Irrational Fear: Alien Invasion

Last night, Caleb took me on a date to see the movie "I Am Number Four." The movie is based on a book of the same name and follows one of nine super-powered aliens living on Earth; I liked it well enough not to scorn it, but not so much that I particularly want to review it. See it if you want, don't if you don't.

I bring up this hot date, not to flaunt that I've still got enough "It" to go on a mid-week date, but to say that I endured 20+ minutes of previews filled to the brim with alien invasions. And these aliens, they were not the humanesque snugglebunnies or even the tiny green, sparkly men we have come to love -- they were the large roaches with the flashy guns. After the third or fourth trailer, I turned to Caleb and said, "Just to make you completely aware of the situation: I am going to have nightmares tonight."

From there, I continued to explain that for some reason, I am terrified of any alien invasion-related media because it always brings to mind what I might do to protect my children from advanced technology and world decimation; before I had kids, I would worry about being in charge of all of my sisters, as my parents would inevitably get killed or marched into alien work camps. I do not have the survival skills or the space travel know-how of the aliens, but dang it, I've got grit. I would keep whoever was under my watch alive!

At which point, I made sure to point out to Caleb that my verve was in no way a comment on his manhood or life-saving capability.

I can't deny that there are other lifeforms out there somewhere, but I hope they land more on this side of the nice scale:

I don't be needing to look like this when mean aliens come: