I love when NASA announces that they will be making an announcement. The end result is always a day or so of predictable emotional tumult: wild-eyed hope (“Aliens? It’s probably aliens. No, can’t be. A manned Mars mission, then? Must be.”), followed by self-deprecating mockery of that selfsame hope (sarcastic tweets along the lines of “Tomorrow, we leave for Mars.”), then bargaining (“Well, it could be liquid water, couldn’t it? Oh please let it be liquid water, I’d be okay with it not being a manned mission as long as it was water.”), waiting and speculating (“Geologists, eh? That’s got to mean liquid water… Or maybe like, lichen? Just because they don’t have a biologist there right now doesn’t mean it’s not lichen…. Well, yes it does.”), and finally acceptance (Decent evidence for liquid water.)
Needless to say, I’m pretty excited about this. I believe I’m on the record as saying that Elon Musk is going to fly us to Mars and everything will be fine, la la la (most recently in response to either excessive and ultimately unnecessary GRE studying or perhaps the debt thing). But I’m also really happy that the announcement happened precisely when it did.
Have you ever found something at exactly at the right moment in your life? I don’t mean the right year, the right season–I mean the right minute of the right day. For instance, I’ve never read any Virginia Woolf. Whether or not this makes me a sad excuse for an English major is up to you. Way back in May, I borrowed my brother’s copy of Mrs. Dalloway (apparently added to our high school’s curriculum after my departure). Then I was distracted by reading all of A Song of Ice and Fire, and there was something else in there, too….