outer-jessie's Diaryland Diary

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that's a wrap

A rundown. It's the least I can do. This entry, I warn you now, may grow to unholy proportions.

Hm, ok. Cruise first. For the most part, and in a general sense, it was a good time. I doubt I'll ever feel the need to cruise again, due to the overwhelming cheesiness of the experience, but this was a good vacation. Allow me to expand and expound.

Rob and I got to the airport ridiculously early on Saturday morning, after spending Friday in a very low energy state due to the very early hour we had to arise, namely about three thirty. An hour later we were all checked through the 'port, all alone, with all of two hours to kill. The rest of the crew, Rob's brother, sister and brother-in-law (heretofore known by their names, Tim, Allison and Mark, respectively) showed up close to six. We had a layover in Pittsburgh at about eight, a fine time for frozen cocktails and, if you're me, which I am, a screwdriver. All well and good, unless you happen to be Rob, and throw up an hour later a few thousand miles over the East Coast.

Beyond that, transportation was uneventful. We got to Tampa in six pieces, the same number we started with, and fetched our rental Kia of the pissiniscent odor at long last.

Woo. In more ways than one.

Oh yeah, I forgot somebody, Rob's cousin Dennis. He is an essential part of this story, or rather, the real life adventure behind the story, because he is the one who set up the entire first day of the trip: car, hotel, tickets, late-night fun. Ok. Let's continue.

We had tickets to a Red Sox game that night, which ended up being a great game (second game against the Devil Rays, for those of you who follow such things) and a lot of fun for all involved. Tim was on the verge of alcohol poisoning, I'm pretty sure. Oh well, I guess he's over it now, making that detail about as notable as salt.

Why salt, I don't know.

The night was spent at Ybor City, getting drunk again, or still, depending on...nothing really; the clear choice is "still". Ybor City is -- hm, how to describe? It's a part of Tampa, set up as a strip of dance clubs, restaurants, bars, and the occasional store. It's a party place. As I was inappropriately dressed for the occasion, and not much into making a fool of myself, I had absorbed all the fun it had to offer a little before one. So I left. And I worked myself into a tizzy imagining (groundlessly, of course) all the things Rob could be doing out alone with alcohol, drunken chicks, and his younger bachelor brother and cousin. (note to readers: this is foreshadowing)

From this point on, everything will be a jumble, because after we board the boat, there's little to distinguish one day from the next. Why am I telling you this...oh yeah, this is a diary, not a novel.

I was pissed at Rob for the first few hours, because he was acting like a little kid and wouldn't take responsibility for himself. I refused to have a good time until he apologized. This wouldn't stick in my mind so firmly if I hadn't written it down shortly after the fact, in a little commentary I was writing for the first few days. Sadly, I failed to continue with it, so the sharp details are lost after about Tuesday...like you care. Oh right. Diary! Diary. This is a diary.

We meet up with Rob's mom, grandparents, aunt, and two young cousins a little after we six were boarded. Everybody is very nice, comical, and fun. I didn't have a problem with anyone, save Rob, the entire time. Unless you want to count Tim and Dennis, who are typical drunken horny bachelors and saints preserve us if that kind of person doesn't grate on my nerves in just that perfect way. Anyway. Ok, so yeah I did have a problem with that, several if you want to know, but the thing to remember is that they are good guys in real life. But god. Of all things I'd rather avoid seeing, my brother-in-law on the prowl is the very one.

Did I say I had a problem? Multiple problems. This was the root of the thing that boiled over between Rob and me by the end of the week. This, and the gritty PMS the likes of which have never been seen in this girl.

Where was I? The first few days of the cruise were spent familiarizing ourselves with the boat, eating copious amounts of food, much like we did all week (I put on eight pounds, I'm sorry to say), and wandering around aimlessly. There's a lot of down time on a cruise. I enjoy down time while on vacation, but there ends up being this delightful^ feeling of guilt when you partake in it here, due to the smorgasbord of activities going on that you might otherwise be doing. There are constant reminders of everything that's going on. For me, this induces a mild anxiety, like I'm missing out, even though that which I'm missing is nothing I'd really want to do.

Wednesday was Grand Cayman and snorkeling. I was amazed that Rob did some snorkeling, and really enjoyed it (although he didn't go again). Even more amazing was the next day in Cozumel, when we went horseback riding on a ranch doing some Mayan ruins sight-seeing. Rob on a horse! Never thought I'd see the day.

He reverted later in the day to Scaredy Rob when we went to the beach in Cozumel, refusing to do any swimming or look at the cool stuff with my goggles. I don't know why! There was some weird stuff in there. And I got a fresh coconut! It was my one desire for this trip. That, and a Mexican blanket. The coconut was so weird. We drank the milk out and then carved out the flesh to eat. I don't understand how a fresh coconut can become the hairy dry coconuts we get in the store. Where does the hair come from?

I did a fair amount of shopping in Mexico too, obtaining the elusive Mexican blanket, bartering the guy down from an embarrassing price to a slightly less embarrassing price (I'm not telling); I also bought an anklet I thought was a bracelet, a hammock I thought was a hanging chair, three Mexican marionettes that I later saw at half the price, but not the same quality, and...let's pretend that's it, because I can't remember what else. Rob and I ate at a "real" Mexican restaurant for dinner, at least I'm going to persist in believing it was a real Mexican restaurant.

I can't remember Thursday.

Friday was New Orleans, which was totally fabulous. Rob and I walked all over and through and up and down the French Quarter, for about six hours. We absorbed as much New Orleans as we possibly could. We went in voodoo shops, listened to jazz bands at outdoor restaurants (or maybe not; the band was suspiciously playing "New York, New York" when we got there), drank Louisiana Lager (Rob) and...oh dammit, what was that thing I had? Some thing...a Louisiana verson of the Long Island Iced Tea. Or was it? Oh no! It was a Louisiana Lemonade. Whew. We also ate alligator, muffaletta, a catfish poboy, beignets (Rob called them beige nets), and we brought home some pecan pralines which are -- dare I say it? -- to die for. Yeah, there's no way to end that on a non-preposition, so Spooky will have to suffer.

We hit a flea market sometime in the afternoon and picked up some souvenirs. We got voodoo dolls and t-shirts and so on; I wanted to buy some jewelry but nothing caught my eye. My eye was caught on Bourbon Street, however, by a strip club a little later. We got this vacation's signature drink, the whiskey sour, and watched girl after girl disrobe before us. There was one I wanted. Wanted and wanted. But she never came out after her show, so I could not ask her for a private dance. So bummed was I. Ridiculously bummed. PMS, you must remember.

We met up with my aunt later in the day after she got out of work. She took us out for dinner at the House of Blues, which was really great, and I came home with an aunt-recommended CD of jazz. I think the day in New Orleans was the best day of all. That place is great.

I don't remember Saturday or Sunday. I don't think. Rob and I did go to one show on the boat that was so ridiculous I'm not sorry we didn't see more. We went dancing at the disco on board one night, so I got some use out of my boots (ha! let's pretend that was worth allotting them a quarter of my luggage space) and the sorta skanky outfit I brought for the occasion. Tim and Dennis picked up multiple chicks, especially Tim, who has ravishing good looks going for him. Sadly, they had not the foresight to avoid girls from Massachusetts; already they've been called by the one really annoying girl from their hometown. Mwahahaha.

The food on board was great, I went to the gym twice (hahaha), the pools were too small to swim in, the flying fish skipping across the water was one of the coolest things I've ever seen, the pictures they took on board were extraordinarily expensive (*cough*ripoff*cough*), the formal nights were fun but would have been better with dancing, there was far too much machismo and god I hate guys. I think that's a fair sum-uppance. Well, but I have kind of skimmed over the thing that happened with Rob that made me think we were breaking up that last weekend...suffice it to say, I thought he was not the person I knew. He seemed like someone else, in the company of his family and especially the rampant hormones directing the dicks of his brother and cousin. *sigh* But after a few days of panicking, crying, wondering how I could dissociate him from my life, if it came to that...we talked it over on Monday night. It was hard. It was also not as bad as I thought. Or at least, I choose not to think about it the same way anymore. Everything's fine now. But I'm glad the vacation is over.

In that respect, at least. In the respect that I won't have to deal with that aspect of it anytime soon. But I do miss the people. I miss the kids, I miss (gag) the guys, I miss Allison, I miss being around people. I can deceive myself occasionally into thinking that my day to day life is not so lonely, but the stark contrast is evident when I get home.

Monday I was back at work. I wrote that miserable chunk of naught. Monday night came and went, and Tuesday I was reshaped into a monkey. The operation wasn't bad, although getting the IV was scary. I stayed home all week, aching and whining and being cared for by my lovely boy, who's been very gentle. We've had to introduce some extra knobs and buttons into our sex life, thanks to the antibiotics I've been on, which makes us a little awkward, but it's been fun anyway. Just wish my ph would normalize, for the love of Job.

Saturday, the Mount Holyoke faction of Bio2 '00 convened at my place. It was so nice. We had pizza and got to go to the Museum of Fine Arts for free! Because, um, we got there half an hour before it closed. But it was still amazing, and when we were chased out we had just enough time to hightail it to the other end of town to see the Imax movie of Kilimanjaro. Rating: not my favorite, but still managed to make me want to climb the mountain for my honeymoon. Chances of getting Rob to do that: slim to none.

After the movie I was pleasantly surprised to find that they serve catfish at the Mexican restaurant I chose, and cheaply at that. This may be hard to believe, especially considering the sentiments expressed above, but I don't like Mexican food much. Sorry. Besides, I couldn't eat the nachos because my cheeks were inflamed. Still are too. At least I look more like Simon now and less like Theodore. Don't worry, I have pictures. Thank you, Rob's sense of the absurd.

Yesterday was my cousin Meggy's first communion, a family event involving stuffed crabs and chicken wings, both of which I could eat. That was fun, even though Rob was antisocial, and he PROMISED he'd try to work on it. Grrr. I'm glad he was there for a while, at least. And I'm glad there are family members who still remember how overwhelming it was to first become a [insert name of Jessie's family here]. Whoo, that was close, I almost wrote it right down. It wouldn't be that hard to determine my secret identity, but let's leave something to the imagination, shall we?

The end of this entry is nigh. I'm back now, and starving, I've just realized. Paranoid about suddenly erasing this entry, and displeased about getting back to my "real" life. I've caught up slightly on my buddy list; I went back through all the latest entries for some of you, and just the newest entry for most of you. That is all I can bear to do. The load of backed-up entries made me overly weary.

There, I think I got it all out. Maybe later I'll come back and report on the incredibly two-toned and insightful dream I had of my last girl, and the weird dream of a restaurant and an electrocution in ancient Jerusalem. Makes sense, no? Probably a good thing I'm not going to bed with Percocets anymore.

11:01 a.m. - 2002-05-20

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