Why I am not an astronaut

The International Space Station passed right over Jenworld on Thursday evening. The sky was crystal clear and, even though the air was cold enough to freeze our blood, we went outside for a few minutes to observe.  It was amazing.  I still can’t believe we could see a man-made object that was 212 miles away.  (Yes, I understand about the sun reflecting off the solar panels and all that.  But still.)

Since then, I’ve done some reading on the ISS and I’ve learned quite a bit from the 10 minutes I spent skimming Yahoo News and Wikipedia my exhaustive research:

Did you know that the ISS moves at a speed of just over 17,000 mph?  While I’m assuming that doesn’t actually feel like anything up there, it still makes my head spin.  Maybe that’s why I’m not an astronaut.

Did you know that the ISS is only 85% complete?  That’s right, they shot that thing up into orbit and it wasn’t even finished.  While it’s okay to open an amusement park with only 85% of its rides functioning, somehow the idea of an incomplete space station makes me uncomfortable.  Maybe that’s why I’m not an astronaut.

Did you know that the permanent crew of the ISS is usually three people and they’re up there for around six months at a time?  Damn, you’d better hope you get along well with your fellow astronauts or else it’s going to be a long-ass tour of duty.  I just know I’d get stuck up there with the guy who clips his nails in public or the one who constantly adjusts himself through his space suit.  By the end of the first week, I would have committed the first cosmic homicide and I’d be trying to figure out how to dump the body in space without NASA finding out.  And they would surely find out, so then there’s no way I could escape because they’d be my ride home.  It’s probably just as well that I am not astronaut.

Did you know that the residents of the ISS recycle their urine and drink it?  While I knew that they didn’t have gallon jugs of filtered water sitting around the ISS, it didn’t occur to me that they had to resort to Fear Factor measures.  Drinking their own urine.  And not even on a dare.  Even worse, they don’t have anything to cool the water, so they’re drinking it warm.  People, that’s warm pee water.  Yet another reason why I am not an astronaut.

I love this line from Wikipedia:  “Activated charcoal filters are the primary method for removing by-products of human metabolism from the air.”  (My emphasis added.)  I don’t know exactly what that means, but I think I can guess.  They packed burritos for the astronauts’ Friday night fiestas.  Thank heavens I’m not an astronaut, because I don’t want to smell anyone’s intergalactic farts.

The space shuttle Endeavour has been docked at the ISS for about a week now.  Among the supplies they brought with them:  two spare bedrooms, a second kitchen, extra bathroom and new gym equipment.  I love it when company shows up with new rooms, a toilet, and more furniture.  The real bonus would be if they cleaned up after themselves.  But my question is:  If they’re forced to drink warm pee water to survive, what are they cleaning with up there?  Or are they?  Maybe they don’t bother dusting the vases and vacuuming the oriental rugs.  Dirty space crappers — another reason I am not an astronaut.

And did you hear about the astronaut who lost a $100,000 tool kit while doing a space walk?  Man, I’ll bet she’s feeling a bit, um, stupid about that.  Although, if that were me, I would have lost the $100K tool kit and so much more, so I can’t really judge her.  Hell, I’d probably break every life support system on the ISS and we’d all die a horrible death.  It’s a good thing I’m not an astronaut.

Have I ever mentioned here  that I majored in Astronomy, with lots of other classes in math and physics?  I haven’t?  Oh that’s right, that was my husband.  *I* majored in History, with a minor in dating a cute fraternity boy from Texas.  THAT is why I’m not an astronaut.

Oh yeah, and my complete and total lack of knowledge of physics, calculus, chemistry, computer science, astronomy, astrology, engineering, Star Trek, and Battlestar Galactica.

Does this space suit make my butt look fat?