Alright, everything that’s happened since last I wrote seems like a lot. The flight was uneventful, except for the fact I had to bail on a Sudoku; I choose to believe it was due to lack of sleep, but it still haunts me. And there was a guy at the Chicago airport food court who kept calling me “Boss Man”, which has stuck with me in a weird way.
Then on the boat. Which is huge. And confusing. But I’m figuring it out, slowly but surely. Complicating matters is my inability to keep time. My brand new and purchased specifically for the trip wristwatch has stopped working entirely, and my alarm clock for some reason is running ridiculously fast. Consequently, I’ve had my cellphone on the entire time. My only hope is that you don’t get charged for the roaming, but only for the using. Otherwise, I should more or less break even for this whole cruise.
Most of the first few days on board were somewhat harrowing, as we scrambled to get show-ready. Not too harrowing, mind you: I had faith in my producer, my director, my cast, and myself, but I still had some nerves, I’ll admit.
And, as usually turns out to be the case, the shows went fine. (Turns out the two shows a week tend to be an early and a late show, so it’s one night a week. Show biz!) The laughs were solid, I managed not to fall over during the office-chair ballet, and the other performers on board who saw it all had nice things to say, so a sigh of relief is heaved. (Also, a sad little quirk I’ve picked up over the years is that I tend to be more at ease with other performers once I’ve actually performed with them, so that’s nice.) I was also relieved that our Sounds Like A Songs (or Sing It, as Yankees apparently call it) went over well; I seem to be the weakest singer among those who are in it, but I choose to believe it’s endearing, and hey, it is, so there!
And then the next day, the cast hung out on the British Virgin Islands. The name is misleading, or possibly I just don’t know what a British virgin would look like…I’d assume a younger Mary Poppins…nevertheless, fun was had.
We did our hanging out at Nanny Cay beach. I personally spent the bulk of the time floating in the lovely water, and getting a mild sunburn through my suntan lotion. Not that I’m expecting sympathy, just putting it out there. It also made me a little homesick, as playing in the water has historically been a camping or cottage thing for me, and thus early childhood and more recent memories of fun with family came to me. Not crippling, but worth noting. (Read it as “sweet.” In fact, say “Awww!” and call your grandmother, or closest living equivalent…)
Along those lines, yesterday being December 1st, I was able to X a day off a Dunkin’ Donuts calendar I got in Chicago with the purchase of an English muffin with scrambled egg. Not that I’m actually counting the days, but it seems like the thing (or at least a thing) to do. If nothing else, the experience of Xing out a day made me empathize with Conrad Black, and I never would have imagined that happening!
Coming up next: Our first improv shows and the departure of our director, Matt Craig. Comedy and tragedy, folks, comedy and tragedy. (Our producer, Nate DuFort, will also be leaving us, and that’s also tragic. Well, as opposed to comic. It’s only in parentheses because he leaves later, so I should be able to get in another post before that happens.)
p.s. If there are things you want me to cover that I’m not, ask! This blog is called “Scattered Flurries” for a reason, people!
p.p.s. Miss me yet?
p.p.p.s ‘Cause I miss you.
You’re on a boat?
I have printed and snailmailed this Magellanic epic-so-far to previous century inhabitants Grandma and Cousin Joanie.