-A new Mexican restaurant opened on board and passengers
can’t make reservations yet, so we decided to go as a cast. Tail was in a
particularly good mood and pushed for all the apps, two desserts, mahi tacos
for all! I even treated myself to a lime soda because real non-mass produced
food tasted so so divine. I will not miss a single dish on this cruise ship.
I’m grateful. I have matured here. I am no longer a person who is even remotely
enticed by the concept of “all you can eat dessert.”
-Our first day in port, MB and I got a hookup from a friend
of a friend to take a glass bottom boat tour in the Bermuda Triangle followed
by a snorkel sesh. I saw turtles poking their heads up, long brown creatures, lots
of reef (my favorite was brain coral), and a big mama fish that was probably no
less than half my size. We were famished when we got back to the ship, ate our
faces off at the diner, and then snuggled up for The Bachelorette. RIP Wells.
-I’ve been into night writing in the library. Feeling
jazzed, putting the pedal to the metal.
-Staff enrichment threw a crew party on the helipad! It was
so fun. I went around midnight and everyone was there dancing and mingling. The
beats were typical “everybody dance” jams, and everybody did! The galley
workers, the room stewards, the spa staff. I kicked my legs with an engineer
and grooved with the South Africans. Plus, anytime I looked up—stars. Looked
out—the ocean zooming past. Pretty rad. On land a party like this (with free
booze nonetheless) could easily be billed for $100 per person, but it was
complimentary, and, like all things, a six minute walk from my house.
-Monday was super duper hot, so a few of us went to the
Bermuda museum. I actually learned a lot, and the grounds were nothing to cough
at—big ol’ mansion, rolling meadow lawn, a dolphin pool. The usual. There was a
gigantic mural by a local artist who painted in deep colors—anti the “pastel
syndrome” he believes his home to be afflicted with. The quote on display was,
“Part of my sanity was left in that room.” I relate. I hadn’t brought water and
bust out on a hunt, but before I got to the pharmacy, I saw a snow cone tent
and bought one of those instead. Not smart, but, yes, refreshing.
-Our final day in port MB and I caught the bus to Horseshoe
Bay, also know as THE pink sand beach in Bermuda. I bought a ginger beer, hiked
up an overlook at the beach corner, and then got in the water. Best. Beach.
Ever. Period. There’s no contest. The salt water is JUST chilly enough to be
refreshing, but warm enough to slide right in. There are no rocks, the sand is
ultra soft, and the waves were perfectly balanced, strong and gentle. I let
them push me to shore and laid there, belly down in the sand. It started to rain,
and in the grey I really saw the pink hue shine. We went back to the boat
because it was show night. A good one, a solid one. Folds accidentally dropped
an F bomb in the 7 PM during the improv section. I wonder if any kids will
remember. MB and I were judging the dance battle. A goofy high schooler with
secret moves won. The little side jobs we have to do often seem like an
inconvenience, but I always enjoy myself. We dance and prance around the
lounge, around the ship, down to crew bar to chat and hang. I’m very into
ginger beer now. Three this week. If I’m really gutsy I ask for a cherry or
lime too.
-First sea day back is gym, breakfast, rehearsal. Tension
with a castmate. This experience is very difficult sometimes. MB has reminded
me that if I were on a team with any of these people in Chicago, there wouldn’t
be time to find what really gets under our skin. But here all we have is time
to think about why other people suck. Instead of doing that I write, enjoy some
banana bread, get my head scratched by a friend, show up happy for the family
show. I text Puhg for the rest of the night. I almost forget the distance. I
listen to my acoustic playlist and walk a mile around the deck. Passengers
recognize me as give me compliments, so I put my hood up.
-The cruise ends with me, three castmates, and two castaways
(a dancer and HR) sitting in my cabin talking about first kisses and toots on
airplanes. It’s three AM, and I call it. In the morning I have brunch with Bex.
She is two years younger than me but her life is settling into a more
stereotypical version of adulthood at rapid speed. For all the set-backs of
being a professional actor, the weird schedule, and missing weddings, and the
unstable paychecks--I’ll take it all for not only Doing the Dream but doing it
with nights like Thursday regularly occurring. We have our whole lives to be
steady.
