An Astronaut’s Internal Monologue While On The Way To Hang Out With Someone Who Definitely Only Wants To Hang Out So She Can Ask A Million Questions About The Movie Gravity

Fuck this movie. Fuck this stupid space movie right in its bright, stupid, piece of shit 3D space face. Ugh, no, I don’t mean that. I shouldn’t let other people ruin my enjoyment of things that I truly do kind of enjoy. So what if I have to field phone calls from relatives who haven’t spoken to me in months, just so their opinion carries more weight when they talk to their friends about the movie Gravity over crudités at some boring party? “Oh, well my sister-in-law, the female astronaut, says blah, blah blah, blah blah blah.” Ooohh lala. So what if I have to field phone calls from, what, EVERY blog? Uh hey blogs, guess what. SHUT UP WITH ALL THE ASTRONAUTS TALKING ABOUT GRAVITY. “Ooh, I have an idea.” I bet that’s what every blogger is like. “Oooohh, I have an idea.” “Oooh, me, me!” Hah. But I shouldn’t take all of that frustration out on the movie. The movie was fine.

Maybe that’s what I’ll say to Cheryl. “Oh, it was fine.” Full stop. That’ll show her. That’s what you get when you invite someone out for a beer after not-quite-nonchalantly asking them if they’d seen the movie Gravity. Come on, Cheryl. Give me a god damn break. Oh, and I bet she already has her tweet drafted — “Sooo fun hanging out with [@me] tonight. Great to hear a REAL astronaut’s take on Gravity! #spacesister” The worst. Just the worst. Why am I even doing this? Is it too late to cancel? It’s 2013, you can cancel on people at pretty much any time up until the exact time you’re supposed to meet them, right?

Ugh, no. I should go.

Hah, you know what I’m going to do? I’m going to tell her all the wrong things. Maybe I’ll tell her that it’s impossible that George Clooney and Sandra Bullock would have to travel from the Hubble Space Telescope to the International Space Station because in reality Hubble Space Telescope and the International Space Station are the same thing. “They’re just one thing,” I’ll say. “It’s weird and totally inaccurate that they split them into two separate devices (‘devices,’ I’ll say) — must have just needed that for the story.” Hah! “Oh, but I read online that the ISS and the Hubble Space Telescope are actually two separate devices (‘devices’) very far apart, in different orbits,” she’ll probably respond. “Oh, so you’re the astronaut now?” I’ll say to her, so fast. Hah! “Oh, okay. What else would you like to tell me about space? What else did you learn online?” I’ll say “online” extra-mockingly. Onnliiineee. “And hey, if you already learned everything you wanted to know onnlliine, why did you even ask me out to this stupid bar in the first place?!”

Ahhhhhh, no. I’m not going to do that and I know it. Maybe just a little fib, though? “Sandra Bullock actually should have been nude under her spacesuit, she just wore clothes for the movie.” Hahaha. And then Cheryl will tell her friends. Would any of her friends know that that wasn’t true, though? I guess that’s the gamble. In order for the joke to really work at least one of her friends would have to know that astronauts aren’t nude under their spacesuits. “It goes birthday suit, then space suit — that’s what we always say at NASA. BSSS.” Haaaaah.

You know, I have been on actual missions. Why hasn’t Cheryl ever asked me out for a beer to talk about one of MY REAL missions? My REAL training? It takes a George Clooney movie for you to want to contact me to talk about space? I’VE BEEN TO SPACE! JUST TALK TO ME ABOUT GOING TO FUCKING SPACE!

Ugh, that’s it. I’m not going.

I’m not going. I’m not going. I’m not going. I’m not going. I’m not going. I’m not going. I’m not going. I’m not going. I’m not going. I’m not go– Ugh, I’m here.

Well, here it goes.

Fucking Gravity.