The Time I Went to the Astronaut Party

Y’ALL.

Today, there’s no Jesus or high-moral argument. There isn't even a moral. I just want to tell you a story. A funny story in which I embarrass myself. Because, well, if I had a dollar for every story in which I embarrass myself, I would be Mark Zuckerberg.

I’m going to tell you the story of the astronaut party.

WAIT. YOU KNOW ASTRONAUTS?

No. My husband does work around space stuff, but I’m not on a first-name basis with any of them. I do a pretty good job of stalking some of them in the grocery store though if I do say so myself.

THEN HOW DID YOU GET INVITED?

It’s complicated. But suffice it to say, we didn’t know any of them when we got invited, and we went with a group of about 6 of my husband’s work friends.

WHERE WAS THIS PARTY?

One of the astronaut’s houses. No, I don’t remember the address.

Ok, onto the story. We got there and we have to park really far away. We realized this party will be...large. Everyone seemed to be in the backyard, so we bypass the house entirely and go through the fence. This was not a quaint garden party. There were at least 75 people there and 2 tables full of liquor bottles. That’s when I realized this party would be………..interesting.

We walked around and our friends find some friends, and they start talking. BUT they’re talking about work stuff which I don’t care anything about, so I go exploring. Because don’t you want to know what an astronaut’s house looks like?!?!!?

Spoiler alert: It looked normal. I was looking at all the pictures on the wall, which included a lot of airplanes because most astronauts start off as air force test pilots. Plus a lot of normal family stuff like really embarrassing mid-nineties Sears family portraits.

This guy -- about 50 -- came up next to me. He was wearing a yellow hawaiian shirt and a unicorn backpack. Yes. You read that right.  I began a few witty remarks about his attire, he told me the story behind it, and we just carried on talking and laughing. Then it started….getting….weird.  By about 10 minutes in, this man is definitely hitting on me. He is 50. I am 23.

I started talking a lot and loudly about my wonderful husband. I slowly walked towards the door. Because I was still trying to be polite and all. Thankfully, my husband walked in the door just in time, saying he’s been wondering where I was.  Under my breath, I told him, “Get me away from that guy; he is a little too interested in me.”

After he casually ushered me away to a safe distance, he bursts out laughing. “That’s one of the astronauts!” Not so much the first astronaut experience I was hoping for BUT WHATEVER.

We found our friends outside and continued talking to people, and hanging out with my husband’s friends, who, are surprisingly cool. I won’t say we were the only people not drinking, but we were definitely not drinking and it seemed like everyone else was getting wilder and wilder and wilder.  

At some point, all the astronauts gathered on the porch and said thanks to everyone who worked on the mission and told all the stories that were a little too crazy to tell on CNN. There were actually quite a few. No, I don’t remember any of the stories. And even if I did, I would not publish them. Cuz I ain’t no narc.

After that, they cut a huge cake and gave a piece to everyone. Everyone kept partying and having fun and, most importantly, drinking. Eventually things got a little too wild and I became the “we gotta go” girl. That’s the girl that rounds up her friends and gets them to leave the bar/club/party before bad decisions are made.

I’d almost got everyone rounded up but we were still looking for our friend Chris. I mean have you ever had a friend that will just disappear on you?? That was Chris this day. Finally I found him, chatting up this girl in an incredibly revealing outfit. Now, I was younger, and more judgmental (fortunately God has rubbed that ugly stuff out of me since then). The way I shared this information was I turned to my friends and said (in a voice that only they could hear) “Look! There’s Chris! Talking to that slutty chick!” (Ugh, it grosses me out just to type it. It was not kind or nice and I wouldn’t say it now. Just want to make that clear. This is old me.)

One of my friends laughed and said in a very low voice “that’s the lead flight director for this mission, maybe don’t call her ‘some slutty chick’.”  

OH MY GOSH. I COULD DIE. I WAS SO EMBARRASSED. Thank you Jesus only my friends who know me heard my comment.

Anyway, just as things were getting really crazy, we grabbed Chris and left. Later we heard everyone ended up in the pool with their clothes on.

And that’s the story of the astronaut party!! I will never forget it!!! It was the craziest party I’ve ever been to, and it was actually a lot of fun when I wasn’t being hit on by a man twice my age or embarrassing myself horribly.