If you go to a swanky new pop-up museum in New York City and don't post pictures of yourself aggressively enjoying the hell out of some ice cream, did those calories even count? Your intrepid reporter braved the brutal New York City summer to find out.

The Good: everything I was allowed to eat

Immediately upon entering the museum, I was given a scoop of ice cream from a rotating cast of New York vendors like Blue Marble and Black Tap. Three clapping hands emoji (I'm sorry) to the museum for knowing what the people want, and what we came here for.

Another highlight was the miracle berry candy, which coats your taste buds with a glycoprotein and allows it to temporarily perceive sour things as sweet. Our video director Alix and I popped the dehydrated fruit pills into our mouths and ate lemon slices, which now took on a sweet lemonade flavor. The effect was still present an hour later when I went back to the office and snacked on some salt and vinegar chips, which tasted like crunchy sugar. Blech.

The Bad: everything I was not allowed to eat

Okay, so I actually enjoyed being in the sprinkle pool, despite the message my face might be sending. But that Instagram is super misleading! That is a doll arm stuck into real sprinkles, and this was a three-foot pool made from little bits of non-edible plastic. You may want to shower extra hard after you take a dip in this pool — the longer this museum is open, the more I fear it will become a rainbow-colored sweat bog.

Another lowlight was the "world's largest collaborative sundae," an activity in which you scoop up some "ice cream" and plop it onto a giant sundae goblet. According to one staffer, the ice cream doesn't melt because of an "enzyme." "It's technically edible, but you don't want to eat too much of it," he warned.

The I Came Here to Celebrate Ice Cream Not Relationships Why Are You Doing This to Me: Tinder Land

There's a Tinder-sponsored exhibit that was advertised in extremely vague language on the museum's website: "Guests will swing on an ice cream sandwich made for two, seesaw on an ice cream scooper and find their match/favorite flavor on a custom app in Tinder Land." After visiting and seeing it for myself, I'm still struggling to put into words what exactly the point of this section was. There was an iPad on the wall where you could swipe for your true flavor match, which just asked questions in the vein of "Is mint-chocolate chip good?" and "Are sprinkles your thing?" My answers are obviously "F*ck no!" and "Yes, they are my everything."

The Neapolitan ice cream sandwich swing was hung shoddily from a single exposed pipe on the ceiling, and it would make this horrible croaking sound every time we rocked back and forth. But at least I got some good 'grams out of it.

If you'd like to go through all of the goods, bads, and weird with me, check out this Facebook Live tour of our time there!