My housemate has Wonder Woman pajamas.

I point this out because over the last few months my live has disolved from a central role in an extremely convoluted romantic comedy to a wacky (and possibly also Zany) sixties throwback sitcom, where two single men and two single females live in a small house in Walthamstow with a dodgy landlord and even dodgier internet connection. We have a med student, a primary school teacher, the slightly older person will a full time job and stress and such (hi, I’m Aquarion, I’m your narrator), and Sian.

Sian has Wonder Woman pajamas.

We have to take a couple of steps back at this point, because this entry hasn’t had enough digressions already, and explain that over the last six months or so, I have discovered something new to throw my limited budget at, and this is Comics. Specifically, DC comics. I’ve always liked comic-style art and storytelling, but up until recently I’ve been the type of apreciator who buys the graphic novels instead. Then I walked into my friendly local neighbourhood comics shop (who also sell online, and do subscriptions and such) and my fate was sealed. Not only did I start buying comics, they started recommending comics to me – the fiends – that I would also add to my subscription list.

Then I left Bedford, with an agreement to phone them and get them to ship everything I missed since my last visit. Which I forgot to do until last week. Last week I phoned them, and asked if they could ship me the stuff they’d been keeping on hold. So now I have a large stack of comics to read. Including the new Wonder Woman series, which I leant to Sian, because she was in danger of being productive.

And now Sian has Wonder Woman pajamas.

This manifested itself about half an hour ago, when I went downstairs on a break from doing designy stuff to get a glass of milk, and Sian – whose bedroom is next to the kitchen – leapt out in the costume. I’m not sure how they’ve done it, to be honest, but with the Wonder Woman pajamas they’ve managed to package a pose. It appears to be impossible for someone wearing them to stand without doing so hands on hips, legs slightly apart. Superhero pose. Comes with the costume.

This would be bad enough. The questions as to whether we have enough kitchen foil to make some bullet deflecting bracelets were bad enough. I deflected the theories about creating a Lasso of Truth. However.

Sian wants us all to have superhero costumes. Marta would be Super Girl. Mike can be Wolverine. Me? I got Batman, which would be cool, but I changed it to Captain America, on the basis that I’m out of canon for the time being. This doesn’t appear to have worked. I may be forced to fight crime.

Along with the rest of me.