““How Superheroes Make Money: - Spider-Man knits sweaters. - Superman screw the lids on pickle jars. - Iron Man, as you would suspect, just irons.” ”

— Jim Benton, Okay, So Maybe I Do Have Superpowers

Yesterday I was incredibly humbled (and pretty chuffed) to be named Team Fox Australia and Shake It Up's Hero of the Week. There are two reasons I mention this; one, I am supremely egotistical (actually, it's so you go to the website and donate lots of money) - and two - it made me think a lot last night. Admittedly my thinking was slightly blurry as I was having a bit of a bad evening, and therefore muscle relaxants were involved... but still. I won't be the first to write with some mind altering substances under my belt.

So last night's thinking.

I am a complete geek. And a big kid. I recognise this. I embrace it. I happily admit to liking Lego, Dr Who, Matchbox cars, have heinous taste in music and movies, love any techno gadgetry I can find... and oh yes.

I have a thing for superheroes. And Asterix, but that's possibly a different discussion. Perhaps one could even count Dr Who as a superhero, but again, big, big discussion and it makes me think of David Tennant and I get off topic.

Sigh. Where was I? Oh yes, superheroes.

I have never understood, I admit, how Diana Prince just had to undo her hair and turn around really fast to become Wonder Woman. Maybe the dudes were distracted by her golden lasso? Smirk. It's like Clark Kent - a pair of black rimmed glasses is a truly craptacular way to hide your secret identity. Yes, people are a bit on the thicky side sometimes, but seriously...

Batman on the other hand - how the hell would you know who was under that rubber blankie? Kudos to you Bruce Wayne on actually wearing something which could be considered under the definition of an actual 'disguise'.

What is fantastic - and fascinating - to me about superheroes in general though is not just their super powers. It's the whole 'put the public good before myself' mentality. It's something we all aspire to and the reason we love the Justice League et al is because these men and women go out and do what we can only dream of. Who wouldn't want an invisible jet to fly around and fight crime in? I'd certainly like to be able to leap tall buildings in a single bound - usually when there's really bad traffic admittedly - and as for the Bat Cave... oh yes. Yes, yes, yes.

Superheroes are the side of ourselves which most people only think about showing, before rolling over and hitting snooze. It's much easier to do imaginary good when you're warm and comfy under the doona than it is to get up and cracking and actively volunteer to help people out.

I am as guilty of this as the next person (unless the next person happened to be Batman. And I wouldn't know it was him, BECAUSE HE WEARS A PROPER DISGUISE). But I am attempting to change this. Yes, it is mostly through self-interest, but so what? I have Parkinson's. I want a cure. So I am getting off my butt and doing as much as I can to help raise money to find out what the hell is wrong with my brain.

And the reason this is a gratitude post?

Because so many of the people I care about support me not only with moral fortitude, but they are actively trying to raise awareness and cash too. How can I not be grateful to these everyday superheroes?

Without sounding preachy, if you care about a cause, don't just talk about it.

Get up, get dressed, put those underpants on the outside of your tights and get ready to be faster than a locomotive. Because everyone has superhero potential.

You just need to learn to fly.

Or own a Tardis. Oh David Tennant...

“CATWOMAN:

[off screen] If you pick the right door, I’m yours, Batman. If you pick the wrong door, you’re mine. So which is it, Batman? The lady or the tiger?”

Last night I went to a costume party. There is a bit of a saga attached to this, so bear with me for a moment.

I have a love/hate relationship with said affairs. This started as a child, when my natural shyness battled with my mother's amazing creative talents - I wanted everyone to see my incredibly cool costumes, but I didn't want them to see me.

Being the legendary woman that she is, Mama solved this by making outfits which hid me completely from view. For example, Frosty the Snowman (with me inside sheets filled with stuffing); a Christmas Tree (complete with copper wiring frame, soldered by my father) - these were worthy of consecutive Oscars for Best Costume Design, 1977-78.

And the same thing has continued - sort of. Love the dress ups, panic about being looked at, but invariably wear something which means everyone will look at me because what's the point in going to a costume party if you don't make an effort? Hence past efforts of flappers, very, very dark angels, the inevitable 80s redux and others which I am a little scared of in retrospect.

And so.

We come to last night.

I was going as a naughty fairy.

The naughty fairy costume was too big. Said fairy would possibly have fallen out of her fairy tutu, which would have been entertaining, but not really a look which I feel needs promoting by myself when there are iPhones around.

Thus - the Return of Catwoman ('The Dark Knight Rises' style).

Walking down the street to the party in a skin tight catsuit, with thigh high boot thingies, cat ears and a mask on, I did think to myself 'what the HELL am I doing?'; but considering I was in the company of someone dressed in a pale blue safari suit, with the most horrendous wig and chalk-white false teeth, and another individual frocked up like a schoolgirl fantasy from SuckerPunch - meh. What the hell.

Then we reached the door. Rang the buzzer.

'Hey, it's CATWOMAN!' I heard over the intercom.

And the childhood nausea rose up in my throat. People were going to stare.

Well, of course they were. I am a five foot ten redhead wearing a bloody skin tight catsuit. Roll eyes.

And then something kicked in. It was an unfamiliar feeling, but I think I had felt a nudge of it once or twice in my life. You may have experienced it yourself.

Self-confidence.

Maybe it was the Sisterhood of Catwoman herself. Julie Newmar, and Lee Meriwether, and Eartha Kitt, and Michelle Pfeiffer, and Halle Berry - and yes, Anne Hathaway - all throwing their collective purr power behind me. Whatever it was, it worked. I had a great night, I felt amazing - and yes, the compliments were, well, complimentary (mind you, once we were out at a public venue, some were on the slightly disturbing side, but take the good with the bad I say).

Women of the world, unleash your inner Catwoman. You don't need the whole outfit either to make it happen. It is all about attitude.

Although the mask is fun.

Purr.