born in a bottle rocket, and what is this recurring bug theme
I was on the space shuttle with about 12 other people, some of whom I knew. It was part of an international solidarity gesture; send the children from various nations into space together to show that we really don't want to fight. Not sure why they chose "children" ranging from about 18-21; maybe they didn't want actual kids to break the shuttle or hurt themselves.
Regardless, we were strapped in there like we were on a vertical roller coaster, waiting for takeoff. I was sitting next to Erica from Walsh and behind Thomas from Occam's--Thomas was making some Armenian good-luck hand-gesture (he is not, as far as I know, actually Armenian) over and over and explaining it to the guy next to him every time. I noticed a stuffed Grover muppet leaning against the wall in a centerfold sort of position and took a picture.
The shuttle started to take off, and to cover our nervousness we all spontaneously started singing "Ghost" by Neutral Milk Hotel very loudly (though a few people behind me were obviously superstitious and unhappy about singing the "and when her spirit left her body" part).
The shuttle got almost to the top of the launch tower, then sank gently back to the bottom. We kept pogoing up and down like this, roughly in time with the music.
I never found out if we made it to space, because the next thing I remember I was in a Shoreland double-op triple that looked like a cross between 617 and the RH apartment, and was painted like 612. The computer in one corner was functioning as a TV, and was tuned to some news broadcast about the shuttle launch. The press (all reporters in the world had suddenly become Japanese, incidentally) seemed to think it had been a successful publicity stunt, so I assumed everything had gone OK. My roommate, one of the new first-years, walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, and I decided to mess around on the Internet for a while.
I noticed that someone on citynoise had posted a photo of Grover in the same bizarre position in front of a brick storefront in Brooklyn. I wondered what the hell was going on, if it was the same Grover or if someone was putting these all over the East Coast, and resolved to add my photo in the comments.
Just then I noticed a beetle on the wall. I jumped.
"What's up?" asked Aiva, the roommate, from the kitchen.
"Beetle on the wall," I said, turning to face her. In doing so I noticed a giant mantis at her feet.
"Damnit!" I yelled, and left the room.
"Oh," she said indifferently. "I can kill them, I grew up on a farm."
I left the room anyway. In the hall there was a huge (~8" by 3") grey slug. There was no escape.
Regardless, we were strapped in there like we were on a vertical roller coaster, waiting for takeoff. I was sitting next to Erica from Walsh and behind Thomas from Occam's--Thomas was making some Armenian good-luck hand-gesture (he is not, as far as I know, actually Armenian) over and over and explaining it to the guy next to him every time. I noticed a stuffed Grover muppet leaning against the wall in a centerfold sort of position and took a picture.
The shuttle started to take off, and to cover our nervousness we all spontaneously started singing "Ghost" by Neutral Milk Hotel very loudly (though a few people behind me were obviously superstitious and unhappy about singing the "and when her spirit left her body" part).
The shuttle got almost to the top of the launch tower, then sank gently back to the bottom. We kept pogoing up and down like this, roughly in time with the music.
I never found out if we made it to space, because the next thing I remember I was in a Shoreland double-op triple that looked like a cross between 617 and the RH apartment, and was painted like 612. The computer in one corner was functioning as a TV, and was tuned to some news broadcast about the shuttle launch. The press (all reporters in the world had suddenly become Japanese, incidentally) seemed to think it had been a successful publicity stunt, so I assumed everything had gone OK. My roommate, one of the new first-years, walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, and I decided to mess around on the Internet for a while.
I noticed that someone on citynoise had posted a photo of Grover in the same bizarre position in front of a brick storefront in Brooklyn. I wondered what the hell was going on, if it was the same Grover or if someone was putting these all over the East Coast, and resolved to add my photo in the comments.
Just then I noticed a beetle on the wall. I jumped.
"What's up?" asked Aiva, the roommate, from the kitchen.
"Beetle on the wall," I said, turning to face her. In doing so I noticed a giant mantis at her feet.
"Damnit!" I yelled, and left the room.
"Oh," she said indifferently. "I can kill them, I grew up on a farm."
I left the room anyway. In the hall there was a huge (~8" by 3") grey slug. There was no escape.
Labels: bugs, citynoise, Michelson, physical Shoreland anomalies, pop music, space travel, Walsh
posted by Kat at 2:26 PM
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