Meteor Shower Tuesday

Today was, once again, thoroughly exciting. I got up as usual, got ready to go to school as usual, and strolled out the door. It was a short hike to the shuttle stop, and although I had left slightly later than I had planned, I figured that I would be there in time to catch my shuttle before it left for school.

Yeah, that didn’t happen.

I heard the sound of rockets preparing to launch the shuttle into interstellar space, and I knew I had to sprint. I arrived at the launch pad just in time to see my shuttle leave without me.

This left me with two options: 1. Get my parents to give me a ride or 2. Try to catch my shuttle.

For the average kid who misses his bus, this choice is more difficult than it should have been for me. Catching up with a bus is easy; all it takes is some quick feet and basic knowledge of the bus’s route. Then it’s just cruising on into the bus with the other kids at the next stop.

Lucky me, I happen to go to school on a space shuttle. It would take figuring out a way to get myself out of Zircon’s gravity, obtaining a velocity greater than my shuttle without getting shredded to pieces, surviving in space without exploding, and then finding a way into my shuttle while it’s in flight.

Guess which option I took?

That’s right, I decided to try and catch my shuttle. Tuesdays are meteor shower days in my area, so the shuttle would have to take an alternate route, giving me the opportunity to take the straight path and intercept my bus, as long as I feel like launching myself into a meteor shower.

I was actually rather well equipped. My razzle shoes are equipped with built-in rockets (because I’m cool like that), and my space suit is, well, a space suit. That left me with dodging the meteors.

Fighting past hundreds of pepple to boulder sized objects traveling toward you at a velocity of 252.5 Megafurlongs per Fortnight (93600 mph) may sound easy, but believe me, it isn’t. I almost broke a nail, if you can believe it. Gosh would I have been upset. Fortunately, I made it through and had the opportunity to catch my shuttle.

Silly me, I forgot that it’s space shuttle. In space. With no handy-dandy doors, and no stops. Being the brilliant person that I am, I decided to hold onto the shuttle and pray that I didn’t die.

Well, it worked, because I survived the trip and was able to print out lab reports for Physics J, for both Lynn (her printer broke) and myself. I met up with Lynn right before class and handed her report to her, and then we both sat down. Mr. Corone gave us more time to work on homework, and this time, Lynn and I actually had the opportunity to work on it.

After physics, we had our break as usual, and then it was time for Zirconian History. Always exciting, I knew that Ms. P would certainly have something special in store for us today.

Little did I know that it was a stellar flare drill.

Like the tornado drills of planetary schools, stellar flare drills are often seen as jokes or wastes of time, by both the students and the teachers. I hate wasting time in Zirconian History, so this certainly did not make me happy. The AA (Awesome Address) system declared that we were beginning the stellar flare drill and that it was time to move to our designated safety zones. Our class moved with excellent proficiency, until we felt the floor bending underneath us. Space Station Lambda was coming apart!

Quick to act, I grabbed a few of the students around me and flung them to one side. Pulling out my calculator, I began to do a quick calculation to determine the forces acting on the station, as well as the K-Radiation class of the stellar flare.

That’s right, I was convinced that it was a real stellar flare.

After finishing the calculations, I pulled some dental floss out of my pocket and began to repair the damage done, trying to hold the hallway together long enough for the real aid to arrive. It seemed we were dealing with a K-37 flare, very dangerous, and I knew that it was up to me to save the day.

Then, suddenly, the hallway repaired itself and everything returned to normal. The AA system announced: “Thank you all for participating in our highly realistic Stellar Flare Drill. Please return to your classrooms.”

That’s right, our school had invested the time and effort to recreate the effects of a stellar flare just so that the drill would be more accurate. Crestfallen is a word that was invented for a moment like the moment after than announcement. I returned to class begrudgingly.

I saw Lynn again in English and Anticalculus, but the classes themselves were rather uneventful. I went to lunch and won a game of space chess, and then went to gym.

I tried something new in gym today.

Normally I use the tried and true space walk on Tuesdays and Thursdays, days when we are allowed to pick our excercise of choice. Lynn doesn’t like space walking. So, I decided to try something new, lifting moon rocks, with her today.

At first I was unsettled by the unfamiliar surroundings of Zircon’s 3rd moon, Heremod. However, once I got used to what was going on, I had a pretty darn good time. My favorite part was lifting 3 times as much as Lynn just because if I didn’t, I’d feel like a wimp. Fortunately, I was actually capable of doing it, so that certainly made me feel good.

After gym was band, as usual, and then home. Well, I had a meeting with our astrophysics team (we’re having a meet on Saturday), and then Lynn’s mother brought me back home from Space Station Lambda. Upon arrival at home, I updated certain things, participated in various space strategy simulations (goofing off, yes, but if I’m going to be an admiral, it’s goofing off well spent), and then homework. And then this blog. I’ll probably do more homework after this, psycliometrics is a fun unit, but pretty darn brutal too. That’s it for today, folks, I’ll post again tomorrow.