My Life Before Mars was created to share and document the many provoking conversations and surprising responses to my passion to apply for Mars citizenship through Mars-One, and the events of my life that lead me to unhesitatingly make that choice.
This is also a record I would like to make for my child. I don't know what is going to happen--but I cannot not pursue this dream. I am more than a mother, I am a person with passions and curiosities. Whatever happens, my greatest hope is my son will someday understand why I needed to pursue Mars, see that it is necessary for one to pursue one's bliss, and that the alternative to this is quite ugly.
I am also keeping this information from him as long as possible--he is young and I do not want to scare him. (Shhhhhhh........)
This is also a record I would like to make for my child. I don't know what is going to happen--but I cannot not pursue this dream. I am more than a mother, I am a person with passions and curiosities. Whatever happens, my greatest hope is my son will someday understand why I needed to pursue Mars, see that it is necessary for one to pursue one's bliss, and that the alternative to this is quite ugly.
I am also keeping this information from him as long as possible--he is young and I do not want to scare him. (Shhhhhhh........)
January 1, 2014
The Day Before yesterday
The day before yesterday, Monday, December 30, I received 2 emails on my iPad I had been looking for since September. They were from Mars One and, as usual, they came in a matching set. For some reason, every time I received a newsletter or an update from Mars One, it came as a pair, exactly 9 minutes apart--twins! I always scrutinized both, careful to make sure they were the same They were always the same.
Mars One had claimed in September that it would be informing us applicants by the end of 2013 as to whether we had been accepted into Stage 2 of the astronaut program. By December 30th, I was beginning to sigh heavily and assume they were wrong about their timeline. And then suddenly, December 30, 2013 a new set arrived. Could this be it? I was excited. I always opened the email delivered the earlier time--it was only fair, it got here first. I scanned it quickly and then, when I realized THIS WAS IT I went back to the top to read.
"Dear Mars One Applicant, Did you know....blah, blah, blah--"
I was out.
Mars One had claimed in September that it would be informing us applicants by the end of 2013 as to whether we had been accepted into Stage 2 of the astronaut program. By December 30th, I was beginning to sigh heavily and assume they were wrong about their timeline. And then suddenly, December 30, 2013 a new set arrived. Could this be it? I was excited. I always opened the email delivered the earlier time--it was only fair, it got here first. I scanned it quickly and then, when I realized THIS WAS IT I went back to the top to read.
"Dear Mars One Applicant, Did you know....blah, blah, blah--"
I was out.
My stomach dropped and my body went into a subtle form of shock and not so subtle form of denial. What? I was astounded--cut after the first round? My eyes started tearing up and my mind quickly made plans to "handle" the situation: how could I best suffer this indignation? I was down and ready to stay down until I could process this rejection. Whatever schedule I had for the day, I quickly dismissed it. I could change my clothes? get in bed? wallow in self-pity? watch horror movies? eat some things? cry? pray?
I started to feel like I might be hyperventilating--was I hyperventilating? As I considered my hyperventilation status i also pondered whether I wanted to encourage this hyperventilation or try and put a stop to it,
Then, I remembered the other email. The younger twin. This was no time to break tradition. Without a hope, expectation or even a thought in my head (beyond who I was going to call and gift with my despair--probably Julia) I opened it up. This one had my name on it. "Dear Ms. Gillian Rene Gontard, You and only 1,057 other aspiring astronauts around the globe..."
I started to feel like I might be hyperventilating--was I hyperventilating? As I considered my hyperventilation status i also pondered whether I wanted to encourage this hyperventilation or try and put a stop to it,
Then, I remembered the other email. The younger twin. This was no time to break tradition. Without a hope, expectation or even a thought in my head (beyond who I was going to call and gift with my despair--probably Julia) I opened it up. This one had my name on it. "Dear Ms. Gillian Rene Gontard, You and only 1,057 other aspiring astronauts around the globe..."
My brow FURROWED in a way my brow had never furrowed before. My eyes grew narrow and narrower still. I pursed my lips, a great exaggerated pursing, as I read THIS email. It seemed to be saying that out of over 200,000 applicants worldwide, they had narrowed it to 1,057---and I was one of them. I had made it to the next round...
I did NOT know what to think or feel. I had just planned a huge pity party for myself, essentially intellectually assessing how far I wanted to take my despair; but, if I was IN....I didn't need to bother with the party plans. My emotions and thoughts were stretched taut across a vast space of ambivalence.
Honestly, all I was really thinking at this point was WTF?
I jumped into moderate action: call Julia!
No answer.
Call Julia.
No answer.
Call Julia. No answer. (My hope was wherever she was, bathroom, outside, wherever, that eventually she would hear the phone. All typical social protocols were off.
Text Julia.
(Texts: "Julia", send, "Julia", send, "Julia", send, "Julia", send "Jew" send. "Lee" send. "Ah". send...)
I watched as a steady stream of pale blue bubbles scrolled down my iPad.
And then she responded! ("lol")
"Talk", send. "Phone", send. "Now", send.
So we talked, (Well, she talked--I talked and choked and spewed and vented). We discussed, mused and conjectured...which email was the TRUE email? Older or younger? After a time we decided two things: One, the second email had my NAME on it, so that was a point in the younger twin's favor and Two, they were going to be sending out more info to the Stage 2ers by January 6th. So, at the very least, I would have to wait a week. (Mars One is not so keen on encouraging response emails, and I don't blame them.) Ok. One week. I could do that. At this point I was too exhausted to be anything less than resigned.
Still talking to Julia, An alert tone went off on my iPad. I had received another email; from who, I didn't know but it had the word Mars in the subject line. I told Julia to hang on a sec as I touched it. It was from a local news channel. Mars One had given them a list of local people who had made the cut, and they wanted to interview me.
I was in...
...and suddenly I was that much closer to Mars.
I did NOT know what to think or feel. I had just planned a huge pity party for myself, essentially intellectually assessing how far I wanted to take my despair; but, if I was IN....I didn't need to bother with the party plans. My emotions and thoughts were stretched taut across a vast space of ambivalence.
Honestly, all I was really thinking at this point was WTF?
I jumped into moderate action: call Julia!
No answer.
Call Julia.
No answer.
Call Julia. No answer. (My hope was wherever she was, bathroom, outside, wherever, that eventually she would hear the phone. All typical social protocols were off.
Text Julia.
(Texts: "Julia", send, "Julia", send, "Julia", send, "Julia", send "Jew" send. "Lee" send. "Ah". send...)
I watched as a steady stream of pale blue bubbles scrolled down my iPad.
And then she responded! ("lol")
"Talk", send. "Phone", send. "Now", send.
So we talked, (Well, she talked--I talked and choked and spewed and vented). We discussed, mused and conjectured...which email was the TRUE email? Older or younger? After a time we decided two things: One, the second email had my NAME on it, so that was a point in the younger twin's favor and Two, they were going to be sending out more info to the Stage 2ers by January 6th. So, at the very least, I would have to wait a week. (Mars One is not so keen on encouraging response emails, and I don't blame them.) Ok. One week. I could do that. At this point I was too exhausted to be anything less than resigned.
Still talking to Julia, An alert tone went off on my iPad. I had received another email; from who, I didn't know but it had the word Mars in the subject line. I told Julia to hang on a sec as I touched it. It was from a local news channel. Mars One had given them a list of local people who had made the cut, and they wanted to interview me.
I was in...
...and suddenly I was that much closer to Mars.
Check back soon for the next installment!
Giving Credit where credit is due
I would like to thank the Unknowable Divines and the Exacting Scientifics--two sides of the same coin---and my mother, my son, and my country.