Chad and Matt's Night at the Museum

Tonight was a special event at the Denver Museum of Nature and Science: Staff & Volunteer family night for the BodyWorlds exhibit. Woohoo!!

I took Matt and Gina and Chelsea and Davey. It was a total blast!

Even though we had so much fun I have compiled a mental list of things that will make our next plasticized dead body encounter even better because it will be A) hilarious, B) will totally bother those know-it-all science nerds behind me (serously? You're standing there telling your boyfriend about cochlea? I hope this isn't a first date.)(By the way - words like 'acetabulum' don't need to be brought up in casual conversation. Say 'hip socket'. Obscure words are obscure for a reason.)

Oh yeah. My list.

First: Beef jerky will need to be smuggled in. It would bring the queasiness that Davey was experiencing from the realm of mental to physical. Ha!

Second: Matt will be provided with a list of things he's NOT allowed to say. Example: When he sees a heart suspended in a glass case he is NOT allowed to start chanting "Kali Ma". To be fair - I should probably refrain from shouting out "that bifurcated penis just need a couple scoops of ice cream and chocolate syrup and it would look EXACTLY like a banana split!" . . . at least in front of old ladies.

Third: Gina and Davey need those little kid leashes (they totally kept wandering off. We found Gina forever drifting towards deformed organ displays and Davey was usually found on/under a bench)

Fourth: Cocktails beforehand are a must. Let's face it: tipsiness makes a good evening at the museum GREAT!

Ready to Eat My Own Shoes

Last night I received a phone call from my friend Lindsey. She asked what I was up to- I said I was reading.

Reading The Mists of Avalon. After we discussed how both of our Arthurian knowledge includes Disney's Sword and the Stone and Monty Python and The Holy Grail - but not much else, I gave her my take on the book:

I think it's fantastic. It's very interesting - in the same way that Wicked is an interesting counterpart to The Wizard of Oz. And I loved Wicked (Actually - the book was more political than what I wanted - but the play? Amazing!)

Then I asked Lindsey what she was had been up to . . .

She just got back from Boston. While there she had the most spectacular breakfast of her life. Sweet potato fries, pumpkin pancakes, etc.

This is around the time that I went from Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde and it was triggered solely by Lindsey's food talk.

I gave her a ranting supplement to my minutes-old Mists of Avalon review.

The book is around 900 pages long and I'm somewhere in the early 200s. And I am starving.

What the hell is wrong with these medieval times people?!?! Every other page is something like "my handmaiden brought me a dinner of bread and honey", "I broke my 3 day fast with some dry bread and cold water", "I barely ate the bread and cured meat I had in front of me"

These people? Are eating like they're in prison. Not like - US prison, but like North Korea prison!

I'll start reading and by the time I've finished 2 pages I feel faint from hunger.

Lady of the Lake? You have the ability to mix all kinds of herbs and shit for healing potions, yes? How is it that you can't conjure up an iced tea?

If you saw the calculating nature of most of the characters you'd be left wondering - but you never figured out how to make a hamburger?!?!

Take your bread and put your cured meat in the middle. You are on your way!

Yesterday while on break from work I ran across the street for a delicious iced tea. What did I get? Sweet tea!

Barf!

I still choked it all down though, because I was desperate! I now have to consume anything edible that crosses my path because I don't want to starve to death while reading this book!

"Bread and honey" for dinner. What the hell is wrong with you people?

By the way - I'm noticing that this is like a solid carb diet. I have a feeling that the table wasn't the only round thing in King Arthur's court.

I told Lindsey that I will be happy if (at least just once) Lancelot and Guinevere sneak away and just binge themselves on corn on the cob that's dripping with butter and salt.

Lindsey's response: Well, they didn't know about corn yet.

Suck it, Lindsey

***By the way - if anyone is in the mood for an awesome fantasy story that won't make you gaunt - I full heartedly suggest The Changed Earth by J Hart F at http://jhartf.blogspot.com/ ***

I Guess I Told YOU . . .

This is one of those days where I accomplish something very dorky and then have an inner struggle about showing off my dorky thing. Lets face it: I'm probably not impressing anyone with anything besides how ridiculous I am.

Since I started volunteering at the Denver Museum of Nature and Science there have been several people who compare me to the nerdy entomologists in Silence of the Lambs who identify the moth that was shoved down a victim's throat.

They i.d. the moth as Acherontia styx - a Lepidoptera belonging to the "Death's Head" Hawkmoth family.

This is it:

So I was watching Silence of the Lambs today and was looking at the cover when something caught my eye . . .

This is where the mental conflict began

Nerdy Chad: Say . . . there's something off about the moth on the cover . . .

Awesome Chad: Leave it alone.

Nerdy Chad: I don't think that's a Death's Head Moth

Awesome Chad: So? Let's just enjoy the movie like a normal person. Yes?

Nerdy Chad: . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . That's a Tobacco Hornworm Moth! Tobacco Mutherfuckin' Hornworm!

Awesome Chad: I'm very proud of you. Now back to the movie.

Nerdy Chad: . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . but that skull looks familiar . . .

Awesome Chad: I swear to God, if you don't-

Nerdy Chad: Is that . . . is that that Dali sketch?

Awesome Chad: I refuse to confirm anything for you because you use it to make us look nerdy later.

Nerdy Chad: Is it called "The Vanity" or something? That used to scare me when I was little.

Awesome Chad: No, it's "In Voluptus Mors"

Nerdy Chad: Ha!! . . . Wait . . . why the hell would they do that? Wouldn't it be easier to jus use the real thing?

Awesome Chad: Maybe they just wanted to find a way to sneak 7 naked women onto a video case so that children in Target can look closely and see uncensored nipples?

Nerdy Chad: The real question is: How can I work this into casual conversation with everyone I meet?? Perhaps I can walk into starbucks and say "Hi Josh! I would like a girlie drink and I deserve it because I'm a complete genius! Picture this-"

Awesome Chad: I forbid you from saying it out loud. Remember the looks you get when you tell people your little tidbits.

Nerdy Chad: I don't like those looks. . . it's a mixture of glazed over eyes and something else.

Awesome Chad: pity?

Nerdy Chad: Hmmmmmm . . .

+ =

An open letter to Rachel Ray

Dear Rachel Ray:

We've put up with your cooking, your 30-minute meals etc. etc. But enough is enough. I can't go to the grocery store or a department store or drive down the highway without seeing your grinning face and muffin-topped mom pants. You don't need to show off every molar when you smile. And seeing you on TV is worse! Will somebody get that woman a lozenge?

So do us all a favor Rachel, you've made your mark, made your money - let's give someone else a chance...please.

Sincerely,

Matt

High Pitched and Nasal

Fran Drescher.

Cancer spokesperson. Gorgeous jewess celebrity. Made famous by her voice.

I've loved Fran ever since I first saw Saturday Night Fever. ("Are you as good in bed as you are on that dance flo-ah?")(Hehe. Queens accents.)

What I love slightly less is when people compare my voice to hers. Especially when I'm sick.

Over the years my voice has also been compared to Gilbert Gottfried, Ned Flanders, a grocery store loudspeaker, Dori from Finding Nemo, some cartoon monkey from the Discovery channel or something, Chandler's girlfriend on Friends, the list goes on and on.

I don't know what's wrong with people. I don't go around telling them they look fat in those pants.

Okay . . . I might.

But still, my voice is virile and manly. (No matter what voice recordings play back. Those things are notoriously unreliable.)(Camera's add 10 pounds. Microphones add 10 octaves.)(And a severe adenoid problem . . . )

ANYWAY.

The other day there was a birthday party at work for a little kid. I walked past one of our utility rooms to see my friend Meghan filling balloons with helium.

Hel-lo! Brain cells be damned - I'm TOTALLY gonna inhale some and it will be AWE-SOME!

I took a good lung full and ran into the hallway to find my friend, Mary Ann.

Chad: (In total helium voice) Hi Mary Ann!!

Mary Ann: Hi.

Chad: Don't you notice anything different?

Mary Ann: Uhhhhh . . . no.

Chad: (Helium wearing off) Really?!?!

Mary Ann: Are those new shoes?

I walked away defeated. With my shoulders shrugged, but my voice held high.

Damn.

I'm going to need to embrace this voice of mine or it could be my downfall.

If only I had a hilarious accent to go with it. (Damn you, Colorado)

Today

Today I will be efficient.

It's going to be a shit-the-bed-and-roll-around-in-it crazy day at work.

I woke up an hour early to make sure I started my day right

Today I will be ready.

Last night I figured out how to turn on my stove so I could boil water to french press coffee this morning instead of insisting on stopping somewhere.

I also packed a lunch for myself. Rosemary chicken breast and a caesar salad.

Today I will be amazing.

This week we have a visiting zookeeper from the Phoenix Zoo. We have to be incredible for our guest.

Today we also happen to be down to 60% staff (eek!) have like 6 school groups (that's insane, by the way) and a new exhibit hall to prepare in time for it's open house.

Today I will be on time.

When I got to work today (10 minutes early) I walked into the curatorial office and said hello to our visiting zookeeper. She said hello and followed that up with do you not have to go to the all-staff meeting?

Crap.

Yeah, it started like half an hour ago. Everyone's in the new exhibit hall.

Fuck!

Tomorrow I will be efficient . . .

Chad's Paternal Instincts?

Awful Girl: What would happen if I catch a butterfly?

Chad: You will probably cry

Awful Girl: How come?

Chad: Because I will hit you

Okay - this didn't exactly happen at work - but it makes me smile?

Is that wrong?

I hope you don't think so, because you'll probably be upset to learn that it is my secret ambition to become the Hannibal Lector of The Butterfly Pavilion.

Not in terms of eating people - but remember in Silence of the Lambs when Hannibal Lector is heard whispering to "multiple Miggs" in the cell next to him and Miggs crying until he choked on his own tongue?

Why can't I have that power? Hee hee.

I just got giddy again.

Don't think that I hate all children - just stupid ones. Well, and sticky ones. And screamy ones.

In fact - for every kid I want to shove in a crate and ship to an island that will use them as sacrifices - there's probably three that I love to death.

I have come up with this ratio based on yesterday at work

1 awful girl: In a sing-songy manner showed me what she learned at school - R-A-P-E, get the heck away from me. This bitch? I hate.

3 adorable triplets: Suzie, a woman from Boulder comes in frequently. The woman has triplets and is in desperate need of a break. So whenever she comes in I take her ADORABLE litter away with me where we can have fun and give Suzie a break. My paternal instincts are there, but have to be coaxed out with cuteness.

Like yesterday, the triplets (who are about 3 or 4) wanted to smell Angel's Trumpet blossoms. I hoisted each one up into the air and let them stand on my shoulders so they could smell the upside down flowers. . . that happen to have a hallucinogenic nectar. . .

Hey, I said I loved little kids - I didn't say I was well-practiced.