Great White Snark: My lover stands on golden sands and watches the ships that go sailing.

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

My lover stands on golden sands and watches the ships that go sailing.



Enough of that.

The cruise was amazing. It really was. I adore going on cruises for a lot of reasons, probably the first of which being that I love being out on the sea. And the open water. The ocean never ever ceases to amaze me. It awes and inspires, creates a hint of fear, but an overwhelming sense of tranquility. I adore the antiquity and the bigness of it. It gives me chills when I think about how the course we sailed is covering the same expanses of water that the pirate ships I so love to dream and write about sailed not so very long ago. As long as there has been water, people have been sailing, and I absolutely love that feeling of continuing (in a very modern and ridiculously lavish way) a tradition and taking a part in something that's, at least historically, bigger than myself.

Enough about all that. I'm such a sod.

I want to write about my cruising experience in three parts: the ship, the destinations, and the people I met. I wanted to do them in that order, but the ship bit is so overwhelming. And I have photographic evidence to help keep it fresh in my memory. Same with the destinations. With the people, however, I can literally feel details slipping from the metaphorical fingers of my memory. I despise not being able to remember stuff well, and I figure I better document what I DO recall before all hope is lost. So I hope you don't mind that this is completely context-less. But it IS, after all, my blog and if I want to disrupt the flow of my own discourse, I think I'm entitled to that. :)

So, I didn't really meet that many people. Bethany hoped I'd come back with Jude Law lookalike and his twin brother. Ngl, that wouldn't have been too shabby. But it didn't happen. I'm okay with that. I don't like flingy not-serious relationships anyway.

I'd just like to point out that Michael got the phone numbers of SIX girls. Ahem.

Anyway. So I didn't really meet that many people. But two in particular stuck out. I'd like to tell you about them.

The first one was part of a family who dined next to us every night in the restaraunt on-board. It was a fabulous dining room. The cuisine was EXQUISITE. It's said that Julia Child used to tear up and cry when she tasted something that was so delicious she couldn't help herself. I UNDERSTAND, JULIA. Some of the stuff I ate there was...SO incredible. I wanted to cry. Tears of joy, pouring forth unbidden at the utter delight and bliss at enjoying some of the most DELECTABLE food it has ever been my pleasure to ingest. I'll write more about it later. Just know it was DELISH.

Anyway, we sat next to this family from LA. They were so nice. And the head of the family was this INCREDIBLE character. He really is a character. I felt like at any minute he was going to vanish into thin air or a director was going to jump out and yell "CUT!" that's how wild this guy was. For the entirety of the cruise, we called him Martín, because that's why my Dad said he had introduced himself as. So Martín is this larger than life guy. He looks like Emeril Lagassi. And he talks just like him too. The entire dinner, he'd tell us incredible stories, gesticulating wildly the entire time. He works on the set of The Office and took great pride in showing off his Dunder Mifflin watch. Steve Carrell bought him a bike. This guy is LEGIT.

He also has a wild sense of humor. And a lot of the time he was being unintentionally hilarious. "Laughter is good for you, you know," he said, hands waving in the air. "I'm serious! It is science." You have NO idea how much I wanted to jump in and yell "THAT'S SCIENCE!" So he continues. "The liquid....whatever it goes from the brain to the heart"--cue hands mimicking the movement of mysterious brain fluid rushing from your brain to your heart--"and you live longer!" At this, we're ALL cracking up, his family included. And he's like, DEAD SERIOUS. "I'm serious!" he says, throwing his hands in the air. "Laughter makes you live longer."

The maitre'd, from Hungary, I believe, came by to inquire as to the quality of our meal and encourage us to try our luck at the ship's casino. "You never know if you don't try," he told us. "And besides. If you're not lucky in the casino, you are still a winner. You will be lucky in love." We all had a nice chuckle and then he disappeared, continuing to make his rounds about the dining room. After he'd left, Martín huffs. "Do you hear this guy, 'lucky in love?'" thrusting his hands after the maitre'd. "I'll tell you something. You aren't lucky in love if you lose at the casino. No money, no honey! You know what I mean?" Cue more riotous laughter. The man's Italian-esque accent, gesticulations and dead-pan delivery made him absolutely hysterical.

He's the kind of guy who decided that 12 pieces of silverware were entirely too much for one meal. So every night, much to our poor waiter's chagrin, he'd heap all 12 pieces into a pile on the side of the table and then just pick whatever looked like it'd best serve his purpose. He's also the kind of guy who says, "God bless me," after he sneezes without a hint of self-righteousness or silliness, and his wife nods solemnly and says, "Yes, yes," instead of "Bless you," because his invocation of God's blessings for himself are probably more likely to get answered than anyone else's. He is a total modern day bon vivant.

His name is also not Martín. It's "Varton." He's not Italian, it turns out. He's Armenian. Still. I WILL be writing him into something into the future. He's just far too colorful to be left on the dusty shelves in my brain attic.

Ourselves with Martín/Varton/Emeril, his wife Marilyn (after Marilyn Monroe. No joke), daughter Faith and her husband Vaja (also Armenian).


This is me with our darling waiter, Derrick. He was such a dear. He's from St. Louis, and when we started conversation, he opened right up and told us all about his family and his home (he hasn't been home in months) and his sister. He and his sister have matching tattoos on the insides of their wrists, the Chinese symbol for "Friend." That's just the kind of sweet guy he was. What was most hysterical though was he was SUCH a stickler for the proper table settings and formality. Needless to say, his reactions to Martín's silverware shenanigans were HYSTERICAL. He comes up, sees the heap of fine silver and his eyes were like SAUCERS. Then the hands flew up to his mouth, like he'd just witnessed the most scandalous thing ever to happen on the ship. "What--what?? What am I gonna do with you??" he squeaked out. Mad good times. Then we told him we were from Orlando and he about DIED because he is DYING to go to Halloween Horror Nights. He got SO animated and excited talking about how much he loves thrills and being scared, and how lame the haunted houses "back home" were. It was like watching Eddy Murphy. Such a sweet guy. I wish him the best and hope that he makes it home soon for a visit. And that he gets to go to Horror Nights.

More tomorrow, darlings. I'm tired.

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