We are teaching improv workshops. It is wonderful because here are the questions we are always asked: “so, don’t you want to be on Saturday Night Live? I mean, is that the ultimate goal?” and then “so is this a good way to retire?” or “so can you retire with this?” or “so is this going to be what will let you retire?” This is mainly because it is filled with retirees. Retirees who maybe don’t want to do too much improv. Retirees who when you actually improvise with them, say this: “Poop.” And then after the big laugh “that always gets them.” Then that person sits down and quietly asks us questions with the “don’t you think your life is pointless” type undercurrent. It’s pretty fun and amazing. The fact that I want to kill everyone is totally unrelated. I will have to create some lie that will satisfy them, preferably one that mentions Jonathan Winters and Robin Williams. Here was a question: “so…do you think people like Jonathan Winters and Robin Williams and that are just too crazy?” Or, from a small woman who looked like the grandma from the Beverly Hillbillies, but with her hair out of the bun and sitting under what is clearly a pashmina-inspired brown wrap and her keycard on a lanyard “what about that Wayne Brady show?” which they haven’t filmed for several years. She then under her breath said “I don’t know why you’d do something and not get paid for it.” Thus, from here on out it will be bold lies. I am going to say I was on a sitcom for 4 years, but it was pornographic and in German.
We found out that Abraham Lincoln’s great great great great great whatever great grandson is working on board Royal Carribean cruiseline as a musician. He is apparently very tall and thin and a huge hit with the ladies and in a certain light, looks just like Abe Lincoln. This is my favorite new fact from today.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Monday, February 18, 2008
Valentine's Day
Now I see just how pervasive the fist pound is across global cultures. Everyone pounds fists in greeting, which 1) prevents the spread of GI because we’re not supposed to shake hands and 2) looks hilarious when it is between a tiny Indian and a Canadian or a nerdy gay dancer and a Filipino. But it is very friendly. One of the singers, who sings every night for 2 hours, said she will just never tell anyone in the main ship’s crew that she is tired because they work for like 12 hours straight. This makes sense. I almost slept by the pool, but thought better of it. I am a martyr!!!
There seems to be a small Jabba the Hut motif among the passengers by the pool.
They threw a large party for the crew for Valentine’s Day. The youth counselors all bartended, which means they opened beers as quickly as possible and poured wine as quickly as possible, and everybody walked up and inhaled them as quickly as possible. People threw ice at each other for a little bit and one of the dancers took down the “HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY” banner and wore it as a necklace and a skirt and divided it up with other people too. Some of the dancers got on the dance floor, which is not fair because they are professionals, but we were saved by the band saying “NOW BACK IT UP!” “NOW STEP TO THE RIGHT!” so it was harder for them to be inventive and original and gorgeous. A French gentleman got hit with the ice and was very upset because it went down his shirt and into his pants. In an effort get rid of the ice, we saw some of his white and black speedo-ish underwear. I was shy for him and a South African said “oh the French don’t care, they’ll show you anything” so I guess South Africans don’t like the French either? Apparently there is a rule amongst the crew that they are never allowed to get drunk because at any point there could be a drill and people would have to go and man their stations. So. Security, which is Nepalese and trained in an ancient Nepalese martial art apparently (this is not a lie), can come and randomly give a crew member a breathalyzer. If said member fails this breathalyzer, said member can be left at the next port. There is a lot of leaving-at-next port apparently. That is the threat that they…apparently do. We technically can’t do all sorts of things, but since they are not allowed to search our rooms or give us random tests, we are never going to be caught. Everyone else: has random room searches and drug tests, etc.
In a moment of post-party glee, I sat in someone’s Rascal that was parked outside of their room on our floor. There are a lot of Rascals (those are those motorized wheelchair things) and canes and general oldie-moldy-accessories. My favorite was watching one Rascal rider get very annoyed with another Rascal rider who was blocking his way to the elevator say “EXCUSE ME, guuuuH!” You are not supposed to sit on random strangers’ Rascals, even though it is a random padded chair, because there are cameras everywhere watched by some nationality and enforced by the Nepalese and apparently this is something that can get you left at the next port. Or rather, if you get drunk, then naked and then drive it around in a hallway, which apparently someone did, which is hilarious. Mom, I did not do this.
I should note that these Nepalese people say “namaste” to each other, because that means “hello.” This is delightful because I am used to serious white people saying it at the end of yoga classes very seriously and bowing over hands in the prayer position and then explaining “this means the god in me salutes the god in you. Namaste.” I would love to witness the Nepalese CRUISESHIP DEATH SQUAD! witness this.
We met a passenger who said “Hey I have an idea for you—Ozzy Ozborne meets Ozzy Nelson. Wouldn’t that be great!!!”
My other favorite quote:
“I was working out with one of the Russians.”
“Which one.”
“Um… the feather haired one?”
Everyone: “oh yeah yeah yeah.”
There seems to be a small Jabba the Hut motif among the passengers by the pool.
They threw a large party for the crew for Valentine’s Day. The youth counselors all bartended, which means they opened beers as quickly as possible and poured wine as quickly as possible, and everybody walked up and inhaled them as quickly as possible. People threw ice at each other for a little bit and one of the dancers took down the “HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY” banner and wore it as a necklace and a skirt and divided it up with other people too. Some of the dancers got on the dance floor, which is not fair because they are professionals, but we were saved by the band saying “NOW BACK IT UP!” “NOW STEP TO THE RIGHT!” so it was harder for them to be inventive and original and gorgeous. A French gentleman got hit with the ice and was very upset because it went down his shirt and into his pants. In an effort get rid of the ice, we saw some of his white and black speedo-ish underwear. I was shy for him and a South African said “oh the French don’t care, they’ll show you anything” so I guess South Africans don’t like the French either? Apparently there is a rule amongst the crew that they are never allowed to get drunk because at any point there could be a drill and people would have to go and man their stations. So. Security, which is Nepalese and trained in an ancient Nepalese martial art apparently (this is not a lie), can come and randomly give a crew member a breathalyzer. If said member fails this breathalyzer, said member can be left at the next port. There is a lot of leaving-at-next port apparently. That is the threat that they…apparently do. We technically can’t do all sorts of things, but since they are not allowed to search our rooms or give us random tests, we are never going to be caught. Everyone else: has random room searches and drug tests, etc.
In a moment of post-party glee, I sat in someone’s Rascal that was parked outside of their room on our floor. There are a lot of Rascals (those are those motorized wheelchair things) and canes and general oldie-moldy-accessories. My favorite was watching one Rascal rider get very annoyed with another Rascal rider who was blocking his way to the elevator say “EXCUSE ME, guuuuH!” You are not supposed to sit on random strangers’ Rascals, even though it is a random padded chair, because there are cameras everywhere watched by some nationality and enforced by the Nepalese and apparently this is something that can get you left at the next port. Or rather, if you get drunk, then naked and then drive it around in a hallway, which apparently someone did, which is hilarious. Mom, I did not do this.
I should note that these Nepalese people say “namaste” to each other, because that means “hello.” This is delightful because I am used to serious white people saying it at the end of yoga classes very seriously and bowing over hands in the prayer position and then explaining “this means the god in me salutes the god in you. Namaste.” I would love to witness the Nepalese CRUISESHIP DEATH SQUAD! witness this.
We met a passenger who said “Hey I have an idea for you—Ozzy Ozborne meets Ozzy Nelson. Wouldn’t that be great!!!”
My other favorite quote:
“I was working out with one of the Russians.”
“Which one.”
“Um… the feather haired one?”
Everyone: “oh yeah yeah yeah.”
Sunday, February 17, 2008
We Got Crew Status
We just got crew status. This means the amount of the ship we can see has doubled. We can now see 3 more decks where everything is beige or gray or a shade thereof. It is fascinating. There are all sorts of doors, all over the ship that say “CREW ONLY” which is a gateway to the exposed pipes and where guys walk around with a tray full of filet mignon and fist pound each other. The whole crew lives in these 3 decks.
This is where everything happens, including where 1,000 people eat and sleep and recreate, which they do with a ton of smoking and loud rap from 10 p.m. until 1 a.m. Or, if you are a cook who sleeps with 5 other people in your cabin, you go and, still in your uniform, get on the internet, or get together with 15 other cooks and zone out and watch Braveheart, too tired to take off your hat (this actually happened). When I waited tables, my apron was the symbol of rage, so I always immediately took it off. No one here does that. Serving is not an international language.
A DETAIL:
There is an underground passageway called the I-95. This is the giant hallway on the 4th deck. Off of this hallway is every appropriate officeish admin-type thing. The small difference is that everyone who works there is in uniform with epaulettes, and when you walk into payroll, everyone is in white army/navy-ish uniforms that don’t really make sense when you’ve been a secretary as long as moi. Also, you go like this “uh…” to the first two people you see and they go “go see Alma” which would make sense if you’d been there before. Then you say “who is Alma,” because that makes sense because seriously, who the shit is Alma, and they say “back and to the left” and you are in an identical room with a woman in an identical uniform who takes your card and swipes it and says “all set.” So I said, “so…now this card will open my room?” And she says: “oh no.” And I say “so will reception figure that out?” And she says: “oh no, personnel.” And this is how I came to slowly, again, learn the life lesson of “no one knows what the hell is going on.” This is general and all encompassing and has only not been true in Rudy Guiliani’s investment firm, where I temped for 2 months.
We now also have name badges. They say your name, the next line says your job, and the third line says your country of origin. Next to all of that is a tiny flag from where you’re from. Now, most people have the flag from the Philippines. [According to an unidentified cast mate, there is apparently a cultural difference vis a vis nose picking insofar as it is perfectly fine for the Filipinos on board to pick their nose because they do it in the bar and also the internet cafe. This is only upsetting because most of the waiters and cooks are Filipino. I must say, I know several Filipinos really well in my normal life who I have never witnessed do that, for the record.] If you go into the crew areas, you must wear this nametag, which is attached on the back via a magnet, a magnet so strong that if you get it by your roomkey (which is like a hotel room key credit card thing), it immediately demagnetizes it and you have to go and talk to other random people in uniforms. Because of all of this information and people’s varying degrees of the command of English, you might find yourself in an elevator like I did—4 people who all stood with their backs to the wall and inspected everyone’s badge and said nothing and frowned. I am a particular curiosity because I was the only person with no uniform on, so everyone was staring at my badge. Also you must wear your badge at all times when in the crew areas.
Upstairs, everything is theme and THIS IS WHERE YOU SHOP! or THIS IS A FRENCH RESTAURANT! or THIS IS A COMFY SMALL IRISH PUB WITH SPORTS ON TV! (even though everyone on staff is Filipino). Downstairs, everything is beige or gray or somewhere in there. Sometimes there are stainless steel doors or random tinfoil covering pipes and things. The crew hallways are very tiny, a little bigger than the aisle in an airplane, unless I’m being overdramatic (possible) and the rooms are shockingly small. It’s like people live in filing cabinets, and this is partially because their names are listed on the door on little cards that slide into a metal frame. Like…a filing cabinet. Sometimes there are 6 to a room, although those are apparently very big and we are NOT supposed to feel bad about those guys (as I was told). The two dancers who share a room didn’t seem to mind it though, even though the width of the room was the width of their bed, which was a bunk bed. In my room, the lighting is always soft, yellowish, and not bright at all, to the point that it’s almost annoying and you can’t see things. The crew rooms have florescent light bulbs, so that each bed has a curtain you can pull to shut the bed to get rid of some of the light. The rooms are unreal and tiny and the dancers are relatively happy, which seems unreal and impossible. Although one dancer said to the other “why does it smell so disgusting in here” and the other one said “I don’t know” but well…the rooms are so tiny there is only really one reason.
The branding of this ship means that everything they want to tell passengers is in a breezy “hey, we don’t care, we’re so relaxed!” type font that kinda looks like handwriting if you wrote with a paintbrush and could still do lowercase. Like one warning sign says “Please don’t throw anything overboard. (we get complaints from the fish!)” Friendly, and to the point and probably incredibly hilarious for some people. Everything is always printed on the same stationery with snazzy colored corners (like pink and teal). The great thing is the difference between those signs and the signs in the crew area, which are printed on the same stationery but usually all caps and in Ariel.
Also, the passengers love to complain and compare and contrast. I.e. “well on PRINCESS” which I think is the exact reason you switch cruise lines.
This is where everything happens, including where 1,000 people eat and sleep and recreate, which they do with a ton of smoking and loud rap from 10 p.m. until 1 a.m. Or, if you are a cook who sleeps with 5 other people in your cabin, you go and, still in your uniform, get on the internet, or get together with 15 other cooks and zone out and watch Braveheart, too tired to take off your hat (this actually happened). When I waited tables, my apron was the symbol of rage, so I always immediately took it off. No one here does that. Serving is not an international language.
A DETAIL:
There is an underground passageway called the I-95. This is the giant hallway on the 4th deck. Off of this hallway is every appropriate officeish admin-type thing. The small difference is that everyone who works there is in uniform with epaulettes, and when you walk into payroll, everyone is in white army/navy-ish uniforms that don’t really make sense when you’ve been a secretary as long as moi. Also, you go like this “uh…” to the first two people you see and they go “go see Alma” which would make sense if you’d been there before. Then you say “who is Alma,” because that makes sense because seriously, who the shit is Alma, and they say “back and to the left” and you are in an identical room with a woman in an identical uniform who takes your card and swipes it and says “all set.” So I said, “so…now this card will open my room?” And she says: “oh no.” And I say “so will reception figure that out?” And she says: “oh no, personnel.” And this is how I came to slowly, again, learn the life lesson of “no one knows what the hell is going on.” This is general and all encompassing and has only not been true in Rudy Guiliani’s investment firm, where I temped for 2 months.
We now also have name badges. They say your name, the next line says your job, and the third line says your country of origin. Next to all of that is a tiny flag from where you’re from. Now, most people have the flag from the Philippines. [According to an unidentified cast mate, there is apparently a cultural difference vis a vis nose picking insofar as it is perfectly fine for the Filipinos on board to pick their nose because they do it in the bar and also the internet cafe. This is only upsetting because most of the waiters and cooks are Filipino. I must say, I know several Filipinos really well in my normal life who I have never witnessed do that, for the record.] If you go into the crew areas, you must wear this nametag, which is attached on the back via a magnet, a magnet so strong that if you get it by your roomkey (which is like a hotel room key credit card thing), it immediately demagnetizes it and you have to go and talk to other random people in uniforms. Because of all of this information and people’s varying degrees of the command of English, you might find yourself in an elevator like I did—4 people who all stood with their backs to the wall and inspected everyone’s badge and said nothing and frowned. I am a particular curiosity because I was the only person with no uniform on, so everyone was staring at my badge. Also you must wear your badge at all times when in the crew areas.
Upstairs, everything is theme and THIS IS WHERE YOU SHOP! or THIS IS A FRENCH RESTAURANT! or THIS IS A COMFY SMALL IRISH PUB WITH SPORTS ON TV! (even though everyone on staff is Filipino). Downstairs, everything is beige or gray or somewhere in there. Sometimes there are stainless steel doors or random tinfoil covering pipes and things. The crew hallways are very tiny, a little bigger than the aisle in an airplane, unless I’m being overdramatic (possible) and the rooms are shockingly small. It’s like people live in filing cabinets, and this is partially because their names are listed on the door on little cards that slide into a metal frame. Like…a filing cabinet. Sometimes there are 6 to a room, although those are apparently very big and we are NOT supposed to feel bad about those guys (as I was told). The two dancers who share a room didn’t seem to mind it though, even though the width of the room was the width of their bed, which was a bunk bed. In my room, the lighting is always soft, yellowish, and not bright at all, to the point that it’s almost annoying and you can’t see things. The crew rooms have florescent light bulbs, so that each bed has a curtain you can pull to shut the bed to get rid of some of the light. The rooms are unreal and tiny and the dancers are relatively happy, which seems unreal and impossible. Although one dancer said to the other “why does it smell so disgusting in here” and the other one said “I don’t know” but well…the rooms are so tiny there is only really one reason.
The branding of this ship means that everything they want to tell passengers is in a breezy “hey, we don’t care, we’re so relaxed!” type font that kinda looks like handwriting if you wrote with a paintbrush and could still do lowercase. Like one warning sign says “Please don’t throw anything overboard. (we get complaints from the fish!)” Friendly, and to the point and probably incredibly hilarious for some people. Everything is always printed on the same stationery with snazzy colored corners (like pink and teal). The great thing is the difference between those signs and the signs in the crew area, which are printed on the same stationery but usually all caps and in Ariel.
Also, the passengers love to complain and compare and contrast. I.e. “well on PRINCESS” which I think is the exact reason you switch cruise lines.
We Met the Captain
The captain of the ship is a fun round guy named Lars who is from Sweden. We had lunch with him today. My last temp job, it took several weeks for my boss to learn my first name. Now somehow we can have lunch with the guy in control of 2,000 humans eating ice cream constantly and 1,000 humans working like crazy people. He lives in Thailand because that way he “can drive his Harley in December, and you can’t do that in Sweden.” He works 12 weeks on, 12 weeks off. This is this guy’s life. That’s insane.
The ship is powered by 1,400 tons of fuel. This is how much it takes to go on each cruise, down to Acapulco and back to LA. This is on one of the bottom decks, stored in something. I said “does it take up a whole deck?” and he said “oh noooo” in the way of all people at their job, meaning they think the answer is obvious. So I said “would it fill this restaurant?” which is a huge restaurant about the size of 75% of a football field. He said “oh noooo. Remember a ton is a cubic meter.” So I have no idea what that means, but basically there is a ton of fuel somewhere, but not as much as you’d think if you’ve worked as a temp in an office and have my name.
He also said the one ship he quit was because there was an arsonist on the crew (not an official capacity) who was setting fire to like…dirty laundry and cutting the fire alarms. Also, apparently the main risk is in the laundry because there is so much dust from the clothes and if they don’t keep it clean, it can explode. You know. Obviously.
He told us about going through the Panama Canal, that this ship is one of the biggest ships ever to pass through it. It has, on either side of the boat, about 5 inches of clearance. They refer to this width of the ship: Panamax. To go from the Atlantic to the Pacific, you go in, go up 3 lochs, get to a lake, then go down 3 lochs. All for the bargain price of about $250,000.
Our captain started out as a deck hand, which means that he has no pretension about him and that he says he only goes to the bridge (where the ship’s controls are) about once a day because “that’s where the coffee machine is.” We all talked to him like he was a magic king because he is because he drives our house. He had to cancel dinner plans from the night before because “there is too much fog.” Why the hell would…oh right, you’re a captain. Also, apparently this massive thing is controlled by hilariously small little joysticks that are like the size of the top of your pinkie. And those joysticks can control the ships movements to the inch. I guess you can manage the ship with all GPS now, so if the waves are rocky, you can still manage to keep it in one place with little tiny adjuster jet movements.
I also met my second working magician last night who logically knows the only other working magician I know. To the point that they did a show together. And he knows the 2 magicians I took a class with in LA. When I told him how amazing one of the magicians was, for walking on stage and pulling a live rabbit out of his hair, he said “well, it should be a WHITE rabbit. Because a black rabbit, I mean, who cares. He obviously had it in his hair or something and kept it there with paperclips or whatever.” Delightful. Also, I saw his point. This is all ridiculous.
Also, one of my cast mates has violent opinions about magic and magic tricks. This is the same cast member who wishes he could be a woman so he could get more accessories, like shoes and a purse that match. He is sincere about these things, which is delightful.
The ship is powered by 1,400 tons of fuel. This is how much it takes to go on each cruise, down to Acapulco and back to LA. This is on one of the bottom decks, stored in something. I said “does it take up a whole deck?” and he said “oh noooo” in the way of all people at their job, meaning they think the answer is obvious. So I said “would it fill this restaurant?” which is a huge restaurant about the size of 75% of a football field. He said “oh noooo. Remember a ton is a cubic meter.” So I have no idea what that means, but basically there is a ton of fuel somewhere, but not as much as you’d think if you’ve worked as a temp in an office and have my name.
He also said the one ship he quit was because there was an arsonist on the crew (not an official capacity) who was setting fire to like…dirty laundry and cutting the fire alarms. Also, apparently the main risk is in the laundry because there is so much dust from the clothes and if they don’t keep it clean, it can explode. You know. Obviously.
He told us about going through the Panama Canal, that this ship is one of the biggest ships ever to pass through it. It has, on either side of the boat, about 5 inches of clearance. They refer to this width of the ship: Panamax. To go from the Atlantic to the Pacific, you go in, go up 3 lochs, get to a lake, then go down 3 lochs. All for the bargain price of about $250,000.
Our captain started out as a deck hand, which means that he has no pretension about him and that he says he only goes to the bridge (where the ship’s controls are) about once a day because “that’s where the coffee machine is.” We all talked to him like he was a magic king because he is because he drives our house. He had to cancel dinner plans from the night before because “there is too much fog.” Why the hell would…oh right, you’re a captain. Also, apparently this massive thing is controlled by hilariously small little joysticks that are like the size of the top of your pinkie. And those joysticks can control the ships movements to the inch. I guess you can manage the ship with all GPS now, so if the waves are rocky, you can still manage to keep it in one place with little tiny adjuster jet movements.
I also met my second working magician last night who logically knows the only other working magician I know. To the point that they did a show together. And he knows the 2 magicians I took a class with in LA. When I told him how amazing one of the magicians was, for walking on stage and pulling a live rabbit out of his hair, he said “well, it should be a WHITE rabbit. Because a black rabbit, I mean, who cares. He obviously had it in his hair or something and kept it there with paperclips or whatever.” Delightful. Also, I saw his point. This is all ridiculous.
Also, one of my cast mates has violent opinions about magic and magic tricks. This is the same cast member who wishes he could be a woman so he could get more accessories, like shoes and a purse that match. He is sincere about these things, which is delightful.
Monday, February 11, 2008
The Basics of This Thing
This will only be interesting to those of you who do not live on ships and never have. Here are the basic details of the thing:
So I live in a window-free interior room, in the passenger section, towards the back of the ship. There are two beds, which are both about 3.5” wide. We finagled two pillows apiece, but I think this is an indication that we are sneaky. Over one bed is an optional pull down cot (with no cot in it). All in all, the room is about 10’ wide and probably 20’ long. In that length, we also have a closet, fridge, little vanity station, little desk, decent bathroom and a bunch of shelves. So it is kinda like there is a lot of room, meaning there are a lot of places to cram things. The bathroom has a little shower that is pretty nice and a nice sink and a toilet. It’s not as crammed as say a railroad cabin. A New Yorker would be very comfortable. Unless that New Yorker were rich. Also, a crew person told us that our showers are much nicer than the crew ones, where overweight people have to “you know, wash their front, get out, go back in and wash their back” because the showers are so narrow.
Each cruise is 8 days long. It kinda goes like this:
Day 1: Los Angeles (really San Pedro)
Day 2: At Sea, in a hotel, with 3,500 other people, 1,094 of whom are workers who work something insane like 12 hours a day for very little pay in a US opinion, but a king’s ransom in the opinion of South Africa, the Philippines, etc., 6 of whom are workers who do 4 shows a week and 2 lectures and who marginally fear resentment-based poisoning (that’s us).
Day 3: At Sea, same hotel, same 3,500 other people, find one person you will see over and over—for this cruise, it is a middle aged woman who has dyed her very short hair black and then the bangs florescent pink. She is usually frowning.
Day 4: Acapulco from morning until midnight. Therefore: wild party day. The one night the (very good) lounge singer can drink, since she sings 6 nights a week. This fact is regarded with pity and empathy at her personal tradgedy.
Day 5: Zhuatenejo/Ixtapa from 7 a.m. until 2 p.m. 6 lazy workers say “we’re barely there!” because they get up at 11 a.m. typically. These workers are: us.
Day 6: Puerto Vallarta until 5 p.m. We spend this day rehearsing so far. Or: going to a resort with a swim up bar. We may not go too much, or at least not sit under the huts on the beach. A crotchety rotund older gentleman with insane snaggle toes said “you make a lot of people upset when you come here” because we are dirty gypsies from a dirty cruise ship. The people who have the right to be there (his opinion) loudly proclaimed “SO MY PODIATRIST SAID TO PUT MONISTAT ON MY FEET” during a very loud conversation. A castmate said “I can’t take it any more.” Every 5-10 minutes you are offered something to purchase from people who troll the beach and activate your guilt reflex. My favorite was “feesh. Feesh.” Which featured bright red fish on a skewer, also shrimp.
Day 7: Cabo San Lucas until 3:30 p.m. We spend this day going to a resort with a swim up bar and free wireless but $4 water. Still, that’s fair.
Day 8: At Sea, in hotel, same 3,500 people who have learned their way around.
Day 9, which is also day 1: Los Angeles (really San Pedro) with the bliss of a cellphone and a strong desire to call everyone you have ever met and to run in a field.
A cruise veteran friend of mine said the hardest thing to get used to was barely working. This is a hilarious problem to have, but is our problem. You must harness your imagination for good, not turn on one another, keep busy, try to have a vegetable and accept that the cookies will be there tomorrow, in the same delicious formation, and that you don’t really like them too much anyway, and that just because something is free does not mean you should try to put as much of it as possible into your body, and that alcohol can be enjoyed in moderation. I read a book a week so far and am succeeding and failing to varying degrees in relation to these challenges.
Pretty much every night, someone says “do you want to go to the Spinnaker?” which is a lounge on the top floor. This is the meeting place/bar. It is entirely normal except that you will get in conversations with Chinese acrobats (logically) who can’t speak a ton of English, which is a shame because they can do insane things like spin a table with their feet and play peek-a-boo in front of their face with their feet. But do anything for 3 years straight and I guess you get sick of it, even if it is your ability to throw large ceramic pots 15 feet in the air and catch them on the back of your neck or on the corner of the lip of the pot so that it is balanced on the middle of your head (actual person). You might also chat with a 20 year-old ex-ballerina from Britain and her gymnast boyfriend, or a female dancer from Belarus who says “well, I used to be an Olympic gymnast” in a very “I’m bored with myself” type of way and “yeah yeah, I did all that ribbon and ball stuff.” Equally boring to her is her ability to stand on one leg and lift the other one straight up and almost behind her head.
We have rehearsals, which are pretty normal, except they may be stopped with “WHAT WAS THAT!” because random bat manta rays are flinging themselves out of the ocean to flip in the air. Or you see a group of dolphins, or about 40 whale spouts in 20 minutes. Sometimes a whale tail. That is very insane.
Random additional information:
Jobs on board I have overheard: one woman has to go around the buffet and sanitize every single serving spoon and tong that someone could possibly touch. She (South African) was complaining to the server (Indian) behind the buffet line that she had 2 more hours of sanitizing. The guys who work our spotlights spend most of their time in the laundry…working. The guys who play music for 6 hours a day (Filipino) also go outside and put on a mustache and native Mexican garb to pose for “Welcome to Mexico!” photos with passengers.
Favorite overheard from a completely hammered group of adults, regarding their adult children and their unwillingness to hear about certain aspects of their parents' lives: “Are you kidding! The first kid was a Rum Baby, the second one was a Marguerita Baby—HAHAHAHAHAHA!”
It is unappealing to watch most people eat an ice cream cone.
So I live in a window-free interior room, in the passenger section, towards the back of the ship. There are two beds, which are both about 3.5” wide. We finagled two pillows apiece, but I think this is an indication that we are sneaky. Over one bed is an optional pull down cot (with no cot in it). All in all, the room is about 10’ wide and probably 20’ long. In that length, we also have a closet, fridge, little vanity station, little desk, decent bathroom and a bunch of shelves. So it is kinda like there is a lot of room, meaning there are a lot of places to cram things. The bathroom has a little shower that is pretty nice and a nice sink and a toilet. It’s not as crammed as say a railroad cabin. A New Yorker would be very comfortable. Unless that New Yorker were rich. Also, a crew person told us that our showers are much nicer than the crew ones, where overweight people have to “you know, wash their front, get out, go back in and wash their back” because the showers are so narrow.
Each cruise is 8 days long. It kinda goes like this:
Day 1: Los Angeles (really San Pedro)
Day 2: At Sea, in a hotel, with 3,500 other people, 1,094 of whom are workers who work something insane like 12 hours a day for very little pay in a US opinion, but a king’s ransom in the opinion of South Africa, the Philippines, etc., 6 of whom are workers who do 4 shows a week and 2 lectures and who marginally fear resentment-based poisoning (that’s us).
Day 3: At Sea, same hotel, same 3,500 other people, find one person you will see over and over—for this cruise, it is a middle aged woman who has dyed her very short hair black and then the bangs florescent pink. She is usually frowning.
Day 4: Acapulco from morning until midnight. Therefore: wild party day. The one night the (very good) lounge singer can drink, since she sings 6 nights a week. This fact is regarded with pity and empathy at her personal tradgedy.
Day 5: Zhuatenejo/Ixtapa from 7 a.m. until 2 p.m. 6 lazy workers say “we’re barely there!” because they get up at 11 a.m. typically. These workers are: us.
Day 6: Puerto Vallarta until 5 p.m. We spend this day rehearsing so far. Or: going to a resort with a swim up bar. We may not go too much, or at least not sit under the huts on the beach. A crotchety rotund older gentleman with insane snaggle toes said “you make a lot of people upset when you come here” because we are dirty gypsies from a dirty cruise ship. The people who have the right to be there (his opinion) loudly proclaimed “SO MY PODIATRIST SAID TO PUT MONISTAT ON MY FEET” during a very loud conversation. A castmate said “I can’t take it any more.” Every 5-10 minutes you are offered something to purchase from people who troll the beach and activate your guilt reflex. My favorite was “feesh. Feesh.” Which featured bright red fish on a skewer, also shrimp.
Day 7: Cabo San Lucas until 3:30 p.m. We spend this day going to a resort with a swim up bar and free wireless but $4 water. Still, that’s fair.
Day 8: At Sea, in hotel, same 3,500 people who have learned their way around.
Day 9, which is also day 1: Los Angeles (really San Pedro) with the bliss of a cellphone and a strong desire to call everyone you have ever met and to run in a field.
A cruise veteran friend of mine said the hardest thing to get used to was barely working. This is a hilarious problem to have, but is our problem. You must harness your imagination for good, not turn on one another, keep busy, try to have a vegetable and accept that the cookies will be there tomorrow, in the same delicious formation, and that you don’t really like them too much anyway, and that just because something is free does not mean you should try to put as much of it as possible into your body, and that alcohol can be enjoyed in moderation. I read a book a week so far and am succeeding and failing to varying degrees in relation to these challenges.
Pretty much every night, someone says “do you want to go to the Spinnaker?” which is a lounge on the top floor. This is the meeting place/bar. It is entirely normal except that you will get in conversations with Chinese acrobats (logically) who can’t speak a ton of English, which is a shame because they can do insane things like spin a table with their feet and play peek-a-boo in front of their face with their feet. But do anything for 3 years straight and I guess you get sick of it, even if it is your ability to throw large ceramic pots 15 feet in the air and catch them on the back of your neck or on the corner of the lip of the pot so that it is balanced on the middle of your head (actual person). You might also chat with a 20 year-old ex-ballerina from Britain and her gymnast boyfriend, or a female dancer from Belarus who says “well, I used to be an Olympic gymnast” in a very “I’m bored with myself” type of way and “yeah yeah, I did all that ribbon and ball stuff.” Equally boring to her is her ability to stand on one leg and lift the other one straight up and almost behind her head.
We have rehearsals, which are pretty normal, except they may be stopped with “WHAT WAS THAT!” because random bat manta rays are flinging themselves out of the ocean to flip in the air. Or you see a group of dolphins, or about 40 whale spouts in 20 minutes. Sometimes a whale tail. That is very insane.
Random additional information:
Jobs on board I have overheard: one woman has to go around the buffet and sanitize every single serving spoon and tong that someone could possibly touch. She (South African) was complaining to the server (Indian) behind the buffet line that she had 2 more hours of sanitizing. The guys who work our spotlights spend most of their time in the laundry…working. The guys who play music for 6 hours a day (Filipino) also go outside and put on a mustache and native Mexican garb to pose for “Welcome to Mexico!” photos with passengers.
Favorite overheard from a completely hammered group of adults, regarding their adult children and their unwillingness to hear about certain aspects of their parents' lives: “Are you kidding! The first kid was a Rum Baby, the second one was a Marguerita Baby—HAHAHAHAHAHA!”
It is unappealing to watch most people eat an ice cream cone.
Saturday, February 9, 2008
Still weird
Everything is fine, I do not have the Norwalk virus, I am not in love with a Filipino, a Jamaican, a gentleman from St. Lucia, or some guy from Argentina. If you speak English and are from those countries, you will probably work on a cruise ship if you’re into it. This is what I am learning. I am also learning that I have somehow joined a weird hotel version of the circus, and if interested, could work on cruise ships until I am dead or my liver explodes.
We went out in Acupulco again, because that is what you do. First we went to, logically, a mall. The first thing you see is a giant Applebee’s, then you have the choice of a Starbuck’s and a bunch of shoe stores, and 3 people went to see American Gangster (with Spanish subtitles). So. Acupulco seems to be mainly urinal cakes. The bathroom was aggressively urinal caked (the women’s bathroom). The club was aggressively tourist oriented, i.e. big smile+question+resulting expenditure for tchotchkee. The best was a middle aged-plus-ish woman with short hair and glasses who had a digital camera and a t-shirt that said “100% HORNY” on the back of it, just like that. She’d say “oh would you like a picture?” big smile. We were warned and shooed her away immediately because we were told that she’d just print it out in the back, put it in a frame, and then ask for $10. A guy who said “What’s your name?” big smile and then put it on the inside of a shell as if he just painted it. We witnessed a table of large intoxicated people from the ship fall for this. We did not, because we were warned. Guilt farming!
There were a group of parrots in the bar as well, for decoration. They were described thusly by the lead male singer who is very nice and rocks out “Come Sail Away” in one of the spectacle shows: “fucking parrot. I stood next to it for a picture, and it bit me! It fucking bit me and it drew blood!” I also ended up overpaying for dinner, having over-estimated the cost of drinks and stuff. I was expecting change, and got a large smile and “thank you very much!” and a handshake. I was stunned and walked away, and this is how you fleece a tourist. Also, you offer them a bunch of “100% HORNY!” gear, which was being modeled by a bunch of unattractive middle aged Mexican persons. Or, a t-shirt with “ANOTHER SHITTY DAY IN PARADISE” on the back, which I didn’t really get.
You dine right next to a pool which is below a what? A bungee jumping platform. It actually looks kinda fun in a spring break way and the risk of a Mexican death. You can ask to not hit the water, hit the water with your hand, or get your head in the water. The wonders of math! Also, you get a punch card. Your 5th jump is free. The rumor was they were going to get dolphins in the pool, but this is probably so people would keep coming back to see if they got them which they never did. “Are you from the ship? We might get dolphins!” A bunch of people bungee jumped, more as the night went on, and people kept saying “oh you HAVE to do it” and then also “yeah, although all the blood vessels burst around my eyes when I did it. Yeah. I don’t know what it was. The gravity? Anyway. Yeah.” The drinks on the top floor were, logically, 2 for 1, and people ran around with whistles and handed out balloons, the kind you twist if you’re a clown. The DJ kept yelling about “NORWEEGAAN STAAAARRR!” and the dancers danced like crazy persons with hot bodies and incredible rhthym and we danced amazingly (my opnion) and the lighting guy said “oh, I just love watching Second City dance. It’s always so funny.” Fool. Then our music director got upset that “you don’t have to look gay when you dance” even though…all the dancers are gay. Then into the spazzy freakout on the dance floor, was my favorite: a woman FROM THE SHIP™ with cornrows and what? A neckbrace. Delightful.
We finished the night in the hot tub. One of my cast mates loves the hot tub to a hilarious degree, to the point that he suggested having rehearsal in the hot tub and also ate a giant cheeseburger in the hot tub during a 2 hour stint today. This is my current life. Also, in my current life, this does not make him stand out from the clientele. I saw a woman wearing a pink tent. I also witnessed a “Hairy Chest Contest!” with 4 incredibly hairy middle aged guys and the wife of one of them. She was in a blind fold and tried to identify her husband by his chest hair. She felt his last, of course, and guessed immediately. The gentlemen getting manhandled were very extremely rotund and usually had hair all over their bodies except their head. One guy seemed clearly Italian and had hair on his shoulders. If anyone is looking for more stock footage of the obesity epidemic, I have a source! Also, stock footage of random Europeans in speedos: I have a source! I also saw a very very tan very thin older gentleman with a wide white handle bar mustache, tiny speedo and what? Logically: large nipple rings the size of earrings. Oh vacation.
When they win these contests, they are given a little award ribbon thing like Miss America. So a gentlemen that was like 5’4” and bald and running around the buffet on the top floor with his ladyfriend had “MR. SEXYLEGS 2008” written in marker on white tape on a ribbon across his chest.
Today I had 3 desserts. I attempted a night without drinking and ended up doing 2 jello shots because I live in college apparently. Tonight I am actually staying in. You do not think it is possible to eat whatever you want at all times, but it is. It is possible to show up to a restaurant (i.e. theme area) and say “can I have that dessert heh heh heh” and then get it to go, eat it in your room, leave it buy your door, and then go out and do it again. This is because this is what we did.
Everything on the ship is theme area, which is great. My favorite is the Internet Café, which has @ all over the carpet. @! @! @! And crazy purple triangles which means THE FUTURE.
I am regularly waking up in the middle of the night and have crazy acidic stomach at all times. A friend said the hardest thing to get used to was barely ever working. I can see how this makes sense.
We went to the crew’s favorite bar, which was about a 45 minute walk from where the boat docked. Basically, if you would like to know what the coast of Acupulco is like, just thinking of the most college spring break type coastal thingie. The strip of clubs everyone loves in the crew has an upper bar section, a lower bar section, and then a separate row of beach chairs and stuff that was served separately. Anyway, the nice thing about it is that it is blatantly a tourist trap and no one pretends otherwise. Everyone says “are you from the ship?” in English. This is probably because we are white and in comfortable shoes and around 3000 people hit the strip of stuff. Every car is a VW bug—the first version of the VW bug—and somehow still pretty nice. But I mean, in a 3 lane road, that is 3 lanes both ways, it might be full of cars and seriously, all of them are taxis. We got a cab ride with 4 of us and drove like insane bats out of hell all the way there.
I should note that we all have, at all times, the option of laundry. Here is how hard it is to do laundry: but in bag, leave it outside your door, wait one day. Get it back, entirely ironed and hung up where appropriate. In the opinion of the laundry humans, t-shirts are hung.
It is difficult to get used to not paying after meals and taking drinks out of one theme area into another theme area. Here, we can go to a bar, then go back to our room to make a drink, then go back up to the bar to drink it. No one minds. I do not accept this as fact. It is a fact. I do not accept it.
I saw an incredibly large pair of underwear on an incredibly large woman who had just had a massage and came to join me in the sauna. In my opinion, there was no light on. She agreed, I sat by the door, so if I died, someone could at least catch a glance from the light in the hall. She had clearly just had her first massage and said how crazy it was that they wanted her to go to the steamroom and then into the sauna and how they didn’t warn her about having a bathing suit and now her underwear were going to get wet. She was also very modest and blown away by the sauna and “how does anyone lay down in here!” She then very shyly asked if she could take her top off. Her top was a towel, but whatever. She then tried to explain why and how she just needed to dry off and that I shouldn’t stay longer than 3 to 5 minutes, even though the hourglass was clearly longer than 5 minutes in her opinion. I did not say “I’M AN LA WEIRDO! PLEASE STOP TALKING!!!” but I wanted to do that. We met another passenger couple who were from the Kentucky side of Cincinnati, one half of which was a woman who made her living working at VA hospitals all over the country. I have heard tales of VA hospitals. They aren’t happy ones, and usually involve cutting off the wrong leg. I said nothing and she pitied my parents for me getting a theater degree when I went to such an expensive school. We talked to a few Navy vets who now go on cruises. One couple was great, one was a large gentlemen who let us witness him eating potato chips from the inside of his mouth. So. We’ll see how long we fraternize with the passengers in this manner.
It is slightly unfortunate that we are now friends with dancers and ballerinas. One ballerina is regularly lifted each show. This would be more incredible if she didn’t weigh less than a 5th grader. Also the other cast person who dates one of the dancers told us how much they weigh. No one stabbed him in the face. This is because we lacked implements. So. We can be Goldilocks with giant naked women in the spa (porridge too hot) and tiny gorgeous dancers in our social circle (too cold). Don’t they eat Goldilocks?
ALSO:
The people watching is pretty much off the charts. It’s all kinda wonderful in a very specific way that if you are not sleeping or eating properly can make you very upset. The couple we met in the hot tub were very nice and here is what I remember of their conversation. First of all, she made it clear right away that they were NOT married but that this is their second cruise together. She ran VA hospital with 1400 employees and she is most interested in what goes on behind the scenes on the cruise ship. She was slightly stressed about feeding and bathing everyone and taking care of everyone’s clothes and all of that. They DID see the comedian from the night before, but had to leave after a while and she only saw part of it because she fell asleep “because she is diabetic and any spike in blood sugar will make you fall asleep and I had some red wine so forget it.” Her son went to a school near my hometown and he really loves Indy right now and it’s a great place for young people (this is wildly not true) but can still be by his mom but you know, not too close so that it’s annoying. The male half then talked about how his daughter would love to work on a cruise and then the female half informed us that we are allowing our parents to live vicariously through us (do you hear that parents??) and that p.s. that other hot tub really only works if you have a stone on your stomach, otherwise you’ll flap around. The male half then gave a long speech about how wonderful his daughter is and they both seriously inquired about how one goes about getting a job on a cruise ship because she’d be so good at it.
We went out in Acupulco again, because that is what you do. First we went to, logically, a mall. The first thing you see is a giant Applebee’s, then you have the choice of a Starbuck’s and a bunch of shoe stores, and 3 people went to see American Gangster (with Spanish subtitles). So. Acupulco seems to be mainly urinal cakes. The bathroom was aggressively urinal caked (the women’s bathroom). The club was aggressively tourist oriented, i.e. big smile+question+resulting expenditure for tchotchkee. The best was a middle aged-plus-ish woman with short hair and glasses who had a digital camera and a t-shirt that said “100% HORNY” on the back of it, just like that. She’d say “oh would you like a picture?” big smile. We were warned and shooed her away immediately because we were told that she’d just print it out in the back, put it in a frame, and then ask for $10. A guy who said “What’s your name?” big smile and then put it on the inside of a shell as if he just painted it. We witnessed a table of large intoxicated people from the ship fall for this. We did not, because we were warned. Guilt farming!
There were a group of parrots in the bar as well, for decoration. They were described thusly by the lead male singer who is very nice and rocks out “Come Sail Away” in one of the spectacle shows: “fucking parrot. I stood next to it for a picture, and it bit me! It fucking bit me and it drew blood!” I also ended up overpaying for dinner, having over-estimated the cost of drinks and stuff. I was expecting change, and got a large smile and “thank you very much!” and a handshake. I was stunned and walked away, and this is how you fleece a tourist. Also, you offer them a bunch of “100% HORNY!” gear, which was being modeled by a bunch of unattractive middle aged Mexican persons. Or, a t-shirt with “ANOTHER SHITTY DAY IN PARADISE” on the back, which I didn’t really get.
You dine right next to a pool which is below a what? A bungee jumping platform. It actually looks kinda fun in a spring break way and the risk of a Mexican death. You can ask to not hit the water, hit the water with your hand, or get your head in the water. The wonders of math! Also, you get a punch card. Your 5th jump is free. The rumor was they were going to get dolphins in the pool, but this is probably so people would keep coming back to see if they got them which they never did. “Are you from the ship? We might get dolphins!” A bunch of people bungee jumped, more as the night went on, and people kept saying “oh you HAVE to do it” and then also “yeah, although all the blood vessels burst around my eyes when I did it. Yeah. I don’t know what it was. The gravity? Anyway. Yeah.” The drinks on the top floor were, logically, 2 for 1, and people ran around with whistles and handed out balloons, the kind you twist if you’re a clown. The DJ kept yelling about “NORWEEGAAN STAAAARRR!” and the dancers danced like crazy persons with hot bodies and incredible rhthym and we danced amazingly (my opnion) and the lighting guy said “oh, I just love watching Second City dance. It’s always so funny.” Fool. Then our music director got upset that “you don’t have to look gay when you dance” even though…all the dancers are gay. Then into the spazzy freakout on the dance floor, was my favorite: a woman FROM THE SHIP™ with cornrows and what? A neckbrace. Delightful.
We finished the night in the hot tub. One of my cast mates loves the hot tub to a hilarious degree, to the point that he suggested having rehearsal in the hot tub and also ate a giant cheeseburger in the hot tub during a 2 hour stint today. This is my current life. Also, in my current life, this does not make him stand out from the clientele. I saw a woman wearing a pink tent. I also witnessed a “Hairy Chest Contest!” with 4 incredibly hairy middle aged guys and the wife of one of them. She was in a blind fold and tried to identify her husband by his chest hair. She felt his last, of course, and guessed immediately. The gentlemen getting manhandled were very extremely rotund and usually had hair all over their bodies except their head. One guy seemed clearly Italian and had hair on his shoulders. If anyone is looking for more stock footage of the obesity epidemic, I have a source! Also, stock footage of random Europeans in speedos: I have a source! I also saw a very very tan very thin older gentleman with a wide white handle bar mustache, tiny speedo and what? Logically: large nipple rings the size of earrings. Oh vacation.
When they win these contests, they are given a little award ribbon thing like Miss America. So a gentlemen that was like 5’4” and bald and running around the buffet on the top floor with his ladyfriend had “MR. SEXYLEGS 2008” written in marker on white tape on a ribbon across his chest.
Today I had 3 desserts. I attempted a night without drinking and ended up doing 2 jello shots because I live in college apparently. Tonight I am actually staying in. You do not think it is possible to eat whatever you want at all times, but it is. It is possible to show up to a restaurant (i.e. theme area) and say “can I have that dessert heh heh heh” and then get it to go, eat it in your room, leave it buy your door, and then go out and do it again. This is because this is what we did.
Everything on the ship is theme area, which is great. My favorite is the Internet Café, which has @ all over the carpet. @! @! @! And crazy purple triangles which means THE FUTURE.
I am regularly waking up in the middle of the night and have crazy acidic stomach at all times. A friend said the hardest thing to get used to was barely ever working. I can see how this makes sense.
We went to the crew’s favorite bar, which was about a 45 minute walk from where the boat docked. Basically, if you would like to know what the coast of Acupulco is like, just thinking of the most college spring break type coastal thingie. The strip of clubs everyone loves in the crew has an upper bar section, a lower bar section, and then a separate row of beach chairs and stuff that was served separately. Anyway, the nice thing about it is that it is blatantly a tourist trap and no one pretends otherwise. Everyone says “are you from the ship?” in English. This is probably because we are white and in comfortable shoes and around 3000 people hit the strip of stuff. Every car is a VW bug—the first version of the VW bug—and somehow still pretty nice. But I mean, in a 3 lane road, that is 3 lanes both ways, it might be full of cars and seriously, all of them are taxis. We got a cab ride with 4 of us and drove like insane bats out of hell all the way there.
I should note that we all have, at all times, the option of laundry. Here is how hard it is to do laundry: but in bag, leave it outside your door, wait one day. Get it back, entirely ironed and hung up where appropriate. In the opinion of the laundry humans, t-shirts are hung.
It is difficult to get used to not paying after meals and taking drinks out of one theme area into another theme area. Here, we can go to a bar, then go back to our room to make a drink, then go back up to the bar to drink it. No one minds. I do not accept this as fact. It is a fact. I do not accept it.
I saw an incredibly large pair of underwear on an incredibly large woman who had just had a massage and came to join me in the sauna. In my opinion, there was no light on. She agreed, I sat by the door, so if I died, someone could at least catch a glance from the light in the hall. She had clearly just had her first massage and said how crazy it was that they wanted her to go to the steamroom and then into the sauna and how they didn’t warn her about having a bathing suit and now her underwear were going to get wet. She was also very modest and blown away by the sauna and “how does anyone lay down in here!” She then very shyly asked if she could take her top off. Her top was a towel, but whatever. She then tried to explain why and how she just needed to dry off and that I shouldn’t stay longer than 3 to 5 minutes, even though the hourglass was clearly longer than 5 minutes in her opinion. I did not say “I’M AN LA WEIRDO! PLEASE STOP TALKING!!!” but I wanted to do that. We met another passenger couple who were from the Kentucky side of Cincinnati, one half of which was a woman who made her living working at VA hospitals all over the country. I have heard tales of VA hospitals. They aren’t happy ones, and usually involve cutting off the wrong leg. I said nothing and she pitied my parents for me getting a theater degree when I went to such an expensive school. We talked to a few Navy vets who now go on cruises. One couple was great, one was a large gentlemen who let us witness him eating potato chips from the inside of his mouth. So. We’ll see how long we fraternize with the passengers in this manner.
It is slightly unfortunate that we are now friends with dancers and ballerinas. One ballerina is regularly lifted each show. This would be more incredible if she didn’t weigh less than a 5th grader. Also the other cast person who dates one of the dancers told us how much they weigh. No one stabbed him in the face. This is because we lacked implements. So. We can be Goldilocks with giant naked women in the spa (porridge too hot) and tiny gorgeous dancers in our social circle (too cold). Don’t they eat Goldilocks?
ALSO:
The people watching is pretty much off the charts. It’s all kinda wonderful in a very specific way that if you are not sleeping or eating properly can make you very upset. The couple we met in the hot tub were very nice and here is what I remember of their conversation. First of all, she made it clear right away that they were NOT married but that this is their second cruise together. She ran VA hospital with 1400 employees and she is most interested in what goes on behind the scenes on the cruise ship. She was slightly stressed about feeding and bathing everyone and taking care of everyone’s clothes and all of that. They DID see the comedian from the night before, but had to leave after a while and she only saw part of it because she fell asleep “because she is diabetic and any spike in blood sugar will make you fall asleep and I had some red wine so forget it.” Her son went to a school near my hometown and he really loves Indy right now and it’s a great place for young people (this is wildly not true) but can still be by his mom but you know, not too close so that it’s annoying. The male half then talked about how his daughter would love to work on a cruise and then the female half informed us that we are allowing our parents to live vicariously through us (do you hear that parents??) and that p.s. that other hot tub really only works if you have a stone on your stomach, otherwise you’ll flap around. The male half then gave a long speech about how wonderful his daughter is and they both seriously inquired about how one goes about getting a job on a cruise ship because she’d be so good at it.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Here is information!
Hi Guys—
This is where I can be charted.
Quick summary: I am all fine, the boat is all fine, the folks are fun, I am not in love with a random Polish man (sorry mom).
There are about a million things I could say about this boat. Basically, it is crazy. We are in a giant diesel fuelled office building on it’s side that goes up and down the coast. Last week was spent entirely rehearsing, so we didn’t really get to go out and explore. Oh, except for when we rented a boat, got take out chicken and beers (some of which were oddly 10 oz. bottles thingies, so we could pretend we were giants), went around with some of the dancers on the ship and: cruised the harbor of Acupulco. This was very amazing. You do not know you are not in America when on board the ship. This is because you can waste things and eat too much and complain and something will happen. You can also go to the doctor. You know you are not in America when on board a rented tourist boat when things like this happen: the workers get high with the passengers, you are permitted and encouraged to jump off the very top of the boat, with a wet towel to help with traction. You are not given a safety speech and when you count the life vests, there are 4 less than will cover the number of passengers. You are not given safety speeches of any kind. You try to figure out the toilet and pull what turns out to be a urinal cake. You try to change in the bathroom and the door flies open because it cannot be locked. Also, suddenly the seas went so rough that the bow of the boat kinda went even with the ocean and everyone clung for dear life and one guy felt wildly nauseous. But ultimately, you know you are not in America when you play a game with a friend called “I bet I can dance and not touch the walls” and the seas are so rough that this is very hard, and to make more of a challenge you say “I bet you can’t hop on one foot and not touch the walls” because the seas were very rough and then both of you are hopping on one foot and: the floor breaks. The two crew members seemed slightly concerned, but not too terribly. They lifted up the carpet to reveal several layers of totally warped plywood and a 4 inch opening between floorboards. An opening that lead to: whatever is under the floor of the boat. It was cracked and wavey and they made a stern face and said “no no no.” Then one of the singers completely crashed through it and cut up the top of her foot and a tendon on: the engine. There was no first aid kit. So she had to bleed terribly and wait to return to the cruise. O that is not America. Foreigners can’t sue the crap out of anyone.
So that was the big story from last week.
We are doing two scripted shows and two improv shows each week, in addition to two workshops. The scripted shows
I got mad in advance that the food was crappy frozen Sysco crap that every buffet in the world eats. It is surprising to realize, every single time, that this is not the case and that the food is actually really good. The slightly unappetizing thing is that we are repeatedly reminded about diarehha and vomiting. This is because the Norwalk virus is healthy and happy on cruise ships and there was an outbreak rather recently. So. The captian will make announcements discussing vomiting and diahrehha while many humans are waiting in line at a buffet to eat. Announcements like “if you see an accident.” Our last captian didn’t preplan his announcements so they’d go on for like 5 minutes with a lot of “uuuuuuh” and “wash your hands” and “uuuuuh” etc. We just got a new one.
Two interesting things: for me: We are very limited in our use and consumption of chocolate, the internet, and diet soda. In a stroke of business genius, you have to pay like $6.25 a day to be part of the “soda program” which gives you unlimited soda access. This is genius. Coffee, tea, milk, oj (in the a.m.) and iced tea are free. If you are wondering “am I addicted to soda in any fashion?” This is how you can find out. The unfortunate fact for me is that the answer is yes. Also, if you are thinking “am I addicted to chocolate in any fashion?” you will find out. Again, for me, the answer is yes. THERE IS BARELY ANY CHOCOLATE ON BOARD THE SHIP. If you are highly addicted (self=yes) and can easily and quickly discern quality of chocolate, this is where you will be sent to suffer, in an “I am an American” kinda way. I have bought quite a bit of chocolate. I have given chocolate as a present to my room steward who is: like my servant, in that he comes and makes my bed and cleans the room (crazy) and empties the trash (crazy). I can only assume that he is obviously dying for chocolate like: self. He is. Even though he is Jamaican. This is because “we are the world,” just like the song, which they sing at the end of every cruise—every employee gets on stage and then they shoot off confetti.
The ads for cruises show very young hotties enjoying themselves and living freely and independently. This is totally accurate of the clientele on the ship, if by hottie you mean “many old people.” There is kinda some self-selecting that goes on a little bit. There is a smoker section on the top deck where you get some of the partiers (people in mullets, older ladies with facelifts, Eastern Europeans, Germans). It is definitely AMERICA ON DISPLAY a little bit. If you are Gary Larson, I know where you come to find models for your drawings.
If you are a funny improv guy, I know where you should come to date incredibly hot young dancers. They all work on this ship and are soon going to change to an entirely new cast. They serve to encourage quirky untanned comedy women to hit the gym which is sort of interesting because when you run on a treadmill and you are on rough seas, well, it is slightly funny. I’m sure there has been a day where everyone wipes out at once.
Also, re seasickness which is fascinating to some of you who are my female parent: no I have not had it. I was very tired the first day and had some Dramamine, and now when I am on land, it feels very crazy and like solid land is moving. I am very used to constantly moving and readjusting and swaying. Even during improv scenes and general walking.
So, it is off to a good start, even though our first improv shows were, I would say “very bad” insofar as they were boring and dull and we weren’t in our light and during the Q&A session, a passenger asked “what do you do when people leave, like all those people who left during your show?” The two LA people got slightly defensive and name dropped (me and another gentleman) and pontificated and said how wonderful improv is because it teaches you to fail etc. etc. etc. and I said the deadly “well, after a while, your hit ratio just goes up and you get experience and you’re good”—and that night our hubris was mitigated, hereh, and we did a 21 minute version of a game that should take 7. Hereh. So. But we’ll tighten and get better, apparently that is all standard for the ships.
Also, a funny story for those of you who know me: one blackout I am doing (and a blackout is a very short scene) has me being a blowup doll, complete with big round mouth, etc. I say nothing during the scene, and at the end, lose air. Our Karla shows were called “too smart for your own good” sometimes and the one thing that really gets me angry and freaking out is treating ladies like sex widget objects, particularly in comedy. Which is what I am playing. And you know what? The audience loves it. I heard this a lot “oh you were that blow up doll. Oh that was just hilarious.” Or “hey, it’s the blow up doll.” Or during the Q&A session “how do you manage to be so hilarious as the blow up doll.” I said I was taught to sit still by my mother, which they enjoyed, and that playing the blow up doll was actually very difficult because I studied feminism, which they did not enjoy. So. There’s that. Seriously, everyone loves the blowup doll. Hilarious.
This is where I can be charted.
Quick summary: I am all fine, the boat is all fine, the folks are fun, I am not in love with a random Polish man (sorry mom).
There are about a million things I could say about this boat. Basically, it is crazy. We are in a giant diesel fuelled office building on it’s side that goes up and down the coast. Last week was spent entirely rehearsing, so we didn’t really get to go out and explore. Oh, except for when we rented a boat, got take out chicken and beers (some of which were oddly 10 oz. bottles thingies, so we could pretend we were giants), went around with some of the dancers on the ship and: cruised the harbor of Acupulco. This was very amazing. You do not know you are not in America when on board the ship. This is because you can waste things and eat too much and complain and something will happen. You can also go to the doctor. You know you are not in America when on board a rented tourist boat when things like this happen: the workers get high with the passengers, you are permitted and encouraged to jump off the very top of the boat, with a wet towel to help with traction. You are not given a safety speech and when you count the life vests, there are 4 less than will cover the number of passengers. You are not given safety speeches of any kind. You try to figure out the toilet and pull what turns out to be a urinal cake. You try to change in the bathroom and the door flies open because it cannot be locked. Also, suddenly the seas went so rough that the bow of the boat kinda went even with the ocean and everyone clung for dear life and one guy felt wildly nauseous. But ultimately, you know you are not in America when you play a game with a friend called “I bet I can dance and not touch the walls” and the seas are so rough that this is very hard, and to make more of a challenge you say “I bet you can’t hop on one foot and not touch the walls” because the seas were very rough and then both of you are hopping on one foot and: the floor breaks. The two crew members seemed slightly concerned, but not too terribly. They lifted up the carpet to reveal several layers of totally warped plywood and a 4 inch opening between floorboards. An opening that lead to: whatever is under the floor of the boat. It was cracked and wavey and they made a stern face and said “no no no.” Then one of the singers completely crashed through it and cut up the top of her foot and a tendon on: the engine. There was no first aid kit. So she had to bleed terribly and wait to return to the cruise. O that is not America. Foreigners can’t sue the crap out of anyone.
So that was the big story from last week.
We are doing two scripted shows and two improv shows each week, in addition to two workshops. The scripted shows
I got mad in advance that the food was crappy frozen Sysco crap that every buffet in the world eats. It is surprising to realize, every single time, that this is not the case and that the food is actually really good. The slightly unappetizing thing is that we are repeatedly reminded about diarehha and vomiting. This is because the Norwalk virus is healthy and happy on cruise ships and there was an outbreak rather recently. So. The captian will make announcements discussing vomiting and diahrehha while many humans are waiting in line at a buffet to eat. Announcements like “if you see an accident.” Our last captian didn’t preplan his announcements so they’d go on for like 5 minutes with a lot of “uuuuuuh” and “wash your hands” and “uuuuuh” etc. We just got a new one.
Two interesting things: for me: We are very limited in our use and consumption of chocolate, the internet, and diet soda. In a stroke of business genius, you have to pay like $6.25 a day to be part of the “soda program” which gives you unlimited soda access. This is genius. Coffee, tea, milk, oj (in the a.m.) and iced tea are free. If you are wondering “am I addicted to soda in any fashion?” This is how you can find out. The unfortunate fact for me is that the answer is yes. Also, if you are thinking “am I addicted to chocolate in any fashion?” you will find out. Again, for me, the answer is yes. THERE IS BARELY ANY CHOCOLATE ON BOARD THE SHIP. If you are highly addicted (self=yes) and can easily and quickly discern quality of chocolate, this is where you will be sent to suffer, in an “I am an American” kinda way. I have bought quite a bit of chocolate. I have given chocolate as a present to my room steward who is: like my servant, in that he comes and makes my bed and cleans the room (crazy) and empties the trash (crazy). I can only assume that he is obviously dying for chocolate like: self. He is. Even though he is Jamaican. This is because “we are the world,” just like the song, which they sing at the end of every cruise—every employee gets on stage and then they shoot off confetti.
The ads for cruises show very young hotties enjoying themselves and living freely and independently. This is totally accurate of the clientele on the ship, if by hottie you mean “many old people.” There is kinda some self-selecting that goes on a little bit. There is a smoker section on the top deck where you get some of the partiers (people in mullets, older ladies with facelifts, Eastern Europeans, Germans). It is definitely AMERICA ON DISPLAY a little bit. If you are Gary Larson, I know where you come to find models for your drawings.
If you are a funny improv guy, I know where you should come to date incredibly hot young dancers. They all work on this ship and are soon going to change to an entirely new cast. They serve to encourage quirky untanned comedy women to hit the gym which is sort of interesting because when you run on a treadmill and you are on rough seas, well, it is slightly funny. I’m sure there has been a day where everyone wipes out at once.
Also, re seasickness which is fascinating to some of you who are my female parent: no I have not had it. I was very tired the first day and had some Dramamine, and now when I am on land, it feels very crazy and like solid land is moving. I am very used to constantly moving and readjusting and swaying. Even during improv scenes and general walking.
So, it is off to a good start, even though our first improv shows were, I would say “very bad” insofar as they were boring and dull and we weren’t in our light and during the Q&A session, a passenger asked “what do you do when people leave, like all those people who left during your show?” The two LA people got slightly defensive and name dropped (me and another gentleman) and pontificated and said how wonderful improv is because it teaches you to fail etc. etc. etc. and I said the deadly “well, after a while, your hit ratio just goes up and you get experience and you’re good”—and that night our hubris was mitigated, hereh, and we did a 21 minute version of a game that should take 7. Hereh. So. But we’ll tighten and get better, apparently that is all standard for the ships.
Also, a funny story for those of you who know me: one blackout I am doing (and a blackout is a very short scene) has me being a blowup doll, complete with big round mouth, etc. I say nothing during the scene, and at the end, lose air. Our Karla shows were called “too smart for your own good” sometimes and the one thing that really gets me angry and freaking out is treating ladies like sex widget objects, particularly in comedy. Which is what I am playing. And you know what? The audience loves it. I heard this a lot “oh you were that blow up doll. Oh that was just hilarious.” Or “hey, it’s the blow up doll.” Or during the Q&A session “how do you manage to be so hilarious as the blow up doll.” I said I was taught to sit still by my mother, which they enjoyed, and that playing the blow up doll was actually very difficult because I studied feminism, which they did not enjoy. So. There’s that. Seriously, everyone loves the blowup doll. Hilarious.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)