Wait, butt...

We've discovered a new pastime on the ship: Judging Butts.

It's quite simple: Nic, Jamie and I sit in a high traffic area, and judge the butts of the people that walk by on a scale of 1 to 12. Why 12, you may be wondering? Well, one butt in particular deserved it. Really, you should've seen it. Yowza.

Admit it, you do it too. Maybe not as formally, but when someone walks away from you, you check out their butt. Next time you do it, assign a number to it. It's loads of fun.

False Advertising

When I was in NOLA this past weekend, I passed a sign that said:

AMBLING PROBLEM? CALL: 800-555-5555*

Upon further investigation, it actually said "Gambling Problem." The "G" was obscured by some shrubbery. I love the thought of having an ambling problem. Until there's a fire.


*fake number

Standards

I'm going through major dog withdrawal. I need to find a pet store soon and pet a pooch, or I don't know what I'll do. I miss my parents' dog, Max. He's a big dumb lovable yellow lab who wants nothing more that to play and snuggle. I sure could use some of that right now. In the meantime, I may adopt this adorable little monkey:



We really bonded.

What did people do on sea voyages before laptops and portable DVD players? Were people actually reading? The library on the ship is so desolate... which makes it the best place to hide. I just finished David Sedaris's "When You Are Engulfed in Flames," and picked up "Henry and June" by Anais Nin and "The Hours" by Michael Cunningham. Both of these books have been adapted to movies, so they must be good, right? That's my barometer. I'm so inspired to read because I've seen everything the ship plays on its TV channels at least 10 times. You see, they choose a handful of movies and TV shows every few months, and then play the shit out of them. I've seen enough "Ghost Town," "Mad Money," "Grey's Anatomy," and "Miley Cyrus, Live in Concert" to last my next 2 lifetimes. May I please take this opportunity to point out, if I wasn't trapped in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico, I would never have seen any of them. But here I am, so I watch them while choking back the vomit.

Speaking of, all the elevators have their own unique smell. If I was blindfolded and led through all 9 elevators, I would be able to tell you which one I was in simply based on the scent. For example, the left elevator in the middle of the ship smells like fish. Did somebody hide one behind the button panel? It's seriously rank, and I don't understand why it hasn't been investigated and rectified. The middle elevator at the front of the ship smells like old lady perfume. Always. I think it's haunted. When I get in it, I say, "hey! Old Lady! Get out of here! Go to the light! The riches of heaven await you!" She's not interested.

Compliance

I've been asked by several sources to write something new so they don't have to see a half-naked woman hula hooping every time they check this blog. So, here's a new pic:



The room stewards make animals out of towels sometimes. I love coming back to my room when there's a surprise waiting for me. In case you can't tell, that's a monkey. He has packets of creamer for eyes. Brilliant.

Nuthouse

This past week, I encountered the craziest people on this ship. Apparently they're offering a package for nutjobs, because they're all here.

Take for instance, this person:



Your eyes do not deceive you: this is a grown woman hula hooping her crazy heart out on the pool deck. For hours. Please note the bathing suit and braids. She is really showing off, strutting her stuff all around the pool, making sure everybody sees her. I really can't tell if she's insane or just on vacation.

I found a new special spot for me to hide out and chill. I've been really desperate for some new things to look at, and I found it on deck 7, the Promenade. I sit in a comfy padded deck chair with my Guatemalan coffee and read chicklit between sending emails on my blackberry. I'm so fortunate because I can send and receive emails at no extra cost. Thank God! I’d freak out if I couldn’t send a random thought to someone and get an immediate response. It would be so alienating! Emailing has become my new texting.

I've learned a valuable lesson about alone time. In order to dissuade anyone from intruding it's important to remove any surrounding chairs. I failed to do that yesterday, and I'll never make that mistake again. So, I'm sitting there, my nose buried in a book, and I hear "You look lonely. Mind if I join you?" Gross. So I look up at the dude that has wandered into my zone and said, very sweetly, "I'm not lonely, but you're welcome to sit there." He immediately goes, "Fine, never mind, jeez, whatever," all petulantly as if I had responded with, "no Fuckface. Why don’t you take your stupid line and shove it up your ass?" Thankfully, as he was saying it, he was practically running away so I didn't have to pretend to be all, "hey, no, don't be like that." Really, guy? I wonder what makes a person act like that. But I love ‘em when they’re walking away, so I chased after him and we made out fiercely.

That last part is not true.

Look, I know how I sound. But it can be really exhausting to be a woman; you’re constantly thwarting weird, unwanted advances. Or maybe I just attract the weird ones. That is a real possibility. I guess it would be worse if no one were interested.

The best crazy people are the old ones. Nic and I had a conversation in the ship’s diner with an older Alabaman couple. It started innocently enough with them describing all the cruises they’ve been on and somehow devolved into them saying some downright racist things about Katrina and New Orleans as Nic and I sat slack jawed. What do they care? They’re old. My favorite old person? The guy that belted out “Jesus Christ, this fucking ship!” in response to the fact that the hallway he wanted to walk down was roped off for maintenance.

But really, he had a point.

Retrospective

I'd like to take this opportunity to share with you some choice pictures from my blackberry. Some of them are a bit grainy. What do you expect? It's a phone! And my calendar. And access to the internet. Plus it stores all my contacts, organizes tasks, is my main alarm clock, and a myriad of other things. Dammit, blackberry! You're magical. Why don't you take better pictures?

These were all taken in 2008. Since it's February of 2009, it seems like a good time to close the book on last year.



This pic was taken in Chicago from the car I was sitting in waiting for the light to change. Please note the creepy guy staring at the poor woman as she tries to ignore him. Ah, the city. We're all one step away from being attacked.




This pic was taken in Bar Harbor, Maine. Natalie and I had the night off together, so we had cocktails at the water's edge. I love champagne, strawberries, and the fact that I'm lucky enough to afford this luxury. As I travel the world, it becomes more apparent how fortunate we are. I don't want to take any happiness for granted.




Relaxing on the grass in the square in Bar Harbor




I'm pretty sure I took this in Maine. I just love foggy days. They're so romantic. Plus I don't feel guilty if I don't really get outside. Sometimes I feel forced to enjoy the day as hard as possible when it's sunny. Overcast days give me a break.



AVP on Hermosa Beach, CA in June. I'll take this sunny day: lots of hot guys in swimsuits knocking a ball around.




Took this in LA. Can you see the guy balancing his kid on his head? It was nuts!



This note was slipped under my friend's apartment door. Feel free to call this douchebag's number and give him a hard time.




Can you tell that's my face in that cutout? It's not Michelle Monaghan's. I know, we are very similar. I don't know what's worse: starring in a stupid movie or marrying an idiot. Here's hoping I avoid both in real life.




From the set of Public Enemies, shot in Chicago in front of The Biograph theater in my 'hood. Alas, Christian Bale wasn't there. They were choreographing the scene in which Dillinger is shot. It was below freezing in May. Michael Mann was screaming at everyone. OK, that last part isn't true. Rumor has it he was a real piece of work, but I don't want to get slapped with a defamation suit.




Boynton Canyon in Sedona, AZ. It has a reputation as a site of a New Age "vortex" - a sort of energy field emanating from inner earth. Not sure if I subscribe to this bit of modern mysticism, but I did realize there that I spend too much time hating people I don't know. That epiphany has served me pretty well since. Beyond that, it's an amazing hike and a nice place to sit and think.




My favorite view from the NCL Spirit. Santo Tomas de Castilla, Guatemala.




After an incredible storm in Chicago. The city was torn apart! This is just one image from my street. Poor guy. Hope he had insurance.




Navy Pier. Taken from Chicago Shakespeare Theater in November '08. I miss you and hate you and love you, Chicago!

Crazy

You know that weird feeling when it's like you're outside your body looking in? It doesn't happen too often, but it's so jarring when it does. It's in that moment when you become totally self-aware. I wonder why that happens. Then the questions come flooding in. Who am I? What am I doing here? Why are we alive? It's exhausting.

I'm not suggesting that I'm super deep. It just recently happened and I wasn't too impressed with my answers.