-The pull of land is getting stronger by the hour. I have done exceedingly well in avoiding the Internet on board—I’ve been online a whopping 550 minutes at sea since we set sail in February. I use about two minutes of my expensive package per day to download my email before signing off. But this week my fingers have been itching. Maybe just a peak at Instagram. Maybe one quick Google. All in all, I have spent $50 on wifi total whereas other castmates have spent a grand per month. I get it. I’d just rather go to Spain.
-Although I love Cozumel my want for reality overpowers my desire to have another beach adventure. I spent the morning in Starbucks, not even an authentic Mexican café, just a Starbucks, drinking an old familiar vanilla iced coffee and buying bus tickets for my next gig. I bought theatre tickets for three weeks from now because I will be back in an existence where there are more stage shows than an aerialist, a Motown jukebox musical, and a thrillusionist. I noodled around with gifts for the first time, as if I am going home to friends and family that soon. I knocked off my most bougie to-do item—eating fancy bon bons in the chocolatier shop.
-I waffled about what to do in Roatan. Café? Beach? I went back to my room after breakfast to wait for the all-clear flag to be posted for crew and then I woke up two hours later. Things are falling apart.
-I’m consuming a lot of outside art. I read Big Magic at the gym. Lemonade is my favorite Beyoncé album—far and away. I am so impressed, inspired, motivated. I listen in the shower, on deck chairs. I listen and am unable to pull away even though I meant to put it on as ambient noise. I catch myself staring at my phone as if the wonder will visually come through the speakers. I am averaging two episodes of Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt per day. All three creators have made work so them and so liked. They made things they wanted to see, and we want to see them too.
-Friday I laid in a hammock in the actual ocean, ate octopus tacos, and sat inside a straw hut to get Internet. I thought a lot about my future. I couldn’t stop. I ate stress cake. I went to the library to journal and felt dizzy. The future. The future. The future. I passed out in my bed for two hours and woke up just in time to do a family friendly short form improv show. What life is this?
-Being alone is a true joy of working on a cruise ship. It never feels strange to be alone. You can’t be bothered to ask for accompaniment everywhere. You don’t want it. You have five friends. You will be sick of them. Sometimes you have fun together, and sometimes you don’t make a plan for the following day and you can’t text them, and they didn’t pick up their room phone, so you just go to Belize alone. You eat lunch alone. You take a cab alone.
-In the adult show Folds made us a play a game where we act out a scene in the style of Tennessee Williams and have to kiss each other after every line. Also, I played an ex-wife who followed her husband up Everest and blackmailed him for killing a Sherpa…and sang about it. Nail polish emoji. Mic drop.
|Me in Costa Maya. Ahh.|