if you can’t fly, float!

July 26, 2010

As I was watching the tv series Bones last week, an idea came to my head. The episode was about an astronaut who was murdered, and the suspects were the US government and/or the space tourism agency.

The investigators, for free, were able to board a space shuttle. And at that point of zero gravity, the two of them floated. The badass FBI agent Booth and the forensic anthropologist Bones were, unexpectedly (by the looks on their faces), thrilled and ecstatic by the floating sensation that they’ve experienced. Naturally, I wanted to try that as well! Oh, the bliss of floating!

Wikipedia said: 

As of 2010, orbital space tourism opportunities are limited and expensive, with only the Russian Space Agency providing transport. The price for a flight brokered by Space Adventures to the International Space Station aboard a Soyuz spacecraft US$ 20–35 million.

So there, I only at least 20 million dollars to buy me a seat. I already have 3 dollars from my last trip. =) I wonder if they would give me discounts like shoebuy coupons when I beg them that, “hey, this is not just a fancy; this is my lifelong dream–the purpose of my existence!” Or maybe I should just wait for Oprah to make my wish come true. She makes things happen, right?

A thought crossed my mind. Which would be easier to find in my lifetime: (a) the secret to flying or (b) 20-35 million dollars? Oh, well. Guess I’d stick to flying.

 

photo from the web

 

just a dream

Because I have so many things to say, or rather, because I have nothing to say, I am now sharing not what’s happening in my life, but what happened in my dream last night.

It was a weird dream. Or at least I do not know what to make of it. I was in a coffee shop with people I know, but only as acquaintances. Even while we were on the open area, the temperature was cold for my tolerance. Then I saw a childhood friend, the one I’ve been with when I was in LA last April, and it seemed like we and some friends have a plan that night. So I went with them and walked around the neighborhood of houses with no fences.

As we were walking, they wanted to have cigarettes, and I volunteered to buy for them at the nearest 711. When I got there, the store was full of African Americans, those that looked like gangsters; I wondered why but did not give it much thought. At the cashier, I asked for a pack of cigarette, and when he was asking for payment, I was surprised that he was asking for dollars! I panickingly searched through my pouch, and all I have are peso bills!

I didn’t know I was in America. I had no idea how I got there; I have neither briefcases nor extra clothes. I had no idea why I was there; I have no reason to be there.

I guess we speak to ourselves through our dreams. They say that dreams were born of inner desires. If I have to make something out of it, perhaps it is that I need a break, again. Or I want to disappear, again, among people strangers to me, in a far, far away land…

 

photo from the web

 

Then again, it might be just a dream.

 

looking forward

I bought a book last April; I knew I couldn’t read it anymore until the first semester ends (at that time, I was still finishing a documentary/commentary on the existence of aliens by Zecharia Sitchin). But I still bought it…so that I have something to look forward to.

I have read through all of Anne Rice’s vampires (and absolutely fell in love with them) and decided to start one of her older books on witches (published in 1990), specifically the Mayfair Witches. Amazon books describes it:

In this engrossing and hypnotic tale of witchcraft and the occult spanning four centuries, we meet a great dynasty of witches–a family given to poetry and incest, to murder and philosophy, a family that over the ages is haunted by a powerful, dangerous and seductive being.

Anne Rice recounts:

The first in the Mayfair Witches series, The Witching Hour introduces the fictional Mayfair family of New Orleans, generations of male and female witches. This tight-knit and deeply connected family, where a death of one strengthens the others with his/her knowledge. One Mayfair witch per generation is also designated to receive the powers of “the man,” known as Lasher. Lasher gives the witches gifts, excites them, and protects them. Unsure as to exactly what this spirit is, the Mayfair clan knows him variously as a protector, a god-like figure, a sexual being, and the image of death. Lasher’s current witch is Deirdre, who lies catatonic from psycological shock treatments.

 

  

I can’t wait to get my hands on this book. I need to be bewitched again.