I think F might have fallen for a southern family of three daughters. As I think will be a pattern in the future, I picked out a wonderful looking brunette in dark heavy rimmed glasses with a talent for foos ball. (table soccer) She looks smart and loyal, and greets him in the hall with just the right amount of enthusiasm.She is no doormat..but a solid friend. I asked about her...he thought I was talking about the southern blonds. "Mommy, she has two sisters! I can't invite just only her to play paddle tennis. !"
Sisters? what sisters? What is her name anyway?
Cannon.
Cannon? that doesn't sound very New York, She looks New York.
Her sisters names are Gray, and I can't remember.
Now I am clear on the subject...
"Musket" I offer? I kid you not...they are from the South and their names include Cannon, Gray (think civil war uniforms) and son is Walker. The third daughter is either Musket or Mint Julep.
They are damn cute. the youngest one..we'll call her little musket- has super short hair but wears a big wide head band every day. Beyond adorable. So is the mother. She greets me like an old friend. She says y'all and you want to drink with her. But as a future wife...thick glasses looks more reliable. thats all I`m gonna say.
Tonight when I took pictures with the boys I got more gossip on them and their surreal lives. Apparently they have a QM2 soccer team lead by my Turkish nemesis, whose name is Osman. They play all over the world...other ships' teams. It is rumored the Princess cruise team sucks (of course) and they are off the boat by 2, and home by 5. Osman though is so bossy that he is in charge of who gets on the team and has been known to kick people off mid game. Why does this not surprise me?
Oliver (head waiter, new best friend to me and chief flambéé-er) and I were in giggles over this. Why, I wanted to know is HE in charge of soccer too!?!? His name is now of course Bossman.
Thomas is back to red wine only. sigh. Party is over. I had one, a little tiny one on my own. Took a picture, but the magic was gone. No one is saying the obvious: tomorrow is the last day.
I was reading the little GET TO KNOW ME! sheets in the kids zone. My name is-----, I love_____, I hate_____ There was a lot of loving soccer..lots of hating mushrooms. On one I read: I love soccer, sailing, blah....I hate: ? No answer....Just a question mark. Then I read: I live in San Francisco Ca, Name: Frederick. Pretty much says it all.
At the planetarium every day they show us movies that are more or less different angles on the same theme: Every thing we have ever known and loved exists on this small, blue planet rotating around an unremarkable star. It is the same message outside the planetarium as well: We live in a lovely place. And it happens to be mostly blue. So here is how I see it: you have got to check out the blue, people. Got to see the blue.
Last night in my euphoria of thinking that we would have waves on the 10th deck, went to check on the elderly on the main dance floor...second deck. I thought there would at least be a murmur of panic. Since i have acted so badly...cutting them off soft ice cream and racing ahead of them in line, i thought I would provide some comfort: hug them, buy them vodka shots. Someone must have told them that they and their frail little bones could be tossed on the floor on this dark and stormy night. These are people for whom a broken hip means the end; but in the face of this, they are dancing. Why do they come? What are they doing out here? I used to think it had something to do with feeling safe -preplanned activities and all. But being out here is not logical. We cannot swim. not really. Matt Biondi could not get to England without a boat.
Then it occurred to me I just finished a book about the Nantucket whalers on whom the book Moby Dick was based. Some of them were known to remain at sea for 15 out of 20 years of their lives. Around cape horn and to Hawaii and back....for huge profit yes. But it is so extreme, you got to believe they just plain liked it....maybe out here it just feels good. Out here in the deep blue.
Below my peeps. Oliver and Osman and me and Gyorgiy (Hungarian waiter) who told me he wishes he could provide sunshine and birds to follow the ship for me.
Oh no. Just saw my first ship. Land cannot be far.
Feel free to comment on my Nemesis. Then tell me you could argue with this man about the seating.
No comments:
Post a Comment