Travel writing is a gas, but I haven't been abroad in a while and I feel like pulling back from the Memoria (name of a Russian novel sitting on my shelf at home that I've never read but bought because it looks ancient and I thought it would lend an humbling tone to my literary collection to have a grim tome of the steppes) and talking a bit about life in general, with perhaps a few asides here and there to the adventures I didn't mention from the UK. So, we really must press on...
Exam season has fallen upon North Carolina State University like it wasn't even exam season. I'm not afraid of my classes; I'm afraid of my research. I can't tell whether it was a mistake to join a $25 million grant project doing computational modeling of cellulose spinning transmembrane proteins because it seems that whenever I hit some roadblock trying to convince our modeling program that it should do something other than fill me with the intense desire to leap from Dr. Irving's tiny window or headbutt a couple of vertical pencils, some kind of breakthrough will occur, and fill me with an orgasmic satisfaction. Then, it happens all over again. Is that what stress is? Mood swings like Kirby in Supersmash bros.? I really screwed myself over taking it for credit though; it puts me on a deadline that isn't fixed but lives in an evil flux that just makes me want to do the work less. I should be getting paid, but I'm afraid to demand anything while a grade hangs by a poorly tied noose. I need to go see my chem professor from last year; wonderful guy, world traveler. Also, does all of his theoretical work by hand; no joke, he writes everything out. It's nuts, and I want to be able to do that. I need to either do something experimental with human tissue engineering, which would be choice, or get on hand written work. If anyone knows someone who is calculating protein folding on paper, let me know.
One thing that I do have to benefit form working with my current mentor is the possibility of a position in a Denmark lab over the end of the summer doing DNA films again. This work was mildly interesting and they say Denmark is pleasant, but more importantly, it puts me close to Scotland for a few weeks after summer school and before the programs starts, which is where I am planning my next, potentially disastrous adventure.
You see, I have this friend who is also a lover of the outdoors and we made a pact in the Park Scholar lounge (A pact that thus can't be broken) to apply for a National Geographic Young Explorer's Grant before we both turn 25 and then become such iconic adventurers that Nat Geo can't help but offer us a TV show. The best chance I think that I have of winning one of these is to apply under the exploration category for "Adventures of an Epic Nature," which means that I have to start building my explorer's resume. That's where Scotland comes in. I love everything there is to mention about this country, from the sheep to the haggis, from the sunrises off Arthur's Seat to the free shows on the strip (I tipped in Kuna), and I want to go back. I saw a Man vs. Wild episode where Bear Grylls stranded himself in the Scottish highlands where weather can go from foggy to blizzard to monsoon within the space of twenty minutes and the terrain is filled with Mordor-like rock formations and unforgiving sinkholes. Obviously, I cannot pass up this opportunity. I'm thinking about having my cousins direct me to a pilot who can drop me off in the middle of nowhere with my pack and a video camera, with the sole intent of making it to Glasgow before my luck runs out. If I make it back, I will have an epic chronicle of dedicated research in one of the world's most hostile environments that I feel would add some weight to my resume.
If anyone has some other suggestions as to how to augment my resume, I'm welcome to your ideas. Open cage diving with the Great Whites of Cape Hope? A trek along the old grizzly trails in Alaska? Trying to island hop the pacific rim in a kayak? All the while taking notes and filming of course. Whatever; throw it out there.
It's eleven O'clock. Bedtime. Go Scotland. You rock.
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