Space

I miss wanting to be an astronaut.

I think it was the number one thing I had hopes on as a child.

I had this... fantasy... that one day, I would wake up and NASA would just call me.

They'd notice my years of training, dedication to the space program, and my minority status.

Then, they'd say, "You'd be a great candidate for the space program. Are you interested?"

I'd immediately say "YES!" and explain how I'd always posted pictures of rocket ships and their internal workings just so that I would know what to do if something bad happened.

I'd wax philosophic about the moon, how I had a huge map of it posted, and how I know that the Sea of Tranquility would be a perfect place to setup shop for a permanent moonbase.

I had plans... lots of them.

I even had plans of terraforming Mars.

I was serious about space travel.

I thought about it every single day.

As a matter of fact, I used to think about how cool it would be to ride around in the International Space Station and look down on the earth and all its people.

I wanted my first trip outside of the United States to be in space.

However, I think that some of it died with childhood... some of my wants and needs disappeared as I was told to realize "where I was from".

Top that with the fact that I've been struggling to finish just one "silly degree" from a university.

Add to it... the end of manned space flights (for the time-being).

And, finally, the deorbiting of the International Space Station.

I know there's a new "mission to Mars" thing going on, but I feel as though there are too many candidates to compete with, right now.

It's like going "astronaut hunting" on the equivalent of Black Friday.

I feel like the field is too crowded with astronaut wannabes that don't really care about space, the exploration part, didn't even watch Star Trek (TOS or TNG), and just have all these uber-fancy degrees that don't mean anything besides the fact that they just sat around and got lucky enough to take out a loan or get a scholarship to do all that crap.

(*breathes*)

But what I'm really angry about is the fact that I have wanted this my whole entire life.

And even at the tender age of 35, I have yet to give up the dream, or feel less fascinated by it.

Sure, I'd want for some NASA official to be strolling through the internets and catch my blog.

I'd love for that "imaginary" call to happen... living in the projects, I always got mad whenever I didn't have a phone... because I wanted NASA to "call me" like they do in those movies where you find out that you've won something fabulous.

Oh, and do I know the dangers of "space traveling"?

What, you mean the fact that space debris travels at the speed of a bullet and even a little grain of sand could puncture my spacesuit on a space walk?

Or, that if I don't keep my visor down, that the billion degrees of the sun's real power will burn my face?

Or, that space, itself, it pretty much a boiling vacuum, so if I do get a puncture, I'd have mere seconds before I turn into a boiling flesh interpretation of myself?

Yep.

Oh... and I know that I'll suffer extreme bone loss after a few days in space... coupled with the fact that my organs will nicely rearrange themselves in my body and it'll feel like I'm at the top of a rollcoaster all the frickin' time.

Yep... I know that, too.

I didn't just "dream this" folks, I researched it.

Real research... not just googling and reading one article.

Years.

Many, many years.

So why haven't I done it yet?

Fear?

Maybe.

Moreso... the dream crashing that would happen once I realize how tough it is to go through all these steps.

I'd be more fit to be on a space station as a construction worker than a scientist (although, there are a lot of scientists on the space station).

I feel like I don't want to pursue it if I'm going to be shutdown with a hard wall of facts.

I'd have to get myself spiritually and emotionally prepared for that sort of pain.

To a NASA professional, I'd just be one more kid with a dream that will fleet elsewhere after they say "No."

For me, it would be the end to a lifelong dream that I've cultivated for most of my life.

Once I get my wits about me, I'll be ready to ask.