Location: Underway to Sardinia
What’s up, nerds? It’s been far too long since they chained me to this desk. I missed you all almost as much as I’m sure you missed me.
The first thing that happened this morning was a wonderful sunrise that I missed because I was below deck. The second thing that happened was Maya’s lunch (pasta salad) came up perfectly on time. She has gone on the record stating she’ll never give up the secrets for getting out to lunch so prompt, but some of us remember being woken for pesto at 2230…
After lunch, they threw us down below and subjected us to the worst torture young adults can imagine: college classes. Our oceanography lecture was about biological life under the waves. We learned about the classification of animals, that sometimes animals eat plants, and that Amanda hates all oysters all aroundreally productive lecture.
After that, we went to space.
Space is pretty big, but when all you have is one spaceship and the entirety of Mars, it turns out that “pretty big” only fits about nine people.
The premise: each student (and a few staff members) were given ages, occupations, and genders, all at random. We were then tasked with whittling down 16 people to 9, the lucky 9, that would get to escape a dying Earth and colonize Mars. In classic hypothetical fashion, the Earth was suffering from a plague, a famine, a nuclear winter, a few super-volcanic eruptions, and the staggering truth that Santa Claus IS real, and he’s mad.
Examples of roles included a 20M undergrad, a 10F robot enthusiast, a 88M HVAC tech, and a 27F (pregnant) arms dealer. Some roles were shoe-ins for a spot on the ship (Will’s 29F mechanic, Maria B’s 66F botanist, Sammy’s 31M med student), but others required some coaxing and debate.
This debate was the whole reason we were doing this exercise. Trying to work out which jobs, ages, or genders needed to go was where some of us shined.
It was quickly decided that Santana (51F storyteller) was a waste of precious air, and he was left to melt in radiation. Following swiftly behind him was Drew (19M artist) because we simply didn’t want the drama. After that, the three shoe-ins mentioned before were quickly decided to come with. Over a few spots, much debate ensued, so here is a brief run-down. Leo Vs. Maria B (22F gardener versus 66F botanist): this one was tough as many people wished to include Leo for his obviously fertile age, but many others argued that he was worthless as they already had a botanist coming. The outcome was they both were allowed to come. Lily Vs. The World (88M HVAC tech): This started with Lily getting a quick spot on the ship, as we all agreed that we needed a tech who could work on the air systems. It was soon pointed out, however, that Lily was RETIRED, and HVAC systems are much different than purifying oxygen. Charles Vs. Maya (27F pregnant arms dealer versus 27F accountant): this stemmed from a need for more younger crew members, and despite the uselessness of both jobs on Mars, it was decided that my baby would probably not survive the launch, and Maya was given the spot.
The final list of people going is as follows:
Will H (29F mechanic)
Phoebe (66M programmer)
Claire (35M teacher)
Leo (22F gardener)
Maya (27F accountant)
Will R (10F robot enthusiast)
Maria B (66F botanist)
Maria F (28M contractor)
Sammy (31M med student)
Debate amongst yourselves at home, as these were the remaining 7:
Charles (27F arms dealer but also pregnant)
Lily (88M HVAC tech)
Gabe (31M librarian)
Santana (51F storyteller)
Alex (20M undergrad)
Drew (19M artist)
Celia (25M athlete)
Once we had left our fellow crew-mates to their certain deaths, PSCT occurred, and we reviewed a bit about tides. And by “a bit about tides: I mean we talked about funny boating fails and how to sail directly off of a beach.
Dinner was chili AND cornbread, a much better meal than the chili cornbread that made an appearance early on. And once the meal was finished, we all cleaned up, and someone (no clue who, to be honest) stayed up until 5 AM after their watch to create a PSCT presentation.
All in all, good day. Sad, I’m going to be eaten by radioactive Santa, but truly, what else can you do?
Have a wonderful day/night/limbo. I’ll see you all later at the foot of your bed!