(Disclaimer: this is a little random, but I wanted to put some of my thoughts down on paper (or computer I guess)) Dinosaurs. Their mysterious awe, their primordial existence, their electric lure. I was enchanted by them--almost mythical creatures--throughout my early childhood. The Allosaurus and Brachiosaurus replaced my quintessential girl fascination for dolls. The concept of what had existed before man striked me in a manner brushing Barbie’s hair never could. By kindergarten, I had the narration for dinosaur documentaries memorized, and in first grade I proudly presented my ostentatious collection of fossils to my class in “Show and Tell”...each week (my snowglobe collection didn’t draw as much interest). I spent my afternoons sifting through the forest floor for the imprint of an ancient plant on the face of a stone, deer bones, and arrowheads. This was my gateway to science. I wanted evidence of the past, but even more so, I craved discovery. Too naive to comprehend th...