Time to write!



This isn't your typical story, where the girl somehow gets transported back in time, feels helpless for awhile, makes a whole bunch of social mistakes, makes a friend with a high class lady, and falls in love with the nineteenth century hunk. Those girls go back in time and immediately start worrying about how they're going to get home again. Those girls try to blend in, to be a part of the system until they can somehow return. Those girls meet some Mr. Darcy or a knight in shining armor and realize they never want to leave. Then those girls are inevitably just as swiftly transported back into their own time, where they meet a modern day parallel of their man. This aspect even more than time travel disproves these stories entirely.

But you see, this is my story. This isn't one of those teeny-bopper feel good stories that makes you laugh and makes you cry and wish that YOU TOO could go back in time so that next week the love of your life will approach you in high school, complete with Mr. Rochester mannerisms, and an innate tendency to wear boots without looking gay.

This is my story, and I'm not one of those girls. Because when I went back in time, I realized I had so much the advantage. I had history and the developments of the future on my side, and I realized I didn't have to blend in. I could change the world. Heck. Forget changing the world. I could rule it.
***
Before you go off and label me as inherently evil, I guess I should pin the blame on someone else, and say this all boils down to my love for old Marvel comics. In the comic books you have two kinds of characters. You have those who try to blend in despite having incredible powers, and therefore cover their faces whenever they're fighting. They're big into secret identities and have weird rules about only ever putting the villains in jail, or allowing the villains to do something dumb that leads to their ultimate demise. Then there are the characters who are like "Yo. I'm here. Deal with it." Ironman definitely falls into this category, but my favorite example here is Loki.

When Thor falls to earth he finds normal clothes and learns how to function in society. Then Loki comes down. Bam. Completely unapologetic, green cape, random gold horned helmet, the works. And I say good for you, man.

If there's one thing Junior year taught me, it's that being ashamed of who you are or trying to be someone else isn't going to make you any more popular or suddenly help you have friends.

If there are two things Junior year taught me, the other would be that justice in this world really is only a mere concept, an ideal we can aspire to, but something we'll never fully reach. Bad things happen to good people and nothing actually fixes it. Sure, in stories it happens. In movies. In the heads of all delusional girls.

Many people, too many people, go home from school and tell themselves that tomorrow will be a better day. Tomorrow is the day for making friends. Tomorrow is when that guy will finally notice that those other girls aren't as nice or as smart.

It's a pretty idea, really it is, but its naive.

So after Junior year I decided it was over. I'm not going to be Peter Parker anymore. I'm going to be Tony Stark. I'm going to reveal my face and say "What the heck. Yep. I'm Ironman." Except I'm not really Ironman, but the imagery remains. I'm going to march in wearing that awkward Loki helmet like it's the coolest piece of armory ever conceived and I'm going to own it.

This was my philosophy going into Senior year, but when I suddenly found myself in nineteenth century London, the same concept applied.

There I was, wearing black skinny jeans and black leather boots, a yellow and red t shirt and a black leather jacket and instead of darting off to the nearest clothing shop where I could trade my foreign garments for a petticoat and bloomers, I put on my sunglasses and smiled.

Because this was my Loki moment.

I was Tyra Rizmont, and I was going to take over the world.