Ft. Lauderdale
Jan. 3rd, 2010 06:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rmWe've arrived in Florida, where we are spending the night before embarking on our cruise tomorrow. We came down a day early so the whole trip wouldn't risk scuppering by potential air travel delays.
We're in a Ramada Inn by the airport, best described as The Airport Hotel at the End of the World. If you ever wanted to write a story about despair and loss set in a surreal and transitory environment, SET IT RIGHT HERE. The place is ugly and run down; our room smells like bleach (hey, I'll take it over the alternative), and the center courtyard of the place features a closed Tikki Bar, a filled but unused pool full of leaves, signs to the Coco Lounge Night Club which is only open on Fridays and Saturdays, and a colony of semi-feral cats who will let you get close enough for photos but mostly not let you touch them, other than the giant Maru-like Scottish Fold that seems to rule them all.
It's 6:24pm and it's just gotten dark here and there's yowling and hissing and screaming from the bushes below. I actually don't think it's cat sex, but dominance wars between the large number of orange males here (although some are kittens).
The desk staff took more tries that I'd care to recount to get me the correct password for the ungodly slow Internet here, and despite my being very clear and very nice my burger did most certainly come with a bun (death! death!) on my first try in the pub earlier. Everyone here is leaving on some cruise or other tomorrow and is encamped loudly in every random little bar or restaurant in the complex -- there seem to be several, but inside they all seem to be the same -- and the names are different on the signs versus the menus in the room. Also: every menu item has quotation marks here, as if nothing is really real. I suppose food doesn't know when it's being served ironically. Certainly the parrot-print curtains in the pub are sincere in their belief that they were not designed by a schizophrenic toddler.
Have just finished up my last bit of work before traveling, and am going to take a much needed nap before we brave another hotel restaurant and hunker down for the night.
If you write stuff you want me to see while I'm gone, please post a link here.
And can I just say, oh Whoniverse people, that I'm still smiling about the Alonso thing?
We're in a Ramada Inn by the airport, best described as The Airport Hotel at the End of the World. If you ever wanted to write a story about despair and loss set in a surreal and transitory environment, SET IT RIGHT HERE. The place is ugly and run down; our room smells like bleach (hey, I'll take it over the alternative), and the center courtyard of the place features a closed Tikki Bar, a filled but unused pool full of leaves, signs to the Coco Lounge Night Club which is only open on Fridays and Saturdays, and a colony of semi-feral cats who will let you get close enough for photos but mostly not let you touch them, other than the giant Maru-like Scottish Fold that seems to rule them all.
It's 6:24pm and it's just gotten dark here and there's yowling and hissing and screaming from the bushes below. I actually don't think it's cat sex, but dominance wars between the large number of orange males here (although some are kittens).
The desk staff took more tries that I'd care to recount to get me the correct password for the ungodly slow Internet here, and despite my being very clear and very nice my burger did most certainly come with a bun (death! death!) on my first try in the pub earlier. Everyone here is leaving on some cruise or other tomorrow and is encamped loudly in every random little bar or restaurant in the complex -- there seem to be several, but inside they all seem to be the same -- and the names are different on the signs versus the menus in the room. Also: every menu item has quotation marks here, as if nothing is really real. I suppose food doesn't know when it's being served ironically. Certainly the parrot-print curtains in the pub are sincere in their belief that they were not designed by a schizophrenic toddler.
Have just finished up my last bit of work before traveling, and am going to take a much needed nap before we brave another hotel restaurant and hunker down for the night.
If you write stuff you want me to see while I'm gone, please post a link here.
And can I just say, oh Whoniverse people, that I'm still smiling about the Alonso thing?
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no subject
Date: 2010-01-03 11:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-03 11:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-03 11:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-03 11:37 pm (UTC)Oh, and Tovey gave an interview that pretty mush says we'll see Alonso again.
no subject
Date: 2010-01-03 11:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-03 11:42 pm (UTC)Is there a chance for you to reprise that role again after this?
"Surely. Yes. Sorry, I'm not allowed to say anything!"
no subject
Date: 2010-01-04 01:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-03 11:38 pm (UTC)I really like the description here.
no subject
Date: 2010-01-03 11:42 pm (UTC)*burst of laughter*
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Date: 2010-01-04 12:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-04 12:26 am (UTC)Yay!
no subject
Date: 2010-01-04 12:49 am (UTC)The only thing that bothers me about Alonso is the concern that this might affect Being Human, since he is one of the leads in that show. (And I love that show!)
no subject
Date: 2010-01-04 04:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-04 12:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-04 12:59 am (UTC)A picture would be just the thing--a mocking icon perhaps? Or just a post for
Also, hotel posts must have the Danny Torrance icon.
no subject
Date: 2010-01-04 01:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-04 07:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-04 03:00 pm (UTC)BTW, there is the Big Gay Battle between JB and Neil Patrick Harris and others going on via the intarwebz, in case you haven't heard. Any chance of reposting to spread the word? :D
no subject
Date: 2010-01-04 07:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-06 06:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-04 10:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-06 03:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-06 11:52 pm (UTC)...it's not because I hate you, just so you know...
Date: 2010-01-07 07:31 am (UTC)I know this is wrong of me to do, for SO many reasons, the least of which I've never writtten anything, but it's just too funny to pass up.
Now I'm just trying to find quasi-legal methods of making you read the whole thing.