Day 2

Woke to sunny warm weather here in the middle of nowhere...never seen it like this. The pools are very in with everyone this year, not just the kiddies.
Ok where did we leave off? oh dinner. Our handsome nemesis was confused when we came to dinner....slow, uncomprehending smile.....like who are these people? We introduced ourselves, reminded him he rather hated us last year and it all came flooding back. Now he hovered, flirted, chatted, kept repeating (as does every single person in the restaurant) if there is ANY thing we can do, let us know..But not before telling Thomas to put on a jacket. sigh.
This grill is actually bigger than the last one. The Queens level is the most popular..unlike a plane where each successive class gets smaller..here there is huge Brittania, then small middle, then bigger than that for Queens..though no where near Brittania. The ass kissing is almost tiresome. I liked the Turk better when he was mean. Although to be fair, he told us his wife (the one that used to work on board in the bar from where I am writing to you) is pregnant...in her last month, and he is getting off the ship after 2 months of this back and forth for the birth and a long summer break in Turkey.
So no wonder there is a spring in his step.
He also told us they have taken the menu up a notch and it is amazing..caviar is on the menu, so in honor of Kathy Harper, I ordered. Thomas (too damn funny) announces to me, he will order what he really wants without any feeling he should order something special (all food is included so they could give a crap) He comes up with a salad followed by some bean and cheese something that is so small, it looks like a joke. They have canyon ranch on board..full spa...and on the menu, a spa food selection..with calories fat etc. this was not one of those choices, and yet it was basically something big enough for a 3 year old girl. He was a bit sad, considering he loves nuts and berries, but he eats at least reasonable portions of them. So alas I had to share my pasta.
He has his good qualities though..we were looking over the side, me clinging to F like always, F prattling on and on about safety procedures he had memorized cheerfully, when Thomas turns to me and says: he falls over, I go in after him, you throw a life buoy, while SIMULTANEOUSLY looking at your watch. if you do not know the exact time, the captain will never be able to find us.
That is why I married him.
I have taken a cold hard look at the clientèle here and no matter how many pith helmets and blue blazers and posh accents one hears...under it all beats the heart of an American cruise. Take the eating for example. We don't go to our dining room for lunch..must see the crowds, and they have these open places to eat buffet style with stations of everything. I have pointed out before how un-athletic this crowd is ..some are in those little people scooters like on Seinfeld...or wheel chairs and there is an actual feeling of nervous energy at lunch time. As if this place would ever run out of fried rice..(it won't) but one is never sure. Of course I use my youth and dominance in the areas of, say, walking or arm wrestling, to make them sweat a little. Tea time was the worst...all those little sandwiches so little time. And then the desserts. I simultaneously explained to Frederick that he needed to believe me: his opinions on raisins not withstanding, he had to eat a scone, while ace-ing out a poor English man from the last of the two bread (love that, half white, half wheat) turkey morsels,,kind of like that move in basketball, the one Mom uses at cocktail parties, where the back is to someone and the rear end is kind of pushing them back. It really is kind of bitchy..I mean I could go to the Queens grill and have handsomest eastern types flutter over me..but a girl needs a little diversity, a little strife in the middle of this tranquility. It's like the first dream team in Olympic basketball..couldn't just win gracefully..had to go to the little leagues, win, and win ugly.

My favorites are the people who are on the Zone diet...but with a Cruise Twist. Here is the Twist: mashed potatoes and fried rice and chocolate coconut cake. But it is in two, separate, kosher-like doses. First the dramatically displayed Ribs plus a piece of lettuce or bowl of berries. One must march to one's seat purposefully to the admiration of the crowd as it whispers things like: I knew someone that did that once... what control he has...you know..you can really see the difference in the way he looks in those sweat pants.....
then later a plate of all potatoes and bread to the other side of the restaurant where people stare at what can only be a actual vegetarian in the mist. It's beautiful.

The lightening was amazing yesterday....when it hits the water it actually sizzles.

tonight: black and white ball.....Thomas is discussing going to bed early in the manner of someone taking over a small but hostile island country...plan and re plan and discuss contingency plans....maybe if I can get him to order something reasonable he will rally. I must get to the action!

He is playing paddle tennis with the young master now..then we shall hot tub in the approaching fog and discuss tactics for tomorrows lunch.


Around me people are drinking and someone is complaining about the music, but all in all a happy crowd.

Lecture today was on pirates and I brought Frederick..he liked it, what he could understand..Sir Francis Drake was the last bad ass Englishman...baddest ass pirate of them all apparently...brought in 2.5 million pound to his Queen. ! You could feel the pride among the assembled pith helmets.
Fun fact: in Cartaghena the worst insult you could ever call someone is El Drake. The Spanish reeeeellly did not like getting ripped off by this dude in funny pants. This speaker proffers a theory that pirates were the first terrorists because they were under armed and had to get by on a reputation for fearless, ruthless behavior.

Still have not found a use for my butler... what he does I don't exactly know. He seems to clean the room. But with another person. I am too afraid to ask him to iron, babysit, or fetch coffee....and that would be on my list of butler activities. Now I really won't ask because thomas found out he is a mechanical engineer from somewhere he cant get a job.

More later!
Someone write me emails! I don't get them very often..internet blah at sea blah...but I need feedback out here. Are all details being outlined?
xoxoxoxoxoxo