We have a few groups onboard this week. The Land O’ Lakes company, which is the same thing as Western Digital Systems [or something] which traffics in manure. Everyone who tells this story says, “so…shit. Haha, they deal in shit.”
I have noticed a high incidence of adult gentlemen picking wedgies from the lower portion of the joint of their two legs and pelvis.
We all get pet projects on the ship that we can focus on with laser intenseness that can frequently turn into violent rage only taken out on a treadmill or punching every human being you see for their sinus problems or making-licking-noise problems. So if you are me and are writing a screenplay, hello Heather, you start to get inexplicably angry at everyone and everything. And if no one wants to fight, you start discussing whether prostitution should be legal in a theoretical sense, which is guaranteed to send me into rage fireworks. Or discussing Israel/Palestine and then the problem of homelessness and then heroin and then the nagging problems of racial tensions and the difficulties of dealing with native populations. This is what I discussed tonight over free drinks in a bar on a cruise ship. It felt normal. Write a screenplay but run 3 miles per day. I did 2.24 miles and it did not do the trick.
Here are more facts about GI. I learned that when there is an outbreak, the ship personnel adds bleach to the water, to kill it. I also learned that they add some kind of a bleach to the air, because sometimes GI goes airborne, and if that happens, we will all be two way fountains and the ship will have to be quarantined.
I have also learned various remedies for colds, since I have had the plague people are passing around. The Russians say (this sounds like a stereotype): do a shot of vodka, pour cayenne pepper on top. “It burns going down and then you feel rrright as rain,” as the singer told me, right after he told me “I have been reading Uncle Tom’s Cabin. It is gooood! I really like it! I mean, it is good!” which was several paragraphs after he told me “I didn’t drink for a month and I saved $3,000. I just stay in my room.” He is a huge sweetheart, who loves Diesel.
I have found people’s various items which ruin their senses of humor. This is unfortunate, because I keep finding them, instead of focusing on shutting up. I am observant, which may be the same thing as annoying. “haha, you touch your watch constantly,” was met with deep irritation and "YOU HAVE TOO MUCH TIME ON YOUR HANDS." “Haha, you hate animals and you make licking noises with your mouth all the time” caused shouting, although it did feature this hilarious logic: “I like animals, they give me the opportunity to learn what it is that makes them likeable.” And “I really love cats! I love them! I just don’t why they are so nervous and they make me uncomfortable and like they are going to do something—I just want to be like ‘I AM NOT GOING TO HURT YOU.’” And it’s not that this person doesn’t like animals, this person just finds petting zoos to be BLATANT HYPOCRACY and refused to touch anything because this person was terrified. This is all delightful to me. Then I found our musical director’s humor deleter is the war on drugs. People are fascinating.
I laughed until I cried when someone got defensive about hair on his toes, which I think is totally normal. I asked him "are you sensitive about your feet?" to which he responded: "WHAT'S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN."
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