Outer Space.... Here I Come.

For those of you who don't know, this quarter I have been forced into taking a mandatory science credit and have wisely chosen Planets (!!!) because of my undying passion for all things planet-related. That's right, I am now an official lover of planets and outer space and everything else that's not on earth. I love space so much more than most things... I even took the time to compose this brief list of things that I do not love as much as planets:

Things that I do not Love as Much as Planets

1. Dead raccoons

2. Muffins baked with shards of glass

3. Satan

You see...?!?! You see how much I love planets..?!?! They are, quite literally, my favorite things ever.

Anyway, after a couple days in said Planets class, I have come to the extraordinary conclusion that I have lived out the last 19 years of my life in a blind cloud of deceit. You see, it turns out that I am not called to be a designer as I once imagined... my calling in life -- my soul purpose for breathing -- is to become an astronaut.

In light of this realization, I have decided to look at this class as a sort of practical Astronaut-training course aimed at non-science majors who may or may not want to project themselves into space one day. The leader of our troop is Professor Woody Sullivan (beloved Sexagenarian and Planet Extraordinaire), whose single calling is to train us for the many trials we may one day face in our voyage to outer space.

Yesterday, for instance, we learned how to impersonate planets (a handy talent for all new astronauts)! That's right -- at the fervent insistence of Astronaut Sullivan, we left the comfort of our heated classroom, trooped outside, stood around (excitedly!) in the rain, and pretended to be planets while our frazzled TA arranged us in accordance to the solar system. Brilliant. This course is already paying off.... Planet Impressions are Astronaut Survival 101, after all. What could be a handier method of camouflage whilst in outer space than a convincing planet impersonation?

The rest of the course, I'm sure will be just as riveting. We already have our first homework assignment: calculate the surface area of the moon. How relevant! How practical! My world will never be the same again. I honestly do not know how I have pioneered through life so far without knowing this helpful bit of information... There are so many practical instances in my everyday life where it is pertinent that I know how to calculate a planet's surface area! Here are a few examples:

1. You have stumbled across a nerd convention by mistake, and you desperately want to impress people with your planetary know-how.

2. You are being held at gunpoint by a terrorist who is trying to blow up the moon. In an effort to be helpful, you tell him the surface area of the moon, and he is so pleased with your knowledge of the solar system that he lets you go.

3. You have entered a Surface-Area-Finding competition and the category is celestial objects.

4. You have done something terrible to embarrass yourself. Just start loudly rambling off your surface area computations, and everyone will be so impressed, that they will completely forget about the incident.

(The list could go on.....)

This class is preparing me for the real world. While other students are sitting in a bored sort of stupor, listening to mundane Earth science lectures and waiting to die, MY Professor is preparing us for something practical. My horizons have been broadened, my passion for space travel is now awakened, and my life will never be the same again.

I will shoot for the stars. Literally.

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p.s. Check out my planet impersonation.... In the following two pictures, one will be a real planet, and one will be me pretending to be a planet. Don't feel badly if you can't tell them apart. It takes a keen eye and a lot of specialized space training to decipher.

My Professor, the Sexagenarian.

My Planets professor told my class proudly this morning, while pausing from his description of Jupiter's rings, that he is an esteemed sexagenarian. He offered no explanation, continued his lecture, and seemed quite oblivious to the bewildered whisperings of his students.

Anyway, after spending the entire afternoon believing that Mr. Woody Sullivan is some sort of criminal sex offender, I finally googled the term. I am pleased to announce that sexagenarian is merely a (not-at-all suggestive) phrase referring to people who are in their 60s... What a relief.

Boredom, at its Finest.

I am just sitting on my bed, practicing my best impersonation of a half-dead slug and watching the hours slowly pass away. No need to worry yourselves, though... I'm getting very good at it. It turns out I have a knack for oozing in a useless sort of manner whilst secreting large amounts of mucus from my pores! I'm just squelching about happily like a slug who has been taught by scientists to operate a computer, lolling around on the internet and occasionally sliming on the keyboard in an attractive sort of manner. You know... The norm. Today is my last day of Christmas break after all, and I am trying to spend my free time wisely, which basically means being lazy and doing NOTHING AT ALL.

Sometimes I really do feel like I should make an effort to be more interesting, though. I would probably have more devote fans if instead of lying here pretending to be a slimy insect, I went out and fought crime on the streets or learned to speak Hebrew backwards. From this moment on, I vow to make a greater effort to be more suave and talented. I will be like one of those misunderstood poet-types with black fingernails and perfectly-combed mustaches. Only minus the mustache part, because I am actually a girl, you see. And most girls can't really grow mustaches, unless they have some sort of hormonal imbalance. And even then, they probably wax it or shave it or have it burned off with a lazar gun. But that is completely besides the point.

Anyway, as I was saying before I went off on my tangent about the joys of womanly facial hair, I am having a very boring and dull sort of day. And the worst part of the matter is that it was actually self-induced. I woke up this morning, reveling in the last sunny glow of Christmas break, with a determination to spend my final day of freedom with as much relaxation as possible. Ten zillion cups of snack-pudding later, however, I am beginning to feel very bored. I have quite literally done nothing all day long.

On a brighter note, I've made at least one great accomplishment within the last 24 hours. I have discovered that pudding tastes better if you mix it with peanut butter! I'm thinking of selling the rights of my scientific find to the National Association of Pudding Enthusiasts, as they are probably the only ones who will appreciate my genius.

Though on a second thought, doesn't everything taste better with a spoon of peanut butter (excluding ketchup and horse radish)..? Does that make my discovery somewhat less impressive..?

Crap and double crap.

... I wonder how pudding would taste mixed with ketchup and horse radish.

I should probably try it.

Anyway.. umm... I don't really remember what I was talking about, so I think I might just shut up now.

Good day.

Happy New Year!

Well.

It is only 2:19 PM of January 1st, and I have accidentally spent at least 2/3 of my new year so far pretending (quite successfully) to be a rabid grizzly bear with my not-so-normal friends... Are such things common? I'm not sure really; all I know is that I'm blessed to be gifted with a group of pals who are as mature and talented at animal impressions as I am. That is really all a girl could ask for, after all.

Anyway, all realistic grizzly bear impressions aside, I am thrilled so far with the New Year! The sun is shining... the birds are singing... I have only stepped on my deaf dog, Taffy, once so far... The year is off to an excellent start. I am really very excited for what 2011 is sure to hold. I have a lot of realistic hopes and ambitions for the next 12 months, all of which I am sure will be brought into completion in a year's time... I plan to learn how to eat fire, for starters. I am also kind of hoping to master my ability of controlling the weather with my mind, and I'd like to train myself to live forever without food or sleep. I will start working on all of these new hobbies immediately.

By the end of this year, I plan to be a sort of fire-breathing superhuman with an uncanny ability to forecast the weather. These are my resolutions, and I'm sticking to them. I'm feeling very optimistic. After all, even if all else fails, I have a very convincing grizzly bear impression that I'm sure could earn me a decent living in the circus.

2011 is bound to be chop-full of adventure...