|While I was obsessively taking pictures of my water glass, |
the manager at the restaurant approached me with some
concern & asked what was wrong with it -- I think she
smelled lawsuit. I showed her art, instead!
Since I found out about it, which is when I was very very young, I've loved the idea of being an astronaut. This was before space camp, or, if it wasn't, before I'd heard of space camp. I'm pretty sure it was before space camp. Besides, astronauts at that time were fit (& male) fighter pilots. I turned to science fiction instead. Have Spacesuit, Will Travel was a huge favorite of mine.
The other day, though, I turned on my radio just as the announcer was laughing about the idea of putting partying aside for 70 days & helping NASA test the effects of zero gravity on their astronauts. My ears perked up. I looked into the study & the various articles, in Wired & such. A study! For NASA! One that I could do! (With the tiny little problem that they're looking for people who represent the astronaut candidate pool, which 54 year old women probably don't inhabit much. Except they have scientists, don't they. Some of them could be 54...)
No, the thing that kept me from filling out the survey was the fact that I'm in (possibly) the best shape I've ever been in, what with my standing desk & getting (pretty much) back to using my weights. That & the fact that the bone density isn't guaranteed to be replaced. Being a skinny white chick of certain age, bone density is not something I like to subtract. Besides that, in thinking about what I could accomplish while (more-or-less) flat on my back without distractions is not substantially less than I can accomplish on my own two feet, with distractions. I like distractions. I like long walks in the woods. I like shorter (but still long enough) daily walks to the post office, & possibly the library. I like grocery shopping. I like moving about on my own power. I like my increasingly fit & flexible & strong body. I like birds. I like rearranging my furniture. I like traveling. Pillownauts, well, they don't do any of those things. So, NASA, you'll have to do it without me. I know you're (probably not very) crestfallen. Maybe someone in your ideal astronaut candidate pool will read my blog & sign up. Perhaps I have helped you in that small way. I've written stories about space explorers & such. (Including the fact that the least confident left-handed person on the starship was chosen to be the "The Negotiator" which appeared in F&SF, & that orange & lime jello with mini meatballs turned out to be an important plot point in a first contact story I sold to Analog.) So, in a very real way, I've given birth to astronauts. & I can do it again & again.
On to the next distraction, a visit from my friend Elizabeth. Too rainy to play basketball today, which we did the last time she was here. (My sore neck -- not used to looking up at that angle -- is perhaps grateful for the weather. Perhaps I need to add some faux shots while looking up at the ceiling fixture to my standing desk routine.)
269. Think about a long time childhood goal -- being an astronaut or a paleontologist or a cowboy -- & come up with some small way you can pay homage to that dream. Perhaps by scheduling a riding lesson...