Mexico City Airport

Hey guys!!!!!! what's uuuuuuuuuuuuup!!!!!!!!! Just a quick question, just wondering if anyone needs a research subject for:

nonsense organization
something that makes no sense
utter disarray
a clusterfock
throwing a bunch of ideas in the air and whatever lands, saying "that's how we'll make our airport"

????????

Once upon a time I worked for a very messy sewing store and when I would try to group things, I was told, no don't do that, the idea of retail is that you make people look for things, that way they interact with more products and then get distracted and buy more. I should note this store went out of business because it lost so much money. I passed about 40000000000 duty free shops and was very friendly offered "tequila!" etc. and saw a lot of cops running around/riding around on their cocky Segways. This thing is laid out like they are trying to break you. There is no indication where ticket windows are, for some reason, gates 1-15 are upstairs, customs is downstairs, I am stopped every several feet by people in hats who are also cagey and weird. Many gates are in a line and/or exist with no sign so that to find gate 15, I had to follow signs for gates 19-36, and when I indicated that this was confusing they indicated that it was obvious. Then, upon arriving to gate 15, I was informed that I needed to go to gate B, which is upstairs from upstairs (and p.s. there are like 2 stairways for this whole terminal), upon which there is no sign for gate B, but they informed me it was obviously gate B and it is also obvious not to have a gate assignement for a flight that leaves in an hour and a half and I am to wait around for the announcement. AWESOME!

Additionally, the AWESOME airport has wildly fluctuating temperatures, so that this morning I was shivering and had on everything I could possibly wear, and now it's roasting, and it changes by hall.

They are trying to kill me. I am now going to go to gate 24 from my gate B, which oh, p.s., is next to gate....what would be logical? oh right T. Gate T. You know how it is in the alphabet, ABTCDEFG etc.?? This will be lap #3. They are trying to kill me.

More Acapulco Information

We’re different! On Mexicana Airlines, it is no problem if you are not wearing seatbelts, if your seat is fully reclined, and they are landing the plane. This was new. Also there are Segways in the Mexico City Airport. Also, some of their gates go like this, in this order: 22, 24, 23.

We spend a lot of time in Acapulco. Here is a description of Acapulco: there is a town square which is very great in an oooh-this-is-a-dump-but-there’s-personality type way, with shoeshine stalls that are always empty and a big fountain. There is an aerobics/tae qwon do combo gym (obvious) that gives classes that you can hear in the square. There are very effective vendors of small trinkets, particularly gum. They enhance their marketing technique by being either children or teeny tiny and Indian and in very fun aprons and shaming you when you say no. Most effective last week was a vendor who was nursing as she walked around, as in infant on a boob and put naked boob + infant right in your face. We were unshakable! And had only pizza! And did not buy trinket! There are also terrifying nightmare Mexican clowns that kinda walk around and will maybe do shows (terrifying) and a giant gazebo that has banners and people pontificating about something--last week it was stopping child abuse (they love stopping child abuse! they are so cute!). Beers are always $1 and you can get delicious crack-based ice cream for 30 cents.

Last week we also ate at a small local restaurant, where a guy was playing the saxophone in a bizarre way and later a rather intoxicated shoe-free gentlemen entered and sang songs very poorly for the tables. It was a tiny place that was chock full of all locals (locales) and we were the only gringos in the place. When you order fried fish for $4, the only drawback is that it is probably fresh from the harbor, which means it’s diet was mercury and exhaust, but otherwise, it came with soup, fresh tortillas made on the griddle in the joint, rice and beans, spaghetti and butter, salad, and a weird jello-ish dessert that was just like jello but harder, kinda amber colored, and not very sweet. Full for a week!

Castmate and self walked along the beach afterwards and saw more cats (obvious), smelled the fartyharbor and then saw people dragging rope for the equivalent of about 2 city blocks on the beach. So we stopped to watch and it was like ye olde tyme old man and the sea, with all ages of guys pulling the rope very hard, one person about every yard. There were children pulling, and old grizzled guys who had part of a net around their shoulder, tied to the rope so they could lean forward real hard and pull by walking. So we sat and watched for an hour, deciding it was a boat that they were dragging in (silly idea!), before realizing that they were pulling in a giant fishing net (oh) at like 9 p.m. So they pull this huge net of fish in, the lead fisherman guy wiry and ripped and shirtless and probably killed a few guys and a ridiculous cliché, so there was about 4 yards wide by 2 yards deep of flapping fish. They make kind of a sound of pouring buttons on other buttons? Bacon frying? Snap snap snap? Yeah. A bunch of the fisherman leaned over the catch and started winging the bad stuff back into the ocean. The bad stuff included manta rays, who spun sideways in the air and looked like Frisbees going back in the water and random fish that looked just like all the other fish. They also got quite a few blowfish, that they very gingerly picked out of the catch and chucked in a little pile. There were fish all over the place, if you wanted to lean down and get one, that was not a problem. The other star feature was a fisherman/local resident, who did all of his sorting while huffing glue from an empty water bottle via mouth and nose. According to a cronie from the peace corps (whatep Josh), this is a regular delight in certain parts of Latin America, to which I say yay+horray+hehehehe+yay+barf.

An LA Vacation

I have now lived the LA nightmare of your car breaking down on the way to the airport when you are flying internationally and etc. Thankfully, Pardo was driving, AAA will cover whatever car you’re in (good fact), the towtruck will bring something under 8 miles, the towtruck driver informed me that I was simply effed vis a vis my previous mechanical assistant. Specifically, the radiator hose was held on via ideas, and not clamps, clamps being the thing that will mean you don’t need to pull over on the 405 right by the 101. WHEE!

I have been out of LA long enough to forget that everyone there has visible tattoos and trendy footwear and hatwear and that many many teenagers have those cork earrings that are making their earlobes larger that they will all regret because it is stupid. Also that you go like this on the road: “GAAA GET OFF YOUR PHONE!” behind someone and then go “ooh, I could call person X” and then do and then a semi-truck flashes you because you are driving 10 mph because your conversation is going so well. Also, smog makes wonderful sunsets, and LA smells nice in certain places. Also, there are weirdos and bookstores. Also, people have pets. Also, it is possible to walk around and see high ceilings and park and have SWEET SILENCE at 1-3 a.m., which is delicious crack. Sometimes it is wonderful to see advertising and hear advertising and catch LoveLines, which is a wonderful show. Also I bought books because I AM SO SOPHISTICATED!!!!!!!!!!ANDAMAZING!!!!!!!!!GARAHARAHARAP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and it turns out spending a lot of time in a very poor country or very poor sections of it where you clearly do not belong and are aware of kidnapping as a side job makes it much easier to relax in a place where you resemble other humans. Did I ever mention that someone was mugged in Acapulco by a cop?

Perspective

I am recently off the boat for 2 days in LA. Meaning I am back in normal life. This is giving me perspective about things that I never do on the boat, i.e. why life is not normal e.g. etc.

1) Look in a cabinet/fridge for food
2) See planes in the sky at night/hear sirens
3) See the insane animals who live in LA, where everyone looks like a peacock and/or has fallen out of a tv show and/or has made an alternate life choice and/or drives constantly.

Thank you, the end.

Kid's Workshop

We taught the 10-12 year old workshop today. The most difficult child in the class was a tiny little runt named Blake who wouldn’t listen and had too big of a vocabulary and informed us when things were boring or when another kid made a boring choice, i.e. that the name “Bob” was, ahem, “you shoulda said HAROLD” and refused to play the improv games in a simple way. In other words, he will probably grow up to be exactly like all of us. His question was “how old do you have to be to start doing this?” And when they asked us how old we were and I said “15,” he said “well, you made a nice little business for yourself” which is classic because this child is 10. Maybe. Also, they believed that I was 15, which is hilarious, and it made them lose their minds and say “DO YOU HAVE A LICENSE!” and then a counselor said “she’s not 15” and I said “that’s true, I’m 12” and this killed them and made them say “you’re lying!!!” I said “it is rude to ask a woman her age” and then a girl in the back, who acted out “guilty” during a game earlier, said “that’s true. And you’re NEVER supposed to ask a woman how much she weighs.” A girl with braces said “please, please, I need to know. I need a straight answer. Are you older than Derek?” and another kid goes “you’re 20! You’re 20!”

Some other question highlights: “Can you rhyme the word silver?” Then they all lost their minds about words you can’t rhyme like “ORANGE! YOU CAN’T RHYME ORANGE!!!” I told them to practice rhyming in their head things like “Jim” or “pen” and a kid raised his hand and said “JIM AND PEN DON’T RHYME!” which was classic also.

Teenagers

A few random notes on delightful passengers:

A group of 3 almost identical 3 year old girls—clearly from fertility treatments. But to deny that idea or something, the mom had them all dressed identically and with identical haircuts. The best was overhearing them have this conversation, standing in a circle, all facing each other while waiting for the elevators:
“Sometimes my stomach hurts.”
“Me too! Sometimes MY tummy hurts!”
“My tummy hurts!!!”

Apparently these triplettes are a huge pain and have no discipline at all according to the youth counselors. Their parents have been in the casino, very intoxicated, for the main part of the cruise. The magician said he was in the internet lab and the three of them came in—one walked up to him and said “you’re the magician!” and poked him on the nose.

Also, there is a large contingent of teenagers on the ship, which must be paradise for them on several thousand levels (unlimited soda, unlimited food, apparently sex? in the disco? apparently? if they get away with it? which is very upsetting for the counselors). It is classic people watching, to see them in groups pretending they don’t care that every breathing human is staring at them. Here are 3 group highlights:

1. a group of about 10, out at night, sauntering around in aggressively trendy clothes with flat ironed hair (the dudes). My favorite was the boombox on the shoulder, which is now: a very lightweight neoprene ipod travel speaker box with an ipod plugged in. So that he is holding it open, but not changing his posture at all for the weight. I mean it is on his shoulder for no reason. He could hold it in his palm, outstretched, and have no problem. It’s like 3 ounces.

2. A very nervous boy, probably like 14 or something, that came in to hear jazz in the atrium. This is Kenny G type jazz. He was probably like 6’3” and all gawky bone with long emo hair, complete with a Muse tshirt. He was there for about 20 minutes by himself with his arms folded across his bird chest. Then a girl came in, with very carefully chosen “I Don’t CARE! I am ALTERNATIVE! None of this really MATCHES!” clothes and makeup that I know took like 30 minutes at least. They watched the Kenny G type jazz for about a half an hour and then walked around together, clearly terrified.

3. A girl with tiny shorts on that exposed the area under her bellybutton and 3 hilariously gawky boys who clearly were losing their minds around her. She would walk somewhere and they would all talk to her and only to her, and sometimes stop to punch each other. She’s meander and they’d be like “HAHAHA! HEY look at THIS! HAHAHA!”

I also met the girl later who was on the emo date. She was sitting on a bench in a hallway, right by the pool, with a foot outstretched. She was sitting close to her friend who looked paralyzed and terrified that I stopped to talk to them. Like she froze in an open mouth braces-having frown and just stared. The emo girl said this: “Hi you’re Second City, you guys were amazing, really really amazing.” I said she should come to the other shows and she said “yeah, well, I probably can’t because I broke my foot. I’m probably going to die. Please tell my parents that I’m going to die and that you were amazing." They are transparent and hilarious.

Pyramid Schemes

I got pulled over in the market café and told “we love you! You are so great! We love all the faces you make!” FYI, making faces is mugging, which is very bad acting. So. And I talked to them because a) the guy was probably 50+ and had perfectly quoiffed 80’s blown dry hair which was fascinating, the kind that you would think is almost definitely a toupee or plugs or said “I WANT TO BE COOL TO MEN IN THEIR 50’S!” He said his wife (who was standing a foot away from me with a mullet and French tips) was a successful singer and that he was an accountant and that he did that because one business makes money for other businesses “to let us do what we want!” They wanted to know where I was from, because of my accent and that it had to be somewhere in Europe. Then he said he wanted to give me a website, to which I said “sure” and then he wrote a website, which looked like “DNAACCOUNTS” and said “haha, OJ made us famous!” which I didn’t get, especially because I worked for a company that actually WAS kinda made famous by the OJ case (whatup Scott haaay), then a password and said “click on opportunities, then accounts, then the passcode is ‘freedom’” then he gave me his email and wrote it out again to so it would look clearer. O CRUISESHIPS RANDOM PYRAMID SCHEMES ARE YOU KIDDING!

I have since seen other guys with very similar hair, and it must be some odd offbrand hairclub for men.

My Sickness, or Complaining About Noise Like I Am an Old Woman

Complaining About Noise Like I Am An Old Woman

Preface: I, personally, in life, run my yap a lot. I believe there are many proverbs about what you put out, you get back 3-fold, yes?

I just went all over the ship to find somewhere quiet to work. Another cast member told me to go down to the restaurants that are very busy at night, but empty during the day. Unfortunately people are already in there and there is already soft mood jazz blaring and it reeks of cigarettes and cigars and a bar. Another cast member told me to go to the place where there are crew Jacuzzis, which, p.s., are always lukewarm and people don’t like. The only problem with this spot is that, “well, it’s outside” which is fine, except for how being outside means you can’t see your screen except for like a square inch and then you lose your pointer and you have to sit in a deck chair, meaning recline, meaning fall asleep. I thought I could try a table in the card room, but they were totally full except for one in the middle and that would be weird and someone would yap to me. A cast member told me to go into the spa into the relaxation rooms. This was fine, although there was relaxation music blaring and 3 French Canadian women who decided to have a loud conversation and sit on either side of me and run their yaps over me and get up and sit down and walk around and yap and get more tea and yap and yap and yap. My roommate was in my room and so I went to the only place where there is enough white noise, and that is in the spa, in a regular chair by a sculpture on the wall next to a large fake indoor plant. A random passenger came up to me and said “no laptops in here” and I said “really” like I was going to pass out because I thought he was somehow spa security and he said “can’t you wait until tomorrow? Just one more day?” and I said “I LIVE ON THE SHIP! I LIVE HERE!” and he said “hahaha” because he clearly didn’t understand me. There were people running their yap there also, but the whirlpool is on and the motors are making a lot of noise and I can’t hear the blared relaxation music. Also people are having fun walking around constantly and a small woman came over and said, with a huge smile “DO YOU HAVE WIRELESS IN HERE?” and I said no. Everyone was in a deck chair with a bathrobe or a suit on, I had a laptop on my lap (appropriate) with jeans and running shoes and a long sleeve t-shirt and sat in a regular chair. Then my computer died. Aaah.

Today I heard “Red, Red Wine” in the Irish Themed Pub at 9 a.m. I heard “YMCA” while sitting in a hot tub outside at 5:30 p.m. I heard “I’m Bringing Sexy Back” in the Lounge/club thingie at 11:45 p.m. The unfortunate effect of hearing “I’m Bringing Sexy Back” for the 80 millionth time was that I was filled with black seething rage and had to immediately leave and go home, even though we got to the bar and sat down right at the beginning of “I’m Bringing Sexy Back.” On the way back to my room, I heard 6 different songs. I would say 7, but they play the same song on both elevator lobbies. This song is different from the one that they play in the all night diner thing with brightly colored stools. That was the instrumental version of Andre Bocelli’s song, whatever that one is. Andre Bocelli is how I decided to spell the name of that blind guy who is an opera singer. This song is everywhere. I am not swearing in the preceeding sentences, because I only want to swear, so please read this paragraph with all swearing, all the time. There was a different song in the atrium, there was a different song playing CONSTANTLY. There is CONSTANT MUSIC.

There is a church room, but they usually keep the doors open and it is, obviously, right by a heavily trafficked hallway. Specifically, it is on the way to bingo, which you can now play with an electronic keypad and you can play a crazy amount of games at once. By crazy amount, I mean something like, in the 100s. I feel like I am making that up, but I think I am not.

The standup on board never gets off of the ship at the ports. Apparently, he never goes out and he rarely leaves his room. He lives below decks. He is going to be on the ship for a year and a half, solid. He went home for one week to do his taxes. I am starting to see how a hermit life would not be entirely, deeply insane. This week, there are either 400 or 600 children on board. Next week, there will be 800 children on board. Last week I walked by the children’s center and they were all screaming. Clearly not part of a game. Clearly just willy-nilly screaming.

I have spoken with the lighting technician. He gave me his pager number so I can reach him at any time and have him open the back rooms of the stage, like the place where they keep the instruments. In my opinion, there is a magic room somewhere where nothing will change in my field of vision and nothing will change in my field of hearing. It will be totally silent and I will be born anew.

We also went to the same show again earlier and heard the same jokes:
“You’re Canadian, you say ay. Well, I think the Americans should say ‘be,’ because the Mexicans say ‘c.’” insert: hahahahahahahaha. This human always adds “uh” to the ends-uh of his-uh, worrrds-uh.

Mazatlan, Part 2: the Cathedral

We also went to the cathedral in Mazatlan, which was interesting. It was pretty run down and I think the brick was actually just an idea someone had—they just painted rectangles on plaster, I think. The cathedral was very impressive and featured some technological improvements. You know the little red devotional candles? The votives, if were raised protestant? Well, I like the votives, even if they are a hassle or whatever or a fire hazard. Well, they now make votives with electric flames. So now you can go to the votive station (I was raised Presbyterian) and put your money in and get an electric flame. Also, they had random little glass boxes with small dolls inside them. I saw a woman praying to one of the dolls and they were in the middle of a mass, so we just had to decide on our own that the dolls were for individual people maybe? Who were important in the community? There were little boxes of dolls all around, kind of like those collectable dolls from the 80’s—kid faces but ornate dresses and hair you can brush? Also, there were confessionals that were very cavalier. The place for the priest had a screen that would cover his face and an ornate top that was wicker and had a cross at the top, but nothing covered his knees or hands. And the confessor was as covered as you would be in an average voting booth with no curtain—just a foot wide slab that separated you from the congregation—but your back would be totally visible. Entirely not private. There are babies all over Mazatlan, so either the church is really successful or not at all.

Also, oddly, there is a shoe shine section in Mazatlan. This is right by the cathedral. There were 2 solid blocks of the central square, all for shoe shining. Of course!

We then had lunch in a café over the market, with a terrace that overlooked the street. There were two very dirty parakeets in a cage behind us who were textbook dirty birds with a bent metal bottom. Becky had a fun time making dirty bird jokes, then an old man came in and spoke to the birds and jumped up and down like he was possibly insane.

A great sight today was watching 4 Mexican guys trudge through the sand on the beach. One was carrying a standup bass, two had acoustic guitars, one had one snare drum. They were walking with about 6 feet between them.

Also, there are always cats on the beaches of Acapulco—I have to add this in case I forget. It seems completely against everything that it means to be a cat, except for the litter box part. Still, they love it and even take naps. On the sand, out in the open. O cats.

Mazatlan, Part 1

People are not thrilled by our cruise getting rerouted. Since it did, I have heard things like, I quote, “I’m so focking* angry” shouted on a cellphone in a hallway, or when we asked the audience for a suggestion of “something you’ve heard today,” we heard “REFUND!!” The first port was Manzanillo, which featured a very large parking lot of identical white cars, clearly a shipping point or something for Nissan/Toyota/Kia/functional hatchbacks. It was very industrial, which was kind of interesting to see, but apparently not if you are expecting Acapulco. The first shuttle bus took 40 people out, then ½ an hour later, took 20 people back. This is for a port that people had like 10 hours to enjoy. My favorite part was the cruise director and all the cruise staff was functioning on CRISIS HIGH ALERT CRISIS mode, so to manage the passengers into shuttle buses into the city (because the port was pretty far away), they had little boarding passes to hand out to the passengers. The cruise director made a lot of announcements like “great ladies and gentlemen. So you have a red pass that says ‘tender boat’ and has a number, but we will use it for the shuttle bus. Everyone with a red pass numbered 1 to 400 can leave on the first trip into the city. Please hang tight, wait for us to call your number. Hahahaa Great Great.” Clearly someone got annoyed, because he said, “great ladies and gentlemen. It has been brought to my attention that the red pass is more of a hot pink. So please take your HOT PINK pass numbered 1 to 400 and proceed to the gangway.” Elderly tyranny! You know someone freaked out about red vs. hot pink. People love freaking out. This is the lesson of cruising.

We skipped Manzanillo because it was crap apparently. We did get off at Mazatlan, which was handy because we were relieved of many many pesos. Here is the new negotiating technique learned in Mazatlan. Take a while, arrive at a price, then when it comes time to pay and the gringos give you a $20, say as pathetically as possible, “sorry, I have no change” then carefully open up your wallet to prove it to them that you have no change, because it is a wallet with just one lonely $20 bill. Then you get whatever price you agreed on rounded up to an increment of $10 or something. I would say this was a unique incident, but it happened 4 times. With 4 different guys. One of whom sold me something on the beach.

We went to the central market which was very cool and colorful and more whitie friendly, in that there weren’t heavily armed policemen everywhere, so my life felt kind of secure. There were also pig heads for sale, not under a glass case or anything, and also a bunch of pig feet, just kinda cut off, not really pretending it is something else or even skinned. The unfortunate thing about the pig heads is that they would keep showing up. There wasn’t like “go to Jose’s for a pig head” so you could know to avoid Jose’s if seeing them makes you want to barf. Everybody sold one, which made me want to say BARF BARF BARF BARF BARF because I am an American and I pretend I don’t eat heads, and if I do I do not want to know.

When you get off of a cruise ship, you usually go through a very passenger friendly market where people try to sell you things via “lady!” etc. Then you get into the open and people have a good time saying “taxi!” or “taxi amiga” or “taxi lady” or “taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi.” In Mazatlan, for some reason, you have the option of an Ecotaxi, which looks just like a 90’s Nissan sedan, but says “Ecotaxi,” or an open air taxi, which is a gas powered golf cart that crazy people drive like it is a Jeep roller coaster. We got a deal into the center city (or everybody pretended it was a deal, but the driver pretended “I HAVE NO CHANGE” and things worked out his way) in a car and the driver very proudly said “this car much better! Those open air ones, they flip!” which was nice, except for the fact that 3 of our buddies were in the open air version. Also, we took an open air version for about 15 minutes and experienced the driver cutting in and around traffic and happily using his horn, which sounded like a car alarm, and was a little metal button to the right of the steering wheel. Also, in our open air version, the radio speakers were a giant subwoofer you’d have in your house that were on the floor of the front seat. The glove compartment was ripped out and a car stereo was just resting on some random crap in a place that was way too big for it. We went to an all gringo area with reggaeton, “Gangsta’s Paradise,” and “Red, Red Wine” on crazy full blast. I should note that I guess I will die violently and my lungs will shrivel up and leap out of my face if I don’t hear Red Red Wine at least 56,998 times a day, since that’s what happens. Same with YMCA. The open air cab ride was very fun, even though he too had no change, which he proved with his Mazatlan-issued fake wallet.

We then went to an oyster bar and experienced the beach in Mazatlan, which was like the beach in Puerto Vallarta, insofar as every 12 seconds you are reminded of the eternal life questions: “do I want a sarong?” “do I want a henna tattoo?” “do I want a plate?” “what about a bracelet” “how about a hat” “maybe a mobile?” “do I need a Mexican blanket?” “what about a hilarious t-shirt?” “maybe a towel that says CORONA?” “or one that says PACIFICO?” “a cover up?” “what about a black cover up?” “what if the black coverup had mirrors on it?” “do I want to parasail?” So that you become what you think you will never be, which is someone who just goes “no” or frowns and shakes your head and looks away. This is because in 12 seconds, THEY COME BACK! With the SAME CRAP! I broke down and bought a mobile. This is persistence. I should note that the guy said he didn’t have any change after semi-extensive haggling. Mazatlan! The school for acting!

We went in the ocean which was very fun and something about getting beaned by waves makes you laugh, even if your suit falls off. I highly recommend the ocean if the beach is decent.

Unfortunately, I know what puta means in Spanish, which is a very unkind way to describe a female and what they said when I walked down the stairs and they missed a small opportunity to make cash via a tip by helping me down stairs. No one way paying attention except for a guy who was too far away, who said “la puta! La puta!” then they said “awww” and all walked away when they realized they were too late.

*not the actual cussword. Edited for persons who read this at work (serpe)

Power Shuffleboard and Random Information

I quietly laid out where it seemed to be safe because there was shuffleboard and those big versions of chess. And an old guy with a huge stomach and thin legs and a very deep tan reading a book. And by laid out I mean sat in my clothes and tried not to burn and read a book. This was fine until two 6 or 7 year olds decided to play demolition shuffleboard which I did not think was possible. This is how you play it: You get the pole thing that you quietly use to push the metal discs. Then you push the pellets as hard as possible, then you yell a lot, then you run down to the pellets which are all over the place, then you get them together and get in an argument about who goes first and then you do it again and when you hit the other guy’s pellet you say “OOOOH!” The old guy with the huge stomach and I stared daggers at the 6 or 7 year olds and told them to stop it with our minds and sighing. Then two 30 year olds went to the life sized chess board and flung the giant pieces from the container to the board. There are a lot of chess pieces. It is relatively quiet and game-free on the helipad, which is under the trail of diesel smoke.

Random item:

Cruise staff has to do parties every cruise. The same parties every cruise. This means that there are very very energetic Filipino gentlemen, South Africans, and one Ukranian that say “MAKE SOME NOOOO-OOOISE!” Weird.

Acrobats and Isopods

The Acrobats

We had an improv rehearsal last night at 10:45. We were on stage, doing improv-ish things, and the Chinese acrobats were in front of the stage, in between the audience and the stage, doing Chinese acrobat things. If someone told me that, I would think “oh, okay, so those Chinese people were doing cartwheels.” No. In a tiny like 5 foot wide stretch of carpet, literally the aisle, they would, say, do a handstand for like a minute without moving or wavering, then maybe, oh, do the splits while in the handstand, then maybe, oh, do the splits in the handstand then pick up one hand and just kinda, you know, be like that for a while. Or maybe, oh, spin a giant Chinese umbrella on a toe, then balance the umbrella on the rim of them umbrella and walk along the rim of it. And maybe, oh, one Chinese guy would do a handstand on the edge of the stage for like 30 seconds and maybe, oh, then to a handstand on the hands of another guy, which are stretched over guy #1’s head, so you have 2 guys stacked vertically. If they fall for any reason from this, say, because it is insane or we are on a ship that moves, they will land comfortably on the edge of a stage (wood) a carpeted floor (concrete, carpet) or a chair in the audience (vaguely padded edges). One of them is a contortionist, like for real, which raises all sorts of questions, including, “oh okay, you just did an insane stretch for a while where you kinda bent your spine in half, and somehow you stood up and frowned and rubbed one tricep, like ‘oh, that was really hard on my one tricep.’” Unfortunately, they do not speak enough English to talk to fully and/or to say stuff besides “yes.” The only Chinese I know is “thank you” and Chinese nicknames for grandma and grandpa. I can also sing the sped-up tune of beginning of the Chinese national anthem because I got a joke lighter in college. Somehow I want their story and to learn "americans are wimps" in Chinese. The one who catches jars on his neck is 20 and has been catching jars on his neck for 5 years solid or something. Fascinating.

We continue to chat with the magician on board, which is fascinating, and my favorite thing he said was “oh, I can’t wear my glasses with my short purple jacket. There is just too much going on.”

I also found out from the standup on board, second hand and not as part of his jokes, that when pugs get too excited, their eyes pop out. Like this is a common problem with the breed. And by pop out, apparently that means like: fall all the way out of their head and dangle around. This was not as interesting to said standup as a bunch of gay jokes he was trying out.

Our “steering problems” from yesterday turned out to be “one of the motors died.” Instead of going about 30 mph, we are going like 12 mph. One 30 foot wide giant underwater metal fan (called an isopod) is pushing 3,000 people. This means we are not going to Acapulco as per usual and are seeing some new Mexican ports. The official line is “these ports are interesting!” and the line amongst the crew is “the first one is shit.”

We have 45 Germans on board as part of a tour group. I know the receptionist, who is a sweetheart trash talker and German and just thought “oh no my Germans, my Germans, my Germans” as soon as they made the announcement. She has been around a while and said “oh it could be much worse, it could be an explosion” which apparently happened on one of the ships last year. Apparently some crazy things have happened, like one time when a boat pulled away and they forgot to pull up the anchor, so they burned through all this fuel and went really slowly and couldn’t figure out why. Once they almost hit a whale, but swerved to miss it, so the whole boat listed to a terrifying amount. The first announcement was “we listed” and the second one, from the captain was “we swerved to miss a whale.” Classico.