Breaking wind...tunnels

This weekend I went to the Science Museum of Minnesota, which was like throwing a kid in a giant bucket of candy. I was drowning in science...but drowning happily.

The experiments ranged from the innoculous (read: cute stuffed baby polar bear), to the gag-reflexing (read: squeezing a scent bottle in such a way that the scent goes up your nose and down your throat. The scent? Skunk urine), to the scientific blood-lusting (read: the aerodynamics and fluid mechanics exhibit).

When I saw that they had a exhibit featuring different, adjustable shapes in a tank with seed-doped fluid running over them and a fully-functional wind tunnel with graphing software, my mental state was that of an engorged baboon hyped up on pheremones. Already slightly irritated that kids kept cutting in line for the remote-controlled Mars Rover mockup, I tried my best to wait patiently for the wind tunnel as some kid fumbled with the controls. However, when Marie came by, I meant to say that "I [was] waiting for this exhibit," but it came out as "I [was] waiting for this exhibit." I also accidentally said this louder than I meant to, prompting the prospective scientist to turn around and, frightened by my half-crazed pose and drooling countenence, scurry away. I felt slightly bad, but was quickly distracted by doing lift and drag comparisons on all sorts of fun shapes and airfoils. On a Saturday afternoon.

Bad Erik.