I had a migraine this week.
For those of you who have had migraines, you understand exactly what that means. For those of you that haven’t, imagine a claustrophobic dwarf living inside your skull who suddenly, and forcibly, realizes he wants out, so he sets to work creating an exit through your frontal lobe. The only tools he is afforded for this task are a jackhammer and an icepick. And he has excellent upper body strength.
Different people tend to have different sorts of symptoms with their migraines. Some get blurred or kaleidoscopic vision, some have extreme sensitivity to light and sound, some get fatigued or even nauseous. Myself, I get blurred vision, some nausea/fatigue, and scent sensitivity. It sounds bizarre, I know. I usually have a fairly decent sniffer, but the instant a migraine starts weeviling its way into my brain my olfactory receptors go into red alert, and even slight smells become a tsunami of unbearable odor.
It’s like….it’s like an incredibly crappy superpower. Can’t identify that scent in your fridge? BAM. I’M THERE. Need somebody to okay your garish perfume? POW. GOTCHA COVERED. I could get a cape and join the police force or something.
A cape and tights.
Every reasonable superhero has tights. Even the male Wonder Twin had tights, and if I am anything, I am cooler than Zan from planet Exxor. So if I were a superhero (or, you know, a twenty-one year old cartoon junkie and soon-to-be college graduate) these are the sorts of tights I would wear to bust heads and save orphans.
Those last ones aren’t technically tights, but they are adorable, and I would still fight crime in them. Although the idea of stopping robbers with bows on my knees does make me cringe, but possibly it would just add a layer of insult to the lawbreaker? “Dude, I don’t even know what HAPPENED! We were in the getaway car and then all of a sudden it was just brown satin and then my nose was broken. Every time I see bows now I pee a little out of reflex.”
Yeah. That’s my great ambition.
For my great love of tights, I should note that I only own a few pair, and I rarely wear them. I love them in theory, but wearing tights requires not wearing jeans, and that is a sacrifice that I am rarely prepared to make, partially because wearing tights makes people look at you. One of my goals upon graduating college is to grow a pair and start dressing like a woman. Somehow, making a fashion statement is more terrifying than any bank heist.
Oog. My brain dwarf is getting restless. I am going to go take a preemptive pill.