Today, as part of Classroom DC at my school, my class went to the National Air and Space Museum. I've been there several times before, living so near to the nation's capital, but today I was looking for something in particular. The Williams WR19 turbofan jet engine. It's the world's smallest jet engine to date, but that's not why I was so eager to see it. It's been used in several early jetpacks and flying platforms, and right now, it's the best candidate for a fan for my hoverboard.
Today was the second day of intersession at my school. It's a small private school, and they give us a sort of two 2-week break in between semesters, after the winter break. We do one "class" for those two weeks that's not really a class. There's no homework, and we don't get graded. I'm in "Classroom DC", which is where we trudge around Washington, DC looking at museums until our feet have been killing us for at least an hour. The problem with that, as well, is that... Well, we often split up in the museums, and when I don't receive specific instructions on where to go, I shut down. It's like being in the middle of the woods and the camp leader hands out GPSs just before you get there, and everyone else has one but you. Everyone else knows where to go, but you have no idea what to do, or where to go, and you know that a step any one direction could get you more lost then you already are.
From 2002 to 2005, my family lived in Peru, a third-world South American country. My dad's work required travel, and we weren't about to be left behind. One day, for whatever reason, they decided to hand out baby chicks at my preschool. Obviously, the animal ownership laws were a little different there. Now, normally I might think about just taking one of these home, but when a four-year-old is holding a baby chick in their hands, it pretty much crowds out all other thought.
It all started with a New Year's Resolution.
One night, I was sitting awake in bed. Usually, I would be asleep, but tonight, our neighbor had generously decided to leave on his porch lights, which are approximately, in a study performed by college scientists, a million bajillion units of brightness. Unexpectedly, I was unable to sleep, leaving me no option but to think. If my train of thought that night was a real train, it would be a bullet train going at 300 miles an hour, not necessarily on the tracks, possibly barreling through New York.
Colin O'Donnell, an awesome, inventing, gaming Aspergers kid on his various exploits.