It's ELECTRIC, Boogey-woogey-woogey-woogey...

For about a month now I've noticed that I'm a super conductor. Okay, it's only when I'm in my office, but it's just me--not Denise, not Steve, not visitors to AH 307C--just me.

I have these two massive file cabinets where I keep all of my GA work and some of my not-so-GA-work and I have to access said cabinets almost every day. From the time it takes me to shuffle the 12 to 15 inches from my chair to the cabinets, I somehow produce enough static electricity for a painful, super-charged interaction between flesh and metal. Sometimes I feel the shock before I even touch the cabinet; a thin but potent stream of current actually bridges across space and time. Sometimes an audible "pop" can be heard; Josh has compared it to the sound of Fun Snaps, those tiny white balls you throw on the ground for an equally tiny explosion and popping sound. Sometimes I have so much electricity stored in my body that one touch of the cabinet will not be sufficient enough to release all of it, so I will be shocked multiple times in a row.

I don't know where I acquired the following bit of information (either television, an article, or from my mother's vast knowledge of precautionary measures) but I've heard that one should always touch the metal on their car after they get out (especially if one has cloth seats) before filling their gas tank to release any possible charge because even a small shock can cause a spark and ignite the gasoline. Since I'm mildly OCD (like many other people in the 21st century) and a product of my mother's, well, general cautiouness, I admit that ever since I got that information I have been touching the side of my car (even though I do not, in fact, have cloth seats) before filling my gas tank. Now, aware of my super-conductor-ishness, I put both hands on the car before fueling up. I know that the only place I seem to be afflicted is in my office, but soon, I might start wearing rubber gloves to the gas station...just in case.

Tonight while I was flipping through the channels on TV, I stopped on an image of a young Asian child with spoons and ash trays that were sticking to his bare chest. The child was standing straight up, his father was placing metallic items on him, and the commentator was explaining that the child seemed to be magnetic. Then it showed the father placing a 6-pound iron on his own chest and resting both of his hands at his side while the iron stayed firmly in place. The father said he first noticed his ability in the army when a friend placed a spoon on his forehead and it stayed there...for hours. Apparently his other son was also "magnetic." A researcher explained that the family was tested and there was no evidence of a magnetic field around or within them. They were an anomaly: no scientific or medical explanation.

As is my office. Or, more accuratley, the effect my office has on my electrical make-up. If this happened to anyone else while in my office, I wouldn't be so intrigued, just pissed-off, instead of what I am now: intrigued and pissed-off. I've tried different shoes. I've tried no shoes. I've tried fully picking up my feet to eliminate any static build-up. Still shocked. I need to de-ionize somehow. But, if I can't figure out how to do that, and if I have enough time between now and the end of next semester, I will try to harness the power, develop the skills to fire electric shocks at will, sew together a superhero outfit and dub myself "Conductress," form an alliance with the MAB (Magnetic Asian Boys) and use my newly acquired and honed superpowers to kill the president.

Movies that I have recently re-viewed and even though I liked them the first time, I just realized how effing awesome they are:

Kill Bill, Volumes I and II
Adaptation
Elf
Apocalypse Now