Five weeks ago today, I got my first car. Her name is Guinevere Saturn and we’re good friends; she’s very awesome. The reasons I need a car are mostly boring not-little-kid things like getting a job off campus and contracting college courses off campus, but I’m also enjoying having my own car for some very childish and immature reasons.

1. As I have seen my parents do, I keep a notebook where I record every time I buy gasoline. Unlike my parents, I call this notebook ‘captain’s log’ and label the column for the date ‘stardate’. I am not quite geeky enough to know or care how to actually convert the date into the Star Trek stardate equivalent, so I just use the actual date, but it still makes my life awesomer to have a captain’s log for my car.

2. Driving on the interstate is like playing chess. Since I only go forward, obviously I’m a pawn. Lane changes are therefore captures. When I reach the end of the board (and get off at the correct exit) that means I’m a queen. When I reach my final destination, that means I won.

3. (To be truthful, I haven’t actually done this one, but I always think about doing it.) When I park my car, I say “Sit.” Then, after getting out of my car and starting to walk away, I turn around, point at the car, and say, “Stay.” If anybody else sees and looks at me funny, I inform them that my car is very obedient and well-trained.

4. Ten miles an hour is warp one, twenty miles an hour is warp two, thirty miles an hour is warp three, forty miles an hour is warp four…

5. I’ve alluded to this idea in a previous blog post, and I still haven’t done it, but I will. I’m going to get a cardboard box and use it to make a fake flux capacitor for my car. I will then frequently find reasons to say, “If my calculations are correct, when this baby hits 88 miles per hour…” And sometimes I’ll complain about how hard it is to find enough plutonium to generate 1.21 gigawatts.

6. Another rule for interstate driving: Exit ramps are portals to another set of dimensions.