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 “real life” too, and that’s what’s on my mind today as I realize I’ve only got like two weeks left before I start my Senior year. Yup, I’m going to be one of the “big girls on campus” and the idea that I’m 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 I’d have a chance of getting in if I didn’t 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, I’m 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 I’m dealing with the thing. I can tell you already though, that’s going to suck. Because its bad enough to stare at a question you can’t answer for a couple of minutes, but if I put on the superspeed thing, its going to seem like hours, and I’m 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 I’m thinking that’s not always such a bad thing. Because honestly, I think that the fighting crime thing itself isn’t going to be nearly as difficult as figuring out the rest of my life.

I’m going to need to work on my secret identity, you know, my real life. I think, at least today, that I’m 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, I’m a dweeb thing, that really really works better if you’ve got brains behind the big glasses. Supergirl’s got things I just don’t have, like brains, long thin legs and besides, she’s got a whole lot more patience than I do. And I’m not even going to talk about the advantage of having a superpowered cousin to talk to.

Me, I’m kind of out here on my own most of the time, and while I’ve 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 they’re 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 I’m going through all this stuff all by myself, but I don’t have many girlfriends I can trust, and guys… jeez, they’ve got just like no clue most of the time. That’s a good thing, I guess for them, but it does kind of eliminate most of them from being my substitute brain.

What I think I’m 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, I’m always me right? I’m 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 don’t, and some of them are maybe even slower than I am. Guys don’t look down on girls when they’re 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 don’t. I’d kill for creamy white skin instead of perpetual tanned look, for long legs and a less in your face chest, but if that’s the hand I’m dealt, well, there’s 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.

Daphne

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 didn’t 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.

Daph

Rendezvous at the Super 5 Motel

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 didn’t 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 Sheila’s 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.

“I’m telling you, Frank, I know what our instructions were, but this girl’s a whole hell of a lot more than HQ thinks. She’s dangerous, Frank, and if we leave her alone and just put what little we’ve got in our report, who do you think is going to get the ax when it turns out we missed something really big? Us, that’s who? This could be our big break, Frank. I’m serious. Are you listening, or thinking about those fake boobs again?”

“Christ, Sheila, come off it, already. We can’t put your jealous paranoia on paper. The kid’s pretty weird, I’ll give you that, but she’s not a bug or anything. I’m guessing she’s human even, just, well, maybe a mutant or something. But its not our job to terminate.”

“She’s definitely not human, Frank, whether she’s a mutant or an alien, I’m telling you that little tart is definitely something else.”

“Yeah, I know” Frank replied.

“Oh shut up, Frank” 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.

“The internet, Frank! We didn’t bother with her computer. All those bugs and telephone taps, and the kid’s probably communicating via the internet!”

Sheila started tapping away and I started worrying. Thanks to one of my online friends, I’d figured out they might be in a nearby hotel, and with a little dose of superhearing and X-ray vision, I’d 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.

T & T follow me back home

Ok,

Ted and I had a talk, and I took my punishment like a big girl. He taught me a lesson: just ‘cause I’ve got superpowers doesn’t mean I can ignore my friends, and the fact that I misplaced my cell phone again is pretty much evidence that I’m 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 I’ll tell you right out: if it wasn’t for this whole superpower thing, I’d be throwing myself at his feet and begging for him. That kind of freaked him out, and it probably wasn’t fair of me to say, but its true, I think. Course, well, you know the flip side of its true too, even though he wouldn’t admit it. A smart guy like Ted, he wouldn’t spare a moment’s thoughts on me but for my physical attributes. We’re 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 doesn’t) was actually dropping in for a reason, besides the fact that I hadn’t 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. I’m being harassed big time, and its almost like they’re provoking me to show them what I’ve got and stop them. And it'd probably work if I could find them right now. Hopefully, though, I'll figure out another way.

Daph

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 didn’t kill me, the wind was freezing and the air was really thin. I’d 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 isn’t 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 wasn’t 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, it’d be like dropping an ice cube into a cup of coffee, and might like decrease the hurricanes and stuff. Don’t worry, I’m not going to go messing with the global climate just yet. I know better than to go off half cocked. There’s 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. I’m 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. I’m thinking, that even if I’m strong enough to fly while carrying an iceberg (which I’m 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.

Any volunteers?

D

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 you’re wondering I’m 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 there’s always something bad happening way up high in the Himalayas, and since I hear helicopters have a tough time rescuing people at those altitudes, I’ll see how I do. Course, I’m not exactly close to any really high mountains, and I don’t have anything close to a proper wardrobe, so I’m going to have to wing it.

First off, if I want to fly to Nepal and back in a day, it’s a sad fact of life that I’m not going to be able to wear anything while I’m doing it. Maybe somebody’s got fabric that will hold up to those speeds, but I don’t and I probably couldn’t afford it. So basically, I’m going to do the whole flying in the buff thing, and try to pack up something climate appropriate in an old steel suitcase dad’s got lying around to change into once I get there. Cold weather doesn’t like make me sick or anything, but its not like I enjoy getting ice all over my naked body, so I figured I’d 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, I’m a little less likely to freak them out. And don’t want to make any abominable snowmen too horny.

Next problem, I guess is directions. Seems like if I fly either due east or west, I’ll get in the general vicinity, but after I spot the Himalayas, how am I going to know where I am. They don’t put up road signs up there, you know, and finding, say the little flags on top of Everest isn’t all that easy. I want one of those cell phones with a GPS, but they’re sort of pricey, so I’m 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 I’ll get to Everest. Wish me luck.

D.

Back Home

I’m 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 doesn’t have a bad back and can do the heavy lifting without breaking a sweat?

Yeah, that’s right. Me. Little tiny me, delicate flower that I am, got stuck with unloading and then spreading topsoil, mulch and … get this, I even had to lay the dadgumned sod. Sure, the heat doesn’t 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 hadn’t 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, I’m super-unappreciated.

I’ve been gone for a week and you’d 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 I’m stuck here, wondering if I’d 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, I’m not that much of a ditz.

I got a list, honest. Microwave doesn’t 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 doesn’t 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, that’s what counts. I’m in just a nasty mood, about this that and everything. So nasty in fact, that I’m 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.

Daph

Typing away in the car

Well, you’re 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, it’s a bitch to carry luggage that way, and besides, explaining just how I got home would sort of be a pain in the neck.

I’m 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. There’s that cop I met on the beach, too. Been thinking about him a lot, or maybe not just him but cops in general. I’ve always thought of them as mostly a pain in the neck as far as I’m concerned, but now I’m 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 there’s 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 that’s 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 “real life” I’m a klutz and a loser, and the cartoonish figure and face I’ve got only make things worse, not better. But in “my other real life” I’m likely totally f-ing invincible. Certainly, I haven’t met anything I can’t deal with, and my guess is I’m not likely to from a physical perspective. I still have to work on the technique and strategy stuff, but the only way I’m going to improve is with practice, so that’s what I’m going to do.

Yay!!!! We’re pulling over for gas. I’ll check in later.

Daph

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 life…."

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.

Daph

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 don’t spend a whole lot of time shopping, but Traci’s another story entirely. Her dad’s real generous, and she’s 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 wasn’t 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.

“Nice ass, Daphne” she said, “but if its all the same to you, I’d rather be looking at your face while we talk.”

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 don’t 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 she’d 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, I’m 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 don’t really know what cops dress like, but she definitely was on some kind of a budget.

“Officer … Gonzales?” I said, pulling briefly on the front of my shorts as I squinted at her in the sun.

“Yes, Daphne” she said, “that’s my name, although if you like, you can call me Sheila.” She smiled, and there was something really freaky about it.

“Uh, ok…” I said, “um, what can I do for you?”

Sheila smiled again, making me even more nervous and tugged at her hair before she answered.

“Not a thing, Daphne” she said still smiling. “I just came by to… forgive me, because, well, I don’t normally do this, but I came by to apologize for the way we questioned you yesterday. It’s a really strange case, and … well, I guess we were a bit uptight.”

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 didn’t feel like it.

“Ok, I mean, its not like you arrested me or anything. No big deal.”

“Of course not, Daphne” she said, “we’d never arrest you for rescuing a stranded child. No matter how strange the circumstances. You know, I’ve got a niece your age. You sort of remind me of her, the way you talk.”

“I do?” I said trying to sound innocent. This was definitely weird the way this was going.

“Yes, you do, Daphne, and that’s a compliment. Most girls your age, well, they’re really stuck up on superficial stuff, but, well, I have a feeling you’ve got depth, Daphne, like there’s more to you than meets the eye.”

Ok, now I knew something freaky was going on, and I squirmed a bit, not sure what to say to that.

“We want to make it up to you Daphne, Frank and I. How about we take you and your little friend to dinner?”

“Dinner?” I said incredulously. “Like, why?”

“Daphne” Sheila said smiling. “Stop being so suspicious. I’ll lay it out for you. Frank’s 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?”

“I .. um…” I blurted out. But she cut me off.

“Talk to your friend, Daphne, and if you want, you can bring her brother along too. I’m coming by this way this afternoon anyway, so its no big deal.”

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 can’t 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 that’s where the sound was coming from.

I’m no dummy. I knew it was a bug, and I’d been forced to sit through enough spy movies to know that squishing it would only let them know I was onto them. So, I’d 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 don’t 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.

Drat…, here comes Traci. I’m gonna write later. Maybe I’ll fly back home and get some help later, but until then, I’m gonna have to wing it.

Daph

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 Krupke’s business card for a long time. Should I call him? The guy was looking for information on the kid, not on the two men who’d 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 you’re 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 hadn’t just packaged up the bad guys earlier in the evening. I know why I didn’t 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 didn’t tell me jack-shit about how to handle the situation. If I’d 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 o’clock 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 hadn’t been, I’d 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 there’s no one else around. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no super-seductress or anything, and honestly, I’m 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 don’t, 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 “anonymous tip,” and even if I couldn’t 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....."

I shrugged.

"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.

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 Traci’s 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. I’m sort of used to that, and when it gets bad I just tend to shut up and back away, but Traci’s a bit more socially adept, and she wasn’t 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.

“So where was it you said you were from?” Traci asked even as the guy realized what was in front of him and started staring down my shirt.

“Virginia” 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.

“You are beautiful” 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. He’d pulled me to the side and had his hand on my back when Miss Virginia’s voice suddenly broke the spell.

“Jonny!” she called out, “you get your mitts off that girl now, or else.”

Jonny did, and he was led off by his mistress, even as Traci grinned at me.

“Nice work, Daph” she said laughing. “That bitch got shown exactly what she needed to.”

“Wha?” I said frowning. “Now, I mean, suppose I….”

“Object to my pimping you out?” Traci replied smiling.

I frowned again, and then shook my head, laughing.

“Ok, I guess….”

“No harm no foul, Daph” Traci said smiling. “Come on, lets get a drink before you remember to button your blouse.”

I did just that, and even as Traci led me over to the table where the drinks were it didn’t take superhearing to hear the girl’s 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 Virginia’s voice struck out then, just as I was about to take off after them.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she said. “You… did you have anything to do with this?”

Stifling the urge to give chase, I contented myself with memorizing the license number before turning back to the nasty girl.

“No, I.. I just heard you scream” I said even as Jonny moaned on the ground. He’d been hit hard on the head.

“Stupid dumb jerk. What do you think you were doing …” 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.

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 wasn’t sure what in the heck I had possibly done. It wasn’t 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.

“I’m really sorry for all this, Miss Orgone” said Officer Krupke (yeah he had a name and I’d even use it once he started treating me like a human being), “but the kid you’ve found is really a mystery and we’re going to get the same sort of grilling you just got when we file our reports.”

“Huh?” I said, displaying my masterful command of the English language.

“The kid looks exactly like the picture we have of him….” piped in Officer Gonzales, “only, well, there’s no way he can.”

I shook my head, plainly unable to understand.

“Freddy Masters disappeared on this beach twenty years ago, Daphne” Officer Gonzales said.

I still didn’t get it, and she gave me a miserable look as she slammed her fingers on the table.

“The kid looks exactly the same, Daphne. Same age, and he’s wearing the same swimsuit his parents reported him missing in twenty years ago.”

“Um.. um….” I said, confused and more than a little worried that I was missing something. I’m not that stupid not to realize this didn’t explain why they were explaining things to me. I’ve seen Law and Order, and the cops don’t explain all the details to the witnesses.

“Are you aware Ms. Orgone, that this beach is under satellite surveillance.”

I cringed at that one, and Officer Gonzales went right on talking.

“You swam out there pretty damn fast, Daphne” she said.

I swallowed hard. At least I hadn’t flown, once I’d spotted the kid, I just kind of swam after him, but I probably did cover some pretty serious territory pretty quickly.

“It’s a time lapse thing, Daphne” said Officer Krupke, “we got a pic of you entering the water, and three seconds later, you were out by the kid, a distance of… say 300 yards….”

Ok, now I was worried, and I protested as honestly as I could.

“I.. mmm I mean I can swim pretty fast, but there must be some kind of mistake…” I protested.

“Obviously” said Officer Gonzales, “but given the weirdness of this case, having a hole in your story this big is problematic.”

“My story?” I blurted out, “but I was just trying to help….”

“You said you saw the kid from the balcony up here, right Daphne?” said Officer Gonzales, grinning like a spider about to chow down on a fly.

“Um.. I think so….” I said uncertainly.

“Give it a break, Sheila” said Officer Krupke as he reached out and touched my hand.

“Its ok, Daphne. You can tell us the truth.”

“B…b..ut… I am” 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?

“Stop your sniveling” spat Tweedledee, “we’re not going to arrest you, but…..”

“We are going to be watching you” 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 I’d always figured might take a superheroine to help deal with. Only, well, just how was I supposed to do that.

I’ve been chewing on this for like an hour now, and I guess I’d better let it rest. Traci wants me down at the beach again. I’ll write more later, when I figure some more out.


.

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.

Daph