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BUTTERFLY EFFECT TAKES FLIGHT AT CHICAGO BOTANIC GARDENS

8/23/2012

 
They were everywhere, covered in beautiful geometric patterns and bright bold colors!  The brochure suggested their numbers might reach 500 during a single visit.  I wasn’t into counting, but 500 seemed a reasonable estimate as Jim and I entered the pavilion they called home.  
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It's a jungle out there as well as in here.
I did estimate the temperature inside the pavilion to be close to 500 degrees. Okay, that might be a bit of hyperbole; it was more like 100 degrees, with 60% humidity.  It was HOT!  Of course, the temperature outside the pavilion was hovering close to 94 degrees as Chicago went for another record.  My hair had started complaining immediately upon entering the pavilion, then had simply thrown in the towel and limped along quietly thereafter.
I was thinking hell might be a better option, but I’d put down good money (versus bad, as in laundered maybe?) for the chance to be here (think sauna with all the accompanying sweat freely dripping out of every pore) so I wasn’t leaving without getting my money’s worth.

Jim and I lasted about 10 minutes, which was not exactly a bargin; I paid 50 cents a minute to see hundreds of these fragile and beautiful creatures gloriously happy foraging for food nonstop (a liquid diet only), seemingly oblivious to the ticking clock in their  short lifespan (most only make it less than 9 months).  And to boot, I’m sure I lost 5  pounds perspiring profusely (we women don't sweat!).  I'll take my weight loss any way I can get it.
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Hey, dude. Those are some really rad rags!
WOW!  The butterfly effect had obviously begun the moment Jim and I stepped into that hot house. Maybe it was money well spent after all.  Isn't that what saunas are for anyway?!
 
A single butterfly fluttered its wings; the temperature inside the pavilion rose with each flutter; multiply that by 500 butterflies;  I stepped into that maelstrom of chaos; my body temperature went up; my sweat glands kicked in; and voila, I lost five pounds!  Thank  you, Edward Lorenz.  Of course the real credit goes to all the beautiful butterflies. 
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Yeah, you might have gone a little overboard with the eye shadow.
Obviously we should have come much sooner (maybe even multiple visits would speed up the weight loss process), although the Chicago Botanic Garden’s Butterfly and Blooms exhibit had only been open since early June.  Based on the activity inside, the party was in full swing until early September.

Most of the butterflies were into having a good time, fluttering around the room like there was no tomorrow (well, for some, that might possibly be the case, but who was I to be the bearer of bad news!). Every now and then a few butterflies would give Jim and I the once over,  perhaps concerned we might cause trouble given we were certainly not dressed for the occasion.    
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Their clandestine efforts to keep an eye on us failed miserably.
Everyone else was dressed to the nines.  Most of the women were in elegant evening gowns.
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Doesn't she look stunning in that color!
The majority of the men were wearing tuxedos. 
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And all this time I thought guys in tuxes looked like penguines.
Even those not in coats and tails were nonetheless smartly dressed in a clearly understated fashion that said old money.  I suddenly felt very frumpy in my shorts and tee shirt.  The  sneakers were the icing on the cake (now there's a delicious distraction in the midst of my fashion faux pa!).  
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You're barking up the wrong tree if you think clothes don't make the man/butterfly.
From across the room, I looked at my guy;  Jim caught my eye just as another bead of sweat dripped down my nose and fell to the floor. I put down my camera.  Jim stood up. Without a word, we both headed for the exit.
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My man has the patience of a saint. He doesn't even seem to be sweating either.
Three bouncers politely escorted us out.  We left without incident.  After all, I left without those five pounds too.  
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Moe, Larry and Curly?
Do I believe in the butterfly effect? You bet I do! Those five pounds didn’t just melt away on their own.  Every one of those butterflies was rooting for me.  Flutter your eyelids all you want, but you’d better believe there’s no way I’m going back in time to change a single pound of what happened that fateful day in July irregardless the time travel thing.  


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