Daphne Orgone was one of the most refreshing new voices in superheroine fiction
when she made her debut in 2005 with her Yahoo RPG Bronze Babe and Friends, and
then with her blog – witty and even wise, as youÕll see here in this
archive, posted here back in 2007 in case the original vanished into cybernowhere. That SuperDaph homepage's links include several to other similar blogs, and her profile there to yet another. She has made a comeback in 2015 with a new and entirely different kind of superheroine, Fiona of Fail .
The Adventures of Super Daph
I'm just your average drop dead gorgeous invulnerable super powered young teenaged girl, honest. Actually, I'm very few of those things, but I am interested in what you might think of my writing experiment
If you could peer far enough into the night sky, you'd see a star in any direction you looked. When would you sleep?
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Hey guys and gals and welcome to my little piece of the world wide web where I can let my hair down and tell all. See, hereÕs the thing, although I try my best to fit in with everyone else, IÕm not. IÕm different and always have been. Oh sure, in some ways, IÕm just like any other teenaged girl. I have feelings and issues and I can go to pieces over stuff that no sane mature human being would give a hoot about. But, well, if you prick me, I donÕt bleed. Matter of fact, you can shoot me or run me over with a truck and I still wonÕt bleed.
All this sort of makes my life complicated, and I decided to write this little blog to try, like therapeutically to sort things out sometimes. Sometimes, well, I need that, like someone to talk to about things, things that I canÕt just talk to anyone about, at least not, well at least not all the time, on account of, well, its like.. you know that old comic book, Richie Rich? The one about the poor little rich kid? My dad collects them, only, well, its sort of like that. Its kind of wacky to feel sorry fro someone whoÕs got it better than most other people, and yet, having a few advantages doesnÕt make you happier, necessarily, nor do they necessarily make up for the disadvantages.
Anyway, enough of this for now. I gotta head out now and do some stuff before school. IÕll try and write some more tonight.
Thursday, October 27, 2005
I hate gym class
I hate gym class
Yesterday was a perfectly example of why. IÕm sort of freaky about my body, on account of IÕm not exactly made like most other girls. Oh, the pieces and parts are all the same, at least superficially, but the thing is, thereÕs all sorts of weird stuff about me that IÕm sure somebodyÕs gonna notice.
The biggest things are without doubt my boobs. TheyÕre big, at least for my height, but theyÕre like overly perky. In fact, theyÕre not at all natural looking at least in my view. Quite honestly, theyÕd probably look great on some porn star, but girls my age donÕt usually have breast implants. I donÕt, but it sure looks like it sometimes, because they donÕt sag right. Mom says IÕm making too big of a deal out of it, and them, too but I could swear that one of the other girls was staring at them the other day while I was getting dressed.
ThereÕs other stuff thatÕs sort of weird about me, too, but it doesnÕt like jump out at you like they do. For example, thereÕs the whole body hair thing. I donÕt get razor stubble. I donÕt even own a razor. Mercifully, I donÕt have a whole lot of body hair, but when it does come time to get rid of it, the best way IÕve found to deal with it is with a mirror and a whole lot of staring on my part, until the whole heat vision thing kicks in. Talk about tedious!!!
Anyway, what happened the other day, thereÕs this girl, lets call her Jane. ThatÕs not her real name, but she sort of looks like a Jane. IÕve known Jane for years, and while weÕre not exactly best friends, we sort of get along ok, and when she told me she really wanted to impress a guy, and É why I donÕt know, but she figured sheÕd do it by being super basketball chick, I figured IÕd try to help her out. I got Jane the ball É a lot, and I got her the ball where she could score some serious points. Its not all that hard when you can move way faster than any of the other girls and can pretty much throw the ball wherever you want it to go to do things like that. So Jane like scored oodles of points, and I figured things would be great.
Well, I was wrong. By the time class was over, Jane was all sweaty and gross, and I was getting dirty looks from just about everyone, except for the coach. I know the budgets are tight and all, but girls gym classes ought to have women coaches. Coach Collins is a nice guy, but, if thereÕs one thing IÕve learned from having X-ray vision, its that nice guys get hard ons too, and so when he came up to me at the end of class and started to talk to me about trying out for the basketball team, lets just say it was sort of hard to keep things in perspective. Like that clipboard thing really works. He was real persistent though, and in the end, I agreed to try out for the team, if my parents would agree.
But then, when we started to get dressed, Jane kept looking at me. It was, well, creepy, almost, the same way it feels when IÕm out, not as me, but the costume and kicking some bad guy butt. Only then, well, IÕm sort of asking for it, using my body as a weapon so to speak. No one stops when a 5Õ2Ó blonde in glasses and a sweatshirt yells stop, but youÕd be amazed at how different it is when I wear something tight and clingy. But thereÕs a big difference, because when IÕm wearing a mask along with something flashy, I donÕt really care whatÕs going through the pervÕs mind in the last few seconds before I take him down. With Jane, well, things were creepy, because I wasnÕt used to it at school.
Usually, at school, IÕm pretty non-confrontational. Its sort of part of the whole secret identity thing, but I got a feeling, at least in JaneÕs case, that may sort of have to change. I was working on some kind of smart remark, something wittier than Òwhat are you looking at?Ó but by the time I figured it out, she was gone. The whole thing was just plain weird.
Friday, October 28, 2005
Supergirls make mistakes too
Supergirls make mistakes too
OMG, I canÕt believe I finally made it home. Tonight has been one of the most difficult ever, at least in the terms of being a superheroine. Lots of times being plain old Daphne is tough, but usually, well, lets face it, if IÕm not trying to hide what I can do, usually anyway, everything is just plain easy as É does ÒpieÓ sound to old fashioned. Scratch that thought: writing and trying not to sound like a ditz is pretty hard too, but I digress.
Tonight, after my family hit the sack, I got up, slipped into my costume du jour and went out to try and practice saving the world. I say practice, because, well, unlike in the comic books, all the real big stuff is sort of beyond my reach. I mean, IÕll be damned if I know how to stop a hurricane or cure global warming, and, well, I might be able to stop wars and stuff, but not without hurting a whole lot of people, and, for better or worse, thatÕs something I donÕt like doing. Which is sort of what happened tonight.
As I said, IÕm pretty much practicing the whole superheroine thing, picking up what I can from movies and from guys like Jeremy, who are like comic book encyclopedias. IÕm not exactly financially independent either, at least not yet, so my costumes usually consist of some relatively inexpensive clothing that I donÕt really give a hoot about and a mask. Tonight it was jogging shorts and a tank top, just to let you know what sort of stuff IÕm talking about. I may have the powers of those Kryptonian types, but I donÕt have the budget or the wardrobe. Maybe some dayÉ.
IÕm digressing again. Tonight was the night I was supposed to practice flying. IÕm pretty good at getting up and staying up as long as I keep moving, but things like turns and landings are still sort of rough, so I got to be real careful where I do it. So IÕd planned on jogging out of the subdivision and flying on over to the old racetrack where I could practice in peace and quiet. They closed it down years ago, so thereÕs like no lights, no people, lots of open space, and no one cares if I mess up the grounds with rough landings.
So, IÕm just about to take off when my superhearing picks up a scream. A split second later, I think anyone could have seen the womanÕs face in the back of the van, but, well trust me, I donÕt think just anyone could have did what I did next. I jumped on, sprinting until I caught up to the van and grabbed the little ladder on the back. Thinking back on it, I know I should have just like ripped the back door off and rescued the girl, but at the time it didnÕt seem like that clear of a thing. I mean, who knew, could be the driver was taking her to a hospital or something, and maybe IÕd misread the whole situation. So what I did was climb up on top and slip down into the passenger seat to have a little chat with the driver. Civilized and thoughtful, right?
Well, it should have been anyway, but my tank top got stuck on the top of the car as I tried to slip into the window, and by the time I finally got in, it was too late. What happened was pretty nasty, bad enough that even I felt the collision pretty hard. Bastard ran the van off the road and smack dab into a tree. He was dead as a doorknob, pretty much made into human hamburger. The woman in back, I got her out and left her at the nearest Emergency Room, but I donÕt know if sheÕs gonna live yet. She looked pretty bad, and in my experience, humans are real fragile.
I wanted, really wanted to hang around and find out, but talking to the cops is something IÕm really not big on, not after the time one told me he was gonna bring me down to the station for questioning and THEN, after weÕd been like talking for ages out on the street, decided he needed to frisk me for weapons in the backseat of the car. Talk about a jerk. Anyway, even if I didnÕt have school tomorrow, hanging around the hospital all night wasnÕt gonna work, so I guess IÕll just try and see if it makes the news tomorrow.
Its sleepy time now for me, now that IÕve exposed myself as the bumbling idiot that I feel like. I just hope, hope that I donÕt dream about those poor people.
Saturday, October 29, 2005
Super Basketball Girl
Super Basketball GirlToday was a good day, or at the very least it was loads better than last night. School wasÉ well it was school, not much to write about, but until about three oÕclock the whole thing was pretty uneventful. Go to class, get bored, try to pay attention, get distracted and wait for the bell. That little cycle happened through a half dozen classes and unless I was going to write about what the distractions were, thereÕs just not a whole lot to tell. TodayÕs distractions were relatively boring, even by my standards, so IÕm going to let them rest.Basketball tryouts were at 3:30, though, and they at least were somewhat more interesting than the run of the mill stuff, I think. I already told you about how I got suckered into trying out, and yeah, if you cut out the bs, the real reason is cause I have just a ferocious time resisting a cute guy, even and old guy when he asks me for something. ItÕs a serious character flaw, especially in a girl like me, and IÕm working on it, but I also know that you gotta recognize your issues to deal with em, right?So why did Coach Collins want me to try out? Well, even IÕm not dumb enough not to think that the guy liked the idea of watching me run around in shorts. It sounds conceited, but lets face it, even in sweats with my hair a mess and all, I still get guys staring at me eventually, and the more of me they can see, the weirder it gets.Its almost like another superpower really, although its not exactly one I find useful. Most of the time, and you may not believe this, but its just a royal pain in the neck. People want what they canÕt have, and I think thatÕs why guys want me, and its also I think sort of why I want them, but thatÕs like a whole nother topic which will make a post all by itself. Back to the whole basketball fiasco.The other reason Coach Collins must have wanted me was because IÕd made a fool out of myself in gym class the other day, and he must be convinced heÕs got like an assist machine in the making. HeÕs right of course, on account of, I can pretty much outplay anybody, but IÕd already decided how I was going to handle it. Playing the complete dork wasnÕt going to work. IÕd blown that already, soÕs I was going to have to figure some other way to make sure I didnÕt end up spending my life on the basketball court instead of out fighting crime, or even, let me just wish, having a social life.I decided it was best handled a different way. I shot the ball. I shot the ball everytime I got it, and I shot it way, way off. And when I did throw in a few passes, they were off target rockets or ridiculously high lobs that were never gonna work. I didnÕt want to hurt anyone. By the time the practice thing was over I felt sure Coach was gonna tell me, thanks but no thanks. I was dead wrong. I made the team.Second string point guard, sure, but the girl ahead of meÕs a senior, so I gotta feeling IÕm going to have to figure out something or IÕm gonna be facing the same problem next year. This year, at least, basketballÕs gonna just be one more pull on my time.Speaking of time, thereÕs one thing about this whole basketball thing I didnÕt mention. Coach picked two of us, both younger girls and told us he wanted both of us to come out for pickup games on Saturday mornings with some guys he plays with. Now if heÕd said that to me alone, I know for sure IÕd have gone running right then, but if thereÕs two of us, it sounds more legit, huh? I think IÕm actually kind of looking forward to the whole thing, in a very weird sort of way. As far as the girlÕs team goes, it does kind of give me something ÒnormalÓ to do, normal being sit on the bench, but still. And the pickup games, um, well, IÕm gonna make a little confession here.One of my secrets is, I sort of like having big sweaty men with their shirts off around me. ItÕs not exactly something IÕm proud of, but the fact is, I think I got at least the sex drive of any normal girl, maybe more, but its like really really frustrated. Its ironic and really a whole mess.
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Could someone explain to me how guys minds work?
Could someone explain to me how guys minds work?
I may be superhuman, but IÕm definitely not capable of understanding the way guys think. I thought I was, and to be quite honest, I thought I was better than most girls, on account of, not only do I have some good friends who are guys, but I also tend to be a little bit more capable of observing them than most girls. I mean, its not something I do often, but I have looked into the guyÕs locker room, and I also tend to hear things that other girls canÕt sometimes. None of that makes me understand how they work, though, and sometimes it can be really frustrating.
Ted is the perfect example. HeÕs not exactly what youÕd call a hunk, but the guy is seriously sweet, absolutely brilliant and not at all hung up on himself. I guess youÕd call him a geek, cause he does the whole glasses, pocket protector and chess club thing, but heÕs also seriously interesting to talk to. IÕve known Ted for like ages, and we even played together when we were kids and stuff, but the whole puberty thing kind of put this wall between us and IÕd just about given up on hanging out together when he started acting all funny around me a couple of years ago.
Then, this morning, he blew me away. I was just minding my own business in chemistry class when the teacher announced that we had to have partners for her latest experiment, and up out of the blue pops Ted, grinning and telling me he thinks weÕd make a great team. Me? Ok, granted I expected IÕd end up with a guy for a partner, given the girls in the class, none of whom IÕd consider exactly a friend, but I didnÕt expect Ted to be the dumbass with a hardon who was willing to risk his grades by choosing me as his partner. IÕm not only a klutz, but IÕm also not exactly what youÕd call a brain. I suck at science, and often have to have things explained to me like dozens of times. Ted knew that as well as I did, so right off the bat, I knew his line about us being a great team was absolute horse shit.
Of course, I may not be a brain surgeon, but IÕm not stupid. Ted was sporting a serious boner, so if it was anyone else, IÕd at least have been able to chalk up his sudden interest in me for hormones. Only thing is, this was Ted, and the idea of Ted trying to get in my pants was like way beyond what I could imagine. Ted didnÕt make moves on girls, not even the girls who threw themselves at him, which I got to tell you, there have been a few. The guyÕs not exactly Joe stud, but anyone with any sense knows heÕs gonna make a mint someday. I know for a fact that Cecilia joined the chess club just to impress him, and sheÕs not the only one, either. ThereÕs like a whole gaggle of girl-nerds whoÕd drop their shorts for him in a split second, if he asked.
IÕm sort of an outsider in school. Most of the popular girls wonÕt have anything to do with me, and while the guys in that group sort of sniff around, the socially savvy ones figure out that IÕm like poison as far as the popular girls go. The nerds are sort of a different story, although itÕs a bit more complicated. I try real hard to keep up with some of them, but its not like IÕm gonna ever make a debate team or be able to keep up with any of the science clubs or anything. As much as I hang out with anyone, I sort of hang out with them, though, on account of theyÕre a lot less likely to make fun of me being not so bright, and, because as long as I donÕt dress like an absolute tramp or pay too much attention to the guys when they act goofy, some of the geeky girls are more tolerant. It gets weird sometimes, but IÕve got some girlfriends among them, sort of anyway, and a couple of them even know things about me that no one else does.
Cecilia isnÕt exactly in my inner circle, but sheÕs friends with some of them, and TedÕs sudden move made sort of freaked me out. In general, I turn guys who are friends or even friends of friends down flat, cause I donÕt need the trouble. IÕve gone out with a few of the older guys, but if thereÕs like ANY connection with my friends, protecting my secret identity, and preserving my sanity and my friends makes me run like hell. But Ted, for all his skinniness, his awkwardness, IÕd always thought Ted was seriously cute and heÕs just the kind of guy who NEVER seems to ask me out.
So I was like seriously nervous when we started going through the details of the project, on account of I really was sort of hoping he might, and yet at the same time, I was dreading how it all might come down. Of course, that only made it harder to follow the instructions, and when the fire started, I was like completely oblivious.
When Jessica screamed, instead of looking at the notebook in front of me catching on fire, I turned to see what in the blazes she was looking at, which gave the fire time to catch to my blouse. Ted, god bless him, was like a knight in shining armor, although a seriously dorky one with all the wrong sort of weapons. He grabbed my upper arm and at the same time started batting at the flames with his other hand.
As hairy as that was, things got even freakier when I got sent down to the nurse on account of the teacher was sure I must have serious burns or something, because my wrist was all black. I avoid the school nurse like the plague, much like I avoid doctors of any sort, so it wasnÕt like she knew me from Adam. And the woman was like seriously freaked out when I showed her I wasnÕt hurt. After what seemed like an eternity, I finally convinced her to just send a note home to my parents, but by the time I got out of the nurseÕs office, it was lunch time.
The minute I walked into the cafeteria, I got the glares from a whole table full of girls, including Cecilia. I did my best not to antagonize them, got through the line and headed over to the far side of the room just as Nicki Noriega came over to me.
ÒI canÕt believe you did thatÉÓ Nicki said, grabbing me by the arm and all but shoving me into a seat. ÒCeciliaÕs going to make your life hell, girl.Ó
ÒDid what?Ó I asked in confusion.
ÒDonÕt play stupid with me, Daphne. Ronnie told me the whole story, about how you caught your blouse on fire just to get Ted, and she told Cecilia, too.Ó
I blinked, not quite certain what was going on, not to mention why Nicki Noriega, who dressed like a biker chick and hung out with the druggies was suddenly throwing herself into this mess.
ÒI didnÕt, I didnÕt catch myself on fire on purposeÉÓ I blurted out, but Nicki cut me off.
ÓIt doesnÕt matter, Daphne, because not only does Cecilia think you did, but coincidentally, Ted just told Cecilia he didnÕt want to be her debate partner anymore. Dropped her like a hot potato.Ó
ÒIÉ..Ó I stammered, but Nicki stood up then and cut me off.
ÒListen, Daph. You and I, I know weÕre not exactly buds, but Cecilia Smith is one class A bitch, and I know how she can spread rumors.Ó
ÒWhat sort ofÉ.?Ó I began, but Nicki was gone by then, back to her circle of friends.
Lo and behold, just then, with Cecilia and her gang still shooting mean looks at me, Ted came up and sat down right next to me.
ÒAre you ok, Daph?Ó he said reaching for my arm.
Instinctively, I started to draw it back, but once he got a grip, I relaxed and let him see it was all ok.
ÒYeah, um, IÕm fine, Ted. Just, um a klutz is all. See, the black stuff washed off.Ó
Ted smiled and my heart started pumping.
ÒGood, Daph. I was worried about you. Uh, listen, I was kind of thinking, maybe we ought to work on the experiment stuff after school.Ó
I shook my head, but before I could blurt out about basketball practice, Ted was moving on.
ÒOr better yet, how about Friday night. My big brotherÕs having a party out by the pool, lots of his college friends and all, and we could relax some and then IÕll explain the rest of the project to you then.Ó
My eyes widened, and I barely managed to get the words out.
ÒA pool party?Ó I said, suddenly realizing what that meant. ÒI donÕt I mean.. I donÕt..Ó
ÒDonÕt what, Daphne?Ó Ted said grinning, although it was a very strange sort of grin and his voice sort of quivered. ÒDonÕt want to work on the project or donÕt want to be with me?Ó
He had me there, got me right where it hurted with that combination of suaveness and vulnerability as he expected me to reject him. I bit into the meal heÕd offered me with my mouth wide open.
ÒNo, Ted, thatÕs not it, really, its just, um, its Cecilia. WhyÉ.Ó
ÒCecilia?Ó Ted exclaimed, but before I could explain, he had it all figured out. I told you he was smart didnÕt I?
ÒCecilia is a bitchÓ Ted said as he leaned over, Òand if youÕre smart, you wonÕt worry about her. I couldnÕt deal with her anymore as a debate partner, not because sheÕs not good, but because sheÕs, well, sheÕs just plain mean. IÕm talking about you, me, a party full of college kids, and ÉÓ
He leaned over even closer and I got lost in those eyes of his, even through his glasses.
ÒListen Daph. WeÕre not tight like we used to be, and I regret that, but IÕm asking for you to do me a favor. I need a date to the party, Daphne, and IÕd rather it be you than anyone else.Ó
ÒWhy?Ó I stammered.
ÒBecause, I like you Daphne. Is that good enough?Ó
ÒUmÉÓ I began, Òno, not um ifÉ.Ó
ÒChill, DaphÓ he said grinning. ÒOk, I do want to have a hot chick on my arm just to get my brother off my back, but youÕre not.. I mean, I can talk to you. We can have fun with it at the same time. If you donÕt, if you donÕt want it toÉ.Ó
Finally I got up the nerve to speak up, really speak up, before he said what I knew he was going to say.
ÒIÕll go, TedÓ I said smiling, Òif you promise to stop giving me that look..Ó
ÒWhat look?Ó he said.
ÒThe little hurt puppy lookÉ. It makes me feel like a real bitch, like I É.Ó
ÒThen IÕll smile, DaphÓ he said grinning. ÒWeÕll have fun, and if the partyÕs lame we can skip out or whatever. As long as I make an appearance, I donÕt care, and I really do want to spend time with you.Ó
By the time the bell rang, I was on cloud nine. Could it really be happening? Did Ted really ask me out, not just because he thought he could get lucky with me, but because he actually liked me? I hoped so, I know I really wanted that, and Ted was, well, IÕll be quite honest with you, I didnÕt at all mind the idea of making out with Ted. If I thought, well, if it was possible to go all the way with a guy, while he might not be the most physically imposing sort of guy, IÕd put Ted up at the top of the list.
The rest of the day went by, but I was pretty much on cloud nine.
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
Self Pity is really depressing
Just thinking about Ted must be getting to me. Last night after I finished writing, I had some pretty vivid dreams and let me tell you, they werenÕt anything thatÕs possible in reality. IÕve heard that its, at least on some level, a biological thing for women to fantasize about getting overpowered and taken by a guy, but I doubt I react to rape fantasies like most other girls. When I woke up this morning and remembered, I broke out crying almost immediately as I realized just how screwed up my sex life, both real and imaginary was.
And I guess waking up that way kind of messed me up all day. To start with, for some unimaginable reason, instead of the baggy clothes I normally wear to school, I slipped on a pair of tight jeans and a t-shirt, not bothering with either a bra or a jacket and ducked out before my parents could see me and remind me. I havenÕt dressed like that for school in years and now that the day is over and IÕve got some perspective, I guess I realize why. IÕm going to pay a price for it; I just donÕt know how high its going to be.
As I walked into the school parking lot, the first guy I ran across dropped his jaw and by the time I got into the building, there were probably a dozen similarly lust stricken adolescent guys lining the route IÕd taken. At the time, I just didnÕt give a shit. I made my way to my locker, remembering just in time to be gentle with the lock and started putting away my books. I felt his breath on the top of my head a split second before I felt his hand on my shoulder, and by the time he tugged on my shoulder to turn me around, I somehow had enough sense to let him.
Billy Jensen was sort of a legend on campus for any number of reasons. One reason was his body, something I couldnÕt possibly miss since his bulging pecs were basically at my eye level. Unlike most of the girls, I knew something else about BillyÕs body. His muscles werenÕt the only thing enormous about him, and I expect that rather freakish part of his anatomy had a lot to do with his other problems. Billy was basically a freak, a monster of a guy who seemed to lack the sort of self critic at times. He scared the living daylights out of girls, although to be fair, I donÕt think he really intended to most of the time.
I donÕt have one, but IÕve seen enough of them to have a theory that guyÕs dicks are probably the biggest influence on their daily routine, way beyond their brains. And Billy had a whopper, the biggest IÕd ever seen, including that thing Marky Mark wore in that movie. Again, IÕm no expert in biology, but it seems to reason that when the blood rushes to something that big, the brainÕs got to suffer. And whether it was a result of repeated trauma, or just an added handicap, Billy was not the swiftest guy to begin with, and remember whoÕs telling you this.
ÒHeya, dollÓ Billy said as I looked up, way up to find his goofy and yet still menacing face.
If I hadnÕt known Billy since we were both kids, I donÕt want to think about what I might have done. I was pissed, horny, but still pissed, and playing with a so called big strong man might have been too much of a temptation just then. But it was Billy, and seeing as I knew him, it was a lot easier to see the vulnerability there, and IÕm a sucker for vulnerability. He was putting on a show and he was desperately trying to come onto me, but underneath it all, I could see just how pitiful he was.
I didnÕt hurt him, at least not the way I could have. I just reached up with a seemingly tiny hand and spun him around, pinning his big body against the locker with my hand before I stepped in and pressed my boobs against him, just hard enough to knock the breath out of him and pin him, leaving my hands free to roam those big muscles of his.
ÒYou shouldnÕt do that BillyÓ I said smiling up at him even as I squeezed his butt and then pressed his swollen crotch against my leg. His diaphragm was pretty much being crushed by my boobs, and the only sound that really came out of him was a sort of whimpering sound, but the throbbing thing against my thigh told me he was still enjoying himself. I donÕt know that I would have done next, but itÕs a fair bet IÕd have regretted it even worse than what had already happened. Thankfully, it was at that moment that CassieÕs voice broke me out of the daze I was in.
ÒDaphne!!Ó she shouted as she ran down the hall towards me.
My head twisted, and a split second later, I backed up, letting Billy slip to the floor.
Cassie, was still running towards me when the tears started flowing from my face, but I was gone long before she made it across the hallway.
I skipped the rest of school today, and spent a great deal of it on top of a water tower, alternating between crying and staring at my cell phone as the messages started to rack up. I couldnÕt answer it, didnÕt want to talk to anyone.
All day long, I pretty much meditated over my predicament and wallowed in self pity. IÕm a freak. A superficially desirable one, maybe, but when you get down to it, an incredibly dangerous and unstable freak whose pretty much doomed to a miserable and lonely life. All my life, even before hormones gave me urges which simply canÕt be satisfied, IÕve hurt people, and more often than not, its been the people I love most. My dadÕs back still goes out at times, and even my momÕs got ribs that ache when the weather gets cold. Billy was lucky. I probably scared him a bit, but I donÕt think I really hurt him. Other guys, granted mostly bad guys, but human beings nonetheless, they werenÕt so lucky.
I can count the number of real dates IÕve had in my life on one hand. However, IÕve long since lost track of the number of sad and pathetic quasi sexual encounters IÕve had with criminal types out on the street. Its sick and it makes me feel bad afterwards, but fact of the matter is, IÕm pretty damned horny, and I need someone to practice with. And since IÕm not going to risk hurting good people, why not practice with the criminals. Thing is, while I keep trying, each and every encounter is incredibly frustrating, both physically and emotionally. IÕve sworn off playing with the bad guys a half dozen times, but the thing is, I gotta have some outlet, and messing with an attempted rapist in a dark park is way more healthy than what happened with Billy for example.
I donÕt care what you hear about women and sex and relationships, I think I really need both, and I donÕt think either one is ever really gonna work out for me. Sex É, well, in a conventional sense, its just never gonna happen. Without getting really gross, I just donÕt think its physically possible for soft male flesh to do what it takes. And even without intercourse, a guyÕs pretty much risking his life making me squirm. Sexual frustration is a real issue for me, and its connected to, but at the same time, wholly distinct from the whole loneliness and relationship thing.
I mean face it, what kind of a relationship can I have with a guy? I have tried to figure out how it might work. Bottom line is, though, when sex enters into the equation at all, the whole thing gets all messed up. Last summer was a perfect example. The guy was into me and I was into him, and while I didnÕt tell him everything, he was willing, hell he was ecstatic about just making out and he didnÕt even complain about the bruises and stuff. But the more we messed around, the worse the relationship angle got. I wanted it too, but the more we did, the closer we got physically, the farther apart we got emotionally. Joey started to get obsessed with me, and yet, at the same time, he got more and more pitiful, like a puppy whoÕs willing to do just about anything to get petted. ThatÕs cool at first, but after awhile, I could tell I was screwing up his life, and I really didnÕt like what it was doing to me either. I broke it off with Joey, and I stopped answering his calls, but it still bothers me. Did I screw him up permanently?
Guilt is really a pretty nasty thing for me, because, well, I have a whole lot of things to feel guilty about for a girl my age. The physical stuff, thatÕs bad enough, but emotionally, I know IÕve hurt an awful lot of people as well, and the only way I can avoid doing that entirely is not to relate to people at all, which IÕm not willing to do, at least not yet. Its not just sex, only thatÕs the biggest part of it at the moment. Even my closest friends, even my girlfriends I keep sort of at a distance, and I know somewhere, they resent me as much as I resent them.
All in all, I spent most of the day contemplating my own navel, which is pretty freaky, but when IÕd done soul searching, wallowing in my own misery, I still pretty much ended up with no real answers, except to keep trying. I mean, what other choice do I have? Near as I can tell, suicide, even if I could bring myself to do it, its just not an option.
The only real option I do have is to keep trying what IÕve been trying, building walls around this part of my life and that one, and trying to make each little enclosure the best it can be. The whole crime fighting thing, sometimes I think its really dumb, but I hope, I want to believe that somehow, eventually I can find some sort of satisfaction there that will help me deal with the rest of my life, which pretty much sucks. And the personal stuff, well, I keep hoping that will get better too, and it might. I have good days and bad days. Today was, well, today pretty much sucked, but tomorrow might be better.
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Ted picked me up for the party tonight and things went a whole lot better than I expected. From the moment we got into the car, Ted was talking to me like, well, sort of like partner or something, on a secret mission. Want to guess what the mission was? It was pretty much a question of teaching his brotherÕs obnoxious friends a lesson, and while it was pretty weird to be used like as a weapon or something, it was pretty cool the way he described it all to me and included me in on it.
See, TedÕs brother is like a major jock. HeÕs not really dumb, but you wouldnÕt know it, and heÕs always on TedÕs case about being a nerd whoÕs never going to get a hot chick. Well, enter Daphne, hot chick to end all hot chicks, the girl to once and forever get Fred off TedÕs back. Ok, so it was pretty corny, but it was fun, and working it all out with Ted as an accomplice was even more fun. Or at least talking about it was.
Doing it got a bit hairy at times, but IÕll give Ted credit, he handled it pretty well for a guy. Basically, my job was easy. Flash the flesh and hang on Ted, making sure to let every one there know that I was interested in him. Like that was going to be hard to do! I think I played my role pretty good, too, because on the few times I left his side, some of those college girls started sniffing at him as if they were wondering what I could possibly see in him.
Yeah, in case youÕre wondering, I got hit on too, but you know what? I wouldnÕt have expected not to dressed in a bikini, and it was kind of cool to at least have it being done by college guys and not high school kids or criminal types. The only thing that really freaked me out was this one girl who came on stronger than most of the guys, but heyÉ I was just playing a role, right? If I do ever mess with a girl, I can tell you, its going to have to be someone a little less clingy than she was, though. IÕm not all that sure about girls. In some ways, well, they really donÕt push my buttons like guys do, but when you really get down to it, IÕm not sure itÕs the guys that push my buttons as much as the way I think about them. I mean, letÕs face it, I can see where, from a physical perspective, with me, IÕm not sure thereÕs a whole lot of physical difference. Mentally, emotionally, maybe so, but, well, I can see where É um.. IÕm digressing. Back to the party.
The one sort of disappointing thing about the whole party was that Ted tried to go drink for drink with me for awhile. Not a great idea, and by the time I realized he was doing it and stopped drinking, it was sort of too late for him. I can get tipsy, and there were probably lots of times when my speech was slurry and all, but my body burns the stuff off really fast, and poor Ted, he didnÕt have that little advantage. By about ten thirty, I was all but propping him up, which in a way was sort of fun, but also got old and put a downer on what otherwise would have been a pretty incredible night.
So, when the party kind of shrank and that girl suggested we hit the hot tub, I didnÕt protest, and IÕm pretty sure Ted was by that time quite incapable of protesting. It was a bit lukewarm for my taste, but the bubbles were kind of cool, and it was a pretty neat way to let Ted feel me up without being totally disgusting.
Granted, the conversation was a bit freaky, but it didnÕt seem to bother Ted all that much, and before long, I was just relaxing and letting Ted enjoy himself pressing up against me while everyone else talked and drank. IÕm pretty sure that some of the other guys, and maybe even that girl might have owned some of the things that bumped up against me too, but it was all good, I think.
When Fred and his date got up to leave (and there was like no doubt they were not going to sleep), I sort of half carried Ted up to bed, pretending to have a much harder time than I really did with it. I guess its not the way most girls think about a hot sexy date, but then again, IÕm not most girls, and IÕve made guys pass out by kissing them anyway, so why should I get hung up if they canÕt hold their booze?
Thing is, in TedÕs bedroom, I did a little exploring. At first, it seemed pretty, well, I donÕt know, guyish. I mean, lots of debate trophies, a few pinups, and not much in the way of style. Then I noticed his bookshelf. The guy was a serious reader, even if heÕd only read half of what was there. I got excited, thinking maybe I could figure out more about him from what he read, and so I started checking it all out.
Know what I found? Well, Ted had this whole little section of stuff about WonderWoman, Supergirl and whole bunches of superchicks IÕd never even heard of. Plus, he had books, honest to goodness books, not just comic books, but, it was almost like a collection of books where the covers all had women on them, and from the blurbs, I could sort of figure out a common theme. The guy had a thing for strong women, like women with superpowers and stuff. Do I have to tell you I was intrigued?
Ted was still snoring, so I took the liberty of giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before creeping out of his room and heading back home. I walked, rather than flew, mostly because I wanted to like have a chance to try and digest the whole night, and especially what IÕd learned from TedÕs bookshelf.
It seemed pretty clear Ted was into Supergirl types, but I wasnÕt quite sure what to make of it. On the one hand, it might just be some sort of thing he got off on, and yet, on the other hand, it was entirely possible he might also be able to be a real help to me, if, for example, I wanted to let him know about me. IÕm not really sure which possibility got me more excited, nor could I exactly figure out how they might work together, but, well, lets just say, just looking at those books on his shelf, somehow it made me feel a whole lot better about myself.
Honestly, it wasnÕt until I was typing this stuff up that I realized, maybe TedÕs fantasies, whatever they might be about superpowered women might not be a good thing. What happens if the fantasies donÕt live up to the reality? I mean, how would I measure up against all those girls with the impossibly long legs and hair that never gets messed up?
Fantasies are one thing, and reality is a whole different kind of thing. I mean, in the comic books, not only do girls not have periods and stuff, but they also donÕt get bitchy, they donÕt flirt with other guys, and I seriously doubt that Wonderwoman ever stayed up late at night typing onto a blog about her insecurities. In lots of ways, I may be up to snuff, but IÕm pretty sure, even if I donÕt need airbrushing, that IÕve got enough emotional and mental flaws to throw a monkey wrench into things.
IÕm going to go to sleep now, I think. Tonight has given me a whole lot to think about.
Saturday, November 05, 2005
Saturday Morning with Cass
Ted didnÕt call today. IÕm pretty upset about that, even though I guess he might have a hangover or be busy or whatever. But I still wish heÕd call me.
This morning, I told Cassie about a lot of things, including Ted, well, most of Ted, and all about this blog. I think sheÕs a bit surprised by Ted, but sheÕs like not going to say too too much until we see how it goes. The blog, on the other hand, she thinks that this is like a real monumentally stupid idea.
I respect CassieÕs opinion. SheÕs really really smart, but I donÕt agree with her on this one and I think IÕm going to keep writing. CassieÕs always convinced thereÕs a conspiracy in everything, and she painted this picture for me of like hundreds of guys drooling over every word I wrote and waiting for the day to expose me as a fraud when I eventually go public as a superheroine. No offense to Cassie, but I think sheÕs off on this one.
For one thing, I donÕt really think this blog is all that sexy. I think about sex a lot, granted, what girl doesnÕt? And if every teenage girlÕs diary was all that exciting, wouldnÕt they all be besieged by horndogs? Seriously, if a guyÕs gonna get aroused by what I write, IÕm almost flattered. Way more flattered than if he gets a woody from looking at my body, anyway. The bodÕs not something IÕm responsible for, it just is. This blog, this is like something I work hard at and if a guy likes it, maybe its like he likes the real me, not just the package IÕm in. Ya know, it might even be cool to meet guys like that, knowing that its not just the way I look that makes him like me.
And for another thing, I honestly donÕt think anyone reads my little diary here. I mean, IÕve posted like seven things, and the only comment I got was some spam thing about financial investments that IÕm sure was put there by some computer. Its not like IÕm letting the whole world know about me, and besides, I didnÕt even put down what state I live in.
Now, granted the whole idea of leaving an electronic record of my thoughts as a teenager which could be used against me later is a little disturbing. But who am I kidding? I may save the world or something someday, but thereÕs no way IÕm ever going to get elected to public office or anything. Frankly, the only way I think IÕd really get into trouble with this blog is if one of my friends, or heaven forbid, a guy like Ted was to get ahold of it and take offense to what IÕd said. Not likely, given that no one else is reading it.
CassieÕs one of the very few human beings who knows all about me, and I canÕt tell you how much I value her opinions, but on this issue, I think sheÕs wrong.
Now, what Cassie is probably right about, on the other hand, is that I have like absolutely no business playing on the basketball game. The risk of me screwing up is just way too big, and she also made a real point about it not being fair. IÕm still chewing on it, but I think IÕm going to find a way to get off the team. I donÕt want to just quit, but IÕm also not what sure what it would take for the coach to throw me off, either. IÕm gonna think about this some more, though, later on, after I go play in his pickup game thing. That ought to be a hoot, anyway. Sweaty guys pushing and shoving and pressing up against me. What more could a girl want? A little phone call from a not so sweaty guy, maybe, would be nice.
Saturday, November 05, 2005
Even Supergirls get the blues
Cassie was right about the basketball thing, which doesnÕt surprise me at all. To be honest, IÕm not all that sure I wouldnÕt have wiped the court with those guys even without superpowers, but when you consider that watching the other players was sort of like watching a movie in slow motion, it ended up being downright boring at times and tedious like you just wouldnÕt believe.
Mind you, I donÕt actually think IÕm a great basketball player or anything, but the guys really didnÕt seem like they were interested in guarding me as much as trying to cop a feel most of the time, and they sure didnÕt seem to be trying very hard to try to keep up with me. I know, it probably is just the fact that IÕm so much stronger and faster, but I really donÕt think thatÕs all of it. I did my best to keep it honest, really I did, including letting some of the cuter guys knock me to the floor and block shots and stuff, but it wasnÕt like I was going to let my team lose.
When we got done, I was almost as covered in sweat as everyone else, just not my own. And I saw Coach Collins sitting on the bench trying to catch his breath, I sort of jumped on the opportunity to tell him I was quitting the team. I donÕt think, between staring at my chest and panting from exertion, that he even heard what I was saying.
ÒMy face is up here, CoachÓ I said grinning to try to take the sting out of it. After all, the guy was sitting down and its not like IÕm not used to that sort of thing.
ÒIÕm sorry, DaphneÓ Coach said looking up. ÒYou, uh you want to quit the team? Why, Daphne? Is it me? Is it something I did? I promise you, I wasnÕt staringÉÓ
ÒRightÓ I interjected, trying not to laugh at him. ÒLook, I stuck my boobs in your face, ok? ThatÕs not it, Coach, and you donÕt need to sweat like a sexual harassment thing, ok?Ó
He looked pretty stunned, but there might have been some relief there as well.
ÒBut why Daphne?Ó he said, giving me that pitiful look that so many guys give me, the one that I have like a hellacious time resisting. But this time, I was determined not to give in to the temptation, in spite of the way that helpless pitiful guy thing always made me feel. I might not be as smooth as, say Lauren, but could fight fire with fire, and turning the tables shouldnÕt have been all that hard to do.
ÒCoach, um, listen, IÕd really rather not go into it, like, well, I mean, you can probably tell that I can play and all, but its really not that much fun for me to play with girls, andÉ IÕm going to go out on a limb here, Coach. I know it sounds pretty dumb, but I just really donÕt want to play on the team. IÉ IÕd rather not get into it, can I just like tell you itÕs a personal, um a female thing?Ó
Yeah, that confused the daylights out of him, but just to make sure I had him really where I wanted him, I took a deep, slow breath and gave a sort of a pout. Seriously, it looked like his eyes were going to pop out of their sockets for a moment as they watched my chest rise and fall. My nipples had been doing their thing since I saw the look in his face, so between my basic shape and the thin wet cotton of my t-shirt, I was pretty sure I was giving him a nice show.
ÒIÕd still like to play on Saturdays, though, CoachÉÓ I said and made sure I made eye contact with him when he finally looked back up at my face and pulled my shirt up a bit, exposing my abs. IÕve got a tiny waist and a pretty svelte soft looking tummy if I donÕt tighten it up. ÒIts, um, more fun, playing with you, you know. YouÕre so big and strong, and the way you move on the court, it makes me feel good, like, um, like IÕm really learning, I mean.Ó
Would you believe he bought that? If ever there was an example of how absolutely hopeless a man gets when faced with a pretty girl, I think that was it. It wasnÕt my first choice of a way to handle the whole thing, but it sure was the easiest. In a way, I think it felt like more of a power rush than I get from superstrength to sidetrack him like that, and I know it felt way smoother. Honestly, I felt standing over him that I pretty much could have talked him into anything.
I didnÕt really come down from the high until I checked my cell phone and saw there was still no call from Ted. WhatÕs with the guy? Did he think heÕd be too eager if he called me back the next day? Or maybe I was too much for him, or he just got bored with my conversation. That, as much as I donÕt like to admit it, was a really good possibility. IÕm not exactly the smartest girl, and since I really did try not to tease Ted except when it was part of the game, maybe thatÕs what was wrong.
It was only three oÕclock in the afternoon and since I didnÕt really have anything else to do, I decided to go for a fly. I usually donÕt do that much during the day, between school and not wanting to get spotted, but I really needed the fresh air, so why the hell not. I slipped into the empty girls locker room, pulled out my mask and pulled of my big sweaty t-shirt before taking off.
In case there are any horny guys out there reading this, I guess you ought to get a blurb or two about how I feel about clothes. I like them just fine, and they definitely serve a purpose as far as keeping peopleÕs eyes from popping out, but its not like I really need them, and when I fly or even run fast, I tend to be pretty hard on them. So, this afternoon, I basically just kept my shorts and sports bra on. Although it was tempting to take that off too, I didnÕt. My boobs donÕt hurt when they bounce like some girls, but it isnÕt exactly comfortable either, and if I accelerate fast enough, they sort of do get a little achy at times. Plus, this way, if I did get spotted, at least I was a little less likely to cause a car wreck or something.
What I really need is some sort of great costume or something, but like I mentioned, IÕm kind of hard on clothes, and stuff like that, superheroine outfits, at least the ones that can handle me, donÕt come cheap. My bras, for example, get worn out in like half the time of my moms. Some of its neglect on my part, I guess, but I think thereÕs something about the way IÕm put together that does it too. They get real worn around the nipples, usually, even if they donÕt pop before that. Someday, IÕm going to really figure the whole costume out, but for now, I pretty much strip down a lot and put on a mask.
I flew over the wildlife preserve for awhile, then headed up to a safe altitude and practiced in air turns and stuff until I was sick of it, all the while thinking aboutÉ you guessed it, Ted. Finally, I just couldnÕt take it any longer and I headed over towards his house. I spotted his house from about 2,000 feet up and bit my lip before risking landing on his roof. Not only was I afraid of getting spotted, but landings are still not my forte, so when I landed with only a tiny thump and one broken shingle, I felt pretty relieved. From then, it was just a matter of really focusing my Xray vision and trying to hear what was going on down there. My hearing is pretty good, but its not like I can tune out the background noise that well, so I was pretty much just watching.
It only took me a couple of seconds to find him his bedroom. But what he was doing almost made me fall off the roof. Ted, my Ted, the guy IÕd been contemplating baring all to, had his arms around some girl. Me, the girl with an invulnerable tummy whoÕd never had a stomach ache in her life, I was suddenly confronted with an agonizing pain that made me bend over and lose my focus on him. I slid down the roof, catching myself just before I hit the gutters and launched myself into the air.
I probably did really mess up the roof then, and might even have knocked out some windows or something with a sonic boom, but just then I really didnÕt care. My heart was broken and moreover, I was mad, way too mad to hang around for even a minute longer for fear IÕd do something IÕd really regret.
I flew around for another hour or so, fast and furious, before heading back to the gym, picking up my clothes and going home. I didnÕt even speak to my Mom when I came in and headed right up to the computer to type this. IÕd intended to write some really really nasty shit about Ted, but now that IÕve gotten this far, I just donÕt have the energy. I think IÕm gonna stay in my room tonight and not even answer the phone. Maybe today was just a bad dream, or maybe, maybe I will answer it if it shows up as Ted on my caller ID, just to give him a piece of my mind.
Um.. bye now.
Sunday, November 06, 2005
Saturday Night Fishing Trip
My quiet little Saturday night was not, as IÕd hoped, interrupted by a phone call from Ted. Instead it was my bud Lauren, and, as usual, she talked some sense into me pretty quickly and got me out of my funk. LaurenÕs been my friend for ages, knows about my whole supershtick, and more to the point, is also always real good about figuring out ways to put my powers, along with anything else either of us have got, to good use, sometimes in some really incredible ways. SheÕs got an awesome fashion sense and sheÕs smart, but not at all flashy about it. And appearance aside, Ôcause I have these superpornstar genes that kicked in early and donÕt seem to have quit, sheÕs also like way more mature and savy when it comes to guys.
After listening to me whine for awhile, commiserating with what jerks guys can be, and completely validating my feelings of despair and helplessness, she lifted me up and slapped me around, knocking some sense into me really quickly.
ÒDaphÓ she said, ÒI donÕt mean to rain on your parade, and if you really want to sulk, thatÕs ok, but your missing a couple of things. One, you donÕt know the whole story, and two, whatever the whole story is, you of all people shouldnÕt be acting like some helpless little wallflower whoÕs afraid to go out and get what she wants, whether thatÕs teaching Ted a lesson or getting him back. YouÕve got the looks, not to mention a few other things that pretty much put you in charge whenever you want to be.Ó
ÒUh.. yeahÉÓ I said .. Òbut É.Ó
ÒDonÕt say it, Daphne. YouÕre self reinforcing, and this isnÕt really anything you need my help for. Confront the guy, Daph. You donÕt have to say how you saw the girl, just say you did and demand to know where things stand. If you donÕt like his answer, for whatever reason, its not like heÕs not going to have to take it.Ó
ÒLaurenÉÓ I said slowly, Òmaybe youÕre right. Only, well, I donÕt think I want to do it tonight, ok?Ó
I couldnÕt actually see LaurenÕs grin, but I heard it right through the phone.
ÒMore than ok, you blonde ditz. You and I are going to pain the town a bit tonight. Well, maybe not really, but IÕm getting picked up by this guy in about an hour and I promised him a date for his friend.Ó
ÒLauren!Ó I exclaimed in exasperation, but she knew IÕd do it, and so did I.
ÒYouÕre spending the night at my house and IÕm at yours. WeÕre talking seniors here, Daph, and IÕm not going to argue the inevitable. You know you canÕt tell me no on this one. IÕm sneaking out at ten, and IÕm meeting Jed across from the firestation. DonÕt dress like a schlub, Daph.Ó
ÒClassyÓ I retorted with a giggle, even as I got up and started planning my outfit.
At five after ten, I met Lauren, and despite the fact I was wearing jeans, it was pretty clear she didnÕt think I was dressed like a schlub. Lauren had in fact inspired me to turn over a new leaf and try something sheÕd been trying to get me to try, although up until now, it had languished in a drawer. It was basically just a little bitty tube top, but the look on LaurenÕs face told me that, on me, at least, it was going to be devastating.
IÕve mentioned that IÕm sort of big up top. In fact, IÕm big enough that itÕd probably be pretty obscene for me to wear the thing to begin with. But on top of my size, my boobs, like the rest of me are sort of denser than other peopleÕs, and both gravity and the relatively weak fibers of the little top really only have a minimal effect. Consequently, while boobs my size should have been squished by the thing, what happened when I put it on was really more like the thing was painted on. I didnÕt give, the fabric did, and the result was, at least from the way Lauren reacted, pretty amazing.
Lauren had seen me in all sorts of clothes, and even seen me without any, soÕs honestly, its not like I think she was suddenly amazed by what I looked like, not really. Really, I think it was more like astonishment that IÕd wear something like that out. IÕd expected some sort of reaction, but when Lauren didnÕt say anything for like an eternity, I slipped on the jacket IÕd brought, leaving it open, but at least covering my shoulders.
When the guys got there, I was glad IÕd put on the jacket. For one thing, LaurenÕs not exactly a schlub herself, and, at least in my opinion, is a whole lot prettier than I am. IÕm more dramatic, but LaurenÕs got soft curves, not in your face, gravity defying ones like I do, and IÕm pretty sure it would have really messed things up if IÕd made her date stare at my superhuman torso all evening. Even with the jacket, both guys did their share of staring, but they stared at Lauren too, and since she had the personality to go with the looks, pretty soon, I felt a lot better about the whole thing.
The guys? You want to know about the guys? Well, letÕs just say, honestly, they looked good enough, but between LaurenÕs looks and personality and my looks alone, they pretty much were overwhelmed and outclassed. Lauren, and to some extent myself, we sort of ran the show, and the guys did what we told them, which basically meant while they supplied the transportation and actually got us into the party, after that, it was more like they just got their kicks off of having gotten such hot dates.
Lauren and I basically held court for a gaggle of guys, with Lauren doing most of the talking. I chimed in every once inawhile, but for all that I was feeling pretty good, I was still distracted and mostly I just watched how Lauren handled things. SheÕs an artist, really, the way she can bounce from guy to guy, all of whom were desperate to make an impression, and I really liked just watching her work. But these guys were smooth, and eventually one of them managed to make enough of an impression that she started ignoring everyone else.
That left me holding the attention of the rest of them, and unlike Lauren, I didnÕt find playing queen bee all that easy or satisfying. I could have picked any of them, and let me tell you some of them were pretty hot, but I sort of felt sorry for my date, so heÕs the guy I asked to take me out for some air. I knew from the way he was looking at me what he wanted, but I donÕt think he really expected me to be half as easy as I was about giving it to him. Honestly, now that I think about it, it was probably pretty mean of me to do it to him, but its not like he didnÕt want it or wasnÕt going to enjoy it. I was feeling sort of like a rebel, anyway, so as soon as we got a little privacy, I reached for his hand and let him make his move, just using my eyes to let him know I wanted it.
He wasnÕt half bad, really. The way he put his arms around me was pretty smooth, and he kissed pretty good too. The guy was a lot more confident than IÕd expected, and his big body felt good against mine. Course, after a couple of seconds, things got a bit beyond him, but by that point, IÕd pretty much taken over. Any doubts about my taking the lead were over when I kissed him and started rubbing up against him. When his knees gave out, I grabbed his butt and kept him there, exploring his mouth with my tongue and his back and behind with my hands. After awhile, though, when I realized seemed to be struggling, I stopped the kiss to let him catch his breath. It was only then that I reached down and touched his thing, which seemed like it was ready to burst out of his jeans. I guess that was a bad idea, because his eyes closed and he came right then and there in his jeans. I sighed, tousled his hair and gave him a real quick kiss on the lips, grinning as I told him to go clean up and IÕd meet him in a couple of minutes so he could take me home.
By the time, I found Lauren and her date of the moment, my guy was looking a whole lot better, although he was sort of droopy. I did kiss him goodnight, but it was just sort of a cursory sort of thing. Frankly, I think weÕd both gotten what we wanted out of the night, and neither of us expected to do it again, not that I think he didnÕt want it.
Overall, it was a pretty good night. I scratched an itch and more importantly, got reminded that IÕm pretty capable of taking care of myself socially, even though IÕm not nearly as good as I am at doing it in other ways. I was still thinking about Ted, and yeah, I was still worried about him, but lets face it, my heart might be broken if he was sleeping with this chick, but it wasnÕt going to kill me, and I still had the fishing tackle to land just about any of a million fish out there. Ted was a fish IÕd like to hang on the wall, I think, but its not like I couldnÕt fill up an ice chest whenever I wanted. Granted, they werenÕt worth stuffing, but they made pretty good eating.
Sunday, November 06, 2005
Much Ado about Nothing
IÕd planned on confronting Ted today. In fact, IÕd sort of begun to work it all out in my head, how IÕd do it I mean. But sometimes things like that donÕt work out, and today was one of them. Sunday mornings my dad plays golf and Mom usually goes out to breakfast with some of her friends, so I was just hanging out in front of the TV, sipping a diet coke and channel surfing. Why diet? Not because IÕm worried about calories or sugar, really, but because I actually like it better and because its like the only thing I could find in the frig.
Anyways, IÕd just about despaired of finding anything worth watching when I noticed the light blinking on the machine. No big deal, right. I mean no one ever calls me on the land line, its always for my parents. My cell phone is my life line, really, and I donÕt think IÕve even picked up the home phone in years. But that light kept blinking at me, and eventually, I went over to the machine and listened.
The third message was from yesterday morning, and yeah, it was Ted.
ÒDaphÉ its me, Ted. Uh, I know youÕre probably off somewhere, but I wanted to tell you, um, I really had a great time last night. Really, I know it was kind of weird and all with my brotherÕs friends and stuff, but it was really awesome to be with you. Uh, IÕd like to talk, Daph. My cell phone number is ÉÉ.Ó
It took me an eternity to put my jaw back in place, but once I did and got my thoughts together, I cleared the stairs in less than a second and swapped my nightshirt out for a t-shirt, a pair of shorts and took my time getting into a pair of running shoes as I debated, and then finally decided to take the t-shirt back off and slip into a sports bra. The t-shirt went back on, as did a fanny pack for my cell phone and keys and I headed over for TedÕs house, jogging at a pretty leisurely pace soÕs to get my thoughts together.
TedÕs brother was in the kitchen with a couple of his friends, and a quick scan of TedÕs bedroom revealed he wasnÕt there. After another minute or so, I spotted him out by the pool, lying on a lawn chair next to.. you guessed it, that skinny chick IÕd seen him with the night before. I was cool, not mad, but cool as I walked around to the side of the house, hopped over the gate and walked back to the pool.
Ted looked up and his eyes got wide immediately. I, on the other hand was cool as a cucumber, and all together.
ÒHeya TedÓ I said, flashing him a grin even as I turned to face my nemesis, letting my grin stay there. ÒI donÕt think weÕve met. IÕm Daphne.Ó
I expected awkward, or maybe just friendly, or I donÕt know what. But not at all what I got when the girl, jumped up and charged me, grabbing me by the hand and hugging me.
ÒDaphne, IÕm sooo glad to meet you. TedÕs told me all about you, and IÕve been dying to meet you.Ó
My dazed and confused look didnÕt seem to stop the girl, but Ted must have caught it, because he was up in a flash.
ÒDaphne, meet Lisa. Lisa, Daphne. LisaÕs .. uh.. wellÕs sort of hard to explain.Ó
I guess Lisa figured something was odd when I turned to face Ted just a bit too fast to seem natural.
ÒI betÉÓ I said, but LisaÕs laugh cut me off and I twisted my head back to catch her grinning as she stepped over to the ice bucket. I decided to ignore her, for the moment and turned back to Ted, putting my hand on my hip as I covertly glanced at his crotch and then noticed the sweat on his forehead.
Ted was, well, there were some really great things about his tall and slender body if IÕd cared to think about them, but at the moment, I didnÕt. I was really studying him, trying to figure out just how much of that sweat was from the sun, how fast his heart was beating, that sort of stuff. It was my bud MendelÕs idea, really, that if I figured out how to read the signs, I could probably learn stuff from them, but, well quite frankly, I havenÕt yet figured out how to tell if a guyÕs lying to me. Ted was nervous, but I couldnÕt tell why.
ÒI thought you knew about LisaÉÓ Ted said finally, when my stare probably went on too long. IÕd actually been debating trying to make him sweat with a little heat vision, but IÕm not all that good about controlling it and didnÕt want to kill him, at least yet.
ÒNo, Ted. I didnÕtÓ I said. ÒYou honestly thought, what, that I wouldnÕt care? I got it,
Ted, or I guess I do now. Only, how come Lisa couldnÕt be your little arm candy?Ó
Lisa giggled behind me, but Ted didnÕt respond at first. He actually looked scared and I could hear his heart thumping aster, and thatÕs kind of weird, because I hadnÕt touched him yet. Still that told me a lot.
I waited, and then when I got tired of waiting, covered the few feet between us in a blur and tapped Ted back down onto the chair with a fingertip. He let out a loud groan as he slammed into it and I stepped over, trying to think of how IÕd tell him off.
Lisa rescued him before I could get a word out, though.
ÒNo offense, Daphne, but one, heÕs not my type, and two, I thought his little plan was about the stupidest thing IÕd ever heard, even from him. Seeing you, though, I see why he tried it.Ó
That made me grin, but I was still pretty pissed when I turned back to Lisa.
ÒBesides,Ó she said grinning, ÒI think it might be a little gross to have his stepsister pretending to be his girlfriend, donÕt you?Ó
Ok, right then and there, I was pretty much floored and must have turned beet red as Lisa handed me a glass of lemonade.
ÒI can loan you a suit, Daphne if you want to hang outÓ she said, obviously still amused, but at the same time, being friendly enough.
I did take the suit, which didnÕt exactly fit, and eventually ended up putting my t-shirt back on over it when it became obvious that I couldnÕt expect to have a decent conversation with either of them without it.
I spent the afternoon out by the pool, talking with Ted and getting to know Lisa. After while, Fred and a couple of his friends came out too, and it was pretty cool. In case youÕre wondering, I did not kiss Ted goodbye and, apart from that one time, never even touched him. I did give him my cell phone number though.
Sunday, November 06, 2005
Sunday night is family night with the Orgones, and tonight was no exception. Mom and Dad are really great people; raising a kid like me was not exactly an easy thing, even though my powers didnÕt really entirely get too freaky until puberty, I was never what youÕd call a normal kid. Although I wasnÕt doing things like lifting cars as an infant or anything, my strength was always way out of whack with what it should be, and even my senses were over the top. Try getting a kid who couldnÕt be vaccinated into school and youÕve got only the tip of the iceberg of what Jonathan and Martha Orgone had to deal with.
Puberty really messed things up even worse, too. Just like every other kid my age, IÕve sometimes thrown tantrums, and, well, at a certain point, thereÕs limits to what human parents can do to keep their feeble control over a girl who they canÕt lock in her room. DonÕt get me wrong. IÕm basically a good kid, but I also have needs that I donÕt really think most girls have on the same level, and I definitely have ways to get them that most donÕt. At a certain point, I think both mom and dad knew that I was going to do what I wanted to do and all they could really do was try to make sure I had all the right information and stuff. They certainly donÕt pry like some parents, even though they know I often fly out of my bedroom window and stuff.
Honestly, at times, I wonder whoÕs the parent and whoÕs the kid. Dad, for example, had a real rough time when I started to fill out. Its not like heÕd ever do anything, but its also not like he could hide the fact that he got turned on by me. He started freaking out, and I got pissed, which only made things worse. Eventually, mom stepped in and forced us to work it out, but its hard. Really, that whole episode was one of the biggest times I really saw how fragile my parents were, and after that, as much as I know it hurts both of us, Dad and I have had a whole lot more distance. MomÕs the one I can talk to some, but I scare her too sometimes, and I generally try not to upset her.
Nevertheless, I think both of them knew something was up with me tonight at dinner. I got Dad staring at me in a funny way a couple of times while I ate my asparagus and Mom was shooting him those looks, sort of like, behave and IÕll take care of this later. Me, I was happy, and chattering pretty incessantly, about nothing and everything.
It wasnÕt until after weÕd done the dishes and Dad was out walking the dog that Mom made her move and hopped onto the couch with me.
ÒOk, DaphneÓ she said, Òare you going to tell me why youÕre smiling like a Cheshire cat. DadÕs, uh ÉÓ
ÒDadÕll be fine, mom, after you two get some alone time.Ó
Mom blushed a bit and shook her head.
ÒHonestly, Daphne, youÕre right, but he is worried about you, too and so am I.Ó
I shrugged and sighed.
ÒItÕs a guy, momÓ I said. ÒJust a guy, and before you go there, itÕs a guy I have not been messing with. HeÕs like a friend, only, um, well, IÕm going to behave with him, Mom, cause I think he really likes me. Not just the packaging, but me.Ó
Mom smiled, but I could tell she was forcing some of it.
ÒDaphne, your packaging is pretty hard for guys to see through. Does he know?Ó
ÒNot yet, and maybe not ever, but IÕm thinking about telling him.Ó
ÒYou know the lecture, DaphneÓ she said.
ÒYa, I know it by heart, Mom, and IÕm not rushing into anything. DonÕt worry, ok? IÕm happy, and its like a crush or something, like IÕm a real girl.Ó
ÒYou are real, Daphne. DonÕt say that.Ó
ÒYou know what I meanÓ I interjected.
ÒI know, I know. But still, Daphne, you can get hurt. Not physically maybe, but É if you need to talkÉ.Ó
It was my turn to force a smile as she leaned over and gave Mom a hug.
ÒI know, Mom. I promise, IÕll be careful. Question is, what are you going to wear for Dad? I havenÕt seen him that ÉÓ
ÒDaphne!!!Ó Mom exclaimed. ÒCanÕt we at least pretend that you donÕtÉÓ
ÒI donÕt, Mom. Honestly, never on purpose and I try not to even listen.Ó
ÒGood, because, well, with you grinning like that, I think its going to be a longÉ.Ó
ÒMom!!Ó I said, Ònow youÕre doing it. IÕm not supposed to know heÕs got the hots for me, remember?Ó
We both giggled, and were still giggling when Dad came in. Then it was my turn to make myself scarce. I did listen a little bit. Pretty heavy panting for old folks. Weird, and gross, but I still canÕt help but smile when I know theyÕre enjoying themselves.
Monday, November 07, 2005
Just another boring Monday
Today was a weird day. I just donÕt know how else to describe it. First off, I really am going to have a price to pay for last Friday. I showed up, like I usually do for school, in baggy jeans and a sweater that would probably be big on Godzilla, but I guess I gave enough of a show last Friday that the guys figure they know whatÕs underneath it now. All day long, IÕve been swarmed, like shadowed by a half dozen or so of them. I turned down two genuine dates before lunch, and thatÕs not counting the times I had to turn corners quick, and even dodge underneath one horny guy whom I swear was gonna try and pin me up against the wall. Its freaky, really freaky to have that sort of stuff go on at school. Hopefully, itÕs wear off, but IÕm not sure when.
In the meantime, though, IÕm really kind of worried about how TedÕs going to handle this. I mean, some of the guys sniffing at me are really big, and heÕs not exactly buddy buddy with them to begin with. IÕm not all that sure how to handle that one, because when they spotted me talking with him at lunch, some of the looks got pretty weird and I think he even got a little uncomfortable about it, although he didnÕt admit it. He did, however, ask me to go to the football game Friday night, which is like way cool.
Lunch itself, aside from the time Ted came up and made my day, was pretty normal, other than the staring guys. I sat with Lauren and a couple of other girls, and for the most part, we talked about normal stuff. Nothing too cool, nothing to bad, honestly, other than the fact that CindyÕs brother got in a car accident and is really messed up.
After school, I went with Lauren to casually walk by football practice on account of some guy she wanted me to check out. He is cute, IÕll you that, but not that cute, and besides, there is something a little freaky about describing a guyÕs body for a girlfriend. I mean, lets face it, when you get down to it, most guys sort of look pretty similar, especially when theyÕre wearing football pads and stuff.
After that I pretty much went home, ate dinner with the folks, and now IÕm pretty much sitting here waiting for them to go to bed soÕs I can go out and play superbabe again.
My friend Mendel charted out the robberies and stuff, and he swears its like a line or something, with a different store each night, running east and west. Mendel says its like some really high probability that theyÕre going to knock off some place on Elm street tonight between midnight and two am, so thatÕs where IÕm going to hang out.
Hopefully, IÕll write and tell you what happens when I get back, but if not, I guess it can wait until tomorrow.
Monday, November 07, 2005
ArenÕt you glad I didnÕt get carded?
I got them. Stopped the robbery ring, or at least busted the two guys who tried to hold up the Liquor store and Elm and Mulberry tonight. Was it easy? Well, yeah, it really sort of was.
I showed up about 11:30 wearing a track suit with my mask stuffed inside the pocket, made a quick sweep overhead and then dropped down on top of a roof and waited. That, let me tell you was boring as all I donÕt know what, but after like forever, this 1970Õs muscle car thing pulled up in front of the place and a big guy in a stocking cap got out. IÕm no genius, but guys wearing panties on their head, theyÕre either real freaks, or up to no good.
While he went into the store, I dropped own on the car and incapacitated it. No big deal, really. I just snuck around the back and pinched the back tire. By the time the driver got out, IÕd hopped over the car and was making my way into the store. What did I see?
A guy with a gun pointed at the man behind the counter. If IÕd really been on the ball, IÕd have taken him out without even being seen, but stupid me, I knocked down a case of whiskey lying in the doorway. By the time I looked down to see what the heck IÕd done, the guy had half turned towards me, so, seeing as he wasnÕt pointing the gun at the storekeeper, I just moved in and took the gun from him before he even knew what was happening.
The guy started cursing at me, or at least I think thatÕs what he was doing, but it was kind of hard to tell because the sirens started going off outside. That sort of sucked, because it meant I had to hurry, so instead of really playing with the guy, I just gave him a little tap in the stomach and he went down.
The other dude was sliding all over the street by then, moving way too fast to be safe with a flat tire, but by the time I got to his car, I was really tired of getting rushed. Stopping a moving car is not all that easy, at least if you want to do it without causing major destruction, so I followed him for a couple of blocks before he slowed down and I pulled off the drivers side door and yanked him out.
Now, IÕm not exactly a scary looking girl, but doing things like ripping off car doors tends to be a little big intimidating. Likewise, I guess the fact that I didnÕt bother to undo the seatbelt, plus the way his leg sort of got tangled in the steering wheel sort of scared him, but the net result was, by the time I put him down and started asking him questions, he was in pretty bad shape, moaning and whining and all that.
Jeez, I hate that. Its easy to grab a guy and do whatever, but when you want to like get information out of them, you have to look them in the eyes, and thereÕs like nothing that gets me like a guy in pain. I mean, he was like sobbing and all, and its just like plain hard to interrogate anyone like that. After a couple of secs, I realized it was pretty hopeless. If there were other people involved, I wasnÕt going to find out from him, not without taking him somewhere else and letting him calm down, and even then, his leg started bleeding pretty bad. I ended up leaving him back by the liquor store, and made my getaway just as the cops finally turned the corner. I donÕt think they got a good look at me.
Another day, another good deed, I guess. I just hope that they werenÕt like part of some real big organization or something. I wander if IÕll make the papers? I bet not, because the policeÕll probably take all the credit. Still, I know I did good.
Wednessay, November 09, 2005
Musings on superpowers
I think IÕve got ADD. IÕm not sure how it could apply to me, but some of the symptoms match pretty well. I havenÕt written here in a few days, and thatÕs like one of the reasons why. The others, well, the school week was boring, and I was sort of just looking forward to Friday night with Ted.
How was it you ask? Well, it was pretty cool, at least until after the game, when we went up to the Point and Ted started to make a move on me. I think I screwed that one up big time.
Let me explain something about superspeed and supersenses. I pretty much try to avoid using them about 99% of the time. Its not only confusing to hear, see and feel things that acutely, but between that, and waiting for everything to unfold like molasses, its also freaky, sometimes boring, and really makes me feel incredibly lonely. If youÕve ever watched the grass grow, you may have sort of feeling of what its like. Sure, I can see even the little cells dividing and stuff if I really concentrate, but the big picture, the stuff I actually care about, takes forever.
So, what sort of happened up there at the Point was, well, ScottÕs hands and lips felt so good, I actually wanted to make everything last, and I sort of went into overdrive, even though I didnÕt move all that quickly. It was cool at first, because, well, I can take bullets with these boobs, but my skin is also, at the same time supersensitive, soÕs I could also make out the fine details of his fingertips as they pushed against me, even through my shirt and bra.
But then I started paying attention to Ted, picking up on his heartbeat, his skin temperature and the way his muscles were contracting and stuff. Its sort of icky to do that, but when youÕre thinking at superspeed, you can do a lot of stuff at the same time, and well, it was sort of fun, too. But then my impatience and curiosity got the best of me, and I started playing with him. No, before you think that, I didnÕt do something freaky like reach down and touch his thing. That probably wouldnÕt have been a real disaster, not to mention really embarrassing. Instead, I just kept my hands on his back and behind, but I also like really paid attention to how he reacted to what I was doing. His heartbeat increased a bit when I arched by back and pressed my chest against him, so I did that a little more, and the same thing worked as far as pressing his crotch against mine. I mean basically, I guess we were dryhumping, or at least thatÕs what Ted started doing.
Then I must have miscalculated or something, because his body tightened up and he blew his wad in his jeans. Ordinarily, I guess that might have been embarrassing for a guy, but Ted didnÕt like just apologize or get red or anything. He just lay there wheezing, taking these humongous breaths for a long time, and I mean a long time even after I turned down the superspeed thing.
During that time, I got a good look at him, and let me tell you, I wasnÕt all that happy about the results. Granted, he was all in one piece, but my supervision pretty much told me that IÕd given him bruises with my hands, my tongue, even with my boobs. Faint ones, ones that might not even show to a normal person, but it was still pretty shocking
to see how fragile he was, even when IÕd been so careful.
Of course, I donÕt think he minded, because my the time he dropped me off, his body was raring to go again, but IÕm not all that sure how I feel about it. I mean, I pretty much played with the guy, even without him knowing it, and it didnÕt much feel like I think its supposed to. In books and stuff, sex is like something people do together, only this wasnÕt like that. Its freaky, but honestly, when things were getting intense, I didnÕt feel like Ted was a person, so much as like a toy I could play with.
It got me thinking, as I went upstairs. Forget the sex thing, but suppose I tried like keeping on the supersenses and speed thing at other times. Honestly, I donÕt think IÕm supersmart, even if I can read stuff way faster than anyone else. But I can outthink anyone in terms of speed, and I can see stuff that other people canÕt. Seems like I could put that to use, if I can figure out how. Its sort of like on TV. SupermanÕs always hanging around and letting bullets bounce off him, when, I mean lets face it, he ought to
be able to tell the guyÕs gonna squeeze the trigger way before it happens, just by looking at the guy.
The ideaÕs got some practical uses, too. For one thing, until I can either afford a whole closet full of costumes or find one that can hold up worth a damn, IÕve been trying to practice my superheroine stuff secretly, soÕs not to attract too much attention. But it occurs to me that, at least a whole of the time, I ought to be able to do stuff without people even knowing whatÕs going on.
I mean, think about it. If I want to stop a bank robbery, do I really have to wait until its all come down? Not if I can figure out how to stop it before then and do it
without exposing that I even did anything.
Then, thereÕs how it might carry over into my other life. I know I can cheat on tests and stuff, thatÕs not what IÕm talking about. But lets say I want a job, as a waitress say, cause thatÕs easy. If I really just study how the interviewer reacts to me, could I get him to hire me by moving this way or that, or maybe saying the right things? That thing with Coach was like an example, only, well, it really seems like thereÕs more to be done with it than that. I can see neurons firing and stuff in peopleÕs heads and all. I almost wonder if thereÕs a way to figure out what those brain cells are thinking about.
Now that would be a real superpower. Just think about it. If I could do that, I could spot a guy casing a bank during the day and know whatÕs heÕs going to do way before he gets around to doing it. And I could also tell how Ted might react if I told him. Well, maybe not, I guess, unless I could predict the future, but still, it might be worth pursuing.
I think maybe on Monday, IÕm going to start trying to pay more attention to people, seeing if I canÕt figure out stuff from what I can see with my x-ray vision and all. If nothing else, it will give me something to do while IÕm bored at school
Thursday, November 10, 2005
Cops interested in little old moi?
Well, a whole day at school went by, and you probably wonÕt be surprised to find out that I suddenly didnÕt figure out a way how to read minds. Actually, thatÕs not entirely true, since I pretty much knew what most of the students were thinking and didnÕt much care about the teachers. Basically, what I did figure out though, was I donÕt think IÕm ever going to have a clue how to handle abstract thoughts, even if I can sort of tell when people are about to do things physically. Thing is, that really doesnÕt make that much difference, because, well, thereÕs pretty much not a whole lot they can do that I canÕt watch Ôem do in slow motion anyway. IÕm not going to give up on it, entirely though. Next step, I think is to try and start becoming a human, err.. superhuman lie detector.
I tried that tonight, seeing if could tell if a guy was lying, only IÕm still not really clear how to figure out why a guy is nervous and scared. I mean, um, in police stations and stuff, they put people in a room and ask them tons of questions and stuff, only a few of which they really care about. I donÕt have the patience for that.
My subject for the evening was pretty much what I think was a would be rapist. It sure seemed like thatÕs what he was trying to do when he jumped me in the park at 11:00 at night. Anyway, as soon as he jumped out at me, I pretended to run and let him catch me and pin me down. When he started pulling down his pants, I had a pretty good idea what he was up to. So turned him over and started trying to interrogate him. It didnÕt go so good.
First off, the guy was a fighter, and while he was obviously outclassed, its not all that easy to hold down a full grown man without hurting him, especially when heÕs self destructive. I weigh a bit more than I should thanks to my body density, but unless I do the whole flying thing, I can be tossed around. Not easily, but after I pinned the guyÕs arms to keep him from hurting himself, he nearly did roll me over. I didnÕt want to do it even then, but when he started trying to bite at my boobs, I squeezed his wrists a little bit and he finally started to behave.
Then, I finally started to ask questions, trying to figure out if he was lying to me, but by then it was hard to tell what was behind all the sweating and heart beating he was doing. Honestly, I donÕt think IÕd have figured out much, even if the cops hadnÕt showed up.
But they did, and that really screwed things up, on account of, well, how was I going to explain how my would be rapist was on the ground whining and crying?
I let the guy go and skedaddled, jumping up into a nearby tree while I waited to see what he was going to say. Would you believe the cops seemed very interested in his story? I couldnÕt believe he had the guts to say that a little blonde woman wearing a mask attacked him, but he did, and the cops took down his story and filled out an incident report on it. Ok, so maybe thatÕs not so weird. But what was weird was that afterwards, the cop told the guy that theyÕve been looking for her, I mean me.
IÕm going to sleep on this one, I think, but IÕm beginning to think that either IÕm going to have to stop practicing on real live thugs, or IÕm going to have to do something about the cops.
Friday, November 11, 2005
A bad week
This week sucked, ok? Like it really sucked the big one.
First off, and most important as far as my personal life goes, I think IÕm going to have to dump Ted. The guy is, well, heÕs turning into a complete nutcase and its really starting to freak me out. I knew I shouldnÕt have messed around with him, but I didnÕt expect that it was going to get this bad. HeÕs like, um, well, like a constant puppy dog, always yipping and yapping at me, and thatÕs when heÕs not sitting on his hind legs and begging for a treat. DonÕt get me wrong, I like the guy, but I mean, does he really think that IÕm going to let him feel me up every time I see him? I mean, yeah, I know he really likes it, and yes, in case youÕre curious, I know what he does just about every time after he sees me, too. ThatÕs creepy enough, knowing a guyÕs gonna go do THAT even if he doesnÕt do it when heÕs with me, but I guess I could overlook that, if I could, like, well find someway to explain to him how I donÕt really get off on it the same way he does. Its not just that heÕs so darned weak, either, although it certainly doesnÕt help matters much. Thing is, I canÕt even just lie back like any other girl can. I gotta do a whole lot more and its tedious. Between making sure I donÕt tighten up or anything and remembering to move when he tries to move me, and remembering not to hurt him in a bout a zillion ways, its just plain emotionally tiring. IÕm not returning his phone calls right now, at least until I figure out what to do with him.
The second thing thatÕs bugging me is probably a bigger deal, I guess, although its hard to remember that when the whole Ted thing has me so poÕd like twenty four hours a day. Remember that deal with the cops? Well, think it is for real now, even if it wasnÕt then. I was minding my own business yesterday in the convenience store, picking up a DC and some chips when the guy ahead of me pulls out a gun and starts waiving it around, demanding that the woman behind the counter open up the safe. I swear, I believed her when she said she couldnÕt get out more than twenty bucks at a time, but bozo didnÕt buy it. So, I did what I was talking about, watching the little muscles in his arm and stuff until I was sure he was gonna pull the trigger on her, and then I just stepped up and pulled the gun out of his hand. Screwed that one up too, by the way, because I broke his fingers, but that wasnÕt really what bugged me. What got to me, was that after I bent the guy over the counter, and just as I was about to say something to the lady, some guy yelled ÒStop or IÕll shoot!Ó
I turned around, and lo and behold, there was Officer Friendly, sticking a big gun right at me. Sure, I could have run, and its not like he could have shot me after heÕd been dumb enough to let me know he was there anyway, but I didnÕt. Instead, I played good little girl and started talking to the guy. He did put the robber guy in handcuffs, but he also had like a zillion questions to ask me, and I donÕt think all of them were normal. I mean, he bought my story about being a black belt and all, or at least he said he did, but he was looking at me really weird. So after I left, I hung around in back of the store while he radioed in his report. No doubt about it, not only did he make a big deal out of making sure he mentioned that there was a blonde teenaged girl involved, but from what I could tell, the guy on the other end immediately got all excited about it, at least until the cop told him that he was sure I wasnÕt the girl they were looking for. I could be wrong, but IÕm pretty sure I am, in spite of the fact that the guy seemed to have been blinded by my charms and excellent acting. The acting, at least, unlike my face and boobs, at least I can have some sense of pride in.
And then, on top of all those other things, last night, I think I killed a guy. No, scratch that, I know I did, only IÕm not sure if IÕm gonna get the rap, much less if I even deserved it. What happened was I lost my cool. IÕm pretty much invulnerable and all, so its not like the guy really hurt me when he grabbed me, but I wasnÕt paying attention, and he did surprise me. All I did, really was twist around to see who it was, but I guess I did it kind of fast, not to mention pretty hard. It must have been something about the way he was holding onto me or something, but he went flying and banged himself right into a wall.
Needless to say, I was pretty quick about checking him out, because I could tell he was an old guy and there was blood on his head, but the guy checked out way before I could even get my cell phone out of my purse and call 911.
As I said at the beginning, this has been a week from hell. I got a boyfriend whoÕs turning into a pervert stalker, IÕm a suspect for who knows what with the police, and now, I know, even if no one else does, that I killed some old guy, who, for all I know, was like having a seizure or something and just grabbed onto me to keep from falling.
All of this stuff makes me feel pretty miserable, and I donÕt know what to do about any of it. If I was a normal girl, I guess maybe I could see a school counselor or something, but I donÕt think thatÕs a good idea. Do you?
Sunday, November 20, 2005
Well, once again I proved tonight that being super doesnÕt mean you get everything right or that you donÕt mistakes.
In case youÕre wondering, IÕm talking about Ted. Tonight I just couldnÕt take it anymore, and really, I felt like I had two choices: dump him without an explanation, or give him an explanation and see how it would go.
Want to know how it came up? You guessed it, Ted was doing his best to gently stroke me into making out with him, rubbing parts of my body in an effort to turn me on, and I was trying my best to watch Buffy. After a long while, Ted finally came out and asked if anything was wrong.
ÒWeÉeÉ.elÉ.ÓI said finally, sliding back on the sofa and turning to face him. I could tell he wasnÕt happy when I did it, but he also seemed to like the view of me head on too.
ÒSee, hereÕs the thing, Ted. ThereÕs um, a lot of stuff about me that you donÕt know. Stuff that I donÕt tell everyone and, well, stuff that may explain some things, which would be good, I think, but also might, um, well, it might change things between us a whole lot.Ó
Ted looked confused and I smiled compassionately.
ÒItÕs um, like, well, you know Supergirl? I know you do, I saw the books up in your room. Well, thatÕs sort of how it is with me. I donÕt have the costume and all, butÉÓ
TedÕs eyes told me he thought I was crazy, and I cringed inwardly. IÕm a freak, but IÕm not nuts, and I didnÕt like him thinking that.
ÒDaph.. what are you talking about?Ó he asked.
I glanced about, looking for some way to demonstrate while sitting on the couch, and then gave up and got up and moved to the other side of the couch. No big deal, right? Well, I did it pretty fast, fast enough that I guess to him, I probably disappeared or blurred or something. I tapped him on the shoulder and when he turned his head, I kissed him. Lightly and sweetly, but on the lips and I didnÕt exactly worry about whether he wanted it or not. Its not like I was really rough with him, but I also didnÕt bother to pretend that he had any choice in it.
ÒWhaÉ Ò he said and I backed up on the couch and pulled my knees up, instinctively assuming a defensive posture.
ÒIÕm fast, I guess, and um, pretty strong, too. Then thereÕs the ÉÓ
ÒX-ray vision? Flying?Ó Ted said, somehow conveying his disbelief at the same time that I could tell he was getting turned on by the thought. That was weird, looking at him like that.
I nodded, waiting for him to see me do it, and then got up at superspeed and walked into the kitchen and grabbed a knife. By the time I sat back down next to him, it looked like he was just beginning to register the fact that something had happened, probably catching the blur of me leaving or something.
ÒThereÕs more, TedÓ I said handing him the knife handle first.
ÒYouÕre, what? Invulnerable?Ó he said now obviously having a hard time with all this.
I nodded again and held out my arm.
ÒYou can try to cut me if you want, just, um, be careful because the knife might break.Ó
Ted shook his head, plainly not believing any of this.
ÒTedÓ I said, ÒIÕm trying not to make this overwhelming, but, um, if you donÕt believe me, I .. I canÕt just let you think IÕm crazy. ThereÕs like other ways I can show you, but .. I donÕt want to scare you.Ó
ÒScare me, Daph?Ó he said shaking his head. ÒI É IÕm not scared, just um..Ó
ÒWhat?Ó I said staring at him.
ÒI just canÕt believeÉ.Ó
I sighed and stood up again, moving in front of him for a moment as I tried to figure out how to demonstrate without really freaking him out. Then I decided that a little freaking was in order.
I reached down and picked him up, pulling his body against me into an approximation of a full body hug. I could feel he liked it, but this time, I didnÕt bother to concentrate on relaxing my body. I just let him feel the hardness in my thighs, my abs, even the much softer and yet still impossible firmness of my boobs. And then I gave him a little squeeze.
ÒDÉ.DÉ. aÉ.Ó he gasped, struggling for breath, even as he began to struggle against my body.
I smiled. ÒDonÕt try to talk, silly, IÕm just making a point. I wonÕt hurt you, see?Ó
I let him down on the couch and stared at him as he struggled to catch his breath.
ÒYou.. you really are?Ó he said finally.
I nodded and sat back down on the sofa next to him, but a little ways away. Right then, I wanted to touch him, but I also knew he was scared, as well as turned on. The turned on bit I didnÕt really care about just then, but I didnÕt want to scare him any more.
ÒYep, and of course, um, its like a big secret, ok? IÕd hardly have a life if everyone knew I was a freak like this. Can you imagine, like, what the government would do?Ó
ÒYeahÉ.Ó Ted said shaking his head, ÒI can.Ó
So, IÕm sitting there watching him, you know, and let me tell you, it hurt to do it. He didnÕt say anything for like the longest time, and during that time, I could see and hear his heart pumping way and the sweat starting appear on his forehead. ThereÕs times when being able to focus like that, it really sucks, because even though I didnÕt really know what he was thinking, I could imagine it, and I had all sort of clues that, while he might still be turned on by me, he was scared. I mean really scared, and that sucks. I mean, its a good thing, healthy and all as far as he was concerned, but it still made me feel pretty bad.
ÒTedÉ..Ó I said finally, ÒTed, um, say something please, its me, Daphne.. please say something.Ó
ÒLike what?Ó he said finally. ÒDaphne, I just donÕt know what to say.Ó
ÒWellÉÓ I said, realizing I was about to start crying and desperately trying for that not to happen. ÒUm, for one thing, if youÕre going to keep ooching back on the sofa away from me, could you please, like, um, tell me youÕre not going to run away.Ó
ÒRun away?Ó he said, shaking his head. ÒCould I even?Ó
ÒIÕd let you, Ted. IÕm not a monster, I mean, well, I am, but I didnÕt choose to be this way. I mean, I wouldnÕt Ted. I just wouldnÕt.Ó
ÒDaph?Ó Ted said, Òdo you think, uh, you could like give some time, like to digest this?Ó
I stared at him for a moment and then nodded.
ÒYeah, TedÓ I said as a tear finally forced itself out. I was standing up by then and picking up my purse.
ÒYou take all the time you want, Ted. And, um, if you want to talk, when I mean, then you call me, ok? IÕm going to leave you alone, Ted, cause thatÕs what you want.Ó
And then I left, not really at super speed, but definitely not like slowly either, because I didnÕt want Ted to know I was crying, and I didnÕt want his family to know either.
Its been like two hours, and my cell phone hasnÕt rung. IÕm not feeling good about this.
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
Two Days and Counting
ItÕs been two days now and Ted hasnÕt called me. Ok, so my heart is broken, big whoop, huh? Well, IÕm not going to pretend that IÕm not falling apart over the fact that I really like the guy, I mean, REALLY, and heÕs suddenly treating me like a freakish outcast. That sucks, and IÕd probably be a nutcase over that by now anyway.
But I think thereÕs another problem. During the last couple of weeks, IÕd sort of gotten used to having Ted physically hanging all over me. It was frustrating and annoying at times, the way he was so impossibly frigging gentle, and the fact that I knew it could go only so far, but at least, well, at least I was getting something, even if it was a pretty pathetic something. Even ubergirls need a hug every once in a while, and IÕm missing Ted, honest.
But over the last couple of days, not only do I miss Ted, like the guy himself, but IÕm starting to really get antsy, desperate even for some kind of bodily contact. I know, its pathetic and weird, but thatÕs how I feel, and IÕve been really messing with people as a result. So far, IÕm still playing miss goody goody at school and all, but at night, well, IÕve been pretty active fighting crime, as well as, um, well, I guess you could say playing with criminals too.
See, hereÕs the deal. I got my issues just like any other girl, but fact of the matter is, IÕm also like pretty much capable of not only doing anything I want to anyone, but, when the someone IÕm talking about is a guy, a lot of times, they even think theyÕre willing. Playing the helpless little would be rape victim is not something new to me. ItÕs a good way to catch bad guys before they do something bad to someone else, and, um, well, I will admit, sometimes its kind of fun.
Usually, I just wait until IÕm sure the guy is up to no good before I stop him and make sure heÕs not going to do it again, but, um, well, sometimes, like just for kicks, I let things go a bit further. Its sort of like a learning experience for me in some ways. I mean, aside from the super strength and super speed thing, I guess I got the same power all girls have over men, only, um, well, maybe IÕm a bit super in that respect too. Playing along means more than just making sure the guy doesnÕt hurt himself or realize that IÕm playing with him. I mean, most girls in a situation like that would say something like, ÒPlease donÕt É.Ó and I guess it only spurs guys on more to do whatever it is a girl doesnÕt want. For me, on the other hand, its kind of different. Whether itÕs the way I look or feel, or whatever, IÕve discovered that I have to be real careful with that stuff. Honestly, its like, even a frigging rapist sometimes turns into pile of jelly when he gets too close to me, and like, well, last night for example, it suddenly got weird, like I knew and I think even he knew that he was the victim.
Most times, when I stop it, toss the guy off me and wrap him up for the cops, heÕs still pretty aggressive and all, but last night freaked me out. Oh, sure, he was trying his best to rape me, but he had this look in his eyes, it freaked me out. Its like he knew I was letting him, like he was soo desperate for it. That sucked, as far as IÕm concerned. Its like way too close to the way Ted looks at me sometimes.
Normally, IÕm gentle, even with creepazoids, but when I saw that look in his beady little eyes, I didnÕt really think that much about how hard I pushed him off me. By the time I got up, pulled my t-shirt back down and tracked him down, he was lying there whimpering. I think he broke his leg or something when he landed.
It was freaky. I did find a cop and tell him about the guy, but not what had happened. I just said I heard some weird moaning and stuff, and took off before he went to investigate. Hope I didnÕt screw up too bad there.
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
Pre Thanksgiving Light
He called. ThatÕs like the best thing that could have ever possibly happened as far as IÕm concerned, even though I didnÕt have much of a chance to talk to him. I was in the midst of a major, earthshaking kind of crisis that mortal boys just canÕt seem to understand at the time.
See, we donÕt do thanksgiving at our house. For as long as I can remember, Thanksgiving belongs to Auntie Em, but that doesnÕt mean we can come empty handed. Mom makes this killer sweet potato casserole thingamabob that is like the highlight of the whole shebang. Only this year, as luck would have it, Mom decided to break her ankle, so guess who was stuck cooking?
I got a confession, in case anyone thinks I do everything well. As a cook, I suck. Major suckdom, like from the minute I walk into the kitchen, things start to fall apart, and the fact that I can clean them up super fast only goes so far. Add to that the fact that Mom knows how much of a kitchen klutz I am, and you have a recipe for one stressed out super teen.
Of course, I can multitask, which is a good thing because IÕm running up and down the stairs to check on Mom, across the hall to my computer to type this, and then still trying to keep an eye on everything down in the kitchen. IÕm not physically tired, but emotionally, mentally, IÕm pretty much drained.
But the good thing is, or at least I think its good, is that IÕm going to meet Ted tonight so we can talk. IÕm pretty nervous about it, and IÕm thinking from the way he sounded on the phone, that so is he.
Ok, IÕm running now, I can smell the marshmallows beginning to overcook even from up here. Ciao for now.
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
The Non-Event with Ted
As tempting as it was to give the sweet potatos a little extra help, I resisted the urge and took advantage of the millions of nanoseconds I had at my disposal as I went about finishing Mom's sweet potato casserole and got all three big trays of the stuff into the fridge downstairs. Then I checked on mom, and finally went to face my destiny. Corny, huh? Well, it felt like it.
Let me be honest with you about Ted. I know I've got a crush on him, but at the same time, I'm not stupid enough to think we're going to end up married with a white picket fence or anything stupid like that. Ted's like.... well, I guess you'd call him an experiment. Can I even have the hots for a guy just a little bit and let him know about me and still have it stay.. um, well, I'd say normal, but thats like too weird. I've got guy friends, but I don't mess around with them, not even a little bit, at least intentionally, anyway. And I've got a very few friends who know I'm more than meets the eye. I can count them on the fingers of one hand, so adding another one would be a big deal, even if I didn't really like the guy. And I do like Ted. I like him enough that I don't like lying to him, and I also think I like him enough to let him be if thats what needs to be done. I was ready for that when I landed and walked across the empty stadium to meet him.
IÕm trying to figure out the right words to describe how the whole thing went without giving you a long drawn out blow by blow, because honestly, I donÕt think youÕd get a tenth of it if I did that. I think, um, the words are sort of like strained and freaky. I donÕt blame Ted one bit for being freaked out, honestly I donÕt, but I can tell you I was disappointed and slightly unnerved by the whole thing. Worst part, is I think telling him, in a way, put up more of a wall between us than there was before, in spite of my attempts at honesty.
DonÕt get me wrong, here. Ted was way cool about it in some ways. He immediately got the whole idea that IÕm going to have responsibilities most girls donÕt, and to his credit, he asked all kinds of questions about my plans, how things work so far, and all that. But the thing is, on the one hand, Ted stepped right in and showed me that great intellect I admire so much, and, like a moment later, he was getting all puppy like and docile. The whole scene was just plain weird if you ask me.
My gut feeling is, now that the catÕs out of the bag with Ted, soÕs my hopes of having any sort of a romantic thing with him. I could be wrong, I hope I am in a lot of ways, but I got this feeling that heÕs not going to be able to hang with it. And as much as that hurts, its also not entirely bad, I guess, because I donÕt think heÕs going to like disappear or anything. Quite the contrary really, my guess is I picked up another fan I guess youÕd say, a friend, I hope, but even I can now see how screwed up it would be to pretend like thereÕs a whole lot more there for us at this point.
Of course, its not like we said all this, mind you. What we talked about, well, Ted asked like a million questions and had me demonstrate some stuff like picking things up, flying and the heat vision thing. And he was excited about that, way more than I am by the whole thing, honestly. ThatÕs like part of the problem, I guess. Ted may be smart enough to see past my boobs and look me in the eye, but IÕm not sure heÕs going to get past the whole invulnerability and super strength thing in the long run. I flew him home, though, and gave him a good long sweet gentle kiss. It felt good, I think, but IÕm not sure its gonna be enough.
Thursday, November 24, 2005
My thanksgiving was fairly typical, I guess. We always do the Turkey day thing with my Auntie Em and Uncle Charlie, and as usual, I got pretty much overwhelmed by my twin cousins Eric and Erin. EricÕs ok, I think, but its not like weÕve got a lot in common. Erin on the other hand, is a frigging nightmare. SheÕs like eight feet tall, skinny as rail, with this gorgeous red hair and green eyes that IÕd kill for. SheÕs also like seriously brilliant and she knows it.
TheyÕre only a couple of years older than I am, but thereÕs like a world apart. EricÕs still in high school, but ErinÕs already halfway finished with her undergraduate degree and mostly just goes to school because of some funky law about it. SheÕs always been smart, and since we were kids, has always made me feel, well, short and stupid. Its not like sheÕs mean exactly, I mean, its more complicated than that. I think she was actually trying to be nice this time, but at the same time, she was talking to me more like I was a slightly retarded kid rather than a peer.
Honestly, I was sort of glad when Dad suggested we call it an early night on account of MomÕs ankle. IÕd had just about all the talking down to I could handle from Erin and Eric was looking at me in a way cousins just plain shouldnÕt.
Not much of an exciting Thanksgiving, huh? Well, guess what, as much as I complained about it, I really didnÕt mind it all that much. TheyÕre family, and its nice to have a family. Plus, when I got home, Ted called, and we talked for awhile. That was cool.
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Am I not alone?
Am I not alone?
IÕm asking because something really weird happened yesterday. This girl, I thought she was just a reader of my blog, but yesterday, she dropped me an IM that said sheÕd put up her own blog. I checked it out, and guess what? She says sheÕs getting superpowers. If you donÕt believe me, look over to the left under links and check out Risatara.
She seems nice enough, but IÕm not really sure what I think about this development. On the one hand, I kind of like the idea of there being someone out there that I have stuff in common with. But on the other hand, IÕm not sure IÕd wish my life on anyone. And IÕm really not sure IÕd wish anyone else to have powers like mine, purely as a matter of safety for everyone else.
IÕve screwed up and hurt people before, even killed them. And I donÕt even want to think about the property damage IÕve caused just by accident. IÕve also hurt my parents.. my dadÕs back is never going to be the same again, and that I did when I was just a kid. ItÕd be pretty easy for a girl like me to make a real mess of things, and honestly, I spend a whole lot of energy just making sure I donÕt. I just hope, if this Risatara chick isnÕt just pulling some sort of hoax, that sheÕs not a real bitch and has a decent head on her shoulders. If not, you guys had better watch out. Not that it would do you much good.
Of course, thereÕs some stuff there that I find really interesting. She got a telegram? Now thatÕs interesting because nobody ever sent me a nice little note like that. Of course, I was always different, even as a kid. The pediatrician couldnÕt draw my blood as a baby. I bet he could have though, back then if heÕd tried harder, but now.. I doubt it. My powers seemed to like skyrocket around puberty, and what was merely a little different suddenly became way over the top. This Risatara chick seems to be coming into hers awfully suddenly. I hope sheÕs careful, because its really easy to hurt people.
Thursday, December 1, 2005
Musings from Daph
Ok, IÕm using my superkeen powers of deduction here, and I think IÕve come to some conclusions regarding whoÕs reading this blog. As I see it, there are two main groups.
One is girls like Marina and Risatara, who have some things in common with me. I really donÕt know either of them well, but IÕm guessing thereÕs probably some big differences too. MarinaÉ I donÕt know about you.. you really want this superstrength thing? I hope for your sake it works out. Let me know if I can help you out. Risatara, we gotta talk girl. IÕm not going to hunt you down, one, because its not fair, since you are still coming into your powers, and two, because when you do, I donÕt think I want to piss you off. But trust me, hon, IÕm not going to give up on finding out if you might not have some answers for me.
The other group seems to be guys, and ironically enough they donÕt just seem like horny old bastards looking for some super teen nookie. IÕve been emailing a couple of them, and theyÕre nice respectable family type guys, with kids, mortgages and all. Kind of pisses me off actually, that I donÕt think IÕll ever have a guy like that, much less a life like that. Somehow, I just donÕt think IÕm ever gonna be driving carpool for a passel of kids and all and cooking dinner for my hubby.
Whats the point, you say? You mean youÕre not here to hear about you, but about me? Well too f-ng bad. Not only am I super, but its MY blog and I can write about what I want. And my point is.. let me remember it again.
Oh yeah, one of those guys, a really sweet guy with a wife and all, he wrote in a comment that I should like wish Ted away to either Marina or Risatara. I know he meant it well, but it sort of gets under my skin. One, I donÕt think IÕd want to risk TedÕs cute little but with either of those girls. Two, and this is my point, I guess, I donÕt treat guys like that. I donÕt treat girls like that, or adults, male or female. Hell, I donÕt even treat dogs like that if I can help it.
Just because I can do things doesnÕt make it right, and human beings, for all that theyÕre incredibly fragile, deserve respect. If Ted wants to dump me for some other chick, thatÕs his right, but I can guarantee you that if I ever dump him, IÕll do it straight up and not treat him like some pet I might give away cause he pees on the carpet. HeÕd have his walking papers, sure, but even if he did hook up with some other girl, it ought to be his choice. Not sure if that makes sense, but its kind of my philosophy. Might doesnÕt make right, and its not my call to do things like that.
Ok, IÕm off my soapbox for now. I gotta run to the mall with my freaky cousin. See ya soon,
Tuesday, December 6, 2005
Ted's first flight
Aside from the plethora of super girls popping out of the woodwork and making their way online, there isnÕt a whole lot happening in my life these days. Actually, I got to tell you, there rarely is. For the sake of simplicity, IÕm going to tell you the two biggest things that have happened to me. Promise not to laugh.
One is Ted. If you remember way back when when I first told you about him, I said I thought he was different. Well, I was right. The guy knocked my socks off Saturday night when he like completely ignored all the freaky stuff about me and took me out to a movie. IÕd never really heard much about Jonny Cash before, but let me tell you, now I think I may just become a seriously major fan. Honestly, IÕm thinking I may start trying out black as a uniform. Leather, lycra, something like that, but how cool would it be to walk into a nest of bad guys wearing dark shades, a black leather jacket and just kick butt? The movie was cool, honest, and Reese Witherspoon is always like a favorite of mine. IÕm not even going to mention the guy by name. He needs no introduction and if I start going down that road, well, its definitely not going to end up a coherent post.
Anyways, after the movie, we grabbed a burger and talked, like really talked about things, like for a long time. I donÕt know if Ted gets me, but I do think that heÕs got to be like the closest any guy could ever come to doing it. I told Ted about lots of stuff, stuff that, well, I havenÕt really told any guys about much. He freaked about a bit about me playing rape bait out in the park at night, and I didnÕt go into some of the more unsavory details, but he did listen, and I think he was trying to understand why I do it. He suggested I take him along, which IÕm still chewing on. Not sure thatÕs a good idea, on account of his safety, and, um, well, IÕm not all that sure how I feel about mixing parts of my like that.
Afterwards, though, I did agree to take him for a little flight, and that was pretty cool, I think. I know he got scared, even though I flew pretty slow and made real sure to keep a good hold on him. We did a quick fly around town, and I dropped him off at his car, promising that IÕd think about taking him with me sometime. Just not sure I want to do that, but it was pretty clear he wanted to Òsee me in action.Ó
I followed him home, just to make sure he got there, and headed off towards the park, mostly to think, rather than actually looking for trouble. And boy was I glad I did. The place was crawling with patrol cars and I dropped down next to one and snuck up close enough to hear the conversation between the officers inside.
No doubt about it. They were looking for me. A little blonde vigilante who was beating the daylights out of the local nasties. That bugs me, but what am I going to do about it? Hell, what exactly do they plan to do about it. Its not like they could hurt me or take me in, unless I let them, but all the same, I think maybe IÕm done with hunting rapists and muggers in the park. If theyÕre looking for me this badly, they might have sketches and stuff, and É well, I got a family to worry about.
Monday, June 19, 2006
Back and as distracted as always
Its been like ages since I got on here, which I really apologize for and all, but, well, hey, lets face it, just cause IÕm bulletproof and can make origami out of steel doesnÕt mean that IÕm like super-responsible or have my shit all together. IÕm pretty much as messed up as the next girl, at least where the whole learning to be an adult thing goes.
Reading my last post, its kind of ominous that it was about Ted. Jeez, Ted. What can I say. TedÕs likeÉ well, thank heavens heÕs not really toast, although he came pretty close awhile back. I really, well, to be honest with you, writing about Ted is just like the last thing I want to do right now, on account of, well, its painful, but since I wrote about him before, I guess you guys have a right to know why heÕs not gonna show up here in the same sort of way anymore.
At first, having Ted know about me was way cool. I mean, here was a guy who knew my biggest secret and he was like cool with it. But after a couple of weeks, it started to like get old. Ted was, well, like totally dependent I guess is how I felt, even though I know thatÕs not how it really was. Only, well, it sure did feel that way to me. Ted started like disintegrating on me, acting like a little frantic puppy or something, always waiting to get his back scratched and his tummy rubbed. DonÕt get me wrong, I liked rubbing his tummy, but it just wasnÕt cool when, well, he stopped being Ted and started being like, um, a pet who needed to be cared for all the time and all.
Plus, he misbehaved. No, he didnÕt wet the rug, although he did mess with the sheets a couple of times. But he just, well, he couldnÕt seem to get it through his head that I needed to keep my superpowers a secret. Oh, he never TOLD anyone or anything like that, but it was totally obvious that he was É. what was it his sister saidÉ. bewitched? It sounded like possessed to me, and, well, it did get sort of freaky when he started acting like nothing in the world mattered except me. Yeah, I know I liked that, at first, but then, I mean, give me a break, we both gotta go to school, and a healthy guy, he shouldnÕt be mooning over a girl ALL the time. Especially not when sheÕs got loads of other stuff to do.
Now, some of you pervy guys may think this is about sex. Well, guess what É youÕre both dead right and dead wrong. It is, because, well, I think sex is something that was lurking between the two of us the whole time, and because, well, lets face it, itÕs the thorn in my invulnerable skin and as far as Ted goes, well, no matter how big a deal he said it wasnÕt, I knew better. The guy wanted me bad, and, um, well, I just couldnÕt handle that up close all the time, not when I wanted him too, sort of. Only, there wasnÕt anyway I was going to get what I wanted, and honestly, there wasnÕt anyway he was going to get what he needed.
If I didnÕt care about Ted, maybe IÕd have kept it up. Some of the things we did, well, they were sort of cool and it was nice to be able to get inventive and all, but É lets face it, I didnÕt want my friend Ted to be reduced to messing with power tools to try to get me off. Its, well, humiliating for him, and pretty damned frustrating for me, especially when they didnÕt do all that much better than he did in the first place.
But the worst, the absolute worst part of it all was that I had to break it off. He couldnÕt, and poor Ted didnÕt even have the sense to try when I started cracking under the pressure. ThatÕs right I cracked. I didnÕt really hurt him, but I could, and, um, well, I almost did, just by yelling at him. My voice can get pretty loud and IÕve burst eardrums before. We had like several of those near miss things, when I caught myself just in time and ran off to get a handle on my emotions in a safe place. But me running off, it made things worse, I think.
In the end, I finally just girl handled him, telling him flat out that I was tired of the b.s. He couldnÕt do shit for me where I wanted it, and it was just sick and twisted for me to let him waste his frigging life on a girl like me. So, thatÕs it, I said, Òno more sex stuff. I want to be friends,Ó I said.
Ted took it well, I guess, not that he had any choice in the matter, and, well, its still like freaky between us, but I think, I hope anyway that it is getting better every day.
Damn, I just realized, I haven't posted in months, and when I did, its like a drippy personal kind of staring at my navel kind of thing about my non-relationship with a guy whom IÕm still friends with, but letÕs face it, heÕs not my type. Honestly, IÕm not sure he could keep up with me emotionally even if I didnÕt have to worry about rolling over and squishing him, but weÕll never know. But the point is, well, I KNOW lots of you guys expect more sex and violence from me than that. Well, F-you if you can't wait. I'll get around to heroic stuff anyway, and some of it is violent and sexy, I guess, although... well, thereÕs still like no real sex in my life. And according to Bill Clinton, there probably never will be. Of course, I could take up cigarsÉ
My Super Ex- Bad news for the Good girls
Ok, this may sound utterly ridiculous, but I wanted to say a few words about a new movie coming out, called my super ex girlfriend. I haven't seen it, and have no plans to, but even the trailer made me want to make some pretty darn serious points about this thing.
First off, as far as realism goes, this thing looks like typical hollywood drivel. First off, casting Uma Thurman. Give me a break. With legs that long, who in the blazes needs superpowers? I actually like her acting and all, but I mean, some of us superpowered types are vertically challenged and have to actually work hard to get respect. Get this ... superheroines do not necessarily mean supermodels.
Then there's this idea that the super -ex wants revenge. Give me a break again. Revenge? Just how hard do you think it is for a girl like me to get revenge on a guy? The tough part is constantly not using your superpowers or starting to think like.. like that blogger woman, that men are just worms that you can step on when they get in your way. Guys are... um, let me see how to put this. They're fragile, really fragile, and I'm not just talking about physically either. Human girls, for example are just as fragile physically, but they're inherently more adaptable and canny, I guess is the word I'm searching for. If a guy really pissed me off, honestly, I seriously doubt I'd bother doing any of the stuff I saw in that trailer. I KNOW I wouldn't throw a shark at him, for example. Yuck! Plus, its just damned cruel to the shark.
Now, I'll admit some of this may be sour grapes. I understand that this G-girl chick actually managed to do it with her guy, which is something I doubt I'll ever manage. And she's got a job, and apparently some pretty awesome costumes too, things which I don't have. But beyond all this, honestly, my biggest problem with this movie, is the chick seems like a total nutcase. Like, I mean, if she's that crazy, you think there'd be much of a planet left?
So, you got this nutty bitch with superpowers. And she's pissed off, right? Well, guess what, I don't think thats funny, I think its totally terrifying. Nobody'd be safe, and people could die real easily. Us supertypes, we can't afford to be complete flakes like that, or at least not if we want to have any hope of playing for the good guys.
But its not just unrealistic. Its also dangerous and discriminatory. I'll admit I'm selfish and immature sometimes, but I'm also probably the most restrained teenager on the planet. I got to think before I act, because, well, if I don't, things can go to hell so easily. So I do. I don't go around hurting people or peeping into their bedrooms and pants very often, even though I could. And its not just some awesome moral code thing, either. Its like a PR thing. I sort of, um, liken it to the whole American foreign policy thing. If you got more power than other people and you go around flaunting it, what happens? They hate you is what. Theyre jealous, maybe, or scared too, but the end result is, they don't like you and before you know it, they're thinking of ways to put you down.
A movie like this, it seriously gives us superior girl types a bad name. I got enough problems relating to the human race without stuff like this floating around. Even if it doesn't engender out right prejudice and discrimination, fact of the matter is, after a movie like this, the odds of me getting outed for some dumb mistake probably quadruple.
Honestly, I'm halfway tempted to track down the guys who made this movie and give them a piece of my mind. Course I won't. Know why? Cause unlike that fictional superthin long legged nutcase, I'm not a bully. Doesn't mean I don't feel like it sometimes, but I can't get away with acting out on all my emotional problems. Still, sometimes, I really wish I could.
Hey guys, Guess what? I'm in Florida, and as we speak, I'm looking through my lap top screen at one seriously hunky guy who's probably dreaming about me right now. Actually, he's probably dreaming about someone else, but what fun is that to think about. The important part is, Daphne and Traci are at the beach, and our "chaperone" is Traci's big brother, who, in spite of being something of a dork when you talk to him, simply has got to be one of the most devastatingly hot looking guys ever to walk the face of the earth. He's also sound asleep, and so is Traci, which is why I'm sitting here looking through his bedroom wall, bored out of my frigging mind. Honestly, sometimes being superhuman just doesn't pay. They're both dead from driving all night last night, and so now, I'm stuck here all alone, waiting for everyone else to wake up. I'd planned on walking down the beach but.... hold on a sec..... Yeow!!! Sorry about that. I know you don't know how long I was gone, but let me tell you, it was way longer than I'd planned. I heard someone screaming, and, well, I went to help. Easy enough to step out on the patio and rescue a drowning swimmer or fight off a hungry shark, right? Well guess again. Turned out, the kid screaming was sitting on a raft, and he wasn't in any immediate danger of anything other than getting a sunburn. But he was missing his mommy, which was sort of a problem. I swum the kid and the raft back in, and then spent the better part of an hour trying to find the little monster's parents. He swore none of those houses were his, although it took a while to get him to stop blubbering enough to figure that out. Finally, the police showed up and I left the kid with them, but not before I got the twice over by the cops. Mixed pair, male and female, which might have been ok, if they didn't seem hung up on trying out there good cop, bad cop routine on me. What the heck did I do? I pulled a screaming kid into shore and tried to help find his mommy. And just where in tarnation do you think I would put an ID in a bikini? Honestly, the whole scene was creepy and it didn't get much better later on in the day. By the time I came back to the condo, Traci and her stud brother were up, waiting for little old me to go down and hit the beach. We did, and spent most of the afternoon catching rays. My tan is sort of permanent though, and Traci's one of those pale skinned redheads who really shouldn't be out in the sun to begin with, so when her brother asked us to go get him some beer from up in the room, it seemed like a pretty good idea. Guess again.
No sooner had we stepped out of the condo door with one of those little six pack coolers full of beer, did Tweedledee and Tweedledum show up, sweltering in their black uniforms and frowning at us as they demanded to have a word with me.
"Me?" I said innocently.
"Yes, you, Miss Orgone" said tweedledee as she flipped open the cooler and smiled. "Unless you want us to charge you with possession of alcohol by a minor and we can talk down at the station."
"Uh.. here's fine" I said sheepishly, gazing up at Tweedledum to see if he'd show any compassion. He was staring at my boobs though, which only seemed to piss off Tweedledee more.
Traci managed to excuse herself, the cowardly bitch, and bolted down to the beach minus the beer to go get her brother, while Tweedledee and Tweedledum escorted me into the condo and proceeded to take my statement. That's what they called it anyway. Tweedledee basically verbally stripped me naked while Tweedledum did it with his eyes, and the two of them made me feel like a complete criminal, all the while, I wasnÕt sure what in the heck I had possibly done. It wasnÕt until after they had me sign a piece of paper that Tweedledum finally opened his mouth (besides to drool) and the two of them started acting like human beings instead of robocops.
ÒIÕm really sorry for all this, Miss OrgoneÓ said Officer Krupke (yeah he had a name and IÕd even use it once he started treating me like a human being), Òbut the kid youÕve found is really a mystery and weÕre going to get the same sort of grilling you just got when we file our reports.Ó
ÒHuh?Ó I said, displaying my masterful command of the English language.
ÒThe kid looks exactly like the picture we have of himÉ.Ó piped in Officer Gonzales, Òonly, well, thereÕs no way he can.Ó
I shook my head, plainly unable to understand.
ÒFreddy Masters disappeared on this beach twenty years ago, DaphneÓ Officer Gonzales said.
I still didnÕt get it, and she gave me a miserable look as she slammed her fingers on the table.
ÒThe kid looks exactly the same, Daphne. Same age, and heÕs wearing the same swimsuit his parents reported him missing in twenty years ago.Ó
ÒUm.. umÉ.Ó I said, confused and more than a little worried that I was missing something. IÕm not that stupid not to realize this didnÕt explain why they were explaining things to me. IÕve seen Law and Order, and the cops donÕt explain all the details to the witnesses.
ÒAre you aware Ms. Orgone, that this beach is under satellite surveillance.Ó
I cringed at that one, and Officer Gonzales went right on talking.
ÒYou swam out there pretty damn fast, DaphneÓ she said.
I swallowed hard. At least I hadnÕt flown, once IÕd spotted the kid, I just kind of swam after him, but I probably did cover some pretty serious territory pretty quickly.
ÒItÕs a time lapse thing, DaphneÓ said Officer Krupke, Òwe got a pic of you entering the water, and three seconds later, you were out by the kid, a distance ofÉ say 300 yardsÉ.Ó
Ok, now I was worried, and I protested as honestly as I could.
ÒI.. mmm I mean I can swim pretty fast, but there must be some kind of mistakeÉÓ I protested.
ÒObviouslyÓ said Officer Gonzales, Òbut given the weirdness of this case, having a hole in your story this big is problematic.Ó
ÒMy story?Ó I blurted out, Òbut I was just trying to helpÉ.Ó
ÒYou said you saw the kid from the balcony up here, right Daphne?Ó said Officer Gonzales, grinning like a spider about to chow down on a fly.
ÒUm.. I think soÉ.Ó I said uncertainly.
ÒGive it a break, SheilaÓ said Officer Krupke as he reached out and touched my hand.
ÒIts ok, Daphne. You can tell us the truth.Ó
ÒBÉb..utÉ I amÓ I said feeling my stomach coming up through my throat. What did they want? I had told them the truth, just not all of it, but what could I do?
ÒStop your snivelingÓ spat Tweedledee, ÒweÕre not going to arrest you, butÉ..Ó
ÒWe are going to be watching youÓ said Officer Krupke.
As the two of them got up to leave, I just sat there, trying to figure it all out. Officer Krupke was a perv, and Gonzales was a class A megabitch, but in a way, they really were trying to do their jobs. And this was, well, it was pretty weird.
It actually was exactly the kind of weird stuff IÕd always figured might take a superheroine to help deal with. Only, well, just how was I supposed to do that.
IÕve been chewing on this for like an hour now, and I guess IÕd better let it rest. Traci wants me down at the beach again. IÕll write more later, when I figure some more out.
Traci and I got invited to a party tonight, which is no big deal, really, on account of its right down the beach, and the two of the guys throwing it had been walking up and down in front of us all afternoon. Neither one of them was anything much, but from the way TraciÕs heart started pumping when they invited us, I knew we were gonna have to go.
It turned out to be pretty awesome, really, although I think we were the youngest girls there by like four or five years, and from the looks of the other girls, they resented it. IÕm sort of used to that, and when it gets bad I just tend to shut up and back away, but TraciÕs a bit more socially adept, and she wasnÕt about to back down from a challenge. She unbuttoned two buttons on my blouse and tugged me over to where the queen bitch and her boyfriend were holding court, all but shoving me into his face as she smoothly engaged with the older girl.
ÒSo where was it you said you were from?Ó Traci asked even as the guy realized what was in front of him and started staring down my shirt.
ÒVirginiaÓ said the girl, but even with superhearing, I pretty much lost the rest of their conversation as the guy in front of me suddenly fixed his huge brown eyes on me and I felt myself beginning to melt.
ÒYou are beautifulÓ he said in a deep baritone which seemed to reverberate inside my head. His hand reached out to touch mine and the world suddenly seemed to start moving at superslow speed. HeÕd pulled me to the side and had his hand on my back when Miss VirginiaÕs voice suddenly broke the spell.
ÒJonny!Ó she called out, Òyou get your mitts off that girl now, or else.Ó
Jonny did, and he was led off by his mistress, even as Traci grinned at me.
ÒNice work, DaphÓ she said laughing. ÒThat bitch got shown exactly what she needed to.Ó
ÒWha?Ó I said frowning. ÒNow, I mean, suppose IÉ.Ó
ÒObject to my pimping you out?Ó Traci replied smiling.
I frowned again, and then shook my head, laughing.
ÒOk, I guessÉ.Ó
ÒNo harm no foul, DaphÓ Traci said smiling. ÒCome on, lets get a drink before you remember to button your blouse.Ó
I did just that, and even as Traci led me over to the table where the drinks were it didnÕt take superhearing to hear the girlÕs scream. In fact, it seemed like just about everyone heard it, and the party seemed to move towards it, even as I deftly darted into the mass of people, endeavoring mostly to discretely lose Traci before I cut straight for the dunes and then ran the rest of the way, arriving well ahead of the rest of the crowd as I got to where the body lay.
He was breathing I saw quickly, before I followed the tracks back between two houses and spotted two men slipping quickly into a white van. Miss VirginiaÕs voice struck out then, just as I was about to take off after them.
ÒWhat the hell are you doing here?Ó she said. ÒYouÉ did you have anything to do with this?Ó
Stifling the urge to give chase, I contented myself with memorizing the license number before turning back to the nasty girl.
ÒNo, I.. I just heard you screamÓ I said even as Jonny moaned on the ground. HeÕd been hit hard on the head.
ÒStupid dumb jerk. What do you think you were doing ÉÓ the girl said kneeling down and ignoring me, even as the rest of the crowd started to arrive. I made my exit then, and Traci and I walked back to the condo. Traci was yammering, talking about what might have happened, and I tried my best to keep up, but at the same time, I was trying to put the pieces together in my head.
When we got back to the condo, the door was locked. I stopped Traci before she used her key.
"We sleep on the porch" I said, shaking my head. "Hear that?"
Sure enough, even without superhearing, Traci could hear the grunting and groaning coming from the living room once she put her ear to the door. Of course, I could see it as well, and let me tell you, it was pretty awesome, even it if was kind of icky to be peeking in on my sister's brother. I turned away quickly from the door and landed on the little wicker couch.
We stayed up pretty late talking.
Monday, July 17, 2006
When Traci finally dozed off, I waited another few minutes and hopped off the porch and walked down the beach before pulling out my cell phone and stared at Officer KrupkeÕs business card for a long time. Should I call him? The guy was looking for information on the kid, not on the two men whoÕd attacked the teenager on the beach, and yet, well, it felt pretty horrible to just sit there and not do anything.
Now, I know what youÕre thinking. With all my powers, why was I sitting around contemplating turning things over to the cops? Let me tell you, I was thinking exactly the same thing, and kicking myself, wondering why in the heck I hadnÕt just packaged up the bad guys earlier in the evening. I know why I didnÕt back then, but now I was really in a crack, trying to figure out how to tell the cops, without telling them how I knew, and these were cops who were already pretty suspicious of me to begin with.
And what could I do now? Finding the guys was not going to be easy, and all that bizarre stuff about satellite surveillance on the beach had me more than a little queasy about just flying about the neighborhood looking for them. I was stuck, honestly stuck, and my superpowers didnÕt tell me jack-shit about how to handle the situation. If IÕd gone to the beach with Lauren, or someone who knew about my powers, at least then I could have asked for advice, but Traci was definitely not in the know as far as superpowers go. She probably suspected something, like how I heard what her brother was doing so quickly, but like all of my friends sort of got used to some of that stuff, and mostly they never asked or made a big deal of it.
I started walking down the beach, still churning over it all and trying to figure things out when I heard something really strange. It was nearly three oÕclock in the morning, and for the most part, the beach was dead. There were a few parties going on inside some of the houses, and I saw lights on some of the porches, but for the most part, things were pretty quiet. And if they hadnÕt been, IÕd have probably had no chance of picking up the click and static of the police radio. I walked down the beach a bit more, and then spotted the patrol car, parked on the access way to the beach, its lights off, with the driver sitting there smoking a cigarette. When I was sure the cop was male, I knew this might be the answer.
Its pretty much a fact of my life that men are a whole lot easier to manipulate than women, especially when thereÕs no one else around. DonÕt get me wrong, IÕm no super-seductress or anything, and honestly, IÕm a complete amateur compared to girls like, well, say Traci, who really can work a social situation. But while I lack a lot in skill, I have raw materials which most girls donÕt, and one on one, I can still usually get guys to stumble a bit, especially older guys. In this case, all I had to do was give the guy an Òanonymous tip,Ó and even if I couldnÕt charm my way out of it, I could always just disappear into the darkness.
I stepped over to the cruiser, smiling and making a show out of putting my hand in front of my eyes when the guy flashed his light on me. I was wearing the same outfit I'd worn to the party: a white button down blouse and a pair of shorts, and the guy probably was getting some sort of weird effect from that flashlight on my top, because after going up and down me, it stayed pretty much focused there until I got right up to the cruiser window and he finally flicked it off.
"Hiya officer" I chirped as I smiled down at him. "I was, um, kind of wondering if you might be able to help me... um, see, I ...."
Officer Friendly's leer through me for a moment and I stumbled a moment before he cut me off.
"I'll certainly try ma'am" he said smiling as he got out of the car. "What seems to the problem?"
He seemed to puff up a bit and suck up his gut when he looked down at me, so I just sort of laid it all out there, trusting that he'd want to help.
"Um, see here's the thing officer" I said, "I saw two men run and get into a van, like right after that guy was attacked on the beach. I got the license plate number, its 543A621, but, um, like I don't really want to like give myname and all."
"You don't?" he said slightly foggily. Honestly, I think he was still staring down at my chest, which was just fine by me, because if he hadn't been, he might have asked why. I didn't want that.
"Nope, I'd rather not, well, I mean, I don't want to like get involved you know. So, now that I've told you...."
I took a step back and sure enough he stepped forward. Although I easily could have avoided him, at that particular moment, I didn't feel like it. I stood my ground as he walked over to me and put his hand on my shoulder.
"Miss...." he said, "you worried about, what, getting in trouble with your parents or something?"
Even as I responded, I could feel his hand rubbing my shoulder.
"Something like that" I said looking up into his eyes. I suck at reading people, at least at figuring out what they're going to do. I could tell he was turned on by me, like that took super senses to figure out, but whether that meant he was going to try to rape me, help me out or try and cuff me was something I didn't know. I wasn't going to let any of the bad stuff happen, but how exactly I was going to avoid it was still a question.
"I'm sure you can like just check out the plate, right? See if its stolen or something right?" I said softly.
He nodded, even as he brought his hand to my face.
"Yup, I'm going to do that, hon. And if it is, that'll be enough I guess to check it out, but there's procedures. I need your name and where you live."
I made a split decision then, and took a step to the side just a bit quicker than he could react to and stepped forward again, placing my hand on his. He blinked, even as I spoke.
"You sure about that?" I said, "cause if you like put my name in the file and all, its going to be official and, um, we might not be able to meet like this."
The miserable mother-humper laughed at me. I gave him my best attempt at seduction, and he laughed.
"Save it hon" he said smiling. "I been on the beat long enough to know that ain't no one looks like you interested in an old man like me, so y'aint gonna go that route. And, well, I'll admit I'm tempted to take you up on, well, you're tempting, but I ain't stupid enough to blow my career on some little jailbait tramp bottle blonde, no matter how hot she is. You gonna give me yer name or...."
Ok, I was pissed, and it was probably dumb, but I'd just been humiliated, and now he was reaching for... I took it out of his hand and it turned out to be a pad of paper, so I tossed it on the ground and just stood there waiting for him to breathe or something.
"What the ?" he said finally, staring at me and beginning to reach for his gun. This time I was pissed, so I grabbed his shirt with one hand even as I reached for the gun with the other hand. Unfortunately, the shirt ripped, and his gun hand clamped down on mine. So much for my attempts at subtle intimidation.
I just sort of shoved him down, real gently and planted sat down on his stomach while I extricated my wrist from his grip and tossed his gun to the side. I guess I pissed him off too, because his other hand started coming up, likely to try to knock me off him. As tempting as it was to let him break his hand, I resisted, and just grabbed his hands and smiled.
"You're way too slow old man" I said smiling before I released him and got up, scooping up the gun and turning back at him as he struggled to get up.
"Ok, Officer" I said, "I was nice and you weren't, so now I'm going to leave. Only, um, you got two choices. One, when I leave, I keep your gun and you can figure out how to explain how you lost it, or two...."
He lunged at me and I stepped to the side, giving him a little tap to make sure he hit the ground.
"Two, if you promise not to give me grief and just make something up that doesn't lead back to me, I'll leave your gun right here."
"What the .. how did you move like that?" he said, struggling to get up. I guess he hurt his knee or something.
"Like this?" I said after I'd put on a little burst of speed and seemed to appear a few feet away right over his little pad of paper. I scooped that up too and grinned.
"Come on guy, I don't want to hurt you" I said.
"Hurt me?" he said shaking his head.
"Well, yeah" I said grinning innocently as he took a couple of limping steps towards me. "Not like I'm threatening or anything, but its pretty obvious you can't catch me, and trying has already messed up your knee."
You know the guy did? He pulled out his billy club. Screw this, I said to myself, thinking back to that Monty Python movie Mendel had made me watch once. I just had this vision of the guy coming after me with no legs and no arms. But then I started to giggle at the prospect, and before I knew it, the billy club hit me in the face.
He yiped, not me, and as I wiped my cheek, he was clutching his right arm.
"Bad idea" I said shaking my head as I stepped over and kicked the billy club a couple of ten yards away before turning back to him. He was still standing, so I knocked him down. By pursing my lips and blowing.
After I'd walked over to where he landed, I picked him up gently with one hand under the arm and righted him.
"Are we done with this macho shit yet?" I asked.
"What the fu....?" he replied, but at least he didn't hit me.
"Oh stop cursing at me. I'm jailbait remember. You're corrupting me." Ok, I smiled at that, and to his credit, he almost did too, although he was probably too confused to get it out.
I sighed, which he seemed to like and shrugged as I stepped back.
"Ok, I tried to play nice, but you didn't want to. So, here's the new deal. You mess with me, you put even a description of what I look like on your report, and if it comes back to me ..."
I struggled for a moment, trying to figure out how to make a demonstration without like messing up his gun and leaving evidence or something, and then finally just stared out at the ocean for a couple of secs. A huge rush of steam was suddenly visible in the moonlight.
"Um.. see ...." I said, trying to articulate my threat. He finished it.
"I get the message, girl. I get it" he said shaking his head. "I don't know what you are, but I'm not gonna mess with you, ok? I ... somehow I think you're still not showing me half of what you've got."
I smiled and shrugged again.
"So, if I behave, am I going to have to worry about ...."
I shook my head.
"Nope" I said. "Honestly, I just wanted those guys caught and, well, now you sort of see why I didn't want my name in the report."
"I'll bet...." he said.
I stepped over and picked up his gun, billy club and pad and handed them to him, smiling.
"Youre not hurt too bad are you?" I said with genuine concern. "I tried not to hurt you."
"I'm fine" he said shaking his head as he took his stuff, holding his gun for moment. "If I were to..."
"Don't...." I said.
"I'm just asking" he replied as he put it away.
"Well, since you asked, I don't like being shot at, ok."
"Uh ok. Um...." he replied.
"What?" I said putting my hand on my hip.
"Another question..." he added, "like, suppose I had taken you up on your offer....."
"If you'd behaved yourself, your knee and arm wouldn't hurt."
"But, um, my...." he gestured down at his crotch and I shook my head.
"It wouldn't have gotten that far. My turn..." I added. "You really can't take an anonymous tip? If I'd been three hundred pounds with no boobs ...."
"I'm supposed to try to get your name" he said.
"Ok, well you tried" I said smiling.
"Yeah, but now I want it for other reasons..." he said under his breath.
I heard it but pretended not to.
"Ok, officer, well I'm gonna go dissappear, ok? Bye."
And I did, at least as far as he was concerned, walking deliberately the wrong way down the beach until I cut back about ten minutes later and walked back to the condo.
That was a very weird encounter. As bizarre as it was, I sort of liked the guy. But it was bizarre, and I knew I'd screwed things up pretty badly by showing him I was different, not to mention messing with a cop. It wasn't at all the way I thought a real superheroine would have handled things. Of course, I wasn't a real one. I mean, suppose I had a costume and mask and all. Would things have gone differently? That's what I'm thinking about now, as I turn off the computer and get at least a couple of hour's sleep.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
They wanna make nice?
Today I tried really hard not to think about cops, crimes or superheroine stuff. Traci and I went to the outlet mall, and we had a blast. The Orgone family is not exactly wealthy, and I tend to be rough on clothes, so in general, I donÕt spend a whole lot of time shopping, but TraciÕs another story entirely. Her dadÕs real generous, and sheÕs got a real knack for spending his money. By the time we got finished, I ended up with a pair of shoes and a swim suit but Traci had about eight bags, all full of some really fantabulous stuff. And we finished early because the sun came out again, and we figured we could still catch a couple of hours of rays. It wasnÕt until we got home that anything really out of the ordinary happened.
Traci went down to the beach to go tell her brother we were back while I started to unload the car. I was just leaning over the trunk to get at the last bag way in the front when that Gonzales woman announced her presence.
ÒNice ass, DaphneÓ she said, Òbut if its all the same to you, IÕd rather be looking at your face while we talk.Ó
I banged my head on the trunk as I climbed out and turned to face Officer Gonzales, taking a good look at the woman. One of my online buds mentioned this morning that most cops donÕt have access to satellite technology, so I had good reason to size her up.
Probably about forty, with black hair and slightly grey roots, she was a pretty attractive woman, and sheÕd probably been a real looker when she was younger. Now, even though she smoked (and it smelled like some really nasty brand too), and was facing what every (or at least most, IÕm not sure how its gonna be for me) women face with age, she still was probably like in the top percent of women in looks for her age. Plus, although I doubt any normal person could tell, I could see the woman was in really good shape. Things sagged here and there underneath that boring but well tailored suit, but she obviously worked pretty hard at staying in shape. The shoes were like godawful though, and there were holes in her underwear. I donÕt really know what cops dress like, but she definitely was on some kind of a budget.
ÒOfficer É Gonzales?Ó I said, pulling briefly on the front of my shorts as I squinted at her in the sun.
ÒYes, DaphneÓ she said, ÒthatÕs my name, although if you like, you can call me Sheila.Ó She smiled, and there was something really freaky about it.
ÒUh, okÉÓ I said, Òum, what can I do for you?Ó
Sheila smiled again, making me even more nervous and tugged at her hair before she answered.
ÒNot a thing, DaphneÓ she said still smiling. ÒI just came by toÉ forgive me, because, well, I donÕt normally do this, but I came by to apologize for the way we questioned you yesterday. ItÕs a really strange case, and É well, I guess we were a bit uptight.Ó
I just looked at her for a moment, and she looked back, like she was expecting me to say something next. So I did, although I didnÕt feel like it.
ÒOk, I mean, its not like you arrested me or anything. No big deal.Ó
ÒOf course not, DaphneÓ she said, ÒweÕd never arrest you for rescuing a stranded child. No matter how strange the circumstances. You know, IÕve got a niece your age. You sort of remind me of her, the way you talk.Ó
ÒI do?Ó I said trying to sound innocent. This was definitely weird the way this was going.
ÒYes, you do, Daphne, and thatÕs a compliment. Most girls your age, well, theyÕre really stuck up on superficial stuff, but, well, I have a feeling youÕve got depth, Daphne, like thereÕs more to you than meets the eye.Ó
Ok, now I knew something freaky was going on, and I squirmed a bit, not sure what to say to that.
ÒWe want to make it up to you Daphne, Frank and I. How about we take you and your little friend to dinner?Ó
ÒDinner?Ó I said incredulously. ÒLike, why?Ó
ÒDaphneÓ Sheila said smiling. ÒStop being so suspicious. IÕll lay it out for you. FrankÕs a sucker for pretty girls and you qualify. He feels bad about the way we treated you, and in a way, so do I. What do you say?Ó
ÒI .. umÉÓ I blurted out. But she cut me off.
ÒTalk to your friend, Daphne, and if you want, you can bring her brother along too. IÕm coming by this way this afternoon anyway, so its no big deal.Ó
As Sheila left, I was really chewing on how weird this was, and grabbed the bags, trotting up into the house. I opened the door and as I passed the table behind the couch, I heard this really high pitched squeal. Stuff like that, its everywhere, sounds that other people canÕt hear, coming from telephones, appliances and all kinds of things, and usually I just ignore it, along with a whole lot of other background noise. But for some reason, this time, I gave that telephone a real close look. Sure enough, taped to the underside of the phone was some kind of microchip type thingie, and thatÕs where the sound was coming from.
IÕm no dummy. I knew it was a bug, and IÕd been forced to sit through enough spy movies to know that squishing it would only let them know I was onto them. So, IÕd let it be. But why was our house bugged? This was really not making much sense.
Damn, I wish Scott or Mendel was here. I got brawn in spades, and if you buy what guys say, beauty too, although I donÕt really see that one nearly as much. But brains? I got left out of that department, and figuring stuff out is just not my cup of chai.
DratÉ, here comes Traci. IÕm gonna write later. Maybe IÕll fly back home and get some help later, but until then, IÕm gonna have to wing it.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
It IS my vacation after all
That Sheila woman never showed up this afternoon and after awhile I just stopped worrying about it. Its probably just my ditzy self, but, well, think about it. It IS my vacation, and who cares if someone wants to bug the telephone where we're staying if there's no one talking on it. I mean, besides the fact I don't want to tell Traci and her brother about all this, what's the downside to just going out and enjoying the nightlife on the beach.
Traci looked hot as hell, at least in my humble opinion, in a cute little sea green skirt and white top which showed off her legs. I'd die for long skinny legs like that, honest. Traci's like model pretty, really and I think she belongs on a catwalk or something. After like an eternity of debating the issue, I opted for a pair of shorts and a really cool magenta blouse. Nothing too flashy really, but if you like curves on short athletic women, I have lots of them, and the blouse was fitted well enough to show off my bust without being totally gross. Traci's brother was already out, so T and D just walked down the beach to the party all by ourselves, each of us anticipating a good time and a certain, not necessarily identical, measure of male attention.
Can I tell you it was awesome? There must have been three hundred people, and while Traci and I were on the young side of the crowd, there were plenty of kids just a bit older, a fair number of adults and even a few little kids tugging at their mommy's skirts and begging for hot dogs and cotton candy. The band was some kind of Southern Rock thing, doing lots of bluesy heavy guitar stuff, and everybody seemed pretty into them.
After grabbing some sodas, it didn't take long for the vultures to start swarming, and before you knew it, Traci and I were dancing the night away with virtually our pick of guys. I expected Traci to settle down on one first, but I guess I was sort of distracted tonight, and so after a dance with one really cute college guy, I let him buy me a drink and we walked away from the band to talk and stuff.
This guy, Greg, was just awesome. Six feet two, with dark brown hair and these gorgeous green eyes, he plays on the tennis team and is studying communications. He says he wants to be an anchorman someday. Pretty much the guy had a perfect packaging, and to boot, he seemed not only sweet, but interesting too. That's real important to me, because I don't have a lot to talk about about myself, and on top of that, I got a pretty dismal attention span.
But Greg kept talking about all kinds of stuff, school, his family, what he wants to do. And that wasn't all. He had all these really interesting political stuff too, like insights onto why people do what they're doing which was like totally cool. Now, in case you're wondering, I know and am fully conscious of the fact that what I'm saying was a totally awesome conversation was pretty much overwhelmingly one sided. And I know that Greg was laying on the charm pretty heavily, probably to impress me and all. I mean, lets face it, although I'm sure he would deny it, his interest in me couldn't possibly be because I was interesting, because I barely said a word for every dozen or so of his. No, Greg was strutting his stuff like a peacock hoping to get lucky with a female, and I know I just happened to be a nicely shaped female with seemingly all the right parts who wasn't running away or chasing him off. But you know what, his little array of feathers was pretty cool, and, well, lets face it. I'd be squirming like a stuck pig if he started really trying to know me and asking too many questions. Between being totally ignorant of a lot of things, and having to hide so many other things about myself, real heart to hearts are a bitch for me. They make me nervous, and one thing I wasn't around Greg was nervous.
At least until the band stopped playing and all and Greg offered to walk me back home, anyways. For all that he'd been a perfect gentleman, I knew all too well that Greg was aroused and would probably appreciate a good night kiss, at the very least. And you know, I kind of liked that idea to. It was only my fear of what else he might expect that really had me worried just then, and whether I wanted to do something else, and for that matter, why. Greg was not my type, not that I know what my type is. But for all that I really liked having an easy date tonight who expected nada from me except to nod every once in awhile, I didn't think I could handle him, like his self possession, like again.
I feel bad about thinking about guys like this, but the fact of the matter was, I was bored with Greg. He was like a very sweet pastry that you could enjoy once, but after awhile you'd get sick of it, and it sure as heck wasn't nutritious. Greg was a nice diversion, a summer fling, I guess, although I'm sure he would like to fling a bit more, but by the time we got to the house I was staying at, I was pretty sure that he wasn't relationship material, even in a long distance way.
So when he kissed me goodnight, I'd planned on just giving him like a friendly little peck, and maybe just brush up against him enough to not be totally rude. I mean, the guy was totally hard, but he'd been awesomely cool about it, right? And well, yeah, just because I didn't want to keep him didn't mean I wouldn't enjoy a little through the clothes skin contact.
We walked up to the porch, and I turned, smiling as I looked up at him, expecting to reach up and give him a kiss, but instead of letting me, what Greg did surprised the daylights out of me. He stared at me, frowned, and then looked off into space for a second. My mouth opened in surprise, and Greg reached out to take my hand and pulled me close to him, pressing his most senstive part against my stomach.
"Daphne" he said softly, "you're the most fantastic girl I ever met. You're beautiful, but you're not stuck up, and you're not only sweet, but incredibly bright, vivacious and full of life. Its like I've been waiting all my lifeÉ."
As Greg rambled on, my superstrong stomach suddenly got super-sensitive and I had half a mind to hurl all over him. He was going so way over the top, it was like disgusting, because there was no way he could mean any of what he was saying. Pretty ok, but as he went on he kept saying things about how interesting I was, and how smart , it was so disgusting. I knew he was a smooth talker, but here he was blatantly lying to me. Why? Did he think I was that stupid? Did he really think I'd believe this? Moreover, I thought as I heard another ridiculous and insincere superlative pop out of his mouth, why in the world would I want this.
Finally, I just couldn't take it anymore, and I gently slid my hand up to his chest, pressed lightly and stepped back so that I could look him in the face instead of the bottom of his chin.
"Tonight was nice, Greg" I said. "Maybe I'll see you tomorrow before we leave?"
I was proud of myself, cool and nice, like it was no big deal, like my heart wasn't broken and like I didn't feel like picking him up and shaking him until he peed all over himself.
Greg looked confused for just a moment, and then nodded.
"Yeah, uh, alright" he said, and then regained a bit more composure. "I guess that means you're not giving me your phone number?"
I smiled, sadly.
"Yeah, Greg, that's what it means. Sorry if I wasted your time."
Greg looked funny and then kind of half smiled.
"Our time, Daphne" he said calmly, "but then again, that's sort of the problem isn't it. Too bad, 'cause when your mind grows into that body of yours, then we'll both know what we could have had. Oh, well, night's young and maybe I can still hook up with a real woman, not just a high school tease. Ciao, Daphne."
I stood there, my mind reeling, fuming half at him and half at me as he walked away. Then I wanted to scream and cry all at once, but when I turned back to the door, I saw Traci and a guy, her brother and some girl, all sitting on the sofa, obviously about to do something else. No way I was going in there, not in my current emotional state and after my total humiliation.
One good thing about being super, I thought as I stepped down off the porch and started walking down the beach, is at least I'm not scared walking on the beach at night. And with my supersenses, nobody's gonna get close enough to see me sobbing like the little girl Greg just nailed me for. Part of me knew it was dumb, and just sour grapes on his part, but it still hurt, the way he'd talked to me. And the way I'd let him talk, too, and then there was the fact that I even cared. I mean, I'd pushed him away, and now I was whining about the fact that he took his frustration out on me. I mean, how hopeless am I?
I made it about a half mile down before I stopped crying and then started walking back towards the house. When I got there, I crashed on the back porch, not wanting to go inside just yet. I was better, but by then things were pretty hot and heavy inside. What a night. I'm going to be glad when this little vacation is over. Besides all the weird stuff, its turning out to be a real emotional downer. At least when I go to sleep alone at home, I can hug my stuffed animals and claim my parents as an excuse. Here, the only thing to blame is me.
Typing away in the car
Well, youÕre friendly little supergirl in training is now on her way home from vacation, trapped in the backseat of a way too small car and typing away on a lap top. So much for glamorously flying all over the world in an instant, huh? As tempting as it is, itÕs a bitch to carry luggage that way, and besides, explaining just how I got home would sort of be a pain in the neck.
IÕm torn, at the moment, between leaving the beach and all those issues with Tweedledee and Tweedledum and the mysterious kid behind me, or coming back to try and deal with them later. Although it takes hours to make the drive, I can fly it much more quickly, and a little safe snooping in a strange town might actually be good practice for me. ThereÕs that cop I met on the beach, too. Been thinking about him a lot, or maybe not just him but cops in general. IÕve always thought of them as mostly a pain in the neck as far as IÕm concerned, but now IÕm rethinking. Even short of actually coming full public, it seems like I ought to be able to get individual cops to help me out pretty easily. I mean, none of those guys egos can probably hold up to what I can do to them, and thereÕs the whole t and a thing helping me out too.
But regardless of how I go about it, one thing is crystal clear to even my sometimes foggy brain: I need to do more than mope around in my miserable attempts to be a normal girl. One, I just plain suck at it, ok, and thatÕs downright depressing. Two, I need challenges I can meet, not ones that are so incredibly way over my head I get beaten to a pulp every time. In Òreal lifeÓ IÕm a klutz and a loser, and the cartoonish figure and face IÕve got only make things worse, not better. But in Òmy other real lifeÓ IÕm likely totally f-ing invincible. Certainly, I havenÕt met anything I canÕt deal with, and my guess is IÕm not likely to from a physical perspective. I still have to work on the technique and strategy stuff, but the only way IÕm going to improve is with practice, so thatÕs what IÕm going to do.
Yay!!!! WeÕre pulling over for gas. IÕll check in later.
Friday, July 21, 2006
IÕm home. And guess what, I miss the beach already. You know what my folks were doing when got home? Yardwork. And guess who in the Orgone family doesnÕt have a bad back and can do the heavy lifting without breaking a sweat?
Yeah, thatÕs right. Me. Little tiny me, delicate flower that I am, got stuck with unloading and then spreading topsoil, mulch and É get this, I even had to lay the dadgumned sod. Sure, the heat doesnÕt get to me, and all, but its like totally incredibly boring and I got covered in dirt. Disgusting, is what it was.
My dad is one crazy human being, getting a truck load of that stuff so late in the day. Suppose I hadnÕt come home. You think he could have even got it all off the truck? Not a chance, buddy. This afternoon, I was super-slave labor, and even this evening, IÕm super-unappreciated.
IÕve been gone for a week and youÕd think maybe I might get like a home cooked meal or something? Maybe even one of my favorite dishes? Nope. Mom and Dad are out on the town, and IÕm stuck here, wondering if IÕd do more damage to a microwave dinner by putting it in the oven or by zapping it with heat vision. Did I mention the microwave was broke? I did think of that one, IÕm not that much of a ditz.
I got a list, honest. Microwave doesnÕt work, the sink in my bathroom leaks, the toilet downstairs runs, and.. get this, the frigging cable box broke and while Daddy was nice enough to get a new one, he got this fancy DVR thingie which is still in shrinkwrap and doesnÕt seem to have any instructions.
All of that would be like no big deal if I could just like order a pizza or go out for a burger. But did super-parents think to leave their little girl money for dinner? Of course not.
Today is, well, ok, its probably not half as bad as it seems, but it feels six times that bad to me, and since its my blog, thatÕs what counts. IÕm in just a nasty mood, about this that and everything. So nasty in fact, that IÕm sort of afraid to go out and go play super chick. I mean, I looked at the dog tonight, and he ran away. What hope do you think a criminal would have of living?
I think tonight's a night for ice cream and, well, a movie would be great, but since the cable's out, I figure I'll probably just spend the night on the telephone. So much for a glamorous evening.
Heading to the Himalayas
Today is going to be a much better day than yesterday; I can feel it in my bones.
And no, in case youÕre wondering IÕm not wasting my time going to see My Super-Ex Girlfriend. Seems like a complete and utter waste of time. I am, however, still not feeling especially social, so I cooked up this new idea: Mountain climbing.
Seems like thereÕs always something bad happening way up high in the Himalayas, and since I hear helicopters have a tough time rescuing people at those altitudes, IÕll see how I do. Course, IÕm not exactly close to any really high mountains, and I donÕt have anything close to a proper wardrobe, so IÕm going to have to wing it.
First off, if I want to fly to Nepal and back in a day, itÕs a sad fact of life that IÕm not going to be able to wear anything while IÕm doing it. Maybe somebodyÕs got fabric that will hold up to those speeds, but I donÕt and I probably couldnÕt afford it. So basically, IÕm going to do the whole flying in the buff thing, and try to pack up something climate appropriate in an old steel suitcase dadÕs got lying around to change into once I get there. Cold weather doesnÕt like make me sick or anything, but its not like I enjoy getting ice all over my naked body, so I figured IÕd pack up a set of tights, and a fleece jacket. Its not really all that warm, but at least, if I do meet up with anyone, IÕm a little less likely to freak them out. And donÕt want to make any abominable snowmen too horny.
Next problem, I guess is directions. Seems like if I fly either due east or west, IÕll get in the general vicinity, but after I spot the Himalayas, how am I going to know where I am. They donÕt put up road signs up there, you know, and finding, say the little flags on top of Everest isnÕt all that easy. I want one of those cell phones with a GPS, but theyÕre sort of pricey, so IÕm going to have to wait on that. I got on Mapquest, and it seems pretty easy to like find Kathmandu, and from there I ought to pretty much like go northeast and IÕll get to Everest. Wish me luck.
Monday, July 24, 2006
Old Mountains, new challenges
Well boys and girls. I did it. It turned out to be a lot harder than I expected, but I found Mount Everest and sat my super behind on the summit. Guess what, it was cold, hard and even though it didnÕt kill me, the wind was freezing and the air was really thin. IÕd never noticed it when flying, but once I actually sat down at almost 30,000 feet and started mucking around with all the junk at the top, I discovered that it really isnÕt all that much fun to be breathing frigid super thin air. And for all you pervy guys, yeah, you guessed it, I was flat wrong about that suitcase. I lost it somewhere over the ocean. So, in case any of you guys have like a satellite picture, if you look real hard at the top of Everest, you might catch a glimpse of me wearing icicles for pasties.
After that, though, the trip was something of a disappointment. There were not only no cute mountaineers up there needing rescuing, there were none at all. They must only like climb at certain times of the year or something, because the winds were, well, way nastier than I think any human being was going to be able to handle. I even got knocked off the summit once, when I wasnÕt paying attention. This time of year, at least, Everest was like a real downer. All I saw was stuff climbers had left, ice and snow, plus way too many dead bodies.
But, well, get this. All that ice and snow sort of gave me an idea. I hear that hurricanes are caused by like warm water, right? They like feed off I or something. Well, it seems to me that if you could like drag an iceberg down and plop it into the gulf of Mexico, itÕd be like dropping an ice cube into a cup of coffee, and might like decrease the hurricanes and stuff. DonÕt worry, IÕm not going to go messing with the global climate just yet. I know better than to go off half cocked. ThereÕs like some logistics I have to work out first.
For example, I doubt even I could like carry a really big iceberg all the way from the arctic to the tropics. IÕm no physicist, but I have noticed that its not so easy to pick up huge rocks and things and toss them around. Like, well, cars are the easiest example. In the comic books, I hear superman used to pick up cars by the bumpers. I tried that once, and the bumper came off in my hand. IÕm thinking, that even if IÕm strong enough to fly while carrying an iceberg (which IÕm by no means sure of), that the thing might be too heavy to bear its own weight once I took it out of the water.
Now, I could like tow it in the water, but if I did it to slow it might melt, and if I went too fast, I might cause, um, other problems, like tidal waves and stuff. I think.. I think I need somebody smarter than me to help me try and figure out how to stop hurricanes.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
T & T follow me back home
Ted and I had a talk, and I took my punishment like a big girl. He taught me a lesson: just Ôcause IÕve got superpowers doesnÕt mean I can ignore my friends, and the fact that I misplaced my cell phone again is pretty much evidence that IÕm not up for dealing with fighting evil and all that stuff without help. I swear, Ted undressed me until I felt nakeder than I did on top of that mountain, and he did it by sheer, utterly perfect logic.
I told him, and IÕll tell you right out: if it wasnÕt for this whole superpower thing, IÕd be throwing myself at his feet and begging for him. That kind of freaked him out, and it probably wasnÕt fair of me to say, but its true, I think. Course, well, you know the flip side of its true too, even though he wouldnÕt admit it. A smart guy like Ted, he wouldnÕt spare a momentÕs thoughts on me but for my physical attributes. WeÕre sort of stuck that way, I guess. I want his brain, he wants my body, and neither one of us is gonna get what we want.
Anyways, Hurricane Ted (Thanks Brantley, I like that, even if he doesnÕt) was actually dropping in for a reason, besides the fact that I hadnÕt been answering the phone while I was in the mountains. Seems lots of my friends, Ted included, have been getting asked questions about me by two adults, who seem to bear a remarkable resemblance to Officers Tweedlee and Tweedledum.
This has got to stop. IÕm being harassed big time, and its almost like theyÕre provoking me to show them what IÕve got and stop them. And it'd probably work if I could find them right now. Hopefully, though, I'll figure out another way.
Frank Krupke was lying on the bed, barely paying any attention as his partner, Sheila Gonzales babbled. For an old broad, Sheila still looked pretty good, but she didnÕt hold a candle to Daphne, or even most of her nubile young friends. Frank and Sheila had been casing their subject for three days now, and it was seriously beginning to get to both of them, albeit a bit differently. Frank was frustrated as hell, and not just with all the hot jailbait either. His partner SheilaÕs reaction to the kids was really driving him up the wall, and he was fighting this urge to slap her just to shut her up. She was babbling incessantly, talking a mile a minute about the girl like she was some sort of threat that needed to be gotten rid of.
ÒIÕm telling you, Frank, I know what our instructions were, but this girlÕs a whole hell of a lot more than HQ thinks. SheÕs dangerous, Frank, and if we leave her alone and just put what little weÕve got in our report, who do you think is going to get the ax when it turns out we missed something really big? Us, thatÕs who? This could be our big break, Frank. IÕm serious. Are you listening, or thinking about those fake boobs again?Ó
ÒChrist, Sheila, come off it, already. We canÕt put your jealous paranoia on paper. The kidÕs pretty weird, IÕll give you that, but sheÕs not a bug or anything. IÕm guessing sheÕs human even, just, well, maybe a mutant or something. But its not our job to terminate.Ó
ÒSheÕs definitely not human, Frank, whether sheÕs a mutant or an alien, IÕm telling you that little tart is definitely something else.Ó
ÒYeah, I knowÓ Frank replied.
ÒOh shut up, FrankÓ Sheila said as she turned back to her laptop and hit a few keys. After a moment, she looked up, her eyes flashing with excitement.
ÒThe internet, Frank! We didnÕt bother with her computer. All those bugs and telephone taps, and the kidÕs probably communicating via the internet!Ó
Sheila started tapping away and I started worrying. Thanks to one of my online friends, IÕd figured out they might be in a nearby hotel, and with a little dose of superhearing and X-ray vision, IÕd been doing some surveillance of my own. But what now? I couldn't let them get to the internet, that's for sure. They'd know everything that you guys know.
I panicked and the doorknob squished, so I just pushed it open and stepped over to where Sheila was, kicking her chair away from the computer and stood there looking down on her for a moment while I tried to figure out what to say. Guess that was dumb, because she stood up and landed a punch right in my gut.
I just stared at her as she nursed her broken hand for a moment. I was pissed, and picked her up by the neck.
"You bitch!" I said. "What did I ever to do to you?"
Sheila was blabbering in pain, I'm not sure whether I was too rough on her skinny little neck or whether it was her hand, but it was pretty hard to listen to. I dropped her, and the instant I did, I felt like .. its hard to describe, but it was sort of like an electrical shock.
"Oh F-ck!" Frank cried out as I turned around and spotted him holding some little silver metal gun sort of thing pointed in my direction.
"Did you just shoot me with that, Frank?" I said, "cause it didn't feel good. I wonder what it would do to you?"
I stepped over and pulled it out of his hand and looked at it, ignoring the punch he threw at my jaw. Evidently he hit my jaw pretty squarely though, because I heard lots of bones in his hand crunch.
"Enough of that already" I said, dropping the gun and scooping up first Frank and then Sheila and setting them down on the bed before jumping up between them and placing one hand on each of their chests. With me kneeling between them, neither one was going anywhere, and I was pretty sure they couldn't hurt themselves much in that position.
"Here's the deal, guys" I said, "it'd be ridiculous easy for me to just push down and rip out your hearts." And gross too, but I wasn't going to say that. I was going for effect here. "And when you're done answering all my questions, I can still find you and do it again, pretty much anytime I want. You got that?"
They squirmed a bit and I pushed down just a bit and then let up, standing up and going into the bathroom. Sheila bolted and I beat her to the door, grabbing her by the hair and led her back to the bed.
"Will you frigging stop it?" I said. "I was looking for like Motrin or something. You guys are going to need to go to the hospital, but I want some answers, first."
"We're professionals, Daphne" Sheila spat out, "we don't need Motrin, and we don't give...."
I lost my cool and shoved her off the bed. I tried to do it gently, but she sort of flew off into the wall.
"D... Daphne..." Frank said, "ok, look, I'll answer any questions you've got" Frank said, placing his hand on my leg and tugging at my jeans.
"Thank goodness" I said. "You got diet cokes in the fridge. You want one?"I asked as I stepped off the bed and opened it up.
Frank started to talk.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Dealing with the Devil?
I feel really bad about the way I treated Frank and even Sheila, although a lot less so for her. That Sheila woman is like a major pain in the neck. But I couldn't let them rat me out, even though I was inclined to believe they didn't expect that it would really cause me and my family any trouble, at least immediately. Honest, even though I was pretty PO'ed at them, I tried to be nice. I even drove them down to the hospital once we'd finished talking.
Turns out, if you believe them, that they're sort of like the Men in Black. Only, they don't have any of those little memory things and I don't think their technology is even close to like it is in the movies. But basically, they're like in charge of keeping track of, and sometimes dealing with people and things that the government doesn't want anyone to know about. Seems like there's a real problem with mutants, is what Sheila called them, although Frank called them metas, who seem to live in and among everybody else. Plus, there's apparently some other nasties that they think don't come from earth at all, and the Department tries to keep track of them and occasionally, although they didn't want to tell me about it, they capture them or "terminate" them.
"This is a problem" was my response, and I went on to tell them that I didn't care who was behind it all, I just wanted to be left alone. Sheila said ok, but Frank was smarter and went on to explain to me that even if they did lie to HQ, sooner or later, somebody else would come out. Upshot of it all is, I'm going to cooperate with them, I think, as long as they play nice. Frank's gonna try and get me an appointment with their CO, and he thinks I might be able to work out some kind of deal. I think it was the way that Zapper thing didnÕt bother me that got him all excited, but he pretty much implied that maybe they'd even go so far as to pay me if I helped them out sometimes and didn't rat them out, either.
That really got my attention. I still don't think I trust them much, but lets face it, I need money if I'm going to keep up this superheroine thing, and besides, I'll bet there are some scientists or something who could help me out with a costume that doesn't fall apart all the time.
The whole thing makes me queasy, but I didn't see much of any other way to handle it. I mean, I don't want to kill government agents, and there's no other way to really make sure they keep their mouths shut. Short of that, I'm going to have to cut some sort of deal, and this seems like a way to start it, anyway. I know, they could be the bad guys, but how in the heck am I supposed to tell? And even if they are, what am I going to do?
I just hope I'm doing the right thing. Sometimes I think that having superpowers is like crippling or something. I mean, so many things come so incredibly easy, that maybe I'm never gonna develop real skills at doing the hard stuff.
Friday, July 28, 2006
I am SO ready for summer vacation to be over its not even funny. Sorry if its not super type stuff, but I got a Òreal lifeÓ too, and thatÕs whatÕs on my mind today as I realize IÕve only got like two weeks left before I start my Senior year. Yup, IÕm going to be one of the Òbig girls on campusÓ and the idea that IÕm going to have to do something after it, its just beginning to creep into my brain.
Will I go to college? Yeah, probably, on account of I actually can do some seriously wicked test scores, but its not like IÕd have a chance of getting in if I didnÕt have superpowers. Ever thought about how well you could do on the SAT if you had five or six days to take it while everyone else only had a couple of hours? Well, IÕm NOT going to admit to using my supervision to cheat, but I will tell you that I do plan on taking full advantage of my superspeed when IÕm dealing with the thing. I can tell you already though, thatÕs going to suck. Because its bad enough to stare at a question you canÕt answer for a couple of minutes, but if I put on the superspeed thing, its going to seem like hours, and IÕm going to be frigging miserable. But at least I should get in somewhere, even if its just State U.
What with all this stuff about government agents and bugging my house and all that, its kind of kept me from practicing the whole superheroine gig recently, but IÕm thinking thatÕs not always such a bad thing. Because honestly, I think that the fighting crime thing itself isnÕt going to be nearly as difficult as figuring out the rest of my life.
IÕm going to need to work on my secret identity, you know, my real life. I think, at least today, that IÕm just going to have to rework that one big time. Am I going to have a social life when I get to college? Honestly, while its super tempting to do the whole Linda Danvers, IÕm a dweeb thing, that really really works better if youÕve got brains behind the big glasses. SupergirlÕs got things I just donÕt have, like brains, long thin legs and besides, sheÕs got a whole lot more patience than I do. And IÕm not even going to talk about the advantage of having a superpowered cousin to talk to.
Me, IÕm kind of out here on my own most of the time, and while IÕve got a few girlfriends to lean on, I have to be real careful just how I lean on them, and I always have to sort of keep in mind that theyÕre not always in the best place to know what to do either. I mean, think about it, how many girls do you know my age who spend their time trying to make sure that they differentiate between a super alter ego and a normal one? You know I wear makeup to school to try to cover up my perfect complexion? How many girls do you know who do that? And you think most girls are sympathetic to my plight?
Sighs. Honestly, its not fair to say that IÕm going through all this stuff all by myself, but I donÕt have many girlfriends I can trust, and guysÉ jeez, theyÕve got just like no clue most of the time. ThatÕs a good thing, I guess for them, but it does kind of eliminate most of them from being my substitute brain.
What I think IÕm going to try, in college, and maybe even in small baby steps, is to try to let a little more of the natural me into my everyday self, and sort of see how it goes. I mean, IÕm always me right? IÕm never going to be an intellectual or head of the class, but does that mean I have to keep my mouth shut and hide in the back all the time? Lots of girls donÕt, and some of them are maybe even slower than I am. Guys donÕt look down on girls when theyÕre looking down their shirts, and they seem willing to forgive all sorts of sins in a girl who looks good and smiles a lot.
Me, while I personally have issues with the way I look, know pretty well that guys usually donÕt. IÕd kill for creamy white skin instead of perpetual tanned look, for long legs and a less in your face chest, but if thatÕs the hand IÕm dealt, well, thereÕs no disputing that lots of guys like it. And I can smile, honestly, I just have been trying not to do it that much. But maybe just a few more grins here and there, and I can like feel more normal, you know?
Anyways, that's my plan "de jure [sic]", to loosen up the normal Daphne just a tad, maybe to make being normal a little more normal. And today, I'm going to go shopping for a few things to help me do just that.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
I screwed up
No, I'm not talking about losing my clothes or my cell phone or my keys, although I did pretty screw up a really nice t-shirt. Nope, this time I really messed up, and on top of that, I'm in a little bit of pain at the moment, so I hope you'll bear with me while I tell you about it.
Tonight, I was feeling, well, bored and useless, so I went down to New Orleans to try and see if I couldn't give the National Guard a hand reeling in the crime problem down there. Let me tell you, it was really depressing seeing some of those neighborhoods like totally messed up. Other parts were pretty much ok, but, even at night, I got a feeling like the place is really not the same. Not that I'd seen it before, but I saw the news and all.
Anyways, I found myself a cute little national guard guy and talked him up, finding out like where all those shootings were and stuff, and then I went to check it out. I was there for like ten minutes or so, talking with some of the people (yeah there are like real people down there, moms and kids, and all) before I heard gunfire. I flew over a couple of blocks and got there just in time for like a firefight, I guess you call it. There were like two sets of guys shooting at each other across the street, like hiding behind cars and stuff.
I landed and disarmed two of them, but one of their buddies (I'm pretty sure he was on the same side 'cause he was so close) shot me, right in the left boob. Now, let me be right up front, it didn't bleed or anything, but it hurt like the dickens, and I got a little red mark that still stings. No biggie, really, although it didn't seem like that at the time. At the time, I was really pissed and I grabbed the guy too hard, I think. Bastard started choking on me, like I had crushed his windpipe or something.
So here I am, trying to like do a traychiometry or something on him (I saw that on ER), when two cops pull up in a silver cadillac escalade, yelling at me and stuff. Soon as the cops showed up, the fight stopped, and the guy I'd grabbed was like dying, so I grabbed one cop and told him to call an ambulance before I took the other cop by the back of his shirt and brought him over to the guy laying there. For awhile, I thought he'd make it, but when the paramedics finally made it, they said it was too late.
Man, I'm pissed at myself. Not only did I not stop the fight in time (two other guys got shot and one died), but I basically killed a guy just cause he couldn't aim straight 'cause of my boobs. I mean, I swear, if he'd shot me anywhere else, I really doubt I'd have reacted like that. I've been shot in the stomach before, and it hurt, but not like that.
Damn, you know the worst part? I'm sitting here rubbing this little red spot, and there's not a damn thing I can do about the pain except wait. None of those numbing creams do shit for me, and I took like a half dozen Ibuprofen and it didn't do diddly.
I know, I'm a frigging wimp, whining about a little bitty welt that will be good as new in a couple of hours, but I'm not used to pain. And besides, that's not what really hurts. What hurts is I messed up. Superman never accidentally kills people and neither does Wonderwoman. Heck, even Buffy doesn't accidentally stake humans, and she's almost as goofy as I am sometimes.
I feel like such a dork. I'd get drunk, only, it'd wear off so fast it wouldn't be worth it.
Damn, what a night. I want to go to bed and never wake up.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Pondering Morality, sort of
I've been thinking a whole lot about some heavy stuff since that problem down in New Orleans, and I thought I'd just work through some of it here, in case any of y0u guys have any thoughts. Some of you have already tried to help me out, but I'm afraid that sort of begs the question.
I don't think I'm going to turn myself into the New Orleans Police. Ive been thinking a lot about it, but honestly, much as I'd like to say, hey, I'm subject to the law too, I think that that would be a cop out. It'd be so easy to say, hey, I'm just a kid, and I need someone to tell me what to do and even punish me when I messed up, but seriously, who would I trust to tell me what to do an all.
Let's face it, it sounds awful, but the law wasn't designed for someone like me, and I don't think its a good idea if I used that as an excuse. Like, if I let myself be arrested and thrown in jail, what good is that gonna do? I suppose you could say I'd learn my lesson, but I don't know how much worse it could be than me staying awake thinking about the guy's family and all. Its not like I could get executed or anything. And if I'm in jail, I'm not out righting wrongs, or even practicing to do that. More people might die, and what's the point?
I'm by no means certain of my reasoning here, and there's something about all this that makes me sick to my stomach, but sometimes I think that may just be a necessary evil to having superpowers. With great power comes great responsibility, right? Well, I know I'm dodging a lot of responsiblity at the moment by not spending all my time trying to save people and all, but I don't think I can do it forever, and don't want to make it any worse.
The other thing is, if I come out now, I'm not sure how it might affect things with Tweedlee and Tweedledum's agency. I'm still waiting for a call back from them, and they might not appreciate me making the headlines and all. I think I'm just going to try and stay "stealth" for awhile.
Oh.. by the way. Some of you guys may have seen the little link to Skye and Franck on the right there. I'm going to try and meet up with her, 'cause, well, in addition to wanting to meet her (and Franck too, but I'm gonna restrain myself), I'm figuring that it might be a good thing to have someone a little bit older and more mature (she definitely seems more mature anyways) who can relate to some of my issues. I just hope she doesn't find me, like hopelessly adolescent and annoying. Wish me luck.
Friday, August 04, 2006
Dastardly Evil Munchkins are taking over my world
Its not exactly superheroine type stuff, but I had a pretty weird experience this afternoon which I sort of wanted to write about. There's a girl named Alice who lives a couple of doors down, and I babysit sometimes for her and her friends. Its no big deal because I live so close and I've known her like all her life, and for some completely unknown reason, her mom has always trusted me. Unlike some of the other girls in the neighborhood, I guess, I don't bring guys over, and its usually pretty easy, especially during the day, because they have this really cool pool. Honestly, in afternoons at their age, they'd don't really need a babysitter, but since I got my lifeguard training, it makes her mom feel better for me to be around when they swim. Alice's dad likes it too, but that's another story.
So, on a beautiful sunny day, I'm supposed to watch two twelve year old girls for a couple of hours in the afternoon by the pool. No problem. Well, in some ways, it wasn't, but in others, it was no cake walk. First off, I should tell you that Alice is really smart, and we're tight, or as tight as I think we can be, given the age difference and, um, well, my differences. So the thing is, even though I'm like "in charge", its not like I pretend I'm her mom or anything, and sometimes we talk, like about stuff that she's interested in, even though some of it was way over my head when I was her age. Her friend Janet I like too, but I hadn't quite banked on what would happen when the two of them put their heads together.
We were lying in the sun, catching rays and drinking lemonade and talking about all sorts of stuff. With those two, I generally don't say a whole lot and let them talk, and when I need to pipe in, I do. Somehow (and no, it was not me), the topic of boys came up, and a particular 14 year old who both girls seemed to agree was totally hot became the subject of their fascination. He's an nice kid, I think, and although fourteen year old boys are definitely not the sort of people I spend a lot of time with, his big sister is my age, and, given the pathetic things guys that age go through, I sort of liked him. To Alice and Janet though, he was like some sort of major stud, and the two of them were agonizing over him like you wouldn't believe.
Honestly, I was starting to fade out, watching some couple trying to join the mile high club in an airliner overhead, when out of the blue, Alice blurted out.
"Daphne, what's Rick doing right now."
I turned my head, spotted him in his room in the house next door, and without thinking, answered.
"He's watching a basketball game with some other kid."
Neither Alice nor Janet called me on my slip up, exactly, but the way they sat up and looked at me, I felt like I'd been cornered by a couple of prepubescent predators.
"Nice, Daph" Alice said grinning.
Janet, the little bitch, started it.
"You know Daphne, word out on the street is that he's got a major thing for you. And I hear that's why you don't hang with Jennifer anymore, cause he's like after you."
"What?" I said, sitting up. "That's got, like nothing to do with it."
"Course, it could be Jennifer's fed up with you, you know."
"What ?" I said sitting up. "What are you talking about?"
"Its OK, Daphne" Alice replied and then turned to Janet. "Don't pick on her Janet. She can't help it."
OK, from here on out, I'm just not going to go through the whole conversation word for word. Recounting it is humiliating for me, and honestly, I don't remember half of the specifics of what was said, because I was way out of my league, completely on the defensive and being subtly manipulated by the two of them. Even though they never said it exactly, I could tell that they knew I sometimes saw things other people couldn't, and they used that, together with my insecurities, to prep me. That last part I figured out later. I swear, its like they were softening me up, getting ready to pounce. Mostly, Janet was attacking and Alice was playing the good cop sort of thing, but really, it was way more subtle, and I swear, impossible to resist.
By the time they got to it, I was utterly and completely defenseless. They'd never quite said it, but it was like they'd made me sure they knew that I was a complete fraud, and that they could destroy me if they wanted, but that they wouldn't, because they were so nice. It galls me to just think about it, but honestly, they had me ready to do anything for them. And true to form, what they asked for, it wasn't like it was so horrible sounding or awful that I would have woken up to what they were doing. No, they just made it sound like a favor I could do for them that wouldn't do any harm, and if I did it, maybe just maybe, they'd still like me in spite of all my faults.
Little stinkers. I'm now going to spend my Saturday night babysitting not just for Janet and Alice, but for half the kids in the neighborhood. "A little pool party, and Mom and Dad said fine," they said. Only they knew damn well that the "older" guys would come if I was supposed to be the lifeguard. Older meaning older than them, but still three years younger than me. It may sound ridiculous to you, but trust me, I got superhearing and X-ray vision. I know some of what the guys in my neighborhood think about me in a swimsuit, and I even know ... well, never mind. That's gross, ok, but the point is, I'm not imagining it and I'm not some snooty conceited bitch either. NOBODY really wants that kind of attention from guys that age, but unfortunately, I'd sort of grown up with them, and there wasn't much I could do about it now.
Its not THAT big of a deal, like one Friday night, but still, I feel like I've been pimped out by two twelve year old girls. I swear, I think they think they own me.
And yeah, it gets worse. I got duped, right, manipulated by a couple of kids into luring over guys who probably didn't even know that they existed and are going to spend the whole time staring at me, when they're not . But what's really worse was, that in order to satisfy Alice's parents that it was safe, I was going to have to recruit a friend to help me.
When I told Lauren, she ripped me a new one before making me practically beg her to do it with me. And yes, when she demanded to know how I got talked into it, she made me go through it ALL. Lauren's the best friend I've got, I think, though, and she didn't rub it in too much. Still, I am sort of glad that she's going to have to sit through that thing too. And you know what, I don't think that Lauren even OWNS a one piece suit. If I'm gonna have to spend an evening getting stared at by horny fourteen year old guys who're too embarassed to get out of the water, at least I'm not going to be the only one.
Sunday, August 06, 2006
The Pool Party
You know what? Playing lifeguard for a dozen 12-14 year olds wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it might be. Granted it was boring sometimes, and I'm just not going to go into how weird it is to have X-ray vision and be looking at a pool full of mixed sex teenagers, but I've had much worse experiences.
Part of the reason is, I think because I let Lauren talk me into wearing an itsy bitsy little string bikini. When I pulled off my t-shirt, it seemed to instantly like silence the guys, and even though the guys stared even more, they kept their distance. And even after I put it back on, I guess they remembered it, because not a single guy would look me in the eye all night. Every time I even opened my mouth, Ricky would look away, for example, almost like he was scared of me. Not a bad thing when you're supposed to be, like an authority figure and you're half a foot shorter than everyone.
Don't get me wrong, Lauren got more than her share of attention too, but she's much better at dealing with it than I am. Lauren's got a killer body, and unlike mine, which, if you look really closely, doesn't exactly jive with gravity, hers moves with like this awesome natural grace when she wants it. I think she really did like playing with the kids for a little while, but not for that long, because as soon as the food was coming off the grill, she and I were pretty much enmeshed in some pretty serious catching up. Lauren had been off on vacation, and we had a lot of stuff to talk about.
All in all, it was pretty tame, honest. One guy came in with alchohol on his breath, but he behaved and no one ever needed to know that I smelled it from across the yard. And while another guy brought in a bottle of vodka, I spotted it and confiscated it pretty easily. He was so confused over how I spotted it, I think, that he didn't even argue when I took it.
After the party broke up, and Alice's folks got home, they sat down with me and talked too, which was awesome. They told me, like how much of a good example I am for her, and how they really appreciate me. I'm not sure how true it was, but it sure felt good to hear.
I was so pumped up by that, that I let Alice's father walk me home, which was a little weird. When we got to my house, he put his hand on my shoulder and, damn, I almost freaked. It sucks sometimes to have supersenses, and it didn't take X-ray vision to know that his heartbeat was racing and all, like he was getting turned on by me. But you know what, he was cool.
He said, "Daphne, I just wanted to tell you again how grateful we are that you're around. Alice is very lucky to have you and so are we. I want you to know, we think of you like another daughter."
He sort of leaned down, and I thought he was going to do something really bad, but he just kissed me on the forehead. I blabbered something about how cool that was, and how I thought of them as my family too, but words didn't really explain how good I felt about it. It was WAY better than stopping a robbery, or even saving a person from a burning building.
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
A New Guy in my Life
Ok, well maybe he's not exactly in my life, but he is in the neighborhood, and I really wish he was. Actually maybe I don't, but I wish he could be anyway, like if things were different.
Thing is, he's like way out of my reach for a couple of reasons. One, he's got to be like thirty years old, and two, he's married. Yeah, I know, its awful to be thinking about married men, but I am just thinking. His wife, the rotten bitch, is really nice too. I mean seriously, this guy is gorgeous and nice and everybody loves him. Even my mom said he's cute, and she's pretty picky.
Its kind of funny, how when a new guy moves into the neighborhood, especially during the summer time, the girls start popping out of the woodwork. I saw him first, and I kept my cool, but like by the end of the day when they were moving in, Bitsy and Betsy, they're twin cheerleaders who live a couple of houses down, just happened to come by with a housewarming present.
I hope he saw through those twits, but unfortunately, he may not have. His car was sparkling clean this afternoon, which is a little suspicious since the cheerleaders carwash happened to be today. This is arousing my suspicions. I'm thinking that it just may be that John the Hunk and his innocent wife may be getting taken in by the evil pom pom twins. It could even be a job for the Babe of Bronze.
I may be overreacting, but just to be on the safe side, I've been keeping an extra eye on him with my X-ray vision every once in a while. And, if I can think of a decent excuse, I might even go over and see if there's any subtle signs of brain damage or something. I mean, somebody's got to look out for helpless good looking guys and save them from vicious teenage vixens, right? I'm seriously doing good here, right?
And so she was. Perhaps she still isÉ somewhere. We can check every once in a while, I suppose, at Superdaph Blog