Application to join NASA after graduate !!!

Woooaah this is so exciting !!! You have to read them all haaa haa ha . . .
I really want to apply :):):)

http://nasa.asee.org/graduate_program/graduate_application_instructions

So here is my question. . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . for Mrs.Wiwin's task

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Short Story : Big Hand Print

	T. K. Lee Big Hand Print I This man, Bill Lexx, as I was about to find out, was standing in front of the third story men's bathroom window when I went to use it this morning. Outside the window, not inside the bathroom, but on the outside, in a suit, which I might add was not a three-piece, and he had taken his tie off; his socks didn't match the color of his suit. I only noticed that because I sit down when I pee. I know a lot of men don't do that, or would never admit it, but I do. My grandmother taught me it was impolite to be heard using the bathroom, period.      So, I'm sitting on the toilet, and this man, Bill, I guess he heard me, because I had to put the toilet seat down, you know, so I could sit on it, and it clanged against the porcelain base of the toilet. And he turns around and stares at me. Thank God I hadn't taken my pants off yet. I'd sat down on the toilet to retie my shoes.      I forgot to mention that.      See, Margie, the secretary in my office, made me untie my shoes when she was getting off the elevator. I mean, accidentally, made me untie them. She goes down to the basement to smoke instead of outside, says she can't completely  appreciate a cigarette outside. I had walked a little past the elevator, not meaning to not speak, and then felt guilty and didn't want to be rude so I turned around to speak, and in the process of turning around, I stepped on my left shoestring.      She couldn't have cared less.      The elevator doors shut. So, I took the stairs up to the next floor to go to the bathroom. The bathrooms weren't designed with common sense in mind, just the safety of each gender. The building itself has only had one renovation, and that was out of necessity due to Camille, back in 1969. Nothing else has ever been done to alter its appearance, not even for convenience. It found its way onto the National Registry, about a hundred  years after it housed Confederate soldiers; now, it exists to depreciate history. <  2  >      The men's bathrooms are on every other floor.      And right as I got to the third floor, I saw Mr. Yola and got nervous.      That's how my other shoe got untied because I stepped on my right shoestring when I saw him, but I couldn't stop right then to tie either of them back because I thought Yola had seen me, and even though I was just going to the bathroom, he'd find some way to make me feel guilty for it. He's now the number one man at the Shipping office, and has been since Mr. Leman was found dead floating around Lake Tia O'Khata, last July. Yola's a true Mississippi gentleman; he doesn't have any children. He was mumbling to himself and had a rather glossed look to his face; I just went on to the bathroom, and sat down on the toilet to tie my shoes.      And I don't know what I was thinking. But after I tied my shoes, and this man, Bill, you know, is still staring at me — I told him his socks didn't match his suit.      "What?" Bill mouthed.      He couldn't hear me; the window was closed. I got up and opened the window… however, it's that old kind of window that opens out instead of raises up, so I had to ask him, I had to raise my voice, to scoot over to the left a little bit so I could push the window out.      "What!?"      I tried not to raise my voice, first, and mouthed back at him, instead. You know like you do when you're in a car and you're talking to someone else in another car, like at a stoplight, and maybe you know them.      "Scoot over to the left. I cannot open the window. It opens out, not up."      I motioned with my arms to indicate what I was asking him to do. After a second or two, he caught on. <  3  >      I pushed the window out, and then we had another problem. The window got stuck. See, the windows are tall, and they're plain glass, by the way, not frosted like in the ladies' which all bathroom windows should be, and when I pushed them open, they split, you know, one went out to the right and the other to the left. And the left one, on Bill's side, got stuck. I did try to close it back when I realized he couldn't then step around it, but it wouldn't budge. If the left window had gone all the way back to the wall of the  building, he could have gotten around the window and crawled back into the bathroom. But, as it was, he couldn't move, and the men's bathroom on the third floor is the last room on that floor, on the east side of the building.      Basically, he was trapped. There wasn't any other window for him to go to.      I forgot all about peeing.      I leaned out the window, and looked through the glass at him.      "Hey! I was just trying to tell you your socks…didn't match…your… suit."      I don't know what the hell I was thinking.      Then, you know what he did; he started to cry. And I don't mean simple crying,  I mean deep crying — drool was stringing down from the sides of his lips, cutting off into drops — falling the length of three floors.      I can't believe I told him his socks didn't match.      I don't know what the hell I was thinking. II Eight minutes ago, Mr. Yola fired Bill, without remorse, without regret. I'd passed him, Yola, on his way back from Bill's office, apparently. The things I wouldn't have known if I hadn't gone to the bathroom, huh?      Bill Lexx (and he was very exact with this, methodical) said it took him six and a half minutes to climb out of the break-room window and around to this side of the building. He took two steps a minute, precisely, except at the corner. Bill Lexx was very thorough about this process; I imagine he's rather good at his job: an accountant. Or, you know, used to be. He was also very anxious to explain himself. <  4  >      Of course, this side of the building faced the executive parking lot.      I didn't know why that was important, at first.      Bill Lexx's wife is pregnant with twins. She doesn't have a job. Bill had a wonderful  health plan through the company. Two months away from five years in the same position.  Raises usually start around then. It was the perfect job for a man of exactitude, as he seemed to be.      Bill says he has no idea what happened to the money. I believe him.      Then, again, the tears.      "I signed the papers, I signed off on them, the papers…I know that it it it it it came to the office. Alicia knows…. She can…she she…she'll tell you that!!"  Margie may smoke, but at least she's efficient. But, then, I didn't really know Alicia, other than she'd worn a cotton antler headband with bells on them, at the last three Christmas parties.      It must have been a large amount of money.      I looked down below us. You know, three stories is not all that high. I mean it's not so high that people can't notice you, especially when you're standing on the ledge outside of the building. But nobody even looked at us; none of the people walking by paid any attention.      He quit crying.      And, then, Bill Lexx asked me to forgive him.      "Tell me you forgive me!" He was becoming irrational.      So, I told him.      "I forgive you."      What harm could it do? If it helped him to realize what he was doing, if it helped him think rationally, you know, why not, I'd do it. I mean, I did it. Maybe in a bizarre way I was speaking for the company, you know, to him.  I don't know. At the same time, and it hit me all of a sudden, it…it seemed an enormous responsibility for me to forgive this man. <  5  >      You know, when I first came to work here, the Crisis Management Team, from Community Counseling — their offices are across the street in the Bancorp South building — was hired by this company to conduct a seminar on  "Suicidal Tendencies in the Workforce."      I didn't go.      I didn't have suicidal tendencies.      I don't think outside the box very well, I guess.      "Bill, I know you haven't mentioned jumping off, from, from here, and I am hoping it's because you are changing your mind if that was your original intention."      "I, I….I just, I…" He stuttered. I waited for more.      There was no more. He just stood still.      I couldn't help but feel frustrated. Then, he started sobbing again.      "Your wife is pregnant, Bill! You can't forget about that! She needs you;  those babies will need you! So you lost your job. You'll get another one!"      I didn't believe that myself. It's hard to come back from being fired.      He got so mad he hit the window.      Glass splintered everywhere, down to the ground and all over the ledge.      Then, I peed my pants. I have a fear of ingesting glass; my father was an alcoholic.      Thank God none of the glass hit me.      This would have been a lot worse if we'd been in a kitchen, I thought, Be glad we're  not in a kitchen.      His hand was bleeding, naturally. I ran to the sink, to the towel dispenser and ripped out one of those big rolls of brown paper towels that seem to thrive in industrial buildings. God, I bet that company makes some money. <  6  >      Maybe they were hiring.      I tried to tear off a large sheet of it, but Bill Lexx reached through the broken window, grabbed that whole roll and threw it straight to the ground. He didn't seem to care that he  had glass stuck in his hand, a few brittle shards embedded around his knuckles.      "Bill. Come inside. Please. Don't jump. I mean, look, look! You popped out the glass, you can crawl through, at least…I can get an ambulance…the hospital's only a block or…"      "Shut the hell up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up."      And I'm thinking it's amazing that not one single man has walked into this bathroom yet. We must have some powerful bladders in this building. I was actually starting to get pissed off, you know? Why did I have to deal with this? I wasn't all that close to Bill Lexx; we don't even work in the same department. God, why did I even look at his damn socks.      Still, I was in the middle of it now.      Here I was petitioning for an arbitrary man's life, rallying for his unborn twins and pitiful wife, for his seemingly indiscriminate purpose for living.      Bill stopped crying and stood up. He had alternated half-stand to crouch for most of his confessional. He was bleeding all over his suit, it was navy, a polyester blend, and the empty window frame. He put his hand on the brick wall of the building, preparing to fully stand, I thought.      His hand had such a large spread.      His shoulders relaxed, and he leaned against the wall, standing straight up. He must have been over six feet tall. I guess that's how I saw his socks to begin with; his pants didn't quite fit the length of his legs. He grabbed onto the window frame.      My left hand had been holding, white-knuckled, to the glassless frame stuck on the ledge;  my arm shot out to grab it when he first started to stand up, for support.  I guess I was so nervous, I'd forgotten — as I backed away, you know, to give Bill Lexx room, I backed away holding to the window frame. That with the pressure of Bill's weight must have been exactly the force needed because we dislodged the window. And while I was standing there, my crotch wet from urine, unable to let go of the window frame, Bill Lexx sucked in a quick breath, his hand slipped from the brick, and over  the side he went, without exhaling. <  7  >      I want to say he fell at the same speed as the brown paper towel roll, according to physics, but he didn't. He fell in slow motion, he did.      I watched him all the way down to the pavement; he landed a few feet from an illegally parked dark blue Lexus. Not too many shades different in color from his suit. A passer-by might have assumed he came with the car, or had tripped out of it, consumed by an aneurysm that had caused a terrible nosebleed.  For the fall to be such a significant one, the result was relatively neat and contained.      I guess I killed him. Not that I like admitting that to myself.      It certainly hadn't been my intention. And, I suppose it doesn't even matter now  what color his socks were. But, so you know, they were a light green, like a pistachio.      Argyle, even. Never seen a pair like them since.      I hope I never do.

http://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/BigHand912.shtml

 

Short Story: Garden of Stars

Garden of Stars By Pamarty Venkataramana M, from New Delhi, India (Source: storystar.com)

GARDEN OF STARS
A short story by
- Pamarty Venkataramana


I know I am the lone witness to all the events on earth, down below. My lord, the majestic Sun, would shine all day long and I step in to rise high above the sea levels and watch the happenings of those that assume the Lord of the Universe is away and so they could indulge in whatever past time, beyond the sun set hours...

For some, it is happy hours. The tired workers rush home to relax with their beloved ones of the family. Most others, nowadays, believe in chasing away blues or cheering themselves in company of intoxicating substances - often drinks and merriment.

Many more dedicate on a fallen apple piece or throwaways of food left over by pot-bellied merchants and then huddle beneath railings of over-bridges, fly-overs and make-shift shelters. Some hid their forms under parked trucks, much like canines do for want of a shelter called homes!

These humans had a very strange evolution from the pre-historic days of being a barbarian to becoming the ingenious clan of life-forms that created a make-believe globe with artificial borders and fences guarded to prevent free movement and yet issued visas to welcome those who spend man-made money or money's worth and returned to their respective homelands.

They failed to recognise that man was made to be different from the beasts and animals; the birds and the amphibians; the plants and the womenfolk on earth! They knew in course of evolution of civilisations that the blood and bodily-parts as well as functions of these were identical amongst them all. They knew that they all were born and that eventually all died. They however spread out across topographical zones and developed distinct senses of culture, tradition, flags, songs, dances, dietary and culinary habits and even a babel of tongues!

In the recent century, mankind had established a United Nations organisation and even began to be knit into one web-world entwined by Internet technology, as they termed it but still thrived on comparative analyses, differential pricing regimes and unequal currency measurements as a yardstick of their progress and dominance over one another! Societal mores changed rapidly and unthinkable judicial acceptance of such hitherto frowned upon practices added pace to the unnatural transformation of that bluish mass of floating body called Earth around which I am assigned to rotate on my axis!

Well, the nocturnal creatures such as the owl and prowling wild animals in search of prey for food and survival kept me company. As I noticed to my astonishment, mankind too had its set of burglars and leech-like criminals that step out under the cover of darkness to steal, usurp and injure others with selfish motive... And then, there was the ever increasing trend of smoky jet machines which criss-crossed the cloudy skies closely followed only by man-made satellites that beamed data for not always holy purposes to their master computers and programmes way down in sealed corridors of power and pelf covered by an umbrella and seal of governance of fellow-beings!

All the other stars, even the constellation figures, were disgusted and dismayed by the poor visibility of things on the watery planet Earth and thus, it was left only upon myself as the Lord's Consort to attend to all those that looked up at the sky with a prayer on their lips or seeking succour from Heaven above their little selves!

I had to give you the introduction above only to highlight the great spectacles I do get to watch from my exalted position in the night skies! For one, none of those floodlights, neon lamps or solar powered mass lighting can ever match up to the cool beauty of my beams. The cruelest of men as well as the loveliest of women are but influenced by the degree and extent of my beams touching them as they grew within the confines of the mother's womb - a cosmic secret little known to the best of super-computers!

Thus, it was only my radiance and charm which could rectify characters or nurture goodwill among these creatures whom the Almighty created supposedly in His Form: little wonder also then that so called rational thinking people pooh-poohed the existence of a God or that gods & goddesses did indeed resemble their beings and forms.

From time to time and across the eons, I do rise to the call of Destiny and direct the celestial power of my moonbeams towards a chosen couple to get them to fall madly, passionately in love and depict a tale or saga of loyalty and worship of love while being born as humans and leading a life on earth! This is essential to restore the semblance of sanity and humanity among mankind: when Divinity is at play, to what end and purpose are the deceit and evil perpetrated by mankind's own ilk?

Here is one such instance of my intervention to transform cold blooded, warring earthlings into humane, loving persona of the Unseen Force - Almighty God!

It was early dawn and about four a.m. Earth time!
A 'guru'[one who guides another from darkness of ignorance towards the light of wisdom by gifting the lamp of knowledge] was discoursing to his group of disciples in that blessed portion of Earth popular down the ages as 'Bharata' and crowned by ageless Himalaya mountains. He suddenly asked if anyone present there was capable of raising a garden of flowers in that region, braving the cold climate, the ubiquitous mosquitoes, the insects, rodents and reptiles in order to present the flowers to the Deity of the Almighty who presided atop the seven hills. The Lord loved to be adorned in flowers, he pointed out.

One among the batch of disciples raised his hand, stood up, bowed in reverence and submitted his desire to take up the task. Prostrating in traditional way, he sought the blessings of his Revered Guru and after sunset, set out along with his wife to find a large tract of land in Tirumala hills. Soon, he prepared a flower garden and began to send the flowers for garlands to be prepared and hung around the neck of the presiding deity. However, he thirsted for more to be done in the service of the Lord.
He wanted to send flowers that were even more beautiful and more fragrant. He wanted to raise a garden around the temple for the purpose. To begin with, he wanted to dig a tank for supply of water to the garden itself. Hence, he took the assistance of his spouse and began to dig the water-tank. Since he was the main priest offering worship during the daytime in the temple, he and his wife would begin to dig the trench and gradually the tank itself, after sunset hours and I, the moon, was their companion shining within them as their 'Faith'...

As a few days passed by like this, The Lord was touched by the dedication, devotion and sincerity of the couple. He walked up to the man in the form of a young lad and offered to help. But, was denied permission by the man saying that it was a sin to extract laborious tasks from minors and little children, and especially since he had no money to pay as wages for such a labour either. This sense of justice and compassion only impressed The Lord further and he firmly resolved to Grace his devotee. God always is more determined to bestow his Grace upon His Devotees than the faithfulness exhibited by them.

The husband would dig the ground with a crowbar whilst his wife would carry the soil in a basket to a far corner of the land and dump it there, albeit being at an advanced stage of pregnancy!

Now, The Lord assumed the form of a young child and approached the woman and pleaded to assist her in the task: the lady could not refuse the wish of a child who seemed to enjoy it! Thus it came to pass that no sooner would the man dig out a heap of soil and put it in the basket would the woman go and return seemingly in no time and without any signs of exertion even in her physical state of carrying a to-be-born baby in her womb!

Unable to hide his curiosity, he asked her the secret of her energy! The lady declared that she was being helped by a sweet looking child. This infuriated her husband because he disliked taking help from others! He ambled quickly across the tract of land and chased the boy who only ran around playfully in circles and giggling. It seemed a hide-and-seek game almost akin to the game which clouds play with me, the moon, or the sea waves! But, the short tempered devotee was livid with rage and looking up towards me shining bright up above as a full moon at midnight-hour he hurled the crowbar at the little boy: the flying missile glinted in moonbeams that tried to shroud The Lord in an hour of crisis but hit the chin. Being in a human form, the wound of the young boy began to bleed profusely... And, he disappeared among the flowers of the garden and retired to his sanctum Santorum of the Temple... After a few minutes of searching for the naughty lad, the man resumed digging the land in a bid to build the water-tank!

At break of dawn, he bathed, and applying sandalwood paste to his forehead, he stepped into the temple only to find a huge commotion in there! The Lord had a bleeding wound on his chin and the efforts of fellow priests to press camphor and turmeric against it appeared futile: the blood kept dripping from the Deity sculpted of dark granite stone!

As a moonbeam touched his forehead through the temple tower's intricate arch designs, the truth dawned on him and the ardent devotee began to sob and he prostrated before the Almighty Lord with folded hands and a repentant heart, sobbing uncontrollably. He begged to be forgiven. He was blinded by a magnificent obsession to dig the water tank and grow a beautiful garden of flowers to be offered to The Lord he worshipped but failed to recognise the fact that His Lord was gracing him with personal assistance and had in the result, acted in a hasty, foolish manner inflicting an injury on the very God he worshipped for protection and good health!

Almighty Lord, then stepping out of the sculpted form, embraced the man and delayed that the camphor on the chin will forever be a reminder to the world at large of the greatest devotion exhibited by this devotee who grew the rarest of rare flowers to be adorned in the course of worship of the Divine!

The incident I witnessed was in circa 1113 CA of the modern day earth - calendar!

Now, as I shine on that region atop the seven hills which have grown enormously in pilgrimage popularity and tourist traffic, I still find that the garden is filled with trees of several hues and fragrances: I alone know that to this date, The Lord and His Consort walk into this garden and finding the flowers magnificent, pluck and smell them, and as they throw them into the air, these turn into stars in the heavens above earth and throw their radiance upon every being born on the hour of their own transformation as stars from flowers! The crowbar with which 'the star gardener' inflicted the injury on The Lord is displayed to this day in circa 2023 CA of the earthen calendar and whoever visits the magnificent Tirumala Temple of Lord Venkataramana would see this testimony of devotion, love and grace hanging prominently both on entry as well as exiting from the main entrance!

Spiritual religions believe in the power of flowers and if adorned as a garland to a deity of worship, absolute protection from all evil and negative forces of Nature is assured by cosmic power and Grace of the Almighty!

I, the fair and lovely moon you all so adore, would leave you to muse and contemplate on the fact that the author I am using to pen this account of the 'garden of stars' also has a childhood cut below the chin and can see souls, not forms in human beings and other creatures of life! And, I am his muse, of course!!

Food for thought?       

                                    Source -> http://storystar.com/php/read_story.php?story_id=6337
        

Tyrannosaurus Rex

This time around I want to tell you about Tyrannosaurus Rex !!! Yeaay...

(Source: Google.com)

 Tyrannosaurus Rex is from Greek meaning Tyrannos, meaning Tyrant and Sauros, meaning lizard. Rex meaning King in Latin. That means Tyrannosaurus Rex is King Tyrant Lizard.

(Source: Wikipedia.com)

Tyrannosaurus Rex, sometimes just called T-Rex, is believed to be the largest and most fearsome  predator on Earth's land ever to have existed.
This dinosaur, once lived in the Creataceous period approximately 6.8 to 65 million years ago. The T-Rex lived in a humid, semi-tropical environment, in open forests with nearby rivers and in coastal forested swamps. The seasons were mild.

(Source: Wikipedia.com)

Tyrannosaurus Rex was up to 40 feet (12.4 meters) long, about 15 to 20 feet (4.6 to 6 meters) tall. The arms were only about 3 feet (1 meter) long. T-Rex was roughly 5 to 7 tons in weight.

(Source: Google.com)

As a carnivorous dinosaur, this giant predator most likely ambushed their prey and devoured them with jaws full of white sharp teeth. With it's fast ability to run at an astonishing speed of 32 mph (50 km/h), a perfect slim and stiff tail that gave it a excellent balance and allowed it to make quick turns, equipped this gigantic predator and made it even more deadly, like a killing machine.

(Source: Wikipedia.com)

(Source: Wikipedia.com)

(Source: Wikipedia.com)

Well, that's all. Thank you for reading my posts :)

Story about Myself

HI...
This is a story about myself. My name is Nasya Dwi Listya, my friends call me Nasya. I have a big brother, his name is Pebi Yuda Pratama. He was born on 2nd February 1992 in Bandung, West Java, Indonesia. And 5 years later I was born, on 12th February 1997 in Bandung. So, this year is my 16th birthday.
I live with my family at Paledang B2 street, Bandung. My brother and I are very close, even though my brother is 5 years older than me. Because we have a lot of common things. Such as hobbies, things we like, etc.
Now, I am in 2nd grade of high school in 3 Senior High School in Bandung. I went to Andir Kidul 1 Elementary School and 5 Junior High School.
My hobbies are reading, drawing, watching movies. One of my favourite book is Icylandar, written by Dionvy. She is from Indonesia. The story tell us about kingdom of Elf.
In the future I want to be an archeolog, architect, teacher in kindergarden, and a writer. Actually, there are still many more, but those are my priorities. So, to achieve my dream, I have to study hard and try to focus it.

                                               (this is me and my friends, I was in the middle)