There's a story in the news today that just warms the very cockles of my heart. And I didn't even realize they were cold.

Apparently, Lisa Nowack, an astronaut, was able to find her way all the way to the International Space Station and back again without asking for directions. She was also able to drive from Houston to Orlando, wearing an astronaut diaper (let's read that again because it's just so darn fun: an Astronaut Diaper), at which point she donned a trench coat and a wig, gathered up her BB-gun, steel mallet, knife and rubber tubing, and went to talk, gently and calmly through hysterical tears, not to mention the cloud of pepper spray, to a woman who is apparently involved in some sort of complicated love... geometric shape. At first I heard "triangle," but apparently there are at least four and maybe five people involved. A Love Quadrilateral? Perhaps merely a Close Friends Pentagon?

There are just so many places I could go with this, but it all boils down to the basics: even rocket scientists, literally rocket scientists, go crazy. Forget your poor, your tired, your huddled masses; now the elite can relax in knowing that even when they go crazy, they don't go quite this crazy.

I'm going to start watching the night sky for the space shuttle's messages in smoke overhead: "SURRENDER DOROTHY." Or, in this case, Colleen.

Just a fabulous day to start my day, really. Especially listening to the radio interview this morning, in which her defense attorney stated that there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for the rubber tubing, steel mallet, pepper spray and BB gun that did not necessarily indicate intent to cause harm. I just love people. And lawyers, too.