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History is about to be made as NASA's New Horizons spacecraft is about to fly by our solar system's Jan Brady: demoted ice hell sorta-planet Pluto. This is the first exploratory craft to enter the outer reaches of our neighborhood, specifically the Kaiper Belt, where all dreams die.
But why all the interest in this tiny rock that can't even orbit our sun correctly? Turns out we have lots to learn from the "Pizza" in our grade school planet pneumonic. Especially us ladies.
Venus taught us gals that we are inhospitable sulfur-spewing monsters; Mars taught us that men are treacherous assholes. Saturn taught us to accessorize; Jupiter taught us that our big red spot makes us very Mercurial. But what about Pluto?
Here are ten invaluable lessons that Pluto can teach the Modern American Woman:
We will always be alone, icy, bitter and lost.
Love will never find us. Like Pluto, we are 7.5 billion kilometers from love. No, it won't happen, Diane. Stop it. Stop thinking it's going to happen. No one wants you. Let's just go to a fudge shoppe (sic) with our special needs cats and talk about America's Got Talent and die. Slowly.
Our son will always be distant and cold.
Occasionally, we may move a little closer, but that ungrateful fucker will forever be a resentful speck in the sky, almost indistinguishable from all the strangers shining around us. Because we failed at motherhood, Diane. We failed. Frank wanted kids; we didn't. We weren't ready. We don't even really love our sons. How can you love someone who has a Molly addiction and works at Famous Footwear? Oh, God. I need more fudge, Diane. PASS THE MOTHERFUCKING FUDGE.
Thank you, Nicki Minaj.
No matter how many interesting, unusual and "uniquely" beautiful features you have, no matter how great you are with other body parts, men will always be more interested in your anus. #newhorizons
You're no longer classified as a woman.
Just like Pluto, once you've been around long enough, a bunch of unfuckable dudes will decide that you're no longer classified as a woman. Instead, you'll be considered a "binary dwarf woman," which simply means "non-sexual sac of flesh that vaguely resembles a human," which also just means "over 30." Also, if you're an actress, all binary dwarf woman roles will be played by Jennifer Lawrence, who is definitely still a planet, because that seems fair.
You'll always have a much shittier, sadder friend.
If Pluto's lessons seem to depressing for you, take comfort in the fact that no matter how much older than 30 you get (or 27, let's be honest), or how romantically alone you are, you'll always have poor Sharon/Charon following you around to make you feel superior to SOMEONE. Sharon is terrible, and probably shops at Kroger.
Your life will be an oblong disaster.
Pluto has what's called a "chaotic" orbit, which means it's not perfectly circular like your goddamned perfect neighbor, Saturn, down the street, with her perfect house and perfect landscaping and perfect dozens of Catholic moon children who don't shit themselves as soon as they step on a trampoline.
Like Pluto, your life will be a constant, terrifying, eccentric tumble of descending parts, steep falls and punishing inclines. Your nodes will descend, helplessly. Occasionally, you may get ahead of your next-door neighbor, the hoarder meth dealer Neptune, but not often, because Neptune has a pool, so people clearly like her more.
No matter how small you get, you're still going to be a rocky, icy methane-stuffed disaster.
And not to judge, but if it takes you 248 years to walk around the neighborhood, maybe get a Rascal scooter? Finally, if the size of your asteroid bothers you (which it shouldn't, all sizes are beautiful), then all I can tell you is maybe Nix the bread Styx*, girl.
*Nix and Styx are both natural satellites of Pluto, along with Charon, Hydra and Kerberos. Nix also means to stop, and Styx is a homonym to "sticks," as in breadsticks. This is why this joke is absolutely amazing, just in case you were Kerberos**.
**It turns out Kerberos actually sounds nothing like curious.
The size of the belt doesn't matter; it's how you rock it.
Pluto is proudly part of the Kaiper Belt, an enormous asteroid field surrounding the outer reaches of our solar system. The size of the belt doesn't matter. Confidence is key. You are beautiful, even if you wear dark charcoal with burnt orange on your surface. Also, planets can't wear belts, but you can. So you are actually better than Pluto, which is something?
It's not about the resources.
You may not be an Eris*; you may not have money coming out of a body part that rhymes with a much more loved planet in our solar system, but you are rich in other ways: nitrogen ice, internal water ice at your core, and...um...
*Eris is another trans-Neptunian dwarf planet, similar to Pluto but not addicted to pills and enemas. Eris' discovery was part of the reason Pluto's classification as a planet was kicked to the Kerberos**.
And no matter what...
No matter what you accomplish in this life, no matter how famous you get or how many glass ceilings you break, men will always think of you as an idiotic cartoon dog. Which is why God invented fudge shoppes.