Stargazing, Meteor Showers, and Me

Today’s Monday Memories is brought to you by FIRSTS. First loves, first kisses, first free ride in a police car, first meteor shower…you know…whatever you want as long as it’s a first.

Monday Memories

In honor of the Lyrid Meteor Shower this weekend/last night/this morning/whatever, I’d like to take a moment to remember my very first (and I think only…) meteor shower.

I was in college. A sophomore. In a city. In the middle of Cornfield, IL. And there was going to be a meteor shower. Like every quasi-teen-girl in the history of ever, the idea of watching a crap load of shooting stars is ridiculously romanticized. Especially when the girl in question has a ridiculous crush on one of her dude friends. One of her dude friends who suggests an evening of meteor gazing.

OBVIOUSLY this was fate calling.

Except that we were a part of a fearsome threesome (Get that dirty image out of your minds, blog friends. Not THAT kind of threesome. Just FRIENDS. UGH. It’s like you don’t even know me.)

And so we made a plan. Robert, Cletus and I would venture out to the cornfields to watch the stars fly. I was so excited I thought I might pee myself. (Not really; that’s gross. It’s just an EXPRESSION, guys.)

Except that much like this weekend, it was FUCKING cold out.  (Don’t even get me started on the torrential flooding rains turned snowy icy death pellets two days later.) So we stayed up all night with a South Park marathon and left in the wee hours of the morning to watch the shower of meteors. After packing a comforter and some folding chairs, we were set.

We drove to the middle of nowhere, “parked” the car, and set up the chairs. In the middle of a dark two lane highway in the cornfields. And watched the stars. And it was GLORIOUS. For 5 whole minutes. Before both Cletus and Robert gave the fuck up. 5 minutes of stars and those whiny bitches were DONE?!? (I mean that with the utmost sincerity of love for my pals). I sat out there shivering for another 15 minutes before they made me pack up and get into the car.

I watched the stars out the window all the way back to Peoria in awe. This were some amazingly beautiful performance put on by the galaxy. And I wanted to soak it all in.

But the romanticized part about stargazing with one’s crush? Fucking ridiculous. That shit should be shared with EVERYONE. Except that now that I’m nearing 30, I’m old and cranky and can’t bear to think of waking up before 6:15 in the morning. Or going to bed after 11:30 at night. So no stars for me this week. But to all you stargazers out there, I’m with you in my mind.

Go visit Lily at It’s a Dome Life for more Monday Memories! If you’d like to join us next week, our topic is going to be: “Write about something you collected as a child.”

Ever seen a meteor shower, friends? How about a shooting star?

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Comments

  1. I wish I could stay up all night to stargaze…or wake up early. I know I’d be hitting snooze the whole time. Getting up in the middle of the night sounds so fun until the alarm clock goes off!

  2. Hahahaha! I remember this incident. I also remember that I was sleeping. Because I was old even then.

  3. Hmmm, haven’t done much stargazing for awhile. When I was a kid in the San Gabriel Valley, on a smogless night me and my sister would lie down on the lawn look at the stars and constellations such as the Big Dipper. I loved sleepovers with my friends (not my sister) and being outside at night which was ok with my parents. Seems to be something missing with “kidnappers” and soccer mom parents that’s been lost. 🙁

  4. I’m not at all a night person, but I love looking up at the stars. My favorite part of camping is being away from the light pollution of the cities and really being able to see the night sky the way it should be seen.

  5. I’m in my early thirties so I can assure you that you are not old. I can also assure you that if you keep up that nonsense talk, I will punch you in the crotch.

    • So the next month of my turning 30 blathering better be all happy and upbeat so as to avoid a knuckle in my va-jay?

      • Your readers are rough, Dude. Turning 30 was hard for me. I still cry about it even though I am only 2 years away from 40. I still feel like I am 28. I’ll probably still be blathering on about turning 30 a few days before my 80th birthday. That’s how much it bugged (bugs?) me.

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