April 26, 2194 - 0200h ... We (yeah, I'm draggin' you with me on this) are now in hour 28 of this fabulous ordeal.
I couldn't sleep, even though I'm ri-futching-diculously exhausted. Who am I to ask for a few hours respite from this tedium in the hopes that I will awaken to the sight of a rescue ship outside?
What should we talk about ... Ah! Yes. Me!
Well, my father is - was the American-born Greek ambassador to the United States ... for Greece (1+1, carry the 9 ...). Domnic Costas. I did not know him at all well; he and my mother split up just before my 5th birthday. I have no idea if he's still alive somewhere. No reason to think he's not.
Mary Anderson, my mother, was actually the first person born on the Moon. They call her type "Lunarians", but some of us like to use the term "Loonies"; we're mature that way. Not many people are born on the moon anymore, though, except unexpectedly. Mom now lives on MortisCorp's Pensioner's Retreat, the 43rd moon orbiting Thanatos in 333-Izanagi. I haven't seen her in 6 years since her 155th birthday "gala" (attended by me, my sister and brother, and my aunt). Wow, I haven't even talked to Mom in almost 2 years.
Anyway ... me. Yapetus Costas. Yeah, that's right, my parents went there. In the 2070s, when mankind really started branching out into their solar system, parents began the ugly habit of naming their newborns after the planets and moons of Sol. All the gods and monsters of ancient Greek, Roman, Norse, and Japanese mythology were born anew. And once those cultures' sacred legends were picked clean, parents moved onto the pantheons of more obscure civilizations, and even borrowed from fiction. I actually have a childhood friend named Frodo.
My sister, Callista, was born in 2082, and my brother, Triton, was born in 2119. Their names, at least, are palatable. Not to mention that they are named after pretty moons. They also had a different father than me. I was named after a moon that is burnt (not literally) black on one side and a raw, chalky white on the other. "Crunchy on the outside, chewy in the middle!" That's me! My parents weren't astronomers; they obviously couldn't even pronounce "Iapetus" correctly. And they didn't want people calling me "Jap", so they didn't go with the alternate spelling either. So, for 25 years people have been calling me "Yap".
I hate my name so much I wish it had testicles so that I could punch it in the nuts.
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