Man, I haven't updated this thing in... well ages. So...er...here I am. Hi.
The last year with RCCL has been long but productive, I've managed to work my way into a promotion: meaning my own cabin (I'm too old for room mates) and a ten thousand dollar raise in addition to other little perks. I'm off to the Freedom of the Seas out of Port canaveral after a week of training in Las Vegas. As for stories, well, the last year seems like one great big story and it all blurs together so swimmingly it's hard to pick out a few to tell.
Let's see, the Holidays on a ship:
From what I'm told the holidays' were a good time for me on the LB, I say that because most of it we all spent in a drunken stupor. You couldn't go an hour without running into a wandering crew christmas/hanakah/tet/whatever crew party and ng force fed booze by the senior staff. Our days were spent not with the normal work but sitting around Studio B with the department drink beer/wine/eggnog/horse swill/*punch(more on that later) wrapping presents, blowing up balloons, building christmas trees, and trying to get dancers to take their tops off. S the only ones to oblige were the gay men.
Our tech department christmas party is even more of a blur. I have feint memories of a secret santa contest, where you had to guess who bought your present and if you guessed wrong you had to chug an entire solo cup of hard alcohol. (One "shot" per guess until you got it right. My liver decided to spend the holidays in Utah where they don't believe in alcohol. The kidneys were not pleased with this decision by liver and decided to evactuate the only way they knew how: chewing their way through the stomach and out my bellybutton.).
By the next morning I had discovered that I was covered in clever sharpie sayings that I had decided to let one of our ice skaters author. Whilest these hijinks were occuring my friends Oliver, Maryke, and myself were discovering *punch. *Punch is the leftover's from *everyone's* glasses, plus whatever vile sludge was left in the ice bowl mixed together with half a bottle of an undetermined liquor and another substance I can only refer to as "Pud" as I have no idea what it was, but that was the sound you made when you drank it. Obviously this was the most delicious thing we had ever tasted, and drank approximately a gallon of it. This of course made Shawn-the-ice-skater very angry as I was wiggling and giggling too much for him to complete his masterpiece of caligraphy entitled "I love dick" on my backside.
(As a side note, *Punch actually turned out to taste pretty good, somehow. We saved the bowl in our cabin and discovered it two days later; and what do you do when you find strange purple-ish liquid in your bathroom? Drink it of course!)
New years was alright, I ended up standing guard on the promenade for the orchestra until we fired off our balloon drop. At this point it was an "All rules are off" party for guests and crew alike. I tastefully had a glass or two of champagne, witnessed my supervisor get into an argument with the captain over whether it was New Years or Christmas, and went to bed.
"went to bed": English, verb, article and subject. Pronunciation: "full-of-shit" etymology; derived from the latin shitus facedis. Definition: To not remember wandering around the ship with one's suit jacket on backwards and inside out trying to kiss everything in site in a jovial manner. Yep, no desperation there. Authoritative but distracting whistle
So there were the holidays. I'll update again either tomorrow or at the end of next week when I'm on the Freedom with the following stories:
The infamous Gay Cruise: Or "Some Things You Can't Un-See"
My South African Friends Say the Damnedest Things
The Black Cruise: Or "Bitch You did NOT just say that!"
Hope all's well on your end,
Matty
Friday, August 6, 2010
Monday, May 11, 2009
So...so tired
Sorry I haven't left a lot of witty posts here, but it's been an exhausting few weeks. I honestly just don't have the energy to write about it. The very though of having to revisit the events of the last few weeks makes me want to throw myself overboard. I'll try tomorrow after I've slept.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
International stuff.
Lately I've been taking the time to learn a few languages while I have the opportunity and I'm pleased to report that I can now hold a decent polite conversation in Russian, Tagalog (which is Phillipino), Spanish, and I'm working on German and Jamaican English (which is crazy different than American). Hanging out with these people and watching international CNN all day has really openned my eyes to how sheltered I am (A lot of us suburbanites are) as to the goings on in the world. Did you know there was a major revolution in the Ukraine 3 years ago? I didn't. There are people here from Ethiopia that can name half of the House of Lords and tell you their personal politics, and sometimes their shirt size.
I think it's all terribly fascinating how globalized the community aboard is. Granted when you have people from 74 different nations all stuck on a boat it's bound to happen but it blows my mind that there are rarely incidents regarding racism, sexism, ismism, etc. It's really nice to see as opposed to good ole' Decatur where if you see a black person you turn the other way or in the suburbs where you see a Mexican and mourn the loss of your quiet afternoon. Part of what I think contributes to that is the fact that things here are incredibly un-PC. People aren't afraid to talk about national stereotypes, it's all on the table. We American's are loud mechanical people, no one understands a single damned thing the Jamaicans say, the Russians are always angry, the Aussies are always drunk, and noone cares that you said it.
The other day I was asking a housekeeper where to get the daily coupons to bring to the cruise director and he just turned and stated loudly "Oh, down there where all the blacks are standing" . I was mortified, one of ladies there heard it, turned to us, and just smiled and was like "right here honey, here you go." It blew me away. It might not sound like much, but it just seems like I've been so programmed that if you can *possibly* in ANY way avoid stating anything about a persons race you do it. I think that's a scary thing. It seems like in America we're so force-fed the idea that everyone's the same that we're rocketing right into Huxley's Brave New World.
Anyway, enough blathering to the internet that I'm still incredibly naive, I believe it's time for some Coffee. Later all.
I think it's all terribly fascinating how globalized the community aboard is. Granted when you have people from 74 different nations all stuck on a boat it's bound to happen but it blows my mind that there are rarely incidents regarding racism, sexism, ismism, etc. It's really nice to see as opposed to good ole' Decatur where if you see a black person you turn the other way or in the suburbs where you see a Mexican and mourn the loss of your quiet afternoon. Part of what I think contributes to that is the fact that things here are incredibly un-PC. People aren't afraid to talk about national stereotypes, it's all on the table. We American's are loud mechanical people, no one understands a single damned thing the Jamaicans say, the Russians are always angry, the Aussies are always drunk, and noone cares that you said it.
The other day I was asking a housekeeper where to get the daily coupons to bring to the cruise director and he just turned and stated loudly "Oh, down there where all the blacks are standing" . I was mortified, one of ladies there heard it, turned to us, and just smiled and was like "right here honey, here you go." It blew me away. It might not sound like much, but it just seems like I've been so programmed that if you can *possibly* in ANY way avoid stating anything about a persons race you do it. I think that's a scary thing. It seems like in America we're so force-fed the idea that everyone's the same that we're rocketing right into Huxley's Brave New World.
Anyway, enough blathering to the internet that I'm still incredibly naive, I believe it's time for some Coffee. Later all.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Swine Flu zombies?
I have a running bet with my boss that the R1N1(N1R1?) virus will turn us all into Zombies by christmas. More to come on that.
The last week has been utterly insane. Because of this virus, we've been in OPP red again (severe health risk) and we're not allowed to go to any ports in Mexico, which apparently includes Puerto Rico, St. Maarten, and Jamaica. Someone needs to teach these people geography. But what that means is serious lack of internet, serious lack of any form of shopping for supplies like, oh, say, Deodorant, a *lot* of bored guests which means a lot more work for the crew, and a complete bleaching of every possible surface in the ship.
On top of this we had one of our guys in Studio B sign off after finishing his contract. Normally this is not an issue (even though we were sad to see Eric go) however his replacement Ronald didn't have his medical completed. This meant he couldn't sign on to the ship, which resulted in us being *yet again* down a man. I put in 87+ hours last week.
Anyhow, on a lighter note things seem to be going well with a Canadian girl I met, so that gives me something to look forward too.
Anyhow, my break is rapidly approaching an end. Sorry for this one just to be a venting session but it's been a hard week. I'll try to post again this week when I feel less like a walking corpse.
The last week has been utterly insane. Because of this virus, we've been in OPP red again (severe health risk) and we're not allowed to go to any ports in Mexico, which apparently includes Puerto Rico, St. Maarten, and Jamaica. Someone needs to teach these people geography. But what that means is serious lack of internet, serious lack of any form of shopping for supplies like, oh, say, Deodorant, a *lot* of bored guests which means a lot more work for the crew, and a complete bleaching of every possible surface in the ship.
On top of this we had one of our guys in Studio B sign off after finishing his contract. Normally this is not an issue (even though we were sad to see Eric go) however his replacement Ronald didn't have his medical completed. This meant he couldn't sign on to the ship, which resulted in us being *yet again* down a man. I put in 87+ hours last week.
Anyhow, on a lighter note things seem to be going well with a Canadian girl I met, so that gives me something to look forward too.
Anyhow, my break is rapidly approaching an end. Sorry for this one just to be a venting session but it's been a hard week. I'll try to post again this week when I feel less like a walking corpse.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Birthday on the High Seas
Well, it was my birthday yesterday (woo) sand there are many stories to accompany the day, however at the moment the hotwings I ate for lunch are catching up to me, and we're about to lose internet here soon (We lose the internet approx. 10-12 hours a day). So I'll have to tell you all later.
Yes, there were birthday spankings, and I believe they'll be posted on YouTube (everyone decided to get a running start. Cruel cruel world.)
Anyhow, off to the head. See you in an hour.
Yes, there were birthday spankings, and I believe they'll be posted on YouTube (everyone decided to get a running start. Cruel cruel world.)
Anyhow, off to the head. See you in an hour.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Illinois Jones at your service.
Well, it's been about a month and a half at sea now. From what the passengers are saying the ocean is pretty rough right now and I'd have to agree. While I can't feel the ship rocking at all anymore, I can visibly see my Coke sloshing back and forth in my glass and it is a bit disconcerting. Anyhow, on with the weeks events.
Lets talk a bit about Firedoors shall we? Firedoors on the ship are typically thick steel doors that have what is essentially a little doggy door on the bottom corner so you can feed a fire hose through. However what they're *actually* used for is smashing your ankle when you attempt to hold them open with your foot. Sadistic Dutch designers... Anyway, on our Royal Promenade (tm) Which is a giant open space, we have firedoors that come crashing in a la Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.
Now every Saturday night we have a parade who's morning preperation involves putting the equivalent of a giant thong onto one of the bridges on said Promenade (tm) which isn't a big deal, except that you have to hop the railing of the bridge and curl yourself around the edge of the Firedoor track to do it (see where this is going? I thought you might)
To continue with the story building nonsequitors, the Promenade (tm) is your typical large space, so when there are announcements over the loudspeaker that don't relate to the day's Bingo, it sounds more like a robot gargling than an actual person's voice.
So here's the scene: I'm dangling over the edge of this precarious 8-9 foot drop (very dramatic, I know. Next time I'll try to do it from the top of the rockwall) attaching this 30 foot long bridge-thong helf on by velcro while my duty partner Dave is setting up a platform on the bridge itself and bragging about his new cellphone blahblahblah. We're going about our business when we hear the usual garble over the loudspeaker, nothing out of the ordinary: "mutterstuffleblahsquelch" so we continue on attaching Velcro and talking about shiny cellphones. Five minutes later I hear behind me "Mutterstuffleblahsquelch!!!!" (It turns out the loudspeaker works just fine, the bridge first officer just happens to *actually* sound like he swallowed a tin can) anyhow: I look up, and crashing down on me is said unstoppable Firedoor: I reach up and go to grab the railing to ungracefully flop myself back onto the bridge and what do I find purchase on? Dave's shiny new cellphone. Dave looks at me with a mixture of panic and "I can't believe he's stealing my new shiny amidst this crisis" and I, finding myself totally off balance with architectural lingerie in one hand and a brand new motorola in the other, start to fall. Now for the cool part, I start to roll off the bridge clinging to life to this banner-bridge-thong-thing, aqnd the velcro starts to rip off for approximately 3 feet until it hits the safety cable which is a Nico-pressed aircraft cable ordeal at which point I find myself swinging down, level, and back up safely on top of the table in front of the irish pub. I blink and realize I have just pulled the coolest manuever I will ever perform in my life. Cellphone in hand, and the bridge officer (being a suave adventurous 20-something dutch tin can eater) tells me that he'll give me 20 dollars if I can do that again. I learn from him that the announcement was that they were testing all the firedoors in that particular area, and that I should probable avoid movie stunts while working.
Next lesson: Karma. Everything evens out. Everything.
Later on that day I'm working on something for the aforementioned parade down on Deck three. Now the two guys I work with in Studio B aren't exactly the most humorous fellows, however for some reason today they're feeling a bit cheaky. We have these handheld confetti cannons, on Saturday they need multicolored confetti, and on wednesday they need blue, but for some reason the blue confetti never got fired out of two of them. So, my Nicaraguan coworker Stevie thinks this a great excuse to shoot one at Eric. Now, at a range of <20 feet these things are essentially tightly packed paper bullets. So, of course, Eric shouts, says some vulgar things and promptly decides that in retribution he should of course shoot the other one at me. Now I am unaware of this whole process as I'm working out in the hall bent over a cart. As I'm tinkering with the cart Dave turns the corner and the whole thing works out like this:
Dave :"Hey!!"
Me: "Oh He-"
*Eric turns the other corner and fires off the cannon, hitting me square in the berries*
*Matt makes various death gurgles as he collapses to the Floor*
Dave: "There's my cellphone!"
Me: "uunghunghuuuuugh"
So in the end Dave got his heroicly stolen phone back in a rather ironic way, and I'm worried that my future children may be born with confetti-shaped dents in their foreheads; but the saving grace is that in the aftermath I told Eric that one day soon he'd find his headset magically covered in a particularly strong adhesive, or that in his drink he'd suddenly discover some sort of new industrial laxative. While this in itself seems cruel, the fact is I'll never do anything to him and he's spent the last two days paranoid about touching anything for fear of my testicle-vengeance; so I'll let the paranoia be my revenge.
Anyhow, enough of my morning ramblings: I hope everything's going well where you are, and I'd like to open the forum to any questions you have about cruise ships, the life, the vacation, the caribbean, the ports etc. So feel free to leave a comment. Take care
Lets talk a bit about Firedoors shall we? Firedoors on the ship are typically thick steel doors that have what is essentially a little doggy door on the bottom corner so you can feed a fire hose through. However what they're *actually* used for is smashing your ankle when you attempt to hold them open with your foot. Sadistic Dutch designers... Anyway, on our Royal Promenade (tm) Which is a giant open space, we have firedoors that come crashing in a la Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.
Now every Saturday night we have a parade who's morning preperation involves putting the equivalent of a giant thong onto one of the bridges on said Promenade (tm) which isn't a big deal, except that you have to hop the railing of the bridge and curl yourself around the edge of the Firedoor track to do it (see where this is going? I thought you might)
To continue with the story building nonsequitors, the Promenade (tm) is your typical large space, so when there are announcements over the loudspeaker that don't relate to the day's Bingo, it sounds more like a robot gargling than an actual person's voice.
So here's the scene: I'm dangling over the edge of this precarious 8-9 foot drop (very dramatic, I know. Next time I'll try to do it from the top of the rockwall) attaching this 30 foot long bridge-thong helf on by velcro while my duty partner Dave is setting up a platform on the bridge itself and bragging about his new cellphone blahblahblah. We're going about our business when we hear the usual garble over the loudspeaker, nothing out of the ordinary: "mutterstuffleblahsquelch" so we continue on attaching Velcro and talking about shiny cellphones. Five minutes later I hear behind me "Mutterstuffleblahsquelch!!!!" (It turns out the loudspeaker works just fine, the bridge first officer just happens to *actually* sound like he swallowed a tin can) anyhow: I look up, and crashing down on me is said unstoppable Firedoor: I reach up and go to grab the railing to ungracefully flop myself back onto the bridge and what do I find purchase on? Dave's shiny new cellphone. Dave looks at me with a mixture of panic and "I can't believe he's stealing my new shiny amidst this crisis" and I, finding myself totally off balance with architectural lingerie in one hand and a brand new motorola in the other, start to fall. Now for the cool part, I start to roll off the bridge clinging to life to this banner-bridge-thong-thing, aqnd the velcro starts to rip off for approximately 3 feet until it hits the safety cable which is a Nico-pressed aircraft cable ordeal at which point I find myself swinging down, level, and back up safely on top of the table in front of the irish pub. I blink and realize I have just pulled the coolest manuever I will ever perform in my life. Cellphone in hand, and the bridge officer (being a suave adventurous 20-something dutch tin can eater) tells me that he'll give me 20 dollars if I can do that again. I learn from him that the announcement was that they were testing all the firedoors in that particular area, and that I should probable avoid movie stunts while working.
Next lesson: Karma. Everything evens out. Everything.
Later on that day I'm working on something for the aforementioned parade down on Deck three. Now the two guys I work with in Studio B aren't exactly the most humorous fellows, however for some reason today they're feeling a bit cheaky. We have these handheld confetti cannons, on Saturday they need multicolored confetti, and on wednesday they need blue, but for some reason the blue confetti never got fired out of two of them. So, my Nicaraguan coworker Stevie thinks this a great excuse to shoot one at Eric. Now, at a range of <20 feet these things are essentially tightly packed paper bullets. So, of course, Eric shouts, says some vulgar things and promptly decides that in retribution he should of course shoot the other one at me. Now I am unaware of this whole process as I'm working out in the hall bent over a cart. As I'm tinkering with the cart Dave turns the corner and the whole thing works out like this:
Dave :"Hey!!"
Me: "Oh He-"
*Eric turns the other corner and fires off the cannon, hitting me square in the berries*
*Matt makes various death gurgles as he collapses to the Floor*
Dave: "There's my cellphone!"
Me: "uunghunghuuuuugh"
So in the end Dave got his heroicly stolen phone back in a rather ironic way, and I'm worried that my future children may be born with confetti-shaped dents in their foreheads; but the saving grace is that in the aftermath I told Eric that one day soon he'd find his headset magically covered in a particularly strong adhesive, or that in his drink he'd suddenly discover some sort of new industrial laxative. While this in itself seems cruel, the fact is I'll never do anything to him and he's spent the last two days paranoid about touching anything for fear of my testicle-vengeance; so I'll let the paranoia be my revenge.
Anyhow, enough of my morning ramblings: I hope everything's going well where you are, and I'd like to open the forum to any questions you have about cruise ships, the life, the vacation, the caribbean, the ports etc. So feel free to leave a comment. Take care
Monday, April 6, 2009
it's been a long month
So the last few days have been the first since I've gotten here that I haven't been on duty. This means I've slept. a lot. it's been glorious. Everytime I think I just can't sleep anymore, I take a 5 hour nap.
Well, at least in my head that's what I'm doing.
In all reality the days of not being ridiculously busy all day are rather..annoying. I work for about 45 minutes, then have a half hour break, then an hour, then 45 minute break, etc etc ad nauseum. So while I only work 10 hours a day, it takes up the time from 8:30am to well past midnight.
But aside from all the complaining, things are going well. I just had my 30 day evaluation and am apparently doing very well. Unfortunately though the company has put a freeze on merit increases to your pay, so I got hosed out of that one.
Alas, I have to go clean for Captain's inspection but I'll try to update again later today.
Ciao
-Matt
Well, at least in my head that's what I'm doing.
In all reality the days of not being ridiculously busy all day are rather..annoying. I work for about 45 minutes, then have a half hour break, then an hour, then 45 minute break, etc etc ad nauseum. So while I only work 10 hours a day, it takes up the time from 8:30am to well past midnight.
But aside from all the complaining, things are going well. I just had my 30 day evaluation and am apparently doing very well. Unfortunately though the company has put a freeze on merit increases to your pay, so I got hosed out of that one.
Alas, I have to go clean for Captain's inspection but I'll try to update again later today.
Ciao
-Matt
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