Traveling to the final frontier
I know I’ve been sporadic, to put it kindly, but I’ve joined National Blog Post Month, to force myself to write every day the month of November. RHOB is going to get her blogging grove back, people!
Now that I am no longer a housewife (alas) and no longer live in Belgrade (tragic), my travels have slowed down to a trickle. It doesn’t stop me from fantasizing about adventures, including the ultimate adventure: space travel.
The NASA program may have ended, but private space travel is just beginning. A Russian carrier is taking people to the international space station for a mere, ahem, $35 million dollars. Virgin Galactic could offer space flights within a year. Last month, someone JUMPED from space to Earth. Okay, maybe I’m not that desperate to be in space.
Why wouldn’t you want to experience a space flight? Every now and then, I talk about this to someone who has no interest in going. “It’s a long flight,” “It’s dangerous,” and “you wouldn’t get to see anything” are the most common excuses.
Long flight? No doubt. For $35 million though, I’ll bet you get free wine and Ambien. Dangerous? Honey, I’ve floated my car on an Albanian “ferry” that Huck Finn would have rejected. Danger is everywhere. You wouldn’t get to see anything? You’d get to see the Earth. From space. Drinking Tang. Eating freeze-dried ice cream. How is that not enough for you?
Plus, to be perfectly honest, I would love to casually mention it when I’m in a room with someone who thinks they are the Most Important Person Ever, which happens all too often in D.C.
THEM: “Oh, I am so very important because….”
ME: “That’s great. Have you been to space? No? It’s pretty cool. You should go.”*
So, anyone have $35 million to spare?
*Sadly, even this may not raise eyebrows. NASA headquarters is only 30 minutes from D.C. At least I could get packing tips for my trip…