Sometimes I feel like a speedbump in other people's lives, one of those secondary characters who just makes a short appearance in the movie to fill in a gap, like that girl that the hero is unhappily dating before he meets the heroine (re: every romantic comedy ever made - except Addicted to Love, which is delightfully screwy).
Then again, to the cats, I'm like Batman's butler, Alfred. Trusty ol' Alfred, who feeds them twice a day, fills their water bowl and their dry food bowl, and (of course) cleans their potty. (Actually, as a tangent, I've been meaning to describe how utterly freakin' cute it is when the cats are lying next to me and they reach out one paw to apparently keep physical contact with me. It's adorable.)
And, during family gatherings, I'm the comedy relief. Like Jar Jar Binks. Ok, not Jar Jar. How about Mr. Collins? Mmmm... closer, but still not flattering. Ah, I know -- Barf the Mog or The Waco Kid.
I guess I'm a lot of different characters to different people. I don't really think of myself as the hero of my own story though. And if I were, it'd be something like Pee Wee's Big Adventure. I'm searching for something, I just don't know where it is. Plus, it's got the right mix of drive and absurdity. Even Pee Wee didn't get to be the hero of his own movie. I guess I should start practicing, "Mr. Herman. Mr. Herman. You have a telephone call at the front desk."
Who do I aspire to be? Well, Laura Croft wouldn't be too shabby.
How will it all turn out? I have no idea. Tune in next week, same bat-time, same bat-channel!