Tuesday, May 1, 2012

May we talk about your super powers?

Part of some hypnotic ritual, I'm sure. (x)
He may be Loki, the god of mischief, in the highly anticipated frantically-stocking-up-on-smelling-salts-just-because-he's-in-it flick, The Avengers, but we're here to inform you that Tom Hiddleston has super powers. IN REAL LIFE. As if his face isn't enough. As if his "ahehehe" laugh isn't enough. As if his coffee-flavored velvet voice isn't enough. On top of everything else, he just has to go and have superhuman abilities. Have you noticed how however he "came into your life" (for me, it was descending from a carriage in all his my-curly-locks-are-slightly-tousled-from-this-top-hat-and-arduous-journey glory), his non-presence has begun to take hold of everyday activities? So have we. Thus, we are dedicating the month of May to confessions about Hiddles. The legend. The hero. The life ruiner. The jerk.

Take, for instance, going to a bar with your girlfriends. The male population prowling around are slightly lackluster, but you will not admit defeat! After all, your favorite 90s cover band is playing! You're going to have fun tonight, dang it!

But when you find yourself stuck in a conversation you can't wait to leave, you begin to giggle. Not because you're flirting, not because anything this guy has said has been remotely interesting, but because the truth hits...
If you're honest, it's not like you were interested anyway, so you can't begrudge the all-powerful Hiddles. You tell yourself to remain amicable. But then he asks for your number.
The situation has gone from somewhat amusing to dire. You must get out of this dive bar and away from these non-eligibles ASAP! What would fictional boyfriend Hiddles think?! Unfortunately for you, your friends are having fun and convince you to stay for one more drink. So you drink until finally you hit slap happy because it's better than crying in public and say things like...
Realizing you've either hit rock bottom or officially taken the title of requisite party-pooper, you claim you can walk in a straight line and find your way home no problem. But block after block, you start feeling a mounting resentment towards Hiddles. Very unladylike things start to flash through your brain. Things like, "I hate you and your face, Hiddles!" Immediately, you repent. You aren't upset because you don't love Hiddles, you are upset because of how much you love Hiddles. You start to wonder if he can read your mind so many miles away and picture Loki's glossy eyes circa Thor, beating yourself up all the way to your front door. There is only one thing to do...
Life feels so much better. That gooey center feeling has spread throughout your entire body and you're positively buzzing with ALL CAPS INTOXICATED FEELINGS. Look at that angelic face! It's so unfair! Looks at those crinkly luminous eyes when he smiles that sharky smile! I am ruined for all other men! Listen to that purring voice! Forever alone! Finally, you must cut yourself off. It's time for bed.
And that, dear readers, is the power of the Hiddles. Hypothetically, of course... *cough*. He can turn your night upside down without so much as making an appearance (blast!)! Maybe he has powers of invisibility. Maybe he's secretly and deliberately pulling our heartstrings like a manic puppeteer across the sea. As mere mortals, we may never know. I don't know how he does it, but somehow he's saving us from conversations that aren't worth having, assuring us that our standards are worth keeping high if out of reach. It's a bird! It's a plane! It's the all-powerful, Hiddles! Our hero! And life ruiner... *le sigh*


  1. After our visit the other night, this made me laugh. So. Hard. :)

    1. Bahaha!!! Yes, I should take this moment to publicly apologize to Danielle for having to witness the lethal combination of myself + tequila + Hiddles this past weekend. I'm sorry that you had to see that/were subjected to a lecture about sexual symbolism in Victorian happenings.