Blagh, blagh, blagh.

Heh-heh-heh. That's actually kind of clever, now that I look at it on the screen.

I'm back. Seems as though some of you actually missed me, judging by the repeat traffic that landed on my last journal entry. That's nice. Thanks.

I spent a little time in The Bahamas last week. That was also nice. The experience is still stewing in my head, but I can share the one stand-out moment for me. It's a strange one, which I believe you will both appreciate and expect.

We visited Atlantis, on Paradise Island. I will save my rant against Atlantis for another day (yes, you're welcome), but I think it's important to frame my stand-out moment in the proper context. It was not the water slides or the artificial opulence of the resort or even the truly amazing meals we enjoyed.

Nope.

The stand-out moment occurred on the drive from the airport over to the island. Somewhere on the immediate outskirts of downtown Nassau, cruising alongside an esplanade with trees and park benches and perhaps even some statuary. A small, limestone-walled area, no bigger than 8 by 8 feet, if I had to ballpark (which I suppose I do). An iron gate. Vines growing wild up the sides. I believe it enclosed some section of the city's electrical grid. If I could have stopped the taxi and gotten out, I would have.

Why? I have no idea. It may have been deja vu, but I can't be sure. It will turn up someplace in a book, I suppose. I will have to set a story in Nassau, now. Not for the beach or the climate or anything else that a normal person would have carried home.

Just for that limestone wall.

I could not be more excited.

(This is 195, by the way. I'm trying to figure out how to make balloons and streamers appear at entry 200.)