Days till LA: 6
Before I explain, let me tell you a little bit of back story: I used to be strong. Sort of. When I was a cheerleader, I was a catcher and a thrower, which meant I caught (to be more exact, my ribcage caught) the girls that were up in the mounds when they came back down, and I was the one to throw girls up in the air for basket tosses. Upper body strength used to be my calling card, so to speak. And then somewhere along the way, I became the girl that couldn't open the jar of sauce, and needed a big strapping man to help her lift heavy boxes and such. My arms went from suitably muscled to limp strands of spaghetti (only less delicious) and all was forgotten. My abilities lay dormant.
Until now.
Recently, I've been doing some pretty bizarre things, and I don't even mean to. It's like the first half hour of a movie, in which odd things keep happening to the heroine, hinting at the fact that soon enough, she'll gain her super hero status. As for me, it's turning into the Hulk. Or Hulkette, because I think a feminine suffix is needed here, and "She Hulk" does nothing for me.
Before I explain, let me tell you a little bit of back story: I used to be strong. Sort of. When I was a cheerleader, I was a catcher and a thrower, which meant I caught (to be more exact, my ribcage caught) the girls that were up in the mounds when they came back down, and I was the one to throw girls up in the air for basket tosses. Upper body strength used to be my calling card, so to speak. And then somewhere along the way, I became the girl that couldn't open the jar of sauce, and needed a big strapping man to help her lift heavy boxes and such. My arms went from suitably muscled to limp strands of spaghetti (only less delicious) and all was forgotten. My abilities lay dormant.
Until now.
Recently, I've been doing some pretty bizarre things, and I don't even mean to. It's like the first half hour of a movie, in which odd things keep happening to the heroine, hinting at the fact that soon enough, she'll gain her super hero status. As for me, it's turning into the Hulk. Or Hulkette, because I think a feminine suffix is needed here, and "She Hulk" does nothing for me.
A few weeks ago, after a fun-filled argument with my father outside of a restaurant, I went to open the door and get out of my grandmother's car, and... ended up ripping the door handle right off the door. I mean legit, I was sitting there with the entire fucking handle in my hand, pieces of plastic just dangling right off. Sure, I'd been pissed off, but not pissed off enough to just start ripping pieces of the car off.
And it happened again, just days ago. I was using the trunk lever in my brother's car to pop it open, (it would seem I like destroying cars that don't belong to me) but when I pulled on the handle... I ripped it right off at the base, and sent it flying across the car (nearly losing an eye in the process.) And this time, I was tired, not angry!
And then just two days ago, I picked up my beloved Oscar de la Renta sunglasses... and crushed part of the frame. I crushed my favorite fucking sunglasses. And while this did enable me to finally buy a pair of aviators, c'mon, people! How did I do that??
The horrifying physical conclusionAnd I know what's going to happen next. I'll be setting off to go to the mall, like any typical young woman, and I'll reach for the door handle on my mother's car and pull the door right off the hinges. Then I'll stand there, gaping, a massive door held aloft in my right hand, and the neighbors will come out and gape and gossip and word will spread that apparently I have Hulk-like strength.
But then I'll be in town, and I'll try to help someone with their groceries, and I'll accidentally squash them or something - or, better yet, try to help them up and end up ripping their arm off - and I'll turn all green and bellow and the townspeople will fear me, and I'll become a recluse, hiding in the shadows of my house, scrubbing relentlessly at my green skin because it clashes with half my outfits.
But then? I'll become a hero.
First, I'll comically help bend a tree to get a stuck cat out of the branches, and people will reluctantly smile and make stupid animal jokes, and I'll act all bashful and kind, and soon enough people will begin to smile and wave when they pass by my house. And then I'll help a kidnapped baby by bodily picking up the kidnapper and hurling him into the distance. And then to top it all off, when an old woman is trapped in a burning building, I'll dutifully rip a wall off the building and pluck her out, setting her down on the ground. And the people will love me. Hulkette will be a beloved community figure.
Which means, of course, once some ridiculous villain (like "Ice Man" or "Poison Oak" or "Town Drunk") comes to town and starts making outrageous, slightly drunken statements about blowing buildings up, and getting their sticky little fingers on nuclear war heads and the such, the people will rally around me and beg for me to save them. And I will, of course, provided that I get a day dedicated to me, or at least some free ice cream from Riddles SuperMart.
And of course I'll grow a huge rack, and my waist will somehow shrink to 21" inches acound, and even though I should topple over, according to the laws of physics, I'll just end up being strangly, shockingly alluring, green skin and all. Which will help once I'm a part of the Justice League or whatever the fuck they call it, because then I can get with Batman or something, and if Batman looks anything like Christian Bale's version, then I'm good.
I can deal with this.
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