A cruise story...

My cruise mates all live in North Carolina. When deciding for sure whether or not to go on said cruise, I then had to decide...drive or fly. Thank goodness I had enough frequent flier miles to fly. Because honestly? I might as well have tried to swim back from the Bahamas as get off the boat and then drive back to Illinois.

To make this a readable length entry, let's just say I over packed. In my defense, it sounded like everyone else was bringing a lot of stuff. I'm good at stuff. I'm really good at bringing stuff I don't need. The schedules worked out so that my cruise mates got into Charleston right after I did, so they picked me up at the airport. It was hot.

It was really hot and there really wasn't enough room for my bags. By the grace of God and a true Southern gentleman, we got everything in the car and drove to the hotel. And I repacked my two bags worth of stuff into my smaller bag and my carry on. It also came to my attention that I? Carry entirely too much crap with me.

Cruise day. We have a leisurely breakfast and getting ready morning, then go out to pack the car. Why I bothered with hair or make up is a mystery because I was drenched in sweat and the make up had slid off my face and was somewhere between my bra and my undies. Take THAT Tammy Faye. Also? We had no Southern gentleman to help us shove everything back in Tina's car and I couldn't bring myself to abandon my bigger suitcase. But we got it done, cause we are righteous babes like that. Uh, I mean we are intelligent capable women like that.

Unfortunately, during the packing of stuff into the car, the two pairs of lighter colored pants I owned got something black on the legs. My Tide to go? Did not make the marks disappear. But seriously - I should know better than to wear light colored pants when traveling. It's like putting my kids in white shirts before a photo shoot and then taking them for pizza. Not the best idea.

I have to give Carnival credit, they were efficient at getting us on the boat. It took no time at all and we got to drop off our luggage with the porters. When we got on the boat? They had lunch all ready (since our rooms weren't) and information booths and employees set up everywhere to help you out. The only problem is that it was miserably hot and humid outside and inside seating was hard to find for that reason. So we opted out of eating because of that and because we'd had a late breakfast.

Once our rooms were ready, we headed down and waited for our luggage to arrive so we could unpack. We were going to take a picture of all of us by setting the timer on my camera, but I encountered technical difficulty (technically, the operator knew not what she was doing) and while we eventually got the pictures, we also got this one:

Doesn't the bed look comfy? It totally was!

And then the cruise began. Now I know you guys are expecting a funny story, so this is the best I can do. Our cabin steward, a little guy who hailed from India, was just really nice and sweet and young Really, really young. And probably quite lonely and homesick. I, being immensely appreciative that he would be the one making the bed, cleaning the bathroom, vacuuming and dusting for the next six days, was determined to be really nice to him. I think he might have taken it the wrong way, because by day three, he was coming by a lot. Actually, it seemed like he worked around 20 hours a day because he was always doing something in one of the rooms or the hallway.

Saturday morning, I was in the room trying to cool off after my workout and he knocked on our door to bring us ice. We chatted for few minutes and the subject of working out came up (stop laughing, Tina). He asked me what he could do to build up is chest and arms and I said...push ups. He seemed not to know what this meant, so I ended up showing him what a push up was.

Yeah, yeah. I was just trying to be nice. So after our little chat, he gives me a hug. No big deal, right? Right. Only then he started coming by more and more often. I was a little uncomfortable with this - one: I'm happily married, two: I didn't want to give him the wrong idea or lead him on or get him in any kind of trouble, three: when I hid in the bathroom to avoid him, I knew I had to deal with this. I mean, I can't hide forever, right? Especially if I want the bathroom cleaned without having to do it myself.

The night of the bathroom hiding, Tina was giving me a hard time at dinner (good naturedly, of course -- and I did kind of deserve it for showing him push ups. Gullible!) and I was drinking a lot of water. We had purchased soda cards, which meant that you paid a flat fee per day and then got all the soda we could drink. I don't really drink much soda anymore and I was on soda overload so I was missing water. However, by drinking four glasses of water by the main course on top of all the soda I'd had that day, my kidneys and bladder went into hyper drive and I got up to go to the bathroom. The only problem with that? I wasn't sure where the nearest restroom was. So I go outside the dining room...no bathroom. Hmmm. I go down a floor. No bathroom. But - I was only one floor away from the deck where our room was.

Only problem with that? It was clear on the other side of the boat. But I can make it. I take off down the steps and down the hallway. I really, really have to go. And being concerned about having to go and no place in which to do so? Makes me have to go even worse. So, I ran. And when I say ran, I mean I kicked off my shoes, picked them up, and hauled ass. I should mention here that I? Am not so much about the running. And a really full bladder and added pressure from thundering down the hallway like an out of control hippo? Baaaaad idea. By the time I rounded the last corner that led to the hallway to our room, I was in a mild panic. I didn't think I was going to make it. This is one of those times where the lasting effects from a 12 pound baby makes itself known. And there was a little light leakage going on, truth be told. So as I thunder around the corner, I see our cabin steward in the hallway talking to another employee.

Oh, crap. He greets me enthusiastically and I gallop right by, holding my hand up and saying..."Sorry, but I really gotta pee!"

How's THAT for ladylike, hmmm?

And then I have trouble getting my key in to open the door. I fling open the door and the...uh...leakage amps up a little. The one problem with cruise doors? When you fling them open, there's a magnet that holds the door open and it takes a good amount of effort to break the hold and close it. Same is true of the bathroom door. So by the time I get in the room and in the bathroom and get the doors closed, I'm doing what had to be a hilarious pee dance. Luckily my pants were baggy, because I just yank them down. And then I pee for what seems like a half hour. And also? I have to change my pants and undies. Hey, it happens. So I wash them in the sink and hang them up in the shower. I put on new ones and head back to dinner where I tell the girls that I think the problem with the cabin steward had resolved itself. Peeing on yourself tends to do that, I'd guess. Plus, I'm sure he saw the clothes in the shower when he cleaned our bathroom and put two and two together. From that point on, he was nice but way more distant.

And that, ladies? Is how you gently let down an unwanted suitor. Any other relationship advice you may desire can be addressed in the comments section. ::snorts of laughter::