Marlee Matlin has Nothing To Worry About

We're at sea for two weeks.  This requires two crew emergency drills.  After the first drill, the captain decides he's really going to stress his crew, and invites the passengers to participate in the drill.  (Right up to actually abandoning the ship.)  Now, he doesn't just want us to be good little passengers who hear the alarm, get our life jackets, go to our muster stations, and calmly follow directions to the lifeboats.  Oh hell no.  Captain Tom wants to really test the crew, so invites anyone with an interest to come to a "pre-drill casting session," where he and the first officer hand out parts to play.

I am so there.  I mean, when else am I going to have the opportunity to run up and down the corridors, yelling, "WE'RE GONNA DIE!!!"?

And that was, in fact, a role he was casting.  (The First Officer had a few dozen strips of paper on which he'd written short descriptions of how to behave.)  But there were fewer interested passengers than he'd hoped, so I had to let someone else take "panicked."  (There was also "aggressively drunk," "medical emergency," and one that wasn't actually called "Karen," but was a Karen.)  But he also wanted someone who speaks a foreign language and could revert back to it - on the theory that when people panic, they go back to their mother tongue.  And he wanted to see what his crew would do if faced with someone who all of a sudden couldn't understand English.

I looked around at my fellow volunteers, and nobody had the language skills.  I considered my own abilities and said, "I could, uh, be Deaf."

Captain and First Officer immediately decided this would be good for the drill.  I got the strip of paper intended for a non-English speaker and it directed me to approach the crew member and watch them panic as they can't communicate with me and try to find a translator.  Sounds fun.

I realized this was a risk.  My ASL skills are substantially out of practice.  (If they have an actual interpreter on board, I'm hosed.)  But I googled to confirm a few signs I figured I might need, and entered the drill on the assumption that my signing knowledge was likely to be better than their signing knowledge, which was really all we needed for this to work.

It worked.  It worked perfectly.  I put on my confused face, looked at all the crew gathering in their life jackets, started increasing my panic and signed "what's happening?" at the nearest crewmember.  He handed me a pen (he wanted to know my cabin number, but I didn't "hear" him) so I just wrote, "what's happening?" across his paper.  One of his colleagues picked up on it, sat me down, and tried to explain about the (mock) fire being (mock) fought with charades.  I was still confused.  At some point, she had a lightbulb moment and realized she knew how to fingerspell, and she slowly signed W-A-T-E-R and pretended she was waving a hose.  I calmed down.  (But I stayed in character, and never lost track of where she was, because she was the one crew member who knew how to tell me what to do.)

The entire drill lasted about 45 minutes.  In addition to those of us playing our roles (when the Karen put on her life jacket and asked "is this only size this comes in?" I nearly lost it), a BUNCH of other passengers decided to join in at the "abandon ship" bell, so a good deal of passengers lined up at the muster stations (and quite a few of them legit forgot where their muster station was) with life jackets and marched together to the lifeboat boarding area, where the drill ended.

We had a post-drill feedback session with the captain, where we all had many suggestions for improvement.  (I suggested they learn just a handful (heh) of signs.  You could do a lot with "safe," "stay," and "follow.")  A surprising take-away was that the lifejackets were stunningly difficult to put on.  (The nice lady had told me not to get mine; they would have extras before we get in the lifeboat.  And they did.  The drill ended with everyone passing me a brand new lifejacket from a cabinet near the lifeboat.  I got it over my head, but the damn strap would not unwrap, wrap around me, and click in front - without the help of two other people.  Not ideal for an emergency situation.  Someone else timed his - it took them SEVEN MINUTES to get it on him.)  This ship has different lifejackets from the rest of the line's fleet and it's pretty much item number one in the captain's notes for this ship to swap in the other type of jacket.  And I'm not sure they would've known that if the Captain hadn't encouraged passengers to participate in the drill.

Felt really good to help out.  And I later had a chat with my fingerspelling crewmember, who had surprised herself when realizing that she knew how to do that.  Now, she has a bit of added confidence that she could cope with this scenario.

Here's yesterday's sunset.  You're welcome.

Stargazing at Sea

I went to the rescheduled Stargazing.  A group of about 20 of us gathered on the forward deck in near total darkness.  (They even turned off the running lights so we'd get a better look.)  We're apparently 900 nautical miles from the Bahamas, and we were starting to get a little bit of light pollution from them and the East Coast.  From 900 freakin' miles away.  Which I guess shows just how dark it was in the North Atlantic.

We saw about a zillion stars (rough estimate).  It was dark enough that we could see the Milky Way (looking ... like a milky stripe, as it does).  I've only had that kind of view one other time - when I was at the bottom of the Grand Canyon.  I'm gonna tell you how dark it was... We had about a half hour of gorgeous star cover.  That came to a close when some clouds rolled in.  Once the clouds covered the light from the stars, we looked over the railing of the ship and saw some patches of bioluminescence deep in the ocean.  (Super cool.)

Captain had a pretty strong laser pointer, with which he very clearly pointed out stars, and a couple planets.  (Saturn was bright; Jupiter brighter.)  Folks seemed pretty interested in seeing the constellations, so he pointed out the half-dozen or so that we could see.  I spotted the easy ones, but mostly ignored the rest -- I honestly don't care how I'm supposed to make out a winged horse out of that square of stars; I was way more interested in just leaning back and looking at the, you know, majestic carpet of stars rolled out overhead.  Fucking glorious.  (Some folks were trying to take pictures with their cell phone cameras; I'm pretty sure they're going to be disappointed with the results.)  Astronomer friend was there adding details about the stars.  (For instance, the captain pointed out that Sirius is actually two stars; Astronomer added that it's a primary star with a white dwarf about the size of earth orbiting it - and that this will be the ultimate fate of our own sun, once it burns up its own energy.)  First officer talked about how to navigate with the stars and how important Polaris is as the North Star (Astronomer added that Polaris is not perfectly aligned with the line connecting earth's poles as we careen through the sky and that the ancient Egyptians actually used a different star for North).

My pet interest astronomically-speaking is exoplanets -- planets outside our solar system.  This is of interest to me because, when I was a kid, I was taught, "we believe there are exoplanets, but we haven't proven it yet."  We've proven it now.  I was impressed when the count was over 800.  Current count of confirmed exoplanets is over SIX THOUSAND.  (Astronomer friend agreed that this is definitely a "within our lifetime" discovery.)  ANYWAY, captain said that the Orion Nebula (he's using his laser pointer and called it a lightsaber, stg) is home to a couple of "rogue exoplanets," which have no sun and are just rotating around each other.  Astronomer friend thinks this is no biggie, but my jaw actually dropped on account of I DIDN'T KNOW EXOPLANETS COULD DO THAT.  So there's one more thing about my understanding of the universe that changed in my lifetime.

Cool.

Grumpy Critic Rides Again (at Sea!)

Most of yesterday (and this morning) was pretty much the same.  

The "noon podcast" has continued to be adorable.  We all love it and it's going on my comment card as something that could be the hallmark of this ship.  (At one point yesterday, the captain got on and jokingly complained that the noonday report is supposed to be "delivered by the captain in a monotone."  Of course, he also reminded us to "continue our love affair with the handrails," and then something about the jacuzzi being available "for jacuzzing.")

We are Officially Going To Lose Trivia - on account of the days being worth vastly different numbers of points.  Maybe we'll win by one point on a day where there are ten or fifteen points available to each team.  Today, there was a massive 45 points available.  (That's about 1/3 of what most teams had going into today.)  It was Duets - you had to name the song and both artists.  We got ourselves a respectable 34.  (If we were PERFECT on what we knew, it would've been 36; but, you know, errors are sometimes made in a team setting.)  But the highest scoring team got a massive 43.  There's no way we're going to make up 10 points on a few more days of standard-scoring trivia.

(On the other hand, we did kind of, uh, slaughter on Musical Theatre Name That Tune.  26 out of 30.  I was annoyed at the ones I brain farted on, whereas the next highest score was, you know, 20.  But this didn't count for the progressive trivia.  Instead, we won a little bag of chocolates for crushing that.  (It was the birthday of one of my friends; he suggested I take the bag back to my cabin, then "present" it to him at dinner like I'd bought it as a gift.)

So:  Grumpy Critic.  I used to refer to myself as Grumpy Critic when I was reviewing, on account of believing I'm pretty hard to get a rave out of.  ("It was entertaining, but ...")  

Last night, there were two competing events on the schedule:  Stargazing with the Captain (and special guest, my (birthday) friend who is an Astronomer) and the Entertainment Manager doing his solo show of Broadway tunes.

Normally, I'd be all over the Stargazing even if my friend wasn't part of it.  But I was curious about Entertainment Manager's voice, and after our performance in Musical Theatre Name That Tune, it was hard to pretend I wasn't interested in showtunes.  We asked him to change the schedule, but he assured us that there would be repeats of the Stargazing.  (I'm hoping for clear skies tonight.)  So I reluctantly said my goodnights to Astronomer and went off to Entertainment Manager's show (as did Astronomer's wife).

Entertainment Manager has a legit West End credit (as a child actor) and has performed in theatre and cabaret, before turning to Entertainment At Sea.  He opened his show with "Love Changes Everything" and, reader, we've got us a legit power tenor here.

Grumpy Critic was immediately mentally rewriting his show.  He's a charming performer and has good rapport with the audience (getting plenty of laughs), but his encore was the absolute wrong song for the moment and he has a tendency to prefer Way Too Much echo in the sound system when he sings.  (Grumpy Critic would also report that she thinks the reason he wasn't more successful on stage is that his voice wants to be Young Leading Man, but he's pushing 40 and his look and personality are more Comic Sidekick, which probably limits opportunities.  (He said he was offered stand-in work on "Wicked" for Boq - this should give you some idea of his frame.)  I was trying to listen to him without actually looking at his face - bit of a challenge as I was in the front row, so made solid eye contact with his shoulder.)  

But if you parse all the grumpy out of that paragraph, I was pretty impressed vocally; I'm not used to cruise ship entertainment being able to pull out some of those power notes without scooping.  Props, my man.  (During his show, he sang one song which he'd said was requested.  It was fine, but not the song for him.  I went into my library and came out with something I think is more fitting for his voice.  He said he's never sung it in public, but will see if he can learn it.  We'll see if that was a blow-off or if he'll give it a go.)

(Also, the Entertainment Manager is a nice young man who LOVES musical theatre, enjoys dressing up in drag as Cher, says his favorite band is Queen and ... has a girlfriend.  When he mentioned this latter bit during his show, you could hear the murmurs of about 100 people deciding they need to take their "gaydar" into the shop for recalibration.)

It wasn't that windy, so I braved standing at Selfie Point at lunch, only to discover that the drop isn't DIRECTLY off the back of the ship -- instead there's a deck a couple stories below.  My brain immediately started posing the word problem ("if the ship is travelling at 13 knots and you drop your phone, will it land on the deck or in the water by the time it gets down there?") but I decided it was best not to try it out. 

I did risk a selfie, but I'd come from the gym and was still wearing a headband, so I'll have to aim for this shot again later.

Middle of the Atlantic

We were supposed to have a party on deck today to celebrate the halfway point of our ocean crossing.  You will note the "supposed to" in that sentence.  The clouds that screwed up stargazing last night stayed with us and decided to make a light rain.  The powers that make decisions on a ship decided that electricity (used by the band, for the party) would be a bad mix with the rain, so pulled the plug on the party.  We'll celebrate being 70% across when the weather is better.

Because the party was cancelled, I dropped by the daily art class, which is where I made Grumpy the Sea Turtle.  (I posted him on Facebook while he was drying.  Now that he's dry and I picked off all the salt - yeah, we used salt for some damn reason - I can show you the final product.  Look now; it's not like he's going to be framed on my wall.)

I'm not entirely happy with the lady teaching the class.  She sort of walks around and, when she sees something in my work she doesn't like, she just fixes it -- without even asking and certainly without teaching me.  Just "this part should be lighter," and next thing I know, she's wet a paper towel and is lightening it up.  I mean, yeah, those parts DO look better now.  But I would rather have my own shitty turtle than her better turtle.  Like I said, I'm not framing it on the wall.

Of course, even when she did tell me what to do, it didn't turn out well.  At one point, after I'd done the pink for his tongue, there was a little bit of white space underneath.  She told me to put a bit more brown there.  I did, and the pink from the tongue immediately started to seep over there.  (Thanks a lot, lady; I would have preferred the white.)  I'm ok with it.  It isn't seeping paint, it's the blood of his enemies on his chin.  Do not fuck with Grumpy.

We did drop 3 points in Trivia yesterday (for a total of 4 down) but we won today, so picked up a point.  So we're three out of first and holding second by a point or two.  I'm pleased, but also miffed; we should've had another point, but I missed a question because I did a stoopid.

As for the crossing, they gave us all certificates - even though the crossing isn't finished.  Seemed awfully optimistic of them.  (Not going to frame this either.)

It isn't just the awkward syntax.  The amusing part is that while the captain's signature is live ink, it's pretty clear that the hotel manager's initials were a cut-and-paste job.  (You can see how they're in the white square that doesn't quite match the white of the certificate.)  OK, yeah, the hotel manager is clearly busy what with the understaffing.  Still, the freakin' CAPTAIN found the time to sign these things.  (Flashback to when I had to sign a stack of Nominee Certificates for the L.A. Drama Critics Circle Awards, knowing that some folks were going to cherish them, while others were going to leave them on the floor at the ceremony.  You just tried to think about the folks for whom it mattered, and keep signing.)

The freakin' Captain is very personable and while I'd like to think he was hired for his ability to, you know, captain the ship across the Atlantic, it's also clear that he is quite good at the part of his job that involves dealing with the guests (and posing for pictures with the drunk ones).  He runs a ... well, I'm not going to say "loose ship," but he's allowing a little more fun among the crew, which is really enjoyable.  Every day at noon, the bridge officers do an update on our status - ship's location, bearing, speed, ocean depth, weather, ... stuff like that.  I've previously heard it delivered in that same buzzing loudspeaker voice that you hear on planes that starts with "this is your captain speaking."  Pretty dull stuff.  So, a couple days in, the captain was down in the Lounge to give us the story about the rocky weather we were facing and he was going to talk to us right at noon.  So we hear the update from the bridge officers, and it sounds like a couple of the younger officers got their hands on the mic while the captain was away (although I'm certain they actually had permission).  They are "welcoming us to the noon podcast."  They're kind of adorable and the captain is in the Lounge with us, watching how well it goes over.  ("I'm Matt."  "And I'm Ben."  "And we are ... Ben and Matthew.")  We actually applaud it.  We found out later that the two of them have only known each other less than three weeks, but they definitely have a chemistry and manage to crack us up on the daily.  Now we're at the point where the "noon podcast" has a special guest each day, as different departments are trying to get in on the fun.

I got invited to dinner at Matthew's table tomorrow.  I think it would be delightful, but had to decline on account of it being my friend's birthday and we had planned a special birthday dinner.  When I sent my regrets, I made certain to indicate I'd love to go another time.

Tomorrow is a heavily-scheduled day, what with rescheduling some of the stuff that has been cancelled before.  Gotta get my sleep on.

Addendum

Food came right after I posted.  :)

I inhaled it and headed off to the Stargazing.  I'm walking down the hallway between an older woman, wearing a bathrobe, and her companion.  I'm making casual conversation.  It doesn't take me too long to catch on to the fact that she is, uh, in her cups. 

She stops walking and grabs my arm.

Her:  Who are you?

Me:  I'm Sharon.

Her:  Where are you from?

Me:  Los Angeles.

Her:  Why haven't I seen you before?

My brain says, "You have; you're just drunk off your ass," but my mouth stops it in time and says something like, "I don't know.  I've been here."

We make our way out on deck in the dark (for to see the stars).  The Captain will be joining us in a few, but the First Officer is out there now, using a small red light to guide us so that we don't fall over but also don't ruin our night vision.  The sloshed lady from before is taking out her phone to get better light to see, which is kind of defeating the purpose (but I understand where she may be more discombobulated than most.  Someone ought to combobulate her right quick).

Sadly, the clouds have made an appearance and there isn't much stargazing to be done.  We can see one star.  Captain points it out (Sirius) and we all applaud.  He thanks us for coming and promises to reschedule when multiple stars will be visible.  We head back inside to the well-lit hallway.  As I'm leaving, I hear someone say that she's not going until she gets a picture standing between the Captain and the First Officer while she's wearing her bathrobe.

OK, then.  

Not Just a Blog Post, It's a Race

The crew is working its collective ass off.  The biggest problem with this ship is that there just aren't enough of them.  (Crew, not asses.  We have enough asses.  Mostly among the passengers.  But I digress.)

The problem is a physical one - insufficient crew cabins.  There's a really obvious solution and it's on the deck plan - 10 guest cabins on the Deck 3.  (The ship is set up so that all the places we have to go are on Deck 4 or higher (with the exception of the tender platform) and nearly all passenger cabins are on Deck 5 or 6, with some extra spendy ones up on Deck 7.  Deck 3 are the cheapest cabins and they probably sell (on account of being less expensive) but I reckon that if they drop those cabins, they wouldn't lose all the revenue -- some (if not all) of those folks would just pay for pricier cabins.  (There are upwards of 20 empty cabins on this sailing anyway.)  What I'm saying here is:  other than the costs of remodelling those spaces into crew cabins (and whatever other changes would go into that deck not accommodating passengers), there would likely be minimal loss of revenue with converting them into crew spaces, which would enable them to hire the additional crew they really really need.

Which brings us, by the way, to the race.  I'm ordering room service tonight because I don't feel like the big dinner in one of the restaurants.  When I called they were so busy they had to call me back in ten minutes.  The order went in and I started writing.  Will there be blog first or burger first?  (I'm betting on blog, but am happy to be proven wrong.)

(I am reluctant to provide today's Trivia Report, in which, rather than gaining ground on the team we were only 1 point behind, we, er, screwed the pooch and dropped, like, 3 more points to them.  A few other teams might have gotten ahead of us too.  Not our finest hour.  Half-hour.  Whatever.)

But I also wanted to show you my favorite spot on the ship, which was conveniently empty for good photographing.  On Decks 5 and 6 (where most of the guests are), most of the cabins have balconies.  Some of them do not.  There's a few lounge chairs set up in the very back of the deck -- I like to think of this as the communal balcony for the folks on the deck (like myself) who don't have rooms with balconies (although it's really open to everyone).  Look how welcoming!  

I even took a selfie!  (That railing was not nearly as threatening as that one by breakfast I posted the other day.)

Look at that!  Calm seas!  Occasional white puffy cloud!  Happy Sharon!

Indeed, the skies are so nice that the Captain has scheduled a little "Stargazing at Sea" tonight.  I'm thinking "middle of the Atlantic" should be pretty good from a dark sky perspective, so I'm hoping for some good viewing.

(After burger.  Which will, indeed, follow blog.)

The Yacht Club

The Yacht Club is the name of both Windstar's loyalty program AND the lounge with the windowed walls all around it.  (This has, on occasion, made for some confusing conversations.  You know, because the Yacht Club party is held in the Lounge, while there's private party in the Yacht Club.)

I have already turned in my mid-cruise comment card.  (I'm making a point of only suggesting things that can actually be resolved mid-cruise.)  But if I could have another card, I would suggest posting the Yacht Club hours and offerings by the door in the Yacht Club.  Or on the bar itself.  Because while its daily hours are listed in the app for each mealtime, certain nuances are in fact discovered when you're there.

For example, it has a "Continental Breakfast" until 11:00, and Lunch from 11:00.  Except, it only has a single employee in there, and it takes her about 10 minutes to do the food changeover.  So, really, it should be Breakfast until about 10:55 and Lunch from 11:10.  Which is not a major distinction, but is a significant one if you overslept and are trying to grab a quick muffin before Trivia.

(We started today down by one and tied on today's TV Trivia.  Tomorrow is General Knowledge.  I'm already preparing for questions on General Mills, General Electric, Modern Major-General....)

The listings also say the Yacht Club has lunch from 11:00 to 5:00, but fail to mention that scones magically appear at some point in the afternoon (I found them today at 4:00ish) and also that EVEN COFFEE WON'T HAPPEN after 5:00.  The club itself is still open but the service is closed, while the Yacht Club flips into a bar for evening hours.  I don't know how many times I watched the nice lady explain that folks had to go elsewhere for their coffee (and/or alcholic beverage) needs while I was quietly munching on my scone today.  Part of this problem comes from folks familiar with the Yacht Club on other Windstar ships - where it is pretty much the coffee shop straight through.  But here, it turns into a bar at night, and the staff gets an hour to do the conversion.  So, yeah, signage.

I also would rip the sign off the bathroom wall in the bathroom outside the main restaurant.  That sign is a little graphic showing that the door opens outward.  The door actually opens inward.  (There's another sign that suggests you open the door with your "paper towel," but these bathrooms provide little fabric hand towels, so that sign, too, is a bit misleading.)  Ah, the fun of being on a maiden voyage.

Had a nice little exercise in the gym today.  MUCH easier to walk on the treadmill when you don't have to keep a death grip on it for fear you'll go flying off at the next big wave.  The ocean is substantially less choppy (waves of only 2 meters, rather than the previous 3-4) and I even risked swaying my arms a bit while walking my mile.

Today's photo is from my table at lunch, in the little covered outdoor area in the back of the restaurant.  And also the back of the ship.  I'm not exactly sure WHY the deck is constructed with that little place to walk out right in the dead center.  I think of it as the Selfie Spot.  Or the place to pretend to be Rose and Jack (even though that was on the bow and this is the stern).  I also think of it as The Place I Won't Be Taking A Selfie Because I Didn't Bring A Strap For My Phone And Would Rather Not Have It Fly Off While We're Doing Thirteen Knots.

Quick Update

I'll try to be short and sweet today because, you know, Current Events.  (You try REALLY HARD not to talk politics on a cruise unless you know who you're dealing with, but sometimes, you just can't help it.  Most folks were talking about what will happen to upcoming Caribbean cruises.  Windstar has a ship docked in St. Martin that is supposed to be unloading passengers and loading up for the next cruise, but the Venezuela not-official-war-thing has resulted in closing the airport there, so everyone is sort of wondering how Windstar is dealing with that.  I am keenly aware that the impact on Caribbean cruises is not generally your first, second, or even third thought when your government is trying to effectuate regime change in South America, but we do have friends headed there, and are sparing a thought for their safe travels.

Updates on previous posts:

We ended up only two points down in "progressive trivia."  (Conveniently, they decided the picture-of-a-crewmember thing was a multi-way tie, so we didn't lose any ground there.)  Today was "Authors" and we won that, but we're not sure how many points we gained on the team we're chasing.

Weather wasn't quite as bad as yesterday, but NOW they've closed the deck around the lounge with all the windowed walls.  I know this because it looked so much better, I thought I'd give it a try, but was stopped by this sign.  (It reads, "OPEN DECK CLOSED DUE TO STRONG WEATHER CONDITIONS.")

That was FORWARD.  Things were way better AFT.  Indeed, hanging out on the aft decks was permitted and awesome.  Here's that view of my feets on a lounge chair everyone posts.  (I'm still fully clothed, which explains the shoes, but still.  Lovely view.)

Dinner service was getting pretty speedy the past couple days, but was super slow tonight again.  (We spent three hours in there.  Prolly 90 minutes of that was waiting for the entrees after they'd cleared the soup/salad dishes.  We were having a good time and all, but also, you know, hungry.  We think the kitchen staff is overwhelmed.  It has been suggested that some of the crew have succombed to seasickness, which would explain it.  Also seems like maybe they're just understaffed.  It's hard to complain when you see the staff absolutely hustling their butts off and still not being able to get everyone served.)

Also, the dinner menu they posted in the daily app was in no way the dinner menu actually on the table.  Second day in a row that happened.  But the app has limits.  I think my "favorite" part is that the daily schedule always opens with a line about something cool to see in your port city that day, and a suggestion that you take a photo there and tag it on social media.  This is my favorite because we're not stopping in any ports.  So it just has fun facts about the Atlantic, then suggests that would be a great place for a selfie.

I think we've just been told to go jump in the ocean.

Weeeeeee!

The ocean continues to be oceany.  The captain got on the ship-wide radio at 9:00 this morning, to wake us all up and to let us know all outdoor spaces on the ship would be closed today.  They were even cancelling an (indoor) afternoon cocktail party, just on account of not wanting us to try to stand and mingle with drinks in our hands.  It's choppy, is what I'm saying.

Indeed, the captain scheduled a noon briefing for the passengers, all about the weather.  ("This can't be good news," I thought.)  And it wasn't, although not as bad as we feared.  There's an annoying low pressure system (shown on a map with arrows in a scary red pattern) that is causing trouble, and it is expected to continue doing so for the rest of the day and tomorrow, after which it should be smooth sailing.  When he got to that line, we all applauded, and the captain said he'd never seen a crowd applaud when he's given bad news before.

When I got up this morning (to the dulcet tones of various things falling over in my cabin), I was feeling quite green, so resolved to get some seasickness stuff from the ship's doctor.  They used to hand that stuff out like candy - literally, they'd have a little box with individually wrapped pills that you could just take as needed.  But this doctor, I guess, wants to see you first.  (No idea if he charges for the consultation or just wants to do a courtesy check that there's nothing else really wrong with you.)  But when I went to see him, his little office was empty.  My friends had sourced some bonine they were willing to share, and that was the end of my attempts to catch the doctor.

It's too soon to say whether it was the end of my seasickness, but I definitely got through a lot more of today feeling more stable.  (I look forward to shaving my legs - a process not undertaken lightly on a vessel in 4 meter waves.)

Today's art/craft class was decorating a bow tie.  I made this monstrosi- charming little thing using the "splatter method."  She actually suggested we use that.  That's right, we're on a ship rocking sharply up and down in the waves, and they think it's a good idea to give us acrylic paint and direct us to splatter it in the direction of the tables where people eat dinner.  Small plastic placemats were provided, but I'm not sure it ended well for everybody.

Trivia score may be problematic.  We were 12 for 15 today (in Identify the Logo), but several other teams got all 15 - and we were missing our member who would've picked up two of three that we missed.  We can handle losing a point to a few teams, but not dropping 3 points.  (AND WHY IS MY TIE CROOKED?!)

The day ended with the shipboard band playing ABBA songs and while they were going, we hit a sharp wave, had a good bounce, and one of the ceiling panels opened up and starting swinging on its hinge over the audience.  It was put back up soon enough, but we were all laughing that the band literally brought the house down.

New Year's Day

I realize that I put the Happy New Year post in Facebook and never actually went through the deets.

The deets were beautiful.  A few of us went up on the top deck of the ship.  Champagne was delivered and we had an unobstructed view of the fireworks in Tenerife.  I don't think I've ever been on the water to see fireworks before, and it was pretty cool.  

It's hard to show exactly how far away we were - what with pictures normally zooming out and then me zooming in.  In reality, my view was something between the two of these.

I was up there until 1:00 -- the official fireworks had ended but less official ones just kept going.  What can I say?  I was talking with friends, sipping champagne, standing on the deck of a ship in the freakin' Canary Islands and ringing in the New Year.  I had been looking for a break from reality for this trip and certainly got one.  Not sure how long it will last -- not sure how long it SHOULD -- but it was definitely a wonderful way to start 2026.

Slept in quite late today (omg, I missed breakfast) but made it to trivia.  My poem came in second place, so we got some good points for that.  We were definitely in first place coming in to today, and then we hit the roadblock that was Sports.  We did okay.  Actually, we did pretty shitty ... our score would've been pretty close to 50% were it not for the fact that he gave 1 point each for the colors of the Olympic rings, which pushed us closer to 70%.  We'll have to see how bad the damage is tomorrow morning.  (Possibly remedied, or worsened, by the "homework assignment" of drawing a crew member.)

As for the rest of the day, the ocean has been a bit ... oceany, ever since we left the Canaries (at around 2:00 a.m.), I did a lot of sitting and trying to not be seasick.  At one point, I was sitting in a lounge on an upper deck at the bow of the ship; there were doors to the outside on each side of the lounge.  I decided to pop out one door, walk around the front of the ship, and back in the other side door.  It was VERY windy.  I had one hand on the handrail and another keeping my scarf from flying into the ocean.  When there was no handrail, I put my hand on the walls of the lounge - all of which were windows.  I must have made quite the impression on the few people still inside the lounge, clinging to the windows like I'm Spider-Man or something.

They're having sign-ups for the passenger talent show tomorrow.  Wonder if I should perform my fantastic wind walking for a larger audience.

On Line Dances

I have always been fascinated by how your cruise entertainment directors approach the task of getting the "reluctant" passengers to get up and dance.  (There's always one or two who will dance no matter what.)

And seriously, this was NYE, it shouldn't be hard.  Even with the older and more sedentary demographic.

So, last night, after the Name That Tune (but before the fireworks), he had some time to kill and cranked up a line dance ("Cupid Shuffle").  Cruise director was joined by another crew member and pretty much taught everyone the dance by example.  A couple cycles through and they were joined by another crew member.  (I assume this was planned in advance and not "spontaneous," but whatever.)  By the end of the song, they'd managed to get two whole (unrelated) passengers up with them. 

Where to go next?  Another line dance, of course.  "Macarena."  They had two folks here, too.  Not a huge success. 

I'm not sure if I sensed desperation coming off the entertainment manager, but he went to the metaphorical "in case of dance emergency, break glass" case and cranked up "Y.M.C.A."  Passengers from around the room got up and danced along.  I honestly couldn't figure out motivations here.  "Y.M.C.A." lies in the center of a very strange Venn Diagram of Trump Supporters, Gay Rights Supporters, and People Who Attended My Bat Mitzvah.  At the present moment, I don't think there's any song like it. 

I was placing mental bets on where he could go after this.  I commented to the folks I was with that even *I* would get up if he followed with "Time Warp."  He did not.  He went with "Dancing Queen" and everyone sat back down. 

By the time the party had reappeared on deck, they were spinning "Get Lucky."  The woman onboard whose job it is to sell you future cruises boogied on over in my direction in her backless green sequined gown.  Oh girl, no.  I'm not wasting my limited dancing spoons on Daft Punk.

...

We are now solidly in the North Atlantic, 11-12 foot swells rocking the ship.  Most of us are trying to walk without falling down - I, myself, had to do that thing where you run to get your feet underneath wherever the rest of your body has lurched - dancing is not on the menu.

3... 2... 1...

(Hmm, perhaps if I take the blog out of "html view," I can actually compose without having to drop paragraph codes into it.  Wouldn't that be nice?)

It's nearing 11 p.m.  I have a quick break to post before I'm meeting friends up on deck for the big ol' countdown to 2026.  (I'm also half changed.  That's right, Nekkid Blogging.  Try to contain yourselves.)

Big excitement today - we are actually in port.  It's the only real stop on this cruise and was definitely a bit of an incentive to go.  We're in Tenerife in the Canary Islands.  To be sure, I didn't take much advantage of the sights to see here, but it was a LOVELY day.  Like, outrageously lovely, given the rains we had in Malaga.  Actually, we're supposed to have high winds starting shortly after midnight today.  High winds and large waves, right when we're getting back under way.  I don't want to say the crew is battening down hatches, but we noticed them removing all glassware from the beverage station.  (And when I came back to my cabin, the glasses they supply were all huddled in a corner on the floor.)  I dunno, apparently 3 meter waves are ... highish.

For those following our Trivia exploits, our team is now in the lead -- well, we were tied for the lead after yesterday and we won today, which should put us in good stead.  But there are a lot of bonus points out there for the poem contest and mine did get submitted, so we'll see where that leaves us.  (It went over well when he read it aloud, which was nice.)  For tomorrow, we have to submit a sketch of a crew member.  So even if we do ok poetry-wise, we've got to hope our art goes down well.  And nobody on our team is an artist.

(There was an interesting Name That Tune today, which had originally been intended as some sort of speed game but turned into regular team Name That Tune.  We didn't win, but performed respectably.  There were some that I had instantly - so I probably would've done well on those in the speed game; but there were others that definitely required a good think.)

Your first photo here is our ship from a distance.  There's two ships here because Star Seeker (where I am) happened to be park next to its sister ship (from Windstar) the, er, Wind Star.  They got the sails, we got the bigger motor.  (For which I'm sure I'll be grateful in the 3 meter waves.)

The sky looks a little threatening over there, but that's just in that direction; turn your head and it's freakin' beautiful.

I had a walk in Tenerife.  I went up the shopping street but didn't end up buying anything.  (Why would I walk into New Era and buy a Dodgers cap in the Canary Islands?)  But it was a good 8000-step walk and the day was, as previously mentioned (look at it!) freakin' beautiful.  Here's the view from my cabin when we were docked.

I'm not going to get all philosophical about the New Year.  There was a lot I didn't really dig about 2025, but right now, I'm not in the frame of mind to dwell on it.  I'm with friends in a lovely place with (albeit momentary) shockingly good weather.  I'm gonna grab my party hat and noise maker and get out there and party like it's 2026.

(And pants.  I'm gonna grab pants.  It's not that kind of party.)

  

Time Zones Are Weird

There's "ship time" and there's "real time" and they aren't always the same thing.

Because, I mean, you can cross into a new time zone at any time of day or night, and the ship isn't gonna immediately flip the clocks back. So they sorta just plan the clock changes at night, when convenient, even if that puts you off from what the time "actually" is.

All of which is background for the fact that they told us sunrise was at 7:56 this morning, and when I bounced out of bed when my alarm went off at 7:55, it was pitch freakin' black out there. Sun didn't rise for another freakin' hour. But this was basically because sunrise for our location WAS at 7:56, but the ship hadn't changed the clocks to "real time" yet.

This is complicated by the time zones in this part of the world. We started in Malaga, Spain (in the sea), the jogged on around the Rock of Gibralter into the North Atlantic, and are now tooling down the coast of Morocco. Technically, we should've jumped into the light green colored time zone as soon as we entered the ocean, but actually, Morocco is on the same time Spain is, and (as we go further South) it's still on Spanish time (the beige one) even as it juts further West. (Meantime, we're headed for the Canary Islands. Which are still owned by Spain, so you could make an argument that they should be in the tan zone extension, too. Or, just based on location, put them in the blue zone. But they're in the green anyway, for ... reasons?)

Yeah, so it was dark until about 9 is what I'm saying.

I was less green today - much less pinballing - and I slept LONGER, although still not ENOUGH. I'm having trouble adapting to all the ship noises at night. I decided to crank up my White Noise app and - in a burst of creativity - I set it to the "Ocean Waves" setting. This was actually ideal; rather than hearing the hum of the engines and the creaking of the ship, I now hear waves crashing while my ship rocks me to sleep. I'm clearly not on a quiet sailing vessel, but I can pretend that I am!

We came in second in Trivia again - but it might have been to a different team, which keeps us competitive in the long run. The entertainment director also gave us homework for Extra Points. Each team is to write a funny poem about New Year's Resolutions. My little team of over-achievers ended up producing 3 different poems (we're forcing one of the ones who didn't write to choose which one to submit for judging). Anyway, I sat in this window, looking out over the ocean and waited for the rhymes to come.

And as I'm pretty sure none of my competitors are reading this blog, I'll share with y'all the product of my labors.

::: clearing throat dramatically :::

Should I resolve to take more cruises?

Or to drink a bit less boozes?

Stop obsessing over the newses?

Or buying more expensive shoeses?

Instead, I think I'll get some clueses.

Be the person that I chooses.

Shake off the sadness and the blueses.

Greet each morning after I snoozes.

Be kind to creatures - even the gooses.

Eat more healthy; drink all the juices.

Try veg and fruit, like the pamplemousses.

Love all the angles (acute and obtuses!)

Roll with the punches and the bruises.

Celebrate the wins; accept the loses.

With love to all and no excuses

Happy New Year to all of youses.

That's What Friends Are For

I discussed loo rolls falling off the holders today at breakfast. My friends agreed that it is a problem, and also thought mine was particularly bad due the downward angle. (Seems theirs were installed parallel to the floor.) At dinner, one of them surprised me with a present! She had MacGyvered up a little strap to go through the TP and keep it attached to the holder!

I can't wait to see what the cabin steward thinks when she sees it!

My other photos today is this. The floor. Specifically, this dark stripe in the pattern which I keep thinking is spilled coffee. I'm going to get myself so used to thinking, "it's not coffee, it's not coffee" that I'm going to walk right into it if someone actually spills coffee on the floor.

Not much else to report. I didn't get much sleep last night (still adjusting to the new sounds and the (literal) motion of the ocean. The exhaustion made me not as good as I should've been at our first day of multi-day trivia and our first Name That Tune competition. My friends had been talking me up as just being awesome at all of this, but my brain was very much not at its best. (We were still competitive in trivia and we won the Name That Tune anyway, but it was a squeaker. It was also TV Theme Song trivia and we may well have won because I was the only one in the room who watches "Doctor Who." We thank our Welsh Entertainment Director for throwing that one in there. I'm definitely going to aim for More Awake tomorrow.

(Also hoping to be less, er, green. I'm still "pinballing" down the corridors, but hopefully, without the nausea.)

(Honestly, that's all I've got for you today. I just didn't want to end on, you know, that word. Which I guess I'm still kind of ending on by calling attention to it. Flowers. Kitties. Crimson, Eleven, Delight, Petrichor.)

Tale of a Toilet Roll Holder

I am (as Pam Braun figured out) on an ocean-crossing cruise that just departed Malaga and will eventually dump me in Miami.

Pam knows this because she and I met on a Windstar cruise. A couple years ago, I met some other folks on a Windstar cruise crossing the Pacific. The ship holds over 200 people and there were less than 30 of us on the ship. The crossing was AMAZING, and we had a great time spending two weeks being greatly outnumbered by the crew. The folks I met on that cruise were planning on this one, and invited me to join.

This cruise held particular interest because it is the maiden voyage of a new Windstar ship. I'll admit a certain level of curiosity as to what Windstar was coming up with on its next generation of ships. What I had not counted on was the curiosity level of other folks. While that Pacific crossing was near empty, this ship is full. I'm told every cabin is occupied.

They did some testing and a short shakedown cruise (she floats!) but we're basically the Beta testers here. So, yeah, it took a stunning amount of time to actually get served dinner - it was the first time they've actually had to serve a full ship. I'm not COMPLAINING here -- good Lord, I'm on a freakin' CRUISE for crying out loud. More than that, I'm on vacation, enjoying conversation with nice people -- it isn't like there was someplace else we had to be for those two hours. But, still, I'm sure it got marked down in a book someplace as something they were going to work on.

Which brings us (finally) to the toilet roll holder. Cabins in other Windstar ships have a certain logic to them. And that logic is: make the best of use of space. There's storage EVERYWHERE. Folks on this cruise are (politely and quietly, but near unanimously) questioning the itty bitty closet space and insufficient hangers.

I'm going to go a bit further - and I'm doing it on my personal blog rather than the Facebook group for this cruise (because I feel like if I say anything negative about the ship, I'm going to get glared at by Windstar Groupies for the next two weeks.) But the fact is the space just isn't well thought-out. If I were to come up with an overall theme for the design of the cabins, it would be: Luxurious appearance, practicality be damned.

Observe the toilet roll holder. Simple, elegant.

Look again. Angled slightly downward. And at the downward edge...

That itty bitty little stopper supposed to keep the roll on the holder. Even though it is pointing downward. And on a moving ship. As soon as you pull on the sheet to get yourself some TP, it spins, jumps the stopper, and rolls across the bathroom floor.

Could've prevented this with a less sleek design. Or even angling it slightly upward. But the elegance of this design is going to result in everyone dropping their TP on the floor, likely more than once.

(I don't want to say this design philosophy permeates everything, but it does. The TV mounted with a lovely backlight, but the mounting prevents you from watching TV from the sofa. The bizarrely-designed shower with a hand-wand, a rainforest head, AND a body spray -- but there's no moving or angling the hand wand holder, so the shower is basically a dance where you're constantly adjusting among water coming at you from one side, the other side, or above. And don't get me started on the onboard spa facilities - housed on Deck 4, but you have to enter via a winding staircase on Deck 5. Because that makes sense.)

So, here I am on a LOVELY ship, with friends, a charming crew, and cabins that appear designed more for instagram than for actual human use. There is NO WAY I'm going to bitch about this or let it undermine my vacation in any way. But I am going to have a laugh about it every time I'm chasing my toilet roll across the floor.

24 Hours in Spain

I find myself in Malaga. Well, it isn't exactly surprising; I planned it. But I'm on my way to other things, and overnighting in Malaga was part of the plan. Doing damn near nothing here was less of a plan. There's a Picasso Museum that might be worth a look. But it's raining. Not grab-an-umbrella-and-suck-it-up rain, but phone-screaming-an-extreme-weather-alert raining. The alert itself is in Spanish, which is of limited use to me. (My phone is buzzing so annoyingly loud about it, I want to "accept" it off my screen before I think to screenshot it and run it through Google Translate. But I eventually hunt down the text - they're expecting 120 mm (4.75 inches) of rain over 12 hours. Add in the winds which were pushing me up the block (conveniently, I was headed that way anyway) and this is no time to explore. This is time to grab some food at the restaurant next to the hotel and hunker down. (Yeah, we all know my Spanish is not up to the challenge. As an Angeleno, I come here with the ability to count to 10, ask for another beer, seek out the library, and understand my soft taco options at that stand that used to be at the Music Center. Oh, and some swears. Hello, Google Translate.) So, my taxi driver (with very little English) and I (with un poquito Espanol) made it to my hotel in friendly silence. Once I settled in, I went for a walk around the block to get my bearings. Was pleased to pass a local comic book shop - didn't go in, but I felt like I knew where my nerds were. Spied a few places that were worth further exploration, but the winds really started kicking up on the third leg of the square and I decided to indefinitely postpone further exploration and instead slip into the highly-rated tapas fusion joint next to my hotel. It was mostly empty, but set up for two massive parties, so I got crammed in a tiny table in the corner. I'll be honest, I'd researched menus of nearby places earlier, and while it isn't exactly a traditional Spanish dish, I'd kind of been wanting the mushroom and duck breast risotto here. OMG, yes. Soooo tasty. But I also have a rule about stepping a smidge out of my comfort zone. Not TOO far, but I've got to try something a bit more localish. So, my risotto was on preceded by some chicharron de Cadiz, which was extremely flavorful and I sucked it down as though I'd actually intended what I'd ordered and hadn't just took a wild shot at the local pork thing. Had a hard time getting my bill and paying. I made all gone with my food and politely declined a coffee, but the bill - she didn't come. By this time, the massive parties had arrived and the wait staff was going crazy serving then both many plates of tasty goodies and the bartender was working double time too. I had put on my jacket, held my wallet in my hand, asked Google Translate how to ask for the bill (and had done a deep dive into Spanish tipping practices while waiting) and still couldn't catch anyone's attention to get la cuenta. Eventually, I managed eye contact with the bartender and successfully completed the transaction. Popped over to my hotel just as the rain started falling. My hotel is home to a little bakery/cafe, so I grabbed a tea and dessert for later, took it up to my room, and settled in to watch the one English-language channel while the storm raged.

Magic Kingdom Photo Dump

Disney wants an insane amount of money for my photos. 

There's "photopass photographers" all over the park, and they'll snap your picture, and it'll show up in the app (with all your ride photos) covered in watermarks, and you can download a Whole Day of Photos (watermarks removed) for the low, low price of $75. 

Or you can take that $75, have a lovely buffet dinner out of the crowds, and take all the pix you want with Pooh & Friends.

We were celebrating "Friendship Day!"  (It's Friendship Day every day.)

Eeyore figured I needed a hug.  (Or I figured Eeyore needed one.)

Tigger was just the best!

Piglet and I shared a giggle. 

They all came around a second time (to take pictures with more guests as they arrived), so I amused myself by trying to get pictures of all four of their butts.

You're welcome.

Art and Other Art

I started today at Trafalgar Square.  I was about 45 minutes early for what I was there for, so allowed myself a touristy selfie.

Note the lid.  And the blue sky.  Crisp weather today, but it wasn't trying to take me out. 

I was there for a Van Gogh exhibit at the National Gallery.  (I bought the accompanying Audio Tour. Which is just a link and you listen to it on your phone, with your own earbuds.  This, my friends, is a welcome innovation.)  Over 60 of his works - largely from Arles and the hospital at Saint-Remy.  You could totally see the development of his style as the exhibit progresses and the paintings venture more into expressionism.  Cool shit.  I didn't take many pictures because that's not my thing.  Also because I kept trying to capture some of his greens and my camera kept washing them out.  I for reals had an emotional reaction to this intense bluish green he had going, but the Pixel's camera couldn't capture it.  So I stared at it for a bit and let it wash over me and that's pretty much how I appreciated this art.

I did snap this one, though.  I mean, we know he did Sunflowers and Irises, but I hadn't known he painted roses!

I did a close-up because Look At It!  That paint is so thick it's damn near three-dimensional.

After I left the exhibit, I went back to Trafalgar Square because the Christmas Market was there.  And while I had been underwhelmed with the crafts for sale, I had my eye on the hot chocolate.  Which was dark and Belgian and covered in whipped cream (and more chocolate) and zero regrets. 

My evening activity was a show.  (I know, you're shocked.)  The Old Vic does an annual production of "A Christmas Carol."  I've never gone to it before, but this year, John Simm was playing Scrooge, and he's definitely a favorite of mine, so I was in. 

The whole nine yards, man.  They had seats on the stage and I got a front-row stage seat - it was a package deal complete with a programme and beverage.  In my case, a cup of mulled wine.  AND the production gives out mince pies before the show.  So I'm sipping my mulled wine and chomping on my mince pie and they're playing pre-show Christmas music and, yes, it isn't even Thanksgiving yet, but I got into the spirit. 

The adaptation is...  Look, I generally consider myself a bit of a Dickens purist.  (My tradition used to be seeing Patrick Stewart's one-man production where he starts with the book and doesn't stray too far from it.)  This particular adaptation was pretty loose-ish.  I could complain about lines from the original that I missed here, but, honestly, it was true to the spirit of Dickens if not the text, and it was presented with such heartfelt enthusiasm and holiday magic that I was all in. 

At the interval, I had to run to the bathroom (the mulled wine will do that to you) and left my programme on my seat.  Upon my return:  no programme.  It hadn't fallen behind or anything; damn thing had run away.  Nice folks next to me immediately gave me one of theirs.

Simm's performance was better in the second act than the first -- his Scroogey Scrooge had been pretty standard, but his Scrooge Who Kept Christmas Better Than Anyone was a portrait of unbridled joy.  And we all felt it and shared in it. 

When the show ended, I thanked my seat neighbors again for their programme.  We mutually gushed about the show for a bit, and they said they hoped I enjoyed the rest of my visit.  They wished me a Merry Christmas and I wished them one back.  And we meant it.

... And the blustery day

I have a cute wool hat.  It's nice and warm and I nearly wore it yesterday, but I'm glad I didn't as I would've been chasing it down the street within seconds.  (I put on a rain hat, with a little lanyard under my chin, to walk two blocks in the rain that evening.  It flew back and was just tied around my neck within the first block.)  Look, England is getting battered by this storm and what I'm getting in London is very much the least of it.  I'm not complaining; I'm just painting a picture.  And that picture is:  don't bother brushing your hair if you're going outside. 

I had little to do yesterday, although buying a pair of comfortable shoes that could step in puddles better than my current options was high on the list.  (Again, not complaining.  But between my wonky hip and my foot injury, I was limited in what I could safely pack to only two pairs of shoes:  soft flats that would fall apart in a puddle and boots that are a bit too loose and becoming a tripping hazard.)  So I found a likely shoe store and aimed toward it on the Underground.  Bought shoes.  Entered the Underground station to return to the hotel.

The platform was so full of people, it was backing up the stairs leading to the platform.  Someone behind me yelled to the folks on the platform, asking what the board said about when the next train was due.   The board was blank.  I decided to hoof it instead and backed my way out of the station (paying about $3 for the privilege - internet says that should be refunded within 7 days, so I'll postpone my outrage).  

Let's take a moment to talk about Suspicious Parcels That Need Blowing Up.  The day I arrived, there was one at Gatwick Airport and another outside the American Embassy.  Yesterday, it seems there was one at one of the underground stations a bit further up the line.  Delay explained, but WTF IS GOING ON WITH THE WORLD?  (Wait, don't tell me; I know this one.)

Walking around London, I heard a man explaining to his son what "Internet Cafes" were, and I've never felt so old.

Had afternoon tea at my current favorite tea joint:  the Grand Saloon at Theatre Royal Drury Lane.  Food is about an 8; but the location is just off the charts for theatre geeks.

Not many shows play in London on Sundays, so I took in "Back to the Future."  (Ticket had been purchased, like, a day before I'd learned the touring company was coming to L.A.)  Kind of glad I saw the original production here as the most noteable part was the lighting that covered the ceiling, the boxes, and the front part of the walls into the auditorium.  Yes, I know, a show isn't great if you come out humming the lights.  But it was fun and nostalgic (for us GenX'ers) and, while great new songs would've been a pleasant surprise, that's not really why anyone goes to see it.

Today promises to be cold but dry and not too windy.  Excitement!

Edited to add:  Normally, when I'm in a hotel someplace, I don't mind changing with the curtains open.  Some foreign stranger wants to amuse themselves with a free peek?  Have at it.  However, with the current view out of my window, I've chosen to be a bit more demure.

15, for the win

Yeah, the rest of yesterday was a continuous stream of me walking someplace in the cold and wet, and then going inside to warm up on the outside and inside. 

It was also "See Doctor Who Actors On Stage Day," with a matinee of "The Duchess (of Malfi)" starring Jodie Whittaker, followed up by "The Importance of Being Earnest," with Ncuti Gatwa as Algie.

I had real hopes for "The Duchess," largely based on how Whittaker had devastated me in "Broadchurch."  But this particular adaptation didn't ask for Beth Latimer levels of quiet despair.  Duchess starts with her circling the drain and it's only a matter of time before she well and fully realizes it's full of sewage.  I was more impressed by the dude playing Bosola (Jude Owulu), as he actually got to play some inner conflict (although the script gives him a real clunker of a line at the end - show, not tell, people).  Production was interrupted by a medical emergency in the audience, handled by all with complete professionalism.

And then I got rained on - walking around another place with lots of food and beverage stalls I didn't go to because of the rain.  Instead, I walked into a restaurant.  The guy at the desk gives me the, "can I help you?" face, and I just say, "I need food and a dry place to eat it."  Sometimes, being direct is best. 

That night was "Earnest," and, you know, if you're going to "gay up" a play, I'm pretty sure Oscar Wilde would give you posthumous permission to go crazy.  (And yet, they gave Lady Bracknell back to a woman - Sharon D. Clarke, who played it with the imperiousness of an African queen.)  But before the action even starts, a little prologue assures us that this is just Gatwa's playground, and gender is just another social construct we might as well poke fun at, too.  It's fresh and delicious (and the pacing drags considerably when he's off stage.  I nearly nodded off in the bits with Gwendolyn and Cecily; the Gwendolyn actress had a handle on an intelligence burning beneath her exterior, but the Cecily hadn't found it yet - making her a ridiculously unsuitable match for the incendiary brains of Gatwa's Algernon.)  I think it's still in previews and perhaps they'll fix the pacing before opening.  It'll come to NT Live and will likely make Gatwa more of a star than he already is.