Ground Control to Major Tom

I have, in the last few weeks, become aware a a number of new and exciting things.  We have already talked about our microbiome, which still blows my mind.  Also I just watched the Deadpool 2 trailer and it’s ammmmmmazing.  I recently rediscovered “The Edge of Seventeen” by Stevie Nicks, and I only assume I let that fade from my life to increase the impact its reemergence has had.  But perhaps my most favorite new discovery is the following:

Bubbles knows how I feel.

There is Adult Space Camp.

I never went to space camp.  I was a nerd, mind you, and I can still recite every line from Willow and every character from She-Ra.  My friends and I deciphered, memorized, and then wrote each other secret notes in the runes from the

I still make that face.

Hobbit.  I was that kind of nerd.  My family was supportive but in more of a “it’s great that she reads so much but when is too young for Jenny Craig?” way, not in a “Let’s get this girl in the Mathletes!” way.  Anyway, point is, I never even knew what space camp was until wayyyy later in my life.

And now, I have learned, there is Adult Space Camp.  Space Camp, but for adults.

The reviews include such warm endorsements as, “I thought this would be stupid but it actually is okay,” and “My 18 year old man-boy-child loved it!”  I’m not totally sure I am their target market.  But I am totally sure that I’m going.

Exciting things you get to do: build and shoot a rocket (presumably all the way into the stratosphere, creating a bit of an international practical joke when it comes back down); design some sort of thermal heat protection; ride on the whirly-spin.  I have been asking friends I think might share my enthusiasm if they want to go with me…so far no takers.  One friend, let’s call him “Stephen,” pointed out that for the monies it would cost us both to go, we could probably build our own whirly-spin.  But I don’t want my own whirly-spin. 

I want to go to Space Camp.

This girl is like half as excited as I am.

I want official Space Camp pajamas.  I want fond memories of bonding with my team through the stress of a rocket launch.  I want us all to walk out from the cafeteria (where they obviously have soft serve space ice cream dispensers available 24/7, because that exists, because NASA.) in slo-mo like that scene in Independence Day.  I want us all to have nick names based on our particular personality quirks and roles in the group dynamic.  I want a long weekend that consumes my hard-earned and sparse paid time off for a completely ridiculous reason.  I want Space Camp.

I was not a child that was super into space stuff, but as an adult, it has all gotten more and more fascinating.  When the full lunar eclipse came through my region, I took a day off of work, insisted my boyf did the same, and we drove into the Path of Totality.  It was…amazing. 

When deciding where in the Path of Totality to go,
we heard of a place advertising
their "Total Eclipse of the Park" event
and despite it being WAY further out of the way
we obviously went to see it there.

It was such a visceral, physical reminder of how much bigger everything is than everything you can even think is the biggest most important thing. 

I have paid more attention to the gorgeous pictures of planets I only knew of before because “my very eager mother just sent us nine pizzas” was how I learned the planets.  (Pluto still counted then.)  I have paid more attention to the Mars endeavors.   If you weren’t watching Tesla send a car into space, I sincerely hope everyone is okay now— because I assume you or a loved one was in the hospital, preventing you from being inspired by the making of history.

Look, planetary life in America has been pretty rough and tumble lately, so read Seveneves and watch an overwhelming number of white bros cheer stuff into space to the dulcet tones of David Bowie sometimes.  There’s only so much alcohol, Reader.  We’ve got to survive this.

Anyway, point is, Adult Space Camp.  I’m a little nervous because, as I said, I am struggling to find anyone to go with me.  Not that I’m some hot commodity, but being alone as a single woman anywhere but a garden party or a Bath and Body Works Bonanza has its question marks attached to it.  Add in there that it seems to be a thing that parents take their over-18 kids to, and…well, I’d like to not come off as some sort of predator. 

But, Reader, I am totally going to SPACE CAMP?!?!?!?!  RIGHT??  For GROWNUPS?!?  For me, who is down to learn and willing to pay you for it, Hunstville AL???  I have not yet reserved my tickets, but I am as in as I can be.  If you’re interested, pls message me.

 

It's going to be just like this.