“I can find a good career at this museum, or at least see if they fixed that mislabeled raccoon I complained about.”

May 18, 2012 Comments Off read Attractions, California, Pacific, Travel, USA, West

On our second day in San Diego, Jason and I visited the Natural History Museum in Balboa Park, arriving in time to see the Skulls exhibit but thankfully missing the Titanic exhibit–the fewer times I’m reminded of the three hours of my life I wasted watching a movie about a selfish woman who tells rambling stories about banging in jalopies, getting drunk, and showing her boobs to people, who then throws her legacy into the ocean, the better.

First, Jason made friends with a dinosaur.

Next, we saw a display of a velociraptor being torn apart by hungry rats. I have problems dealing with the idea of the flamboyant assassin of the dinosaurs being eaten by small mammals, yes, but I have even more of a problem dealing with the fact that Liberacesaur is being devoured by animals with such derpy looks sculpted onto their faces. Particularly that guy on the left.

I don’t even remember what this animal is, but riding it was far more important than learning anything.

Then, Jason made friends with a manatee.

Upstairs was the exhibit about skulls. Surrounding the area was a blackboard that people were encouraged to draw on–I honestly don’t know how they thought any good could come of this. I’m shocked that we had the self control not to draw wangs all over everything.

In the skulls exhibit, I learned that rhino poachers are extra super huge douchebags as the “horns” they kill the animal for are just lumps of keratin (hair and nail protein). Good job, guys, maybe next time you can make your magic potions when you clip your toenails instead of making all the world’s rhinos extinct.

Your compass is broken.

Also upstairs, they had a tank filled with animal bones that were being cleaned by their “helpers”, flesh-eating beetles. It smelled about like what you might expect a warm tank of bugs munching on fetid tissue might smell like. After we were done checking out the skulls, it was time to go downstairs to watch a 3D movie. We’d carefully considered our options and decided to go with “Sea-Rex, the T-Rex of the seas” because we felt like it would deliver on all levels, but especially on the blood and gore level (but always with an eye toward science, mind).

What we got was a 3D movie about a creepy late middle age time traveling guy hitting on a young teenage girl. I am shocked that none of his “Let me show you” statements ended with “my penis”. Also, what’s with this “T-Rex of the seas” bullshit? Is this the only way they could get people interested? I watched an entire film about it and I barely remember that the actual name of the creature is the Mosasaur because it was blocked out by the phrase “T-Rex of the sea”. Granted, I could have just been crabby while watching said film as I was hungry and there was no concessions stand available to sell me the “T-Rex of hot dogs” or the “Ankylosaur of sour patch kids”. There was also no blood or gore. Disappointing on all levels–but if you don’t believe me, now you can own it on blu-ray! We were very nearly running out of time but decided to be a little late to our next engagement so we could see the minerals exhibit. “Formed by unimaginable heat and pressure deep inside the earth, minerals explode in a vast pa–ugh.” This bra made of precious gems and metals makes my bras seem both comfortable and affordable by comparison.

It bears mentioning that this is the only section of the museum that contained armed guards, but we were still allowed to touch many things–and everything we could touch, we DID touch. I was especially keen to lay my hands on a meteorite as I like the idea of handling something that was hurtling through space (No, I do not have an astronaut fetish). Since we visited San Diego, Jason purchased a small meteorite and I go handle it almost compulsively. I’m sure I’d be typing with it in my lap right now if it didn’t weigh so damn much.

This piece is called “Neptune’s Daughters”. I think it’s time to call CPS.

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Beach House Day Three: “If you can’t start behaving, they are going to kick us out of this museum!”

June 16, 2010 23 Comments read Attractions, Oregon, Pacific, Travel, USA, West

After the Cranberry Museum, we hopped over to the Maritime Museum to cause more trouble. And potentially learn something. But mostly cause more trouble.

^{We lost the supplies? We have resort to cannibalism?}

^{No, no, rescue is surely around the corner!}

^{Quick! Let’s commandeer this ship while the crew sleeps!}

^{Set a course for Barbados! Cabana boys, here we come! …I am still thinking about cannibalism.}

^{I am the best stealth captain ever! Muahahahaha!}

^{Help! Evan is being attacked by a fearsome octopus!}

^{Quick! Grab onto something, anything to pull us aboard!}

^{We’ll each have to demonstrate our specific skills in order to earn an honest living aboard the ship.}

^{Some of us are less naturally skilled than others and have to rely on the natural loneliness and drunkenness of sailors.}

^{How long is going to take for them to feed us? Crikey! …I am still thinking about cannibalism.}

^{Soooooo….hungry!}

^{I don’t want to do any work, per se. I just want three hots and a cot.}

^{Quick, cut the power to create confusion so we can escape with a rowboat and provisions!}

^{A bye-bye, everybody!}

^{How could these sweet faces possibly wreak havoc on a perfectly nice museum?}

^{…Nevermind.}

Beach House Day Three: “Be good or I’ll take you to the Cranberry Museum!”

June 16, 2010 18 Comments read Attractions, Nom or Vom, Pacific, Travel, USA, Washington, West

Unfortunately, given our shenanigans the evening prior, we had already behaved poorly enough to deserve the Cranberry Museum. And if we didn’t deserve it THEN, we (read: Evan and I) certainly deserved it after what we did Monday morning. Monday morning, Memorial Day proper, Emily sat up with a start and shouted ‘BALD EAGLE!’. She has a…rather contentious relationship with the eagles in Long Beach. Namely, she wants to photograph them, and they mostly don’t want to be photographed, by her in particular. So when she saw this eagle flying down to perch on the post marking the property line, she ran out to the beach with her camera, still in her pajamas, clutching her waistband so her pants wouldn’t fall down in her excited rush. I decided that it would be prime time for a marshmallow gun ambush. I swear that if this photo extended to the left just a bit further, you would see me standing in the window, plotting.

Evan and I crept downstairs and outside, waiting behind bushes with our guns. Emily was so excited that she was practically skipping down the path back to the house. And then we struck.

Her scream was bloodcurdling and entirely satisfying; there’s video proof but I can’t embed it here. And it put me square on the naughty list.

So let me tell you about some damn cranberries.

Firstly, they are boring.
Secondly, they are boring as HELL.
Thirdly, this ‘museum and research laboratory’ is owned by Ocean Spray (a fact which would no doubt thrill my grandma, who gets very excited when she has a point of reference like, say, Dole. “Are those orchards owned by Dole? Do you think they have contracts with Dole? I think they would make a lot of money if they sold to Dole.”), which means they are biased regarding cranberries, their interestingness, and what exactly constitutes a ‘museum’ and ‘research lab’.
Fourthly, “When the Pilgrims first settled in America, it was the Indians who introduced them to cranberries. The Pilgrims thought that the drooping pink blossom of the berry looked like the downturned head of a crane, so they called it a “crane-berry.” Later, the name “crane-berry” was shortened to cranberry. From the very beginning, our forefathers considered cranberries very important. They used them for food and medicine. And to this day, the cranberry is still considered unique. Its juice has a flavor that is naturally and powerfully concentrated. And it’s the cranberry taste that makes our drinks uniquely refreshing and that gives you the goodness and flavor you expect from Ocean Spray.”

If you guessed that a room full of pictures on the walls plus Ocean Spray propoganda plus a gift shop constitutes a museum AND a research lab, you would be correct. But wait, there’s more! It’s not technically a museum until there are people inside, being bored by the exhibits. It was time for me to shake things up a bit. As part of the shaking process, here I am, having my hind end picked by a suction picker.

However, it turns out I’m not the only one who decided there needed to be some shaking-up going on.

Really? Touching, wearing, and throwing have been problems in the past? I could see touching. Or wearing. But throwing?

Just look at all these fine products that Ocean Spray provides to the cranberry-loving public! They even label it ‘marketing’, as if perhaps I was confused as to the entire purpose of the museum’s existence.

We didn’t even get the benefits of the Ocean Spray movie, though it was prior to 4:30. What kind of museum are you running here, Ocean Spray? Oh wait, we already established, a crappy one.

Did you know that cranberries were an important part of the war effort, that they spurred the soldiers on to kill their enemies? Wait, maybe it’s the potent mix of coffee, cigarettes, and candy. I know that just the thought of fruitcake makes me want to punch a guy.

Of course, with any food-based ‘museum’ plus gift shop, there’s going to be food for sale. And some of it is destined to be judged by the internet at large. Poll #1579393 Nom or Vom: Ketchup? Catsup? Are you here to solve my ketchup problem? Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 25 Would you eat this?

View Answers NOM NOM NOM 11 (44.0%)VOM VOM VOM 14 (56.0%)

I could have gone to inspect the cranberry bog in person, but…eh.