a when.

The three most important things to consider during the zombie apocalypse are as follows:

1. Where will I live?

2. What will I eat?

3. What will be my weapon of choice?

For me, living and eating go hand-in-hand. The basics of what I’ll need for food consist of protein, fruits/veggies, and fresh water. (Bet you thought I was going to say Double Stuf Oreos there. The world has ended. We’re going to have to make sacrifices, friends.) This is why I’m going to move to North Port, Florida during the zombie apocalypse. There’s a warm mineral spring there for fresh water, it’s near the ocean so I can fish, and there should be plenty of orange groves for fruit. I figure I can find a nice, gated retirement community, kill all the old-people zombies living there, and take it over. How will I get there, you ask? I’ve already designed my transportation. I call it a Spike Bike (patent pending). I’ll just ride down, and any zombies that cross my path along the way will be impaled on my front bike fender.

Of course, for the first year of the apocalypse, I can supplement my fish/orange/mineral water diet with supplies plundered from the grocery store. This will give me time to plant my cacao and coffee bean trees. As I said, some sacrifices will have to be made, but I’m not giving up my coffee or chocolate. We don’t have to turn into heathens, after all.

All that I have to worry about from there is my zombie-killing weapon. I love Daryl Dixon on The Walking Dead as much as the next gal, but a crossbow just isn’t efficient. He’d have to constantly be on the lookout for more ammunition. This is why I recommend a handheld, pointy instrument. Michonne’s choice of a katana sword makes a lot more sense to me. It’s sharp, it provides a bit of distance between her and the zombie, and it lops off heads like a hot knife through butter. However, why not take it one step further? Maybe increase the distance between your brains and the attacking zombie? This is why I’ll be spearing the undead with a giant whaling harpoon. Sure, it’s heavy and maybe awkward to lug around, but if it can kill a whale, surely it can take out a zombie or two.

Uh-oh. I just heard on the radio that toxic waste was discovered leaking into the East River. I’m sure the rest of you will feel pretty foolish in a few weeks. I’m going to grab my fishing pole and pedal off to North Port—see ya!