
This launch was the hardest thing I've done in quite a long time, and I poured my heart out into every bit of my role. I hope it showed.
Ugh, so many thoughts... How do you explain the feeling of a once-in-a-lifetime moment? Or sad happiness? Fulfillment and trepidation all rolled into one? I have to at least try...

Two days before launch we met our Twitter Correspondents. People who had flown/driven in from all over the country especially for this event. Our hope had been to invite a few people to share in our experience and then pass it on to others. What happened was so much more - I'm at a loss for words. We started off the three-day launch event as strangers, followers online brought together by nerdiness and adventure. We left as friends - a community of people tied by experience, hope, photographs, drinks and conversation. Seeing their excitement renewed my own, and refreshed my appreciation for the awesome job I have. Sometimes standing on the inside, you see the guts and dirty bits so much you forget what those come together to form. While NASA isn't always shiny clean, it stands for dreams and I'm lucky to have a small part in it.


If you were there you know I cried like a baby, (a hungry, angry baby,) a stark change from my usual bouncing up and down. With the tears came the release of all the worry and stress. There were hugs all around and promises of libation and tex-mex for lunch. After sharing such an emotionally charged event with so many great people, it was hard to say goodbye. We'd come so far since day one, and it showed in the smiles and goofyness of the informal "interviews." Leaving Kennedy that day I felt like I was leaving something more than just a Tweetup...
While our production may not have been the grandest, our rocket unmanned, and our budget small, we shared our hearts. Thank you for being a part of our once-in-a-lifetime moment.