Excitement

I was chatting with my grandfather over dinner about the magic and wonder of Google, when my parents arrived home from an outing. It was a temple dinner type thing, for the executive board members of their temple [I subscribe to a far less religious religion, but they are both some degree of Jewry]. There, they told me, they had met a member of a computing center at Harvard University. And, as these things do [or so the folks tell me], I came up. In the course of conversation, this esteemed member of the Harvard research staff explained that he worked on neural imaging, and that it might be possible to find me a research internship at Harvard University, working with neuroscience and computers.

Now, my current plans are to major in some variation of neuroscience and computer science, with an end goal of graduate work in prosthetics, and the interface of the human brain the the computer. So the idea of (1) working on it now instead of later and (2) working on it at Harvard fills me with a maniacal kind of joy that makes me want to cackle in the most maniacal way possible. No really: I'm so excited I find it difficult to keep from shouting out platitudes about fate fortune karma and the existence of a God or something.

In any event: I've set the wheels in motion. By this I mean I've manned up, cleaned my room, returned a defective laptop computer keyboard, sent email to the aforementioned Harvard researcher, and prepared to reinstate through all the proper mediums contact with the MIT admissions department to discuss the use of my social networking tool: Nebula.

In the meanwhile, I shall cram biology into my head as fast as I possibly can with the help of my dear friend Fred, biologist extraordinare, who will be teaching me as much of AP Bio as can be taught in the remaining time before Fall semester starts [indeed @ UMass Lowell, as my schedule arrived today -- more on that in a later post]. Methinks my summer is finally about to leave the stage of total rest and relaxation to the point of stagnation, and enter the stage that I know so well: the part where I fly spinning out of control into something cool.

Ah yes, it feels good to be out of control again. I'd almost forgotten what it felt like.

;)