Megan Lohne Writes Plays Sometimes

Just another weblog

In order to see the very first Jurassic Park which was rated PG-13 when I was not yet thirteen I had to make a bargain with my father.  If I jumped off the ever so terrifying high dive I would not only receive the coveted underage admission to Jurassic Park but I would also get vanilla frozen yogurt with rainbow sprinkles.

The stakes were high.

You can imagine how poetic it was when I discovered Dairy Queen had created blizzards with vanilla ice cream, peanut butter, and cookie dough to commemorate the release of Jurassic World.  Immediately my mind was a flurry imagining all the small children getting bribed to ace their Montessori feelings final to not only gain admission to Jurassic World but also be handed an appropriately thematic sweet treat that they probably never get because they mostly eat organic.

Did I jump off the high dive?  Yes.  As a triumphant Laura Dern running through the raptor paddock with a broken ankle I closed my eyes, took a breath, and leaped.  I also survived-frozen yogurt in hand.  My eyes were naive saucers seeing the magic of a brachiosaurus sneezing just as they were Friday night when I watched Jurassic World next to a bunch of young men in glow bracelets.

I may never have lived out my dream of being an archeologist/paleontologist discovering the next dinosaur but I’ll always have the Jurassic Park saga to help me pretend I did for two and a half hours.  Thankfully, it doesn’t make you sweat as much as a South American dig.

 Cheers Dairy Queen, I raise my raptor emblazoned cup to you! 


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