SpaceBeer.

Over the course of history Charles Dudley Warner's quote has repeatedly rung true: "Politics makes strange bedfellows." I could not agree more, dear Charlie. War times sees awkward alliances, business allows for odd mergings.. but BEER?

Oh yes, Russia and Japan have woken up next to eachother in a scene common to most young college students and it has left them mumbling, only half sober, "who the hell are you?" The Russian Academy of Science and Okayama University have teamed up with Sapporo Brewies to create the first ever SPACE BEER. With ingredients at the Internation Space Station, people who thought that the first man on the moon was impressive will now be second guessing themselves.

However, don't think you'll be finding this at your local Brew Thru. Oh no, they are only producing 250 six packs and in order to qualify for the opportunity to indulge in this cosmic brew it'll cost you 10,000 yen to be in the lottery. Oh yeah, and I did say yen - because you must be from Japan to qualify. But that's okay, after reading that the station uses new technology to recycle urine into drinking water, I feel that this progressive alcoholic beverage might bring a whole new meaning to "This beer tastes like PISS!"

Shnack and Shchool.

Today was my last day of classes. As I have already mentioned, tennis acted as the closing ceremony for my final class as a Peace College student. We played no tennis, most due to that fact that it had rained all day yesterday, but class was not cancelled. Oh no, my dear Coach Daniels instructed us to meet in the classroom for our final day. Upon entering his office he smiled and pulled out two patches of cupcakes. He pushes them towards me and said "Congrats! You're done!" Everyone filed into his office where he said to take one in honor of my last day of Peace College classes. Cupcakes in our lack-of-tennis class. I dig it.

The rest of the day has been pretty uneventful. I met with B. Efird and wrapped up my internship class. We chatted about my accomplishments and talked of my next moves in life. She said numerous times how pleased she was with me. Hell, I'M pleased with me - but that's not new, now is it?

Tonight, Grace, McLamb and Fanny (along with perhaps a few stoppers-by) are going out to celebrate. Dinner and drinks.. a little more drinks than dinner, I fear.. will wrap up this, the last class day of my Peace College career. I'm not going to lie - I'm a bit sad. However, I don't think this school can handle me any longer!

Wait.. when?

I have made the sudden realization that my final day of classes will be this Wednesday. Yes, THIS Wednesday. On the day of December 9th, 2009, I will be going to my very last class of my undergraduate career. What will my last class be? A history class? - you ask. Clearly it will be a class concentrating on the Europe and the Reformation! - you might think. Perhaps a course in Ancient Greece? - you wonder.

My final class is tennis.

I'm going to repeat that incase your eyes shot out of focus for a few brief moments.

My very last class at Peace College is TENNIS. I'm not kidding. It is my one and only class on Wednesday. It is how I will wrap up my final day of official classes - on a tennis court, with a $15 racquet from Target.

Upon the realization that my final days of being a student at Peace College is coming to a somewhat bittersweet end, I burst into tears. We're talking about a full on wave of emotion with sobbing to boot! I stood in the middle of my kitchen, my hands covering my face, as a wailed like a little baby. It was when it dawned on me that the years of softball, boozing, Student Government, dorm room hopping, policy making, decision pondering, pot smoking, event planning, paper writing, hooking up, security dodging, party throwing, rule breaking, and sheer life contemplating mixed with crying, laughing, connecting, and Lord-knows-what-else would all be summed up in that final 50 minutes on a tennis court.

Be ready, fellow neon yellow ball whackers as years of changing and growing and realizations come to a head. I'm knocking those damn balls clear to Logan's... and I'm not chasing after them!

God Hates You Too

I was at a Subway today and was excited to see that a boys military academy had made a little stop through at the same establishment. After ordering, Grace and I were forced to sit right in the middle of the soldier wannabes. As soon as we sat down one young little proud American asked his commanding officer VERY loudly - "So, how do you feel about homosexuality?" The other boys, eyeing the tattoos on my knuckles and neck quickly shot daggers at the boy, who continued to mouth off. Unfortunately, Grace became visibly upset and I tried my best to tell her to ignore it. We sat there and ate, in an uncomfortable silence. When they all finally got up to leave, the boy waited in line for the bathroom which was near our table. So, I turned to Grace and just as loudly stated, "You know, most little boys who end up in military schools are there because their parents just don't want to deal with them. They're trouble makers who everyone else has given up on. Maybe they're orphans. Either way, society doesn't want them mingling with the rest of us." Grace laughed. The boy didn't. He did his business and then chased after the bus that nearly left him in the parking lot.

So, when you think that the "gay issue" isn't an issue: remember that we can't even eat a five dollar foot long without having to deal with close minded rhetoric. I got teased in high school. I get stared and pointed at in the mall. But I can handle it. After all, you ARE dealing with someone who left a redneck's face imprinted in the side of his truck because he felt the need to chase me down and attack me; all the while screaming that I was a "dyke." I hope they couldn't put all his teeth back in. It was hard work removing them.

Joking aside, it's not fun. It hurts. It hurts when I see my friends in tears over painful words. It hurts that I get treated so differently. No matter how long my hair grows. No matter how "feminine" I may try to look. It doesn't matter, because people HATE me based simply on who I love. And notice I don't say "choose to love"... because why would I choose to deal with these people?....

Excuse Me While I Wipe the Snot Off My Screen

It's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas - meaning, it's 30 degrees and I've been stuck on this couch for the past two days sick off my ass. My nose is raw and perpetually has tissue hanging from one, or both, nostrils like mucus stalactites. There is more pressure in my head than Hulk Hogan's nuts in a speedo. Every time I stand up I feel like a drunk bitch at a frat party. Pretty much, I feel like poopy shit on a stick. I am exhausted and, even more importantly, I'm bored beyond belief.

So, please excuse my brief absence while I lather my body in Vicks and chug Nyquil till I OD.

Happy Demcember, folks!