Breaking the Blog Rut

I've been feeling very boring lately, mostly due to the fact that I don't have much of a social circle outside of my husband and two kids (if that can really be a social circle). The fact of the matter is I don't leave my house very often (especially lately). Last week I left the house four times: once to Tae Kwondo, once to the bank, once to the store, and once to Boy's school. Not very exciting you must admit. So I broke out my trusty blog book and opened to a page at random. It said to share entries from my childhood diary. Well I don't have my childhood diary and if I did it would mostly be stuff like: "Meander's a dork." "I love River Phoenix!" And if I shared my high school/college/post-college-pre-marriage diary, your image of me would be blown. So I am presenting you with an excerpt from my "novella" that I had to write for my advance fiction writing class in college (circa 1999). Back then it was well received (or at least not as hated as most offerings) by my class. Looking at it now cracks me up. So here (in all it's grammatical erred glory) are the first couple paragraphs of:

Maggie: Space Goddess

Maggie felt sick. The world outside the window spun wildly as they made their approach. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the passenger seat. No matter how many trips through space she made, or how many times she landed, she hated re-entry, especially since the new corkscrew re-entry had been invented. Before that, re-entry was bumpy, but at least you weren't spinning like a top. The corkscrew entry supposedly made re-entry safer, and it really did. Space fatalities had gone down fifty percent since the new landing procedures had been instituted. Although she knew it was safer, she hated this type of landing.
(Hi, it's me! Here's a little commentary from 2008 me, you'll know that in the future because of the parenthetical italics. Are you getting that Maggie is re-entering the atmosphere? Good, I wasn't sure if I said "re-entry" enough. Back to the show!)
"Are you okay Maggie?"
"No Caleb, I'm going to puke." (Puke!?)
"Damn it Maggie, when are you going to learn to take a stabilizing pill?"
"When they don't make me break out in hives."
"Shit, I don't know why they let you travel in space. They should demote you to groundling status."
"Fuck you, I am as suited as you are. Besides they can't demote me, I'm the best ambassador earth has. No one else on the planet can speak as many languages as I can."
"You do know that you won't be such a hot commodity once McWilliams perfects his universal translator."
"If that pathetic excuse for a scientist can get his mind off his dick for more than ten minutes at a time, I'll start worrying. Now stop talking and land this bucket of bolts before I vomit on the control panel."
"Yes ma'am."
(Can we talk about how edgy I thought I was here, saying "Damn," "Shit," "Fuck" and "Dick" all on my first page. Yes! Take that, education!)
With a jerk the Shepherd 5 cleared the atmosphere, and Maggie opened her eyes to see her favorite part of the trip. She could see the ocean rushing up on them. Suddenly they were underwater, and she could see all sorts of fish. She amazed herself. As many beautiful species as she had seen in her life time, like the glowing mist creatures of Preambulus, or the tall stick like beings of Unbolo, nothing pleased her more than the sight of the sea creatures of her home planet. She felt like kissing the man who developed the ocean landing. Although she knew she never would since his latest innovation would put her out of a job once it was perfected. She saw the landing doors open ahead, saw the ship rush into the landing pad, and heard the doors shut behind them. She waited while the excess water was flushed out of the landing pad.
(end)
All-righty folks that's all your getting. I know it was such a pleasure. I can't tell you how difficult it was to not correct the grammar as I typed it up. Isn't it exciting? You just know McWilliams is going to be the sexy love/hate interest in the story, right? He already sounds so irascible with his inability to keep "his mind off his dick for more than ten minutes at a time!" I hope we see more of Unbolo, because Unbolo is so fun to say.
And this is just an example of why my creative writing minor never amounted to much.