Incoherent babble about space

In my perpetual complaints about my hatred of my science courses, and my lack of understanding of many things scientific, I've always had a love for space...and often dreamed of going into space. Growing up I watched every launch I could (ones that weren't on while I was supposed to be sleeping) until Challenger. After Challenger, the school decided it wasn't such a good idea anymore. Every time the shuttle passed overhead where I could see it from home, I'd tried to look.

I woke up this morning to news about Columbia. And I can't do anything but weep, and sit in stunned silence at the pictures. If one could have a favorite shuttle, Columbia was mine. I'd watched it since I was 4 or 5 years old. I'd drawn pictures of it when I was growing up. There's always been something incredible to me about space travel, space shuttles...

And today, I'm just sad. Terribly sad. Stunned that just barely 17 years after the Challenger explosion that I'm watching this again.

I'm just...numb.

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One of the things I love about livejournal, and about my friends is how swiftly reactions to tragedy were posted here.

I'm home alone and I know I'm not the only one with a gutwrenching reaction. I'm home alone and know that other people are watching. I'm home and I know that other people are sad, and shocked. I know that we've preserved this moment, tragic as it is, in a feat of modern technology.

I'm home alone and I know that you all are with me.

Thank you for that.

(no subject)

The word fuck appears on my friends page a lot today.
The entries are filled with space shuttle related posts.
I wept when CNN replayed the rememberance for Challenger's crew from January 28th.
I'm not ready to give up on wanting to see the world from space. I just wonder if it will ever be possible.