"Packin' my bags and I'm checkin' out"

I've been staying at the same hotel they put me up in for this conference last year. It has been strange because I catch memories of lounging on that double bed with my laptop reading email messages I couldn't or didn't know how to process in the wake of everything, and those memories only further confuse me. On the way back to the hotel the other night I was thinking about last year and the people who were there for me when it became obvious I just needed somebody to care. I never really explained anything, but I was thankful to know that I wasn't alone.

This year has certainly been different. For one, my room is handicapped. This means I have the equivalent of a locker room to go with my king size bed. Splashing water out of the shower onto the floor isn't a concern when the shower /is/ the floor. That realization greatly amused me for some reason.

Also in contrast, I've had a really good time at this show. I've been much more awake and alive than I can remember being last year. I got away from the booth a little more, talked to a bunch of people, got to wander around a little with my director, got carded getting beer for the guys (the RedHat baseball cap I had on definitely didn't help me here), and just played around in general. I've enjoyed being able to tell people about the DON, Constellation, KSC, and answer the oft asked question "So where's the best place to watch the launch from?" It's gone quickly and I'll be glad to return home, but it's been a blast. I'll be walking away from this experience with some great memories of everything from space lips to falling out of my chair as we took fire in the middle of a telecon. Years down the road I'm sure some of us will still be laughing about them.

It is always wonderful to be provided reinforcement that I truly love where I am. I think back on the past few days and for all of the craziness that fact is the only thing that I see. Our mission awes me, the future intrigues me, the past humbles me, and my coworkers uplift me. There isn't a single thing more I could ask for in that area of my life right now...

Except maybe that I was at the cape tonight and not in an Orlando hotel room. I won't get to see RSS rollback, and that means no picture of an illuminated shuttle this time around. The best I've got is this one, taken Friday night as I took advantage of my last opportunity to visit the stack I watched become a living breathing spacecraft as it sits on the pad waiting for ignition.

If that's my biggest complaint on a Wednesday night, life is pretty good.

Knowledge that the conference ends on a Thursday is the only thing that makes me somewhat able to identify which day of the week it is, by the way. That, and launch. Tonight doesn't feel like a Wednesday at all, but I know it has to be. Tomorrow I get to go home.

Captured At:2251

The hours on this tenth day of December are winding down, and with them my half birthday comes to a close. It's funny how when we're children that extra six months is crucial because we want to be older, yet tonight I'm sitting here wondering how the heck I got to be darn near 30. My time to be 25 is half over and I still don't know how to do it. I wonder if I'm always going to feel this far removed from my generation.

Going one step further, I wonder if I'm always going to feel this far removed from life and society in general. I'm to a point where I don't feel like I know how to function with people anymore. I can and I do it daily, but I never walk away happy with what has transpired. I concluded today that I don't even know my own family well enough to come up with something for them for Christmas. My mom says that's not the case; that we're all so fortunate that nothing jumps out quite like it would under other circumstances. That's a nice thought - and partially true I suppose - but it gets me down just the same. This is traditionally a difficult time of year for me and today I've been feeling it stronger than usual. It's what I get for slowing down I guess.

Yes, after nearly two straight weeks of work I did need the break. Saturday brought me over 12 hours of sleep, a day with no worries, and a gorgeous launch that I got to share with some of my family. I can't complain with any of that.

But the shift in emotion is one of the side effects. A friend told me recently that I'm on my way toward burnout. That anybody who puts in as many hours over the past few weeks as I have and doesn't plan on taking the time to replenish themselves is already there whether they choose to admit it or not. I responded to him the only way I know how: with the truth.

"It's not burnout, it's self preservation."

This time last year I was panicking at the thought of spending two weeks in the office with no people around and no work to do. I knew that left to my own devices I would self-destruct. I expressed this, was given a list, and I ended up loving the time I spent in those rooms and hallways by myself. My imagination ran wild making up stories and adventures as I crawled under desks and between chairs to connect cables and bring my little network to life. As long as I was working I was happy.

Yesterday I was thrilled at the prospect of two overdue weeks off. Today, however, the winds have picked up on my little island. I'm not concerned enough to believe a hurricane is coming, but I don't feel like I've got shelter from even a slight downpour. I don't know where to seek it even if I could.

I say that, and suddenly rain begins beating against the window. It's audible over music that's swirling colors across the ViewSonic monitor perched on the desk. The screen has turned a blinding yellow much like the sky at launch last night. I find myself lost in the dance of blues and pinks, their fluid motions tugging at a tangible void where I know my heart should be. Amazing how a moment so beautiful can simultaneously be so painful.

I say all of this and I don't see the point. I've concluded that part of the reason I don't write much anymore is because it doesn't matter. Much like talking, it doesn't accomplish anything. What do my thoughts matter in the grand scheme of things? What on earth do I know? What difference does my sorrow or celebration make in the infinity of a universe I cannot comprehend?

Captured At:2353

Children will listen...

Before I got in the car tonight I said that I was going to come home and go straight to bed without thinking about anything else.

I meant it.

But then as I drove away I realized I couldn't do that. I decided that I would be remiss if I didn't take a moment to put down solid evidence of how appreciative I am of something so simple it would probably seem meaningless to most.

And as I climbed the steps to my apartment a conclusion I had been dancing around finally cemented itself into a crease of consciousness as fact. Over a year ago I wrote what basically amounted to a series of requests for the people I want in my life. Months later somebody assigned themself to one of the roles without knowing it was one I desired the existence of. I honestly didn't think much of it.

Tonight as we talked, however, they verbalized some of the very words I used back then, again without any knowledge of my request. I can no longer deny that one of those things I was looking for I now have.

I don't believe you'll ever see this, Mike, but if for some reason you do, let me say it one more time. Thank you. Your faith, support and encouragement mean more than you could ever begin to know, and as this road you're guiding me down continues I hope that you too will be proud. From the very bottom of my heart, honestly and truly, thank you for everything.

Captured At:2348

This is me, lounging on the couch in my pajamas at nearly 1pm. I've been awake since somewhere around 930a, and I'm honestly surprised to discover what time it actually is. I feel there should be a greater sense of urgency to get my act together as I have yet to purchase a single Christmas present, however I remain unconcerned. The cause of my apathy wavers from laziness to the enjoyment of being able to stop and worry about nothing for a little while. Contrary to the recently voiced beliefs of others, I do know how to relax.

Something about this season doesn't seem right. People are disappearing from the office as if we'll see each other on the next working day when, in actuality, it will be weeks before we cross paths again. I also know I'm not the only person who can't quite grasp that the end of 2006 is upon us. This year has been...I don't know how to describe it, actually, but others feel it too.

My brain has shut down in the sense that it's being pretty lazy. At the Christmas party yesterday I handed back the Sudoku puzzle everybody was given stating, "This requires far more thought than I want to put into anything right now." I nailed the Word Search though; beat everybody. I always was good at those, and they require no thought whatsoever. Perfect.

It also seems to have shut down over the past few days in that I'm not guarding my words anywhere near as closely as usual. I'm also not giving much thought after the fact to the statements released, which is strongly out of character. This is either very good or very bad. Not sure exactly which yet.

But I do know that at the start of this week I was feeling sort of down and at the end of it I'm not. Amazing how the little things really can make it all better. Now all I need to do is finish crossing off items on this list of things I should do that I've neglected to give the proper attention to. Amazing how the time can go so quickly, yet can simultaneously seem frozen in place. One of these hours I'll get my butt off the couch...

Captured At:1439

Seven Shopping Days Left...

I've said on numerous occasions that Christmas doesn't feel the same to me here in Florida. The lights on the houses have never looked right without snow, pumping gas to Christmas carols playing over the radio without being bundled up in six layers causes some sort of mental disconnect, and walking around in jeans and a light sweater in the middle of December should definitely not cause me to perspire the way it did this afternoon.

On a deeper level, the holiday hasn't been the same since I left New York. It's hard to get into it, especially without my family. There are no decorations up anywhere in my apartment, no Christmas songs playing through the speakers, and no thoughts to even consider changing that.

And perhaps that's why today was the first time it felt like Christmas was actually coming. I saw the parking lots jammed with shoppers, caught the scent of the first tree I've seen all year, and did so in the process of what may be steadily becoming a tradition for this phase of my life. My sister put it best as the project came to a close when she told her fiancé that she didn't care if the whole table of cookies was thrown away; the important part was the time we got to spend together working on them. There are a few new food coloring stains on their counters and floor, and certainly more horrible decorating jobs we'll remember next season, but what a great way to pass a Sunday. I felt like I had a family again.

That's not to say I don't on any other day. I have wonderful, loving, supportive people who I am privileged to call my relatives, but we're separated. The distances are both geographical and attributes of my personality, neither of which I see changing in the near future. Because of this I have come to truly miss having people to share my life with. A few good friends around - and by that I mean here - who understand this exact thing I'm talking about would be terrific. At least it would be until I decided I needed space again and pushed them away as I'm often prone to do.

I said something about the holidays not feeling right without my family to somebody who responded that next year I can help their kids with the tree. That has the potential to be nice, but at Thanksgiving I was reminded how hard it is to try and fit in with somebody else's family. My hosts were great people and the time spent watching their girls reminded me of how I was with my siblings at that age, but as always I was the outsider - even if only in my mind.

We continue to do battle, my mind and I. It's part of the reason I couldn't argue much when it was pointed out that I've subtly changed since my graduation; that I'm still me, but wiser and perhaps a bit sadder. The truth is that what wisdom reveals is often difficult. When wisdom opens the eyes they see differently, sometimes hurting to the point of tears in the process. Enter the sadness.

Above all, though, wisdom says that faith and patience bring resolution, and it's because of this knowledge that I can say I am happy. It gives me confidence that it will all work out and my time will come, as opposed to before when I doubted such things were even possible.

So yes, I miss the holidays as I knew them. Yes, I miss my friends and family. Yes, that makes me sad and makes the season a little bit harder. Most importantly, yes, I know that though it will never be quite the same, I will get some semblance of that life back. For all I know, it could happen tomorrow. 'Tis the season for miracles, after all.

Captured At: 007

Ever Grateful

Since last Friday's Christmas party my coworkers have been steadily disappearing from the office. Last year the holiday exodus was accompanied by the smiles, warm wishes and tight hugs often given to loved ones you will be away from. This year each face went out the door as if we would see each other on Monday. I am sad for the change, but I also recognize that I received what I truly needed exactly when I needed it most. I continue to be amazed how that works.

My last day coincided with the date of my parent's arrival. I drove into the sunset that afternoon in deep thought about the year and the people it had risen to key positions in my life. As often happens, I was overcome.

"So I don't know how this works, but we're gonna see," I spoke quietly into my cell phone. "I'm driving over the 528 causeway and there are these delicate puffs of purple tinted clouds and an incredible...brilliant...neon...sun...spewing light all over the water. Spewing's a horrible word for it because it's gorgeous. And it's.../pink/ and it's the only time I ever liked the water pink and the clouds pink and the sky pink. And I drive and I look at it and I think... It's just one of those times where everything that you're seeing and everything you're thinking of...you don't know if you're in a moment so beautiful that it hurts or so painful that it's beautiful. And it's incredible."

I spent over an hour after that sitting in horrible traffic on US-1 and fighting to maintain a perspective that was awed and grateful.

Wednesday morning I had the opportunity to finally introduce my parents to one of the men that helped bring me to NASA. He was more generous in his time than I ever could have asked for, and was every bit as wonderful to them as he has been to me. If I'm honest, I expected nothing less. Of everything I have had the privilege to experience since starting at KSC, I will always remember this meeting and how wonderful it felt to put the people who shaped me face to face with somebody appreciative of their work.

The last wave of northern relatives completed their travels on Thursday. My aunt's house is now buzzing with the activity that comes with seven nieces and nephews, four siblings, two parents, one extra dog, and a partridge in a pair tree. As much as I love my family, I'm thankful to have some respite from the commotion when I come home each evening.

Yesterday Discovery landed. I watched the group standing on the runway in celebration greeting the astronauts as they emerged and I wanted to be there. I wanted to be one of those people out there having some part as it all happened, not balanced on the arm of a leather sofa straining to hear NASA TV commentary like the spectator I was. My exact ambition remains a mystery to me, but I'm slowly coming to accept the clues for what they are. This kid is going somewhere.

The photo I have attached tonight is from our IITSEC meeting room during the telecon the Army was kind enough to serenade us with gunfire for. The RedHat baseball cap I'm wearing was given to be by one of my champions at the office who often tells me I need to "hurry up and start running the place," though I realize that's probably not my actual calling there. The guy to the left is my self-appointed mentor whose confidence helps me feel less skeptical and pretentious when it comes to statements predicting my success, and the one hunched over the phone is our MSFC-based boss for all of the Constellation work we do. When I saw it the other day I recognized this snapshot as having captured a number of the things I'm most thankful for having come to pass this year.

All of that said, my brother has called again to inform me that dinner is ready and inquire if I'm on my way yet. I suppose I'd better get to it.

Captured At:1813

I had planned to detour past the beach on the way to my aunt's house, but all of that has suddenly been put on hold. Chances are I'll still swing past the beach and, as usual, arrive late at my final destination. I really am impossible.

This afternoon's trip to the mailbox brought the discovery of what might be the first Christmas card I have ever been sent by somebody outside of my family. Having just finished the letter contained within, I'm suddenly struck with the way life moves. I've paused to consider a nature within others that contrasts boldly with my own, and am struggling as I attempt to comprehend it.

Card or not, today feels funny. At 80 degrees with the gorgeous skies I love I'm not convinced that it's really December 24th. The first desire that came to me was to be by the ocean. For me this urge is normal, and I will put a few footsteps in the sand before I go play Christmas for the evening. The second feeling that came over me is the one that caught me off guard.

I felt like I should be at work; driving through the gates or outside taking the sort of break that characterized my first spring there, perhaps. Just there, really.

As I write that down I realize my old life has finally departed. In the past year work has slowly replaced a campus that no longer holds anything for me to become my "home". I feel the same about it now that I once did for my alma mater. That sentence reaches the page and somewhere in my mind I'm flashed to a feeling from my final semester that makes me sad. I no longer have the mental image to go with it; I simply know it as something that once was. Something dreamlike that I could almost be convinced never happened. A majority of my life is beginning to feel that way and I have yet to decide whether it's cause to celebrate or to mourn.

The swirling stirred by warm currents and a 10pt. font is not allowed to ruin today, though. I want to be celebrating this wonderful holiday with my family, and that's exactly what I intend to do.

After I swing past the beach, that is...

Captured At:1530

There's a slight chill to the December air at this hour. I've just come in from the balcony where I watched my brother get into his car and depart for his return to points north. There's a light blue to the dawn sky as the sun begins its ascent for a new day and one tiny bright light where the other stars have failed. I haven't seen the 630a hour this way in a long time. I've forgotten how much peace there is, and also how much it hurts.

For a moment I considered changing quickly and watching this day's entrance from a beach I've been trying to get to for days. I ruled out such a thing almost immediately; I'm not sure I'd do so well with it right now. I have yet to decide which hurts more: not being able to be myself, or the pain inherent in many of the actions that make me who I am.

Much to my disbelief, it has been a week since I readied this apartment for my guest with all the love and excitement one would expect. It's always nice to have somebody around for a little while. I'm much better off living alone I think, but something still stings every time this place is vacated. I should be happy for the return to my usual way of life, but I seldom am.

As expected, the departure of my brother and parents is gently pushing me toward work. There's no logical reason in the world to rush back, and I can see the desire for what it really is. It's the same motivator that's sending me back to my bed in hopes I become unconscious before the world changes from pale blue to white. That last battle is one I think I'm about to lose because of my election to write.

There are some days that you know will be difficult. For me, this is one of them.

But I'm still going to carry on regardless...

Captured At: 655

"But her dreams give her wings..."

The hum of a dryer and the repetition of the latest striking song serve as the evening's soundtrack in an otherwise quiet place. An infrequently used dining room bulb sheds light on her corner, and somewhere on the kitchen counter a new pink candle flickers a faint fruit scent through her tiny home. The customary thin black pen has just begun scratching slowly into the pages spread before her out of some necessity she cannot place.

I almost cried the first time she played this song; I could hear each word as if it were coming from you. It makes me remember and hurt and dream and believe.

And dream she does. With each word added her mind is constructing the latest addition to a lifetime of impossible scenes; the sort that would drive anyone with half a heart to a flood of indescribable tears.

I feel like I'm sitting in a movie waiting for my triumphant happy ending, and with each passing moment I feel the pain that comes with learning your dreams have failed you. I have every reason in the world to be strong in patience and confidence, but it wanes too easily.

The images keep coming, each a little different. Sixteen variations of dialogue are simultaneously writing themselves into imagined being. She doesn't know who she's talking to anymore, where they came from or why they are there, and it matters not. For all her belief in the importance of making the most out of the journey she cares surprisingly little about the back story. Nor does she consider what follows a scene being sculpted with such intense motions that at any moment it will leap the chasm between fiction and reality to take shape before her eyes.

You embodied something to me that I had never been able to put into words. I still don't' feel I can explain it, but I know that it's what I still cry over the loss of. I wish you were still around to assure me that it's all going to be as wonderful for me as you always believed. I really need that...

She thinks about a number of them. The ones she lost without having any control, the ones she hadn't known how to appreciate when she had them, the ones slipping away, and the ones she failed. She wonders how she can ever transcend that life to make something better for those around her instead of worse. She wonders how to shatter the chains of her own unfounded expectations.

And the little voice, however quiet, says "wait and be amazed". It tells her she doesn't have to understand, and that somehow all will be done as somewhere deep in her heart she knows it's meant to be. Or perhaps "hopes" is a better word. From Santa Claus to our own invincibility to the world at large doing the right thing, we have our delusions at every age.

I'm still stupidly clinging to the belief that I'll see it again in my lifetime, she continues. Experience has shown that I don't do so well when I let that go.

Captured At: 058

In the background President Bush is saying some words about the passing of President Ford, who is spoken of highly in everything I've seen or read about him thus far. As I listened and watched Bush Jr. I had to wonder if this loss has caused him to contrast this man with himself. I wonder if it causes him to question how he's serving and what his own legacy will be.

It is often said that power corrupts, but I think what it really does is bring out the true character of a person. I have also heard it said that people who want to lead probably shouldn't. I look at the opportunities I have had and know my service has always been accompanied with an understanding of what I would want in the people over me. Sometimes I completely missed the mark, but who hasn't?

Reagan died just after I started at NASA. Between Memorial Day and that, my first two weeks each consisted of four days each. It seems like a long time ago. I remember those early weeks and months, and since moving to where I am now they don't seem real. In a few days it will be 2007 and I cannot even begin to wrap my mind around that. The time goes way to fast...

Captured At: 800

Slipping the Surly Bonds of Earth

While digging through files to clean up this laptop I've stumbled upon an mp3 I obtained almost two years ago from a NASA memorial for the STS-107 crew. The melody is touching in a haunted way; one that simultaneously arouses awareness of the wonder, sorrow, pain, beauty, and frailty of life. The universe suddenly seems enormous. I, in contrast, am small and alone, lost somewhere drifting though the infinite blackness.

Here I freeze. Every comment about how I have been struck these past two days slips away with the reverberation of each note my tinny speakers are putting out. Where I am can only be comprehended by experiencing how the world feels to me as I take it in with longing eyes. It stretches from the dawn of time until what's to come. Sad and magical, hopeful and lost, peaceful and loving to the point of gentle overwhelmed tears.

I want to melt out of my body and glide across infinity with those conscious of it who came before me. Surely there are others just as crazy, just as special or just as normal that they, too, share this desire because they know there's more than we could ever begin to imagine.

When we meet each other, I hope we know. I hope there's something different that whispers out from us saying "I know what you see in the stars and the sunsets. I feel it too, and can understand everything you'll never be able to explain to me and why. So come, let us walk a little while contented in silence because there's nothing more that needs to be said."

Captured At:2048