Sometimes I get really into a certain topic.
Like really, really into a topic.
There's usually no rhyme or reason for this. I just randomly stumble across a piece of information which sneakily steals my attention and then BOOM, ten hours of Google later I'm suddenly an expert in said topic. Excuse me, a top expert. I immerse myself in said topic and can't stop reading about it, learning about it, and stalking it (creep creep) (promise no people stalking). I guess you could say I have obsessions.
My latest obsession is over the start of the space program.
I KNOW. AREN'T WE ALL OBSESSED WITH THAT?!
As I mentioned one or four times before, I started watching The Astronaut's Wives Club. Which led to me Googling the cuh-rap outta the Mercury 7 and everything or anything related. I could not get enough. Which led to my mother buying the book for me (probably in an attempt to shut me up). Which led to long discussions with my grandfather who worked with NASA in its early years. Which led to YouTube-ing news coverage videos from the launches and blah blah blah, promise I'm not crazy.
I was about to type out that there are several reasons why I am obsessed with NASA's early years, but then I realized I couldn't think of one legitimate reason I became so intrigued. I just am. 'Cause my brain said so, that's why! Alan, Gus, Wally, Gordo, Deke, John, and Scott. Louise, Betty, Jo, Trudy, Marge, Annie, and Rene. I guess you could say we're all biffles and I am the eighth of Mercury 7, obviously. I mean I do live in Houston so Houston, we do not have a problem with this intrigue of mine.
I'm obsessed. You get it. Moving on.
Reasons my obsession makes no sense:
I wrote an entire post once about how I was a terrible, disappointing wife. The sixties would have destroyed my set-up of no cooking, all eating, and flat, greasy ponytail hair. Sometimes I wonder just how those women got their hair so flouncy, bouncy and fun. And their cat eyes so perfectly curved. And their jello salads so...well, jello salads are just gross.
I am terrified of the thought of space. The thought of being straight up shot off into oblivion. I panic on roller coasters that have drops in them so ain't nobody (me) got time to have a permanent stomach-in-throat feeling. But I'm sure I wouldn't be the first person to wet my pants in an astronaut's suit, amiright or am I right?
Let's ignore the facts that I could never be an astronaut for important reasons of intellectual levels. We'll stick to it's because I'm scared of stomach-in-throat feeling. That makes more sense.
On that note, the thought of having my husband blasted off into the open ends of space would make me sick to my stomach. I am a top notch worrier. Like I could get a medal for worrying and then worry that I wasn't worrying enough. I worry when Freddie rides his bike without a helmet so I can't imagine how I feel with him shooting off to space. Although...space suits have helmets so maybe I'd be better with him doing that on a week night...
So here, I'll go from weird blogger to good little blogger in a jiffy and make this a book review post.
The Astronaut's Wive Club: read it.
While you're at it you should probably read Aziz Ansari's Modern Romance.
And all of Liane Moriarty's books.
Back to weird blogging...
What are you obsessed/fascinated/intriqued with in the totally not weird at all obsessed kind of way?