Warm wishes from Pleasantville (day 10).

The wonders of the parental insurance plan continue. Following my dental appointment (wherein the dentist chuckled mightily at my valiant effort to carry on an intelligent conversation while feeling the effects of a shot of novacaine), the visit to the optometrist was a delight (and *I* chuckled to myself, noting that his bad jokes had finally accumulated around his midsection). Long story short: one quick filling and a chance for some relatively cheap contact lenses. Now for the fun part. Tomorrow morning, I will undergo surgery to remove my third molars (wisdom teeth extraction). Hooray for intravenious sedation, narcotic pain relievers, and lemon pudding. I can hardly wait, especially after signing the informed consent sheet, telling them that I understand I could be dead this time tomorrow. And so it goes.

Read Watership Down if weren't forced to read it in high school English. It's good. Watch Requiem for a Dream if you haven't. It's also good. Do not spend your "responsibility-free" time in Pleasantville. It's not good. The fields are covered with blood.

Pink lemonade is pink because it's mixed with grape juice.

Moving right along, someone, most likely a relative with whom I share 50% of my polytropic genes and is not my parents, may have spilled the vegetarian baked beans about my future plans following a Floridian internship. The person who shared this information with me (also a relative with whom I share 50% of my polytropic genes--100% from the Y chromosome) seemed to be supportive of such an idea. Time will tell.