I'm an inveterate fangirl. Even as a wee little thing, my desire to be either Luke Skywalker or Darth Vader was notorious, overshadowed only by my love for Superman and Danger Mouse. (For the record, Darth eventually won out over Luke. You watch the Force Choke scene in A New Hope and tell me it doesn't look like the best thing ever. "I find your abundance of perfume disturbing.")
Anyway. A few weeks ago, I got my hair cut. The cut in question is modeled after one Gwen Cooper of Torchwood 3. Today, I got my semi-annual eye exam and bought some new frames. I'd almost settled on some elegant little square ones that made me look a little like Cameron from House (if Cameron suddenly gained 100 pounds and dyed her hair black). Wasn't quite happy with them, so I started poking through drawers.
Oh, Elvis. I found black-and-white horn-rims with square lenses.
Ladies and gentlemen, we have achieved crossover. I am, officially, the Mutant Offspring of Gwen Cooper and Noah Bennett. And my mother wonders why I write what I do. You're the one that let the siblings take me to see Star Wars when I was eight months old, Mom.