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The obligatory catch up post:

I've got a lot of catching up to do, so this won't be complete in the slightest, but I do have to set the record straight before athenakt jumps on and starts giving you misleading information about me.Collapse )

Various rants of the day:

1. If I enter a tourist information center looking for directions to the Osceola Regional Medical Center, this may not be the best time to try to sell me discount tickets to the Medieval Times dinner show.

2. Although I admire the marketing technique, if I point out that I am attempting to reach the ORMC before someone goes in for a minor surgical procedure, telling me that the Pirates dinner show is the best way to help people recover is also not going to be overly convincing.

3. Directions to the ORMC that include the words, "Well, it's close to the Medieval Times dinner show," are a) not true, and b) not helpful.

4. One would think that the ORMC, at least, could provide clear, concise directions, even if a place helping tourists find things cannot.

5. One would be wrong.

6. While we're at it, tourists, we can tell you're lost, but driving on I-4 at 35 miles per hour is not going to get you unlost any faster, and could get us all killed.

7. Does anybody really believe that the little Build-A-Bear Workshop bears in McDonald's Happy Meals were really stuffed with love, and not, say, stuffed with robots?

8. Good way to give yourself guilt: stop at McDonald's when heading back from a cardiac unit.

9. The Yankees are evil. Why are we even having any alternate discussion here?

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My snarling about Orlando traffic aside, for those following the medical issues of this blog recently, it looks as if everything is going to be all right.

Orlando

My parents have a condo on a small lake, a lake that over the years has slowly been surrounded by small houses and condos and in the not too far distance the roller-coasters of Universal Studios. From the window here, I can see the lake, and just beyond it, some of the sights of International Drive – particularly that huge, brightly lit bungee jumping thing. (If you’ve seen it, you know exactly what I mean — if you haven’t, it’s a garish implement set up solely to plunge people to near deaths in absolutely the most tacky environment that can be designed by humans.)

Most of the time.

When I woke this morning, the lake was covered by a deep fog, pierced by the sun only enough to make it the faintest shade of dark pink. On the right edge, the sun was almost, but not quite, pushing through, sending light gleaming through the morning fog. And everything else in the world was utterly lost. My breath caught in my throat, and I stared for awhile – and then went back to bed.

********

On a completely unrelated note, the trouble with listening to Three Dog Night and the Bloodhound Gang while driving north on the Florida Turnpike is that both groups make you lose all track of speed...which can make matters a bit interesting.

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