You might think I would be anxious to avoid cruise ships, having just gone through some of the worst seasickness in my life aboard one. Nope. Saturday morning I did a shipboard inspection of a Princess ship docked at San Francisco for the day on her way to Alaska for the summer. I was anxious to compare it to the Norwegian Sea which was my first cruise experience. Night and day, friends, night and day. The public spaces were very much like a four star hotel instead of a tricked out freighter. There was good, attractive art everywhere, including the hallways. The rooms were much larger than the Norwegian Sea's, and the color scheme was a very pretty aqua, navy, gold and white instead of utilitarian grey. There were 14 floors instead of 10 and it held 1800 instead of 1400, so it was obviously a much larger vessel but this was to its advantage. I kept exclaiming at the differences between the two lines as my co-worker and I walked all through the ship.
Take it from me, if you're going to go on a cruise and you aren't sure if you'll like it, go on one of the newer, bigger ships. I believe Royal Caribbean is just as nice as Princess, and I've heard the staterooms on Carnival are excellent as well. Had I been on Princess I would have minded being seasick a whole lot less. If you're going to be sick, better to be sick in a Westin than a Holiday Inn.
In the evening I went to Lynn Peril's 40th birthday party. I don't see her often enough, mostly due to my own laziness as she lives across the Bay and I rarely cross a bridge. The party was faboo, with excellent live entertainment and some mighty fine rum punch. The fun thing about Lynn and Johnny's parties is their friends love to dress up. A fellow in a 20's straw boater and high-waisted suit will be talking to Orbit or a girl in a vintage late 70's leather jacket totally punked out. The house is packed to the rafters with a stunning collection of records, books, toys, and kitsch from the 50's and early 60's and I never get tired of wandering around looking at all the neat things they have.
My contribution, a sort of housewarming cum birthday gift was a ceramic cat, elongated and quizzical, which I found at an antiques and collectibles show in 1999. That's right, I've had it for a year and a half and never got my ass over the bridge to give it to Lynn. But the main reason I didn't give it to her before now was I packed it last March and couldn't find the box it was in until about 4pm on Saturday as I frantically went through every single box marked "Fragile." John was the one who found it in the end. He has a much better idea of where things are in the garage than I do.
On Sunday I dutifully took my last Biology test and looked longingly out at my new toy, a bright red wheelbarrow. I didn't work in the yard at all this weekend, too many other things to do and the weather was kind of lousy. If I were devoted I would get out there and prepare the ground where my new roses are going to go in the last bit of daylight, but I'm not that devoted. Yes, I ordered roses. Go here to get the full story. Anyway, believe me, when those roses show up at the end of the week I won't have a choice, I'll have to dig and add compost and mulch with no more excuses. So instead I spent two hours with Denise exclaiming and enthusing over new shoes (hers), new earrings (mine), and gardening mistakes (ours). It was very therapeutic. I needed some of that. All work and no play makes Lucy very crabby indeed. The psychiatrist is Out.
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