Rollin' With Da Homies
Okay, so a brief shot at a desciption of the cruise -- with the ever-amazing Whitney, Erin, and Jessie...
Day 1 : Arrive on boat. One of the first in line. Ridiculously simple entrance. Everyone else has their bathing suits, but whatever. We chill. End up with the most amazing Tablemates ever-- Mike, John, Greg, and Matt. They look and drink like frat boys, but are funny, down to earth, and crazy. Drinking at the Piano Man bar (later to become a staple in our nights) to sing along to Queen and Billy Joel and Radiohead. Some nice boy buys us three rounds of tequila shots. Boy later becomes a good friend (and now facebook friend!) of ours. I can never, ever remember his name-- so I call him Casper (it's Caleb).
Day 2 : Freeport. I GO SNORKELING. Well, I have a drink and THEN go snorkeling. (Ocean is my number one fear.) Way fun, way enjoyable, way everything. Eat conch fritters and watch some dude do a limbo under a below-one-foot stick. Seriously. Formal night. Lookin' good. Go to Captain's Cocktail party. Drink at least 16 drinks between the four of us. Meet some West Point kids. Get really excited to be their friends. Tablemates are off to the side, and we don't invite them to sit with us for fear of looking obsessive (we did not know how cool they were at this point). They later tell us they were doing to the same thing. Tablemates continue to be awesome. I THINK there's a party on the top deck, but I can't decide which night that was. Go dancing at the club next to the Piano Man bar (another staple of our evenings). Meet a couple of kids that are also moving to LA in August to attempt acting (and one's a psych major!). Awesome.
Day 3 : Day At Sea. Up at 8. On the deck by 8:30 (with an AMAZING breakfast in hand). Watch a Hairiest Man contest (the right guy wins). Lose my earrings. Win enough money on the Wheel of Fortune game to buy everyone a round of tequila shots. Get upset about something and walk in on Jessie sitting on top of a half-naked (amazing music loving) man. Find out later that (literally) nothing had happened. Make a fool of myself once or twice.
Day 4 : Grand Cayman. I don't leave because I am BURNT. Watch Running With Scissors instead. Bad movie. Enjoy yet another episode of Judge Joe Brown with Erin (fucking awesome). Steal Whitney's camera for a bit, but then realize that she takes much better pictures than I. Our bartender tells us that at the end of the week, she's going to buy us free shots. More Piano Man. More dancing. A Southern boy tells Erin that she dances like a 'black chick.' Erin is much enthused by the compliment.
Day 5 : Mayan Ruins. Get a 50% off massage, so wake up at 7:30 and practically sleep through the wonderfulness. Mayan Ruins amazing, though it is very, very, very hot. Dawns upon us that the trip is soon coming to a close. Much sadness. Next formal night. Follow psych-major-acting-friend to pizza at 5am and meet what I assume were cool people (but I cannot be sure). Slip on the deck at 5:30, exposing myself to the no one that was out there. Thank god.
Day 6 : Day At Sea. More deck hopping. Go on our last slide (there was a gigantic slide by the pool). Watch the video with us on it a number of times (the camera man loved us). Take a nap, but no one can sleep because we're all so sad that it's the last day. Erin and I go for our last pre-dinner drink, and it is just way too sad. More Piano Bar. More dancing. More making stupid but way fun decisions.
Day 7 : Wake up still drunk (first time ever, at least to this extent). Call everyone in my phone book until my phone dies. Get home.
As Erin said, this trip was a real wake-up call. I feel like I've been really, really without this senior year-- just not at all involved with DC. We plan on making changes-- namely, "Taking the world by the balls [thanks, Erin]." And I'm not using any gaddamn classwork as any excuse, fuckers!
It also made me realized just how apathetic I've been most of the year. I just haven't been... much of anything. Though I'm sure it won't change my life, I would like to check back into therapy for a bit, if just to get an outsider's opinion on some shite. Most likely when I get to LA. Hell knows everyone in LA needs a good psych!
I cannot wait for the summer, LA, the future.
Love,
K.
Day 1 : Arrive on boat. One of the first in line. Ridiculously simple entrance. Everyone else has their bathing suits, but whatever. We chill. End up with the most amazing Tablemates ever-- Mike, John, Greg, and Matt. They look and drink like frat boys, but are funny, down to earth, and crazy. Drinking at the Piano Man bar (later to become a staple in our nights) to sing along to Queen and Billy Joel and Radiohead. Some nice boy buys us three rounds of tequila shots. Boy later becomes a good friend (and now facebook friend!) of ours. I can never, ever remember his name-- so I call him Casper (it's Caleb).
Day 2 : Freeport. I GO SNORKELING. Well, I have a drink and THEN go snorkeling. (Ocean is my number one fear.) Way fun, way enjoyable, way everything. Eat conch fritters and watch some dude do a limbo under a below-one-foot stick. Seriously. Formal night. Lookin' good. Go to Captain's Cocktail party. Drink at least 16 drinks between the four of us. Meet some West Point kids. Get really excited to be their friends. Tablemates are off to the side, and we don't invite them to sit with us for fear of looking obsessive (we did not know how cool they were at this point). They later tell us they were doing to the same thing. Tablemates continue to be awesome. I THINK there's a party on the top deck, but I can't decide which night that was. Go dancing at the club next to the Piano Man bar (another staple of our evenings). Meet a couple of kids that are also moving to LA in August to attempt acting (and one's a psych major!). Awesome.
Day 3 : Day At Sea. Up at 8. On the deck by 8:30 (with an AMAZING breakfast in hand). Watch a Hairiest Man contest (the right guy wins). Lose my earrings. Win enough money on the Wheel of Fortune game to buy everyone a round of tequila shots. Get upset about something and walk in on Jessie sitting on top of a half-naked (amazing music loving) man. Find out later that (literally) nothing had happened. Make a fool of myself once or twice.
Day 4 : Grand Cayman. I don't leave because I am BURNT. Watch Running With Scissors instead. Bad movie. Enjoy yet another episode of Judge Joe Brown with Erin (fucking awesome). Steal Whitney's camera for a bit, but then realize that she takes much better pictures than I. Our bartender tells us that at the end of the week, she's going to buy us free shots. More Piano Man. More dancing. A Southern boy tells Erin that she dances like a 'black chick.' Erin is much enthused by the compliment.
Day 5 : Mayan Ruins. Get a 50% off massage, so wake up at 7:30 and practically sleep through the wonderfulness. Mayan Ruins amazing, though it is very, very, very hot. Dawns upon us that the trip is soon coming to a close. Much sadness. Next formal night. Follow psych-major-acting-friend to pizza at 5am and meet what I assume were cool people (but I cannot be sure). Slip on the deck at 5:30, exposing myself to the no one that was out there. Thank god.
Day 6 : Day At Sea. More deck hopping. Go on our last slide (there was a gigantic slide by the pool). Watch the video with us on it a number of times (the camera man loved us). Take a nap, but no one can sleep because we're all so sad that it's the last day. Erin and I go for our last pre-dinner drink, and it is just way too sad. More Piano Bar. More dancing. More making stupid but way fun decisions.
Day 7 : Wake up still drunk (first time ever, at least to this extent). Call everyone in my phone book until my phone dies. Get home.
As Erin said, this trip was a real wake-up call. I feel like I've been really, really without this senior year-- just not at all involved with DC. We plan on making changes-- namely, "Taking the world by the balls [thanks, Erin]." And I'm not using any gaddamn classwork as any excuse, fuckers!
It also made me realized just how apathetic I've been most of the year. I just haven't been... much of anything. Though I'm sure it won't change my life, I would like to check back into therapy for a bit, if just to get an outsider's opinion on some shite. Most likely when I get to LA. Hell knows everyone in LA needs a good psych!
I cannot wait for the summer, LA, the future.
Love,
K.