Yes, I was drunk and texted my ex. Well, pic’d him, I guess. No message…just a cute-as-heck photo of me in the mirror, crooked smile, pale skin, oversized hoodie (Go Ducks!), *ahem* no pants *ahem*. Yes, it was suggestive. (That was (and no longer is) the point.)
Yes, I’m embarrassed.
Yes, I feel violated.
Yes, as you know if you’re here reading this, my screen was on, and if you flipped the image–I mean when my asshole ex (who is never, ever getting a pic of me again unless she buys one from the extra-planetary paparazzi) flipped the image–you could read “Sky in Europa” and could just make out the net address. Within an hour, she’d forwarded the address–not the photo (she does have some decency)–to a hundred close friends who, in turn, have way too many friends with devices and internet and free time. Go save cats or something, folks!
I considered moving this blog to a new address, but a few quick search terms would bring you right back. So here we go: yes, it’s Sky. Yes, it’s that Sky–the one who failed physics twice (clueless) and math once (weed). But, hey, I didn’t give up and passed them eventually and double-hey I’m brilliant at Bio and History and less-so-but-still-decent at Drawing and (duh) Photography.
Three-and-a-half areas of need for the first (wo)manned mission to, wait for it, EUROPA! (I’m counting History as half an area since geological history is not quite in my wheelhouse.)
I spent a month on the application. A lot of good writing in there, if I’m being immodest, but nothing I’m allowed to post. Folks may not know, but those contracts also serve as NDAs. The only thing I can say is my name, Europa, and “I applied.”
In a way, I’m glad there are more eyes on this blog because I set it up as a way to tie myself to my choices. Always, I commit to a bold action (like, say, sending a pantsless photo to an ex) and then, squinting at it in the light of day, I delete, rescind, forget. Making my intention public, here, was my way of forcing myself to stick with it. Some of you know my Mom died last year, and it spun me badly. When I settled, I reflected on life, my life–whether or not I was actually living it. Late at night and again in full daylight, I realized my answer was no.
I decided it was time to live.
A few days later, I emended that to: it’s time to live on Europa.
Sky of Europa 