Earlier today, EW revealed that the Man of Steel and a certain Amazon princess are the Justice League’s new power couple. Though Lois Lane isn’t romantically involved with Superman in DC’s “New 52” continuity, the news has still left Metropolis’s most famous reporter feeling curiously sad. Want proof? After distracting Lane with a fresh pint of ice cream — thanks for the idea, Jon Stewart — we managed to swipe a page from her very secret diary. The following entry has been reprinted without her permission. We think Lois would understand, though; sometimes, a writer’s gotta do what she’s gotta do.
As a rule, I don’t wallow. After all, I’m Lois Freakin’ Lane — Pulitzer Prize winner, Daily Planet Executive Vice President of New Media, possessor of perfect hair. I can cover superheroes fighting alien monsters in my sleep. I eat annoying interns for dinner. I am, generally, so awesome that I couldn’t find anything to wallow about even if I wanted to. But something happened today that’s given me a serious case of melancholy — even though there’s no reason it should.
While preparing myself for another late night at the office, I looked out my window and saw a strange sight: Superman, Metropolis’s golden boy, engaging in a mid-flight makeout session with some chick in a star-spangled bathing suit.
Now, I know Superman pretty well; I was on his beat before I got promoted to VP. And even though we’ve got history together, I never had feelings for the guy. Sure, his hair is almost as good as mine, and he’s got nice eyes. They would look great even behind thick lenses. But the whole “hero’s girlfriend” thing was never the life for me. I’m the protagonist of my own story, not a footnote in someone else’s.
And yet watching the Man of Steel play tonsil hockey with that statuesque woman — seriously, she’s got to be at least as tall as he is — put me in a terrible mood. I have no claim on him, especially since I’m already dating someone who could fill out a pair of tights pretty well. Still, seeing them together made me feel crummy. It’s almost as if — and I know this is going to sound weird — he and I were together in another life. Like, maybe there’s this whole alternate universe where Superman marries me, and he dies and then comes back to life, and also he keeps me trapped on a go-kart inside a plastic bubble.
Ugh. This is getting weird. Maybe I should try talking to my friend Clark; he always knows how to cheer me up.
More later — someone’s knocking at my door. Oo, and it looks like she has ice cream!