His front paw was the size of my torso. When we performed the trick where the glistening knives embedded in his gums clamped down around my head, though carefully and deliberately enough so not a drop of canine saliva dampened my hair, the crowd went wild. No one had ever seen an eight-year-old lion tamer before.
Ok just kidding (obviously). An odd sequence of events led to an inquiry about the title of my blog, and unfortunately I have no scintilating stories about my encounters with vicious beasts (or even benign beasts).
If I can remember all the way back to May (which is surprisingly difficult), I think I chose "Jordan Meets the Animal Kingdom" because I was vaguely disappointed that I would be spending my summer in suburbia and not some unincorporated wilderness (full of furry and feathered beasts, no doubt). Perhaps if I give my blog an exciting title, I thought, my "adventures" at NASA will have the flavor and excitement of a wilderness safari...or something...
Maybe I should have just stuck with the lie. I'll come up with a better fake story tomorrow, when I've actually had some sleep (oops, I'm going to have to wait until after tomorrow if I condition it on sleep...).
Are my sleeping patterns really that erratic?