Last week I experienced my first ever cruise. Hooray for cheap travel deals.

First, so as I don’t come off as a total and complete asshole, let’s start with the positives.

I mean, don’t get me wrong… I am extremely grateful to have had the opportunity of a travel-filled, work-free, 4 days.

But you know me, right? or if you don’t… well, there’s always something, because, if there wasn’t, then that wouldn’t be me in my finest form.

So, take it or leave it… whatever floats your boat <— wow, how’s that for cliche, huh?

Nice.  Anyhoo, right… positives:

a) Got to spend time with the mama.

b) Caught up on my reading.  It’s been a while, and it was nice to escape into fictional dysfunction.

c) Loved visiting the islands we stopped at: St. Lucia, Antigua, St. Kitts, San Juan.

d) Had the honour of borrowing a SLR Nikon digital camera with two superb lenses… which is something I’ve wanted for a very, very, long time.  It was  extremely difficult to return it to its rightful owner. The camera became a part of me on that trip… and… well, yes, I miss it.

e) Love the ocean. Loved being on the ocean.

f) As if I needed to state the obvious… no work, equals happy.

I suppose since I’m not much experienced with the term, ‘Fun Ship’, the Disney meets Vegas on water extravaganza was at first, ultimately overwhelming and surprising.  When they say “carnival” they really mean it.  Really.

It was literally as if the population of a small town, floated along, unaware of the rest of the world.

Over 3000+ passengers, excluding the crew.

Feeding time was definitely the most interesting and entertaining. Name your cuisine – it’s there.

In monstrous amounts. Literally.

Piles of it. Piles of it being shoveled onto the plates of pushy, obnoxious vultures passengers.

I mean, think about people.  It’s called ‘all-inclusive’ for a reason.  The food’s not going anywhere.  There’s enough to feed the entire boat, 3 times over.

No need to push.

No need to cut in line.

No need to shove someone aside to get to the eggs first.

There’s more.  Really. Piles, I tell you.


Another amazing thing about feeding time, is the inclination that people have with the buffet.  I have never, in my entire lifetime, seen so many people wolf down so much food.  Yes, the option is there… but, is it necessary to try and eat as much as humanly possible?  Some people literally filled plates with enough to feed a small army… and continued to return for more.  Wowzers.

Blows my mind.

Rules are a must on a ship like this.  I mean, obviously.  How else could you control such a large amount of people? Surprisingly, the bulk of the passengers followed them quite effectively.

I, on the other hand, not always so much.  I’m not too fond of rules, you see.  Rules are made to be broken.

What if I don’t want to eat at 6pm sharp?

What if I don’t want to sit at table 583 with two women that apparently don’t understand the concept of ‘friendly chit-chat’?

Orientation? What orientation?

Tell me to be back at 3.30pm or the ship will leave? I’ll be back at 4pm. Wait for me.

What if I don’t want to pack at 9pm the night before and leave the luggage outside of my room for you to pick up only for you to neglect to leave the tags and therefore also our disembarking zone number so that I have to stand in a line of 50 people waiting to talk to a service agent that can’t help me and all I want to know is when I can get off the damn boat?

Every few hours we were greeted with the overly caffeinated voice of ‘Squishy’, announcing one rule or another, or promoting whichever event was planned.  I wish I had a soundbite of his voice. He was definitely cruisin’ for a bruisin’…

<ding, ding, ding>


“Goooooood morning cruisers!!!! It’s your fave pal SQUISHY! Good, ya?! Hope you’re having a lovely day and just a reminder that…. (rule a, rule b, rule c, rule d, rule e, rule f, rule g, rule h)….. oh and…. <static> …… Ooops! Silly me… seems I’m not sure how to use this intercom-thing-a-mi-giggy. …. <Static>…. OOPS! okay… there we go… right.  So, RISE and SHINE cruisers… here’s what’s on for today…..”

I almost half expected Squishy to announce something to the effect of,

“Now remember, cruisers, one foot in front of the other.  Left… right… left… right….”

Mama and I had quite a laugh, while trying to avoid mass herds of people… everywhere.

And yes, I realize… cruise… boat… enclosed… people… what did I expect, right?

I know, I know.  But I believe the outcome would have been different if there were more like, 300 passengers, and less… spectacle.  We didn’t partake in much of the events or shows, although I did enjoy the piano bar… and the piano man… until he repeated the same set for the third time in the same night, and then, well, it got a little old.

I don’t know, I guess for me, I don’t need much to be entertained.  A little bit of dinner, a little bit of good company, a little bit of chit-chat, a little bit of live music, a little bit of wine, and a lot of nice scenery… meh… that’s enough for me.

The amount of options of things to do on this ship blew my mind.  Comedy night, magic show, trivia, casino, dance contests, spas, games, etc etc…  And ya, great for families.  I mean, brilliant idea… there’s no way the kids could be bored in that environment… well, unless the kid is like me, and I’m an oddity, so, well… right.  So really, thumbs up for that.

But you know, it’s interesting.  Here’s a however many day (we hopped on in the middle, thank god) Caribbean cruise.  You would think, maybe just a little, that maybe, just maybe…. some of the passengers might be interested in, oh, I don’t know, Caribbean culture?

I mean, on the rare occasion that I actually heard some Caribbean music on the boat (just once to be exact), I overheard about 3 people wishing they would, ‘turn that crap off’ and I assume, turn up the latest Rod Stewart’s Greatest Hits Album.  And also, although there was an endless amount of food, there was not a drop of Caribbean cuisine.

So, basically, you choose to travel to see new places and experience new things, so long as you are still traveling in America, the boat version.  Then only to get off the boat and shop at the exact same duty free shops you saw at the airport, and every other docking port.

I don’t know.  To each his own, I guess.  But my favourite part of the trip was wandering far, far, away from the port, getting lost in search for the bus station, talking to strangers, exploring historical sites, taking tons of pictures, and drinking beer illegally in a paper coffee cup on good Friday… but you know, that’s just me.



I’ve never had so many wrong number incidents like I’ve had here.


Sometimes I think people just close their eyes,

reach for the phone,

and hope for the best.

<Ring, ring>

Me: Hello?

Random: Ya, uh huh. I called you earlier, what happened?

Me: Huh?

Random: Haha. You playin games? Four o’clock.

Me: Whaa? Who is this?


Me: Hellloo?


Random: Who is this?

Me: Who is this?


Random: What? What do you mean? Who is THIS?

Me: Ha. Seriously. What do you mean, what do I mean? Who are you trying to reach?

Random: What? Who is this?

Me: Okay. Ha. What number are you trying to dial… on… the phone.


Me: Hello?

Random: <gives number>

Me: Hmm, no. Wrong number.

Random: What?

Me:  Wrong. Num-ber.

Random: Ohhhh wrong number? Really?

Me: Huh. Ya. Apparently,  really.

Random: Oh, so, so, so, so, so, so sorry dear!  Oh yeah, so sorry!  Really, dear. Yup. Sorry.

Me: Okay… ?

Random: Okay have a good evening. Really, dear.  Okay.

Me: You too… ?




Dear Silentorchestra,

Why, oh why, have you neglected me so?

Where have you been?

Are you hibernating?

Was it something I said?

What happened?

Are your fingers broken?

Is it writer’s block?


I believe I am entitled to an explanation at the very least,  Silentorchestra.




Dear Blog,

Yes, it seems I have been quite absent as of late.

First, please accept my sincerest apologies.

Blog, understand that sometimes these things happen… distractions.

Rather than listing a bunch of excuses, I’ll just say… here I am, back again.


I promise that I will not neglect you again.


Pinky swear.

Do you forgive me?



Dear Silentorchestra,

We’ll see.


I always say how I remember my dreams, and that mostly, they are batshit crazy.  So, let’s reflect on last night’s dream, shall we?

It started off in my elementary school gym (this is common), with a mix of current friends, old co-workers and people I haven’t seen since elementary school or high school (also common).

I walk into the gym and think,

Here I am again. Why do I keep dreaming this?’

I look over and see those old little benches.  I see a friend.  He doesn’t belong here. He cut his hair.  He looks funny.  He tells me to join their group.  I do.

I glance around the gym.  I remember how we used to do flips off the stage onto those oversized mats. I remember the back stage area, with that little room up top.  I remember the room they kept the balls in.  I remember the office that we used to steal stashes of candy and chips from.  I remember writing on the walls of change room.

I take a better look and notice some familiar faces.  Parents of old friends.  Teachers.  Old classmates.  Current friends.

I can’t make the connection.

A firefighter walks from the side of the gym with the weird playground that comes out of the wall.  He tells me we are going to have a competition, so be ready.

I ask what kind, but he disappears.

I sit back down beside Funny Haircut, and try to find out what’s happening.  He tells me to trust him.  So I sit.

It feels like hours….

Suddenly we are outdoors, no longer at the school.  We are in a strange forest.  There are people everywhere.  It’s foggy and the dew is making my feet wet.

There is a massive tree with a handmade ladder that reaches nearly to the clouds.  The ladder seems incredibly unsafe.

An older Italian man in a posh suit starts to climb.  It’s common knowledge that he’s a mafia boss, although I’ve never seen him before in my life.  I ask Funny Haircut what’s going on.  He pushes me towards the ladder and says it’s my turn.  I obey and start climbing.

Suddenly I’m at the top, and see all of the participants below, who now resemble ants.

I don’t know why I’m up there, so I start to climb down.  I’m pushed from an unknown person above, and begin to slide down the ladder.  The tongs break as I slide.

I’m not scared, because I’m not afraid of heights.  I continue to slide. My bare legs hit the leaves and branches on the way down.  They cut me in some places, but I don’t feel any pain….

I suddenly find myself in an open field, surrounded by trees.  I can’t see anyone, except for Funny Haircut.  He tells me this is the next part of the competition.  I think I’m doing pretty well and tell him to bring it on.

I stand there and wonder what is next.  I don’t see anyone.  I hear a buzz from far away.  It gradually gets closer.  I know that sound.  I think it sounds like….


I cover my face and lay face down in the grass.  They swarm up my shirt, into my hair, and down my jeans.  I wonder when it was I changed from shorts to jeans.  I can feel them all over me.  Every single one.  The sound is so loud.  I can’t stand it.  I move my hands from my face and plug my ears.

I wonder when the bees will leave.  I don’t move a muscle. I am terrified. I wonder if I’ll die.

I hear a distant voice.  I think it’s Funny Haircut telling me to get up.  I cautiously unplug my ears.

‘Get up.’

I obey, stand up, and most of the bees drop off of me.  They die as they drop.  I frantically fling off the left over bees, while hysterically crying.  They are in my hair.  They are in my shirt, and down my pants.  I get angry with Funny Haircut and ask him why he would do this to me.  He tells me it’s part of the competition.

I check my body and realize I have not been stung.  We walk out of the field, through the trees and onto the next event….

Suddenly I’m in my old neighbourhood, the one I grew up in.

Funny Haircut and I are coming around the bend of the street where some of my friends used to live.  We were all staying at one girl’s house.  I am nervous about going there, since I haven’t seen her since high school and we had a falling out of sorts.  There are a bunch of people out front on her driveway yelling, including her mother.  Her mother frightens me in the June Cleaver/Stepford wife kind of way.

We pass another friend’s house first, and consider going in there.  We stop to say hi to her dad as usual, even though I know he has passed away.  He tells me,

‘Have a nice day Cricket’

He knows I hate that nickname.

He hands me a piece of lunch meat.  Funny Haircut and I share it, and walk over to the commotion.

June Cleaver approaches me and tells me that I owe her big-time.  I tell her she’s crazy and walk up to her daughter.  She still wears her hair the same and sports the brightest red lipstick possible.  She smiles and I politely smile back, because I need a place to sleep.  We walk in the front door….

Suddenly I’m in a car with my mom.  We are driving along the coast road, and I see the waves increasing.  I think to myself as she drives,

I’ve had this dream before.  The waves will flow up onto the road.  We will pass weird people in costume.  Someone will stop for happy hour.’

I wonder if I can change it.

As we drive I see the waves reach the road.  We pass people in pilgrim costumes.  They look out of place.

My mom is no longer driving.  We are in a taxi.  He pulls over and stops for happy hour.  We all get out, and stare at the waves with a crowd of people.  I look and see the taxi driver sucking back a rum and coke.  He’s wearing a pale yellow shirt and laughing.

I wake up.

I check my body for bee stings.

There are none.

The domino effect


So, most of you probably don’t know this, because you mainly only know my cyberspace self.  I wear a necklace that sports a domino.  It was a gift from a friend and is pretty damn awesome if I must say so myself.  Well, I think it’s awesome and that’s really all that matters in the end.  Right.  So anyhoo, it’s 5-3 and has some symbolic meaning that involves numerology, which I won’t go into right now.  Mainly I wear it though, because I like dominoes, and I like things that are unique.

Obviously, since I’ve been here it’s been quite the conversation starter, as dominoes are a popular past time. The most entertaining and confusing conversations go a little some like this:

Random Gas Station attendant/supermarket cashier/person in line at the bank: Can eye have yuh domino?

Me: <laughs> No.

Random:  Why?

Me: Uh.. cuz it’s mine?

Random: <confused look, wonders why they can’t have stranger’s domino>

Me: <confused look, wonders why they think I’d give a stranger my domino>

Random: <awkward silence>

Me: <awkward silence>

Wearing this has also landed me in random domino games where I’ve rightly got my ass kicked.  My defense is that I know a different variation of the game, since there are so many, and I have a hard time keeping track of the new rules.

I need to warm up to that stuff, you know?

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Alrighty, Let it Blurt... it’s on.

Here are 10 things that I love and hate which begin with the letter ‘A’ (I took your advice on the Tao-ness of it all, and tried to alternate my loves and hates, but as you will soon find out, I failed in some spots).

But, first things first, you stole one of my words – anticipation – damn. I had a good one for that. But enough complaining, since that starts with ‘C’.

Ready? Set? Go…


1. Apples.

I love apples.  I love the crunchiness and sweetness of them.  I admire their versatility.  I’m pretty fond of them all by themselves, as juice, in a pie, or especially with cheese. I’ll take any variety I can get, although Granny Smith, Golden Delicious, MacIntosh  and Empire are my favourite.

2. Anxiety.

I have it, I hate it, it’s horrible.  I’ve had about a ten year relationship with anxiety, for reasons I won’t go into (that’s an entire post in itself), and have learned how to control it, to an extent.  I know exactly when an attack is coming on, and play a mind struggling game with myself to calm down.  Sometimes it’s effective, sometimes it’s not.  My only comfort is knowing that I’m not the only one.

3. Architecture.

I have a deep appreciation for architecture.  From a very young age, my dream was to be an architect.  My parents would collect random building and design magazines for me, which I would endlessly flip through for hours.  I drew pages upon pages of various house designs, complete with a variety of brick samples and window treatments.  I went through numerous pads of graph paper, and eventually designed an entire city.  My faux city included everything from gas stations, to silly street names, to garden designs,  to schools, to backyard pools. There was even a bridge that connected one side of the river (the burbs) to the other side (downtown).  I taped all of the pages together, and eventually it became too large to lay out in my living room.  Once I got to high school and was forced to partake in the ‘what do you want to be when you grow up’ lecture, I realized that math and physics were a much needed part of architecture.  I made an effort, especially with physics, and barely passed.  That was the exact point my dream went out the window, and the decision to become an eager onlooker took its place.  I made up for it by engulfing myself in the art history side of architecture, but to this day it is still one of my long lost dreams.

4. Assholes.

I had to do it.  I mean, how can I not if I’m using the letter ‘A’.  Hmmm. What to say about assholes?  And by assholes I’m referring to people that act like them, not the body part.  Well, I must say I don’t enjoy assholes, and can become quite frustrated and irritated with them.  But then at the same time I realize that I am also one myself at times, so therefore, this blurb is a contradiction, since I don’t hate myself.  Hmmm.

5. Argument.

I’m half and half on this one, which I suppose is fitting since it’s number five.  I love to argue, but in the debate sense of the word.  Sometimes I’ll take an opinion I don’t even agree with, to test my own knowledge or  just to hear see what kind of fuel the opposition has…. and I get bored and like to spice things up.  I don’t enjoy arguments that are intentionally or unintentionally hurtful.  These are not useful.

6. Amazement.

I love to be amazed.  It’s an incredible feeling, whether it be by a person, thing or event.

7. Aggressive.

I suppose there can be some advantages to being aggressive, but from my experience I’ve found that some people have a difficult time finding a happy medium between being overly aggressive and not aggressive enough.  It obviously depends on the situation, but I generally find aggressive behaviour a turn-off.

8. Apparently.

I love to use this word, mostly in its sarcastic sense, and find that I use it quite often.  Apparently.

9.  Apparitions.

Well, this is an interesting topic in itself.  I’m a pretty logical and rational person, so keeping that in mind, it would be sensible to conclude that I’m not one to believe in ghosts. My opinion of this was altered when I worked at a historical war site, where things happened that were completely unexplainable, while I was either alone, or in the company of others.  Things that were not just my eyes or coworkers, playing tricks on me.  Things I still can’t make sense of.  I’m still up in the air about this topic.

10. Art/artist

I am an artist, and love all things art related.  I try my best to appreciate all genres and works of art, although at times this can be challenging.  My artistic passion rests in drawing, painting, photography, writing and music.

11. Acquire.

Since I love to break the rules, and also love to acquire things… I’m acquiring an extra number on my list.  Ahhh, that felt good.  As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve pretty much acquired the majority of stuff that I own.  It’s not a materialistic thing for me as it’s rare that I acquire something with actual monetary value.  Most of it has personal meaning, and/or I really needed it – you know, like a couch or cooking utensils.

Yay! That was fun, and quite the entertaining time waster, for yours truly, the procrastination champion. Thanks 🙂

A plumbing experience

Yes that’s right ladies and gents… the procrastination champion is back in the building… er… back in cyberspace… whatever.  I have to keep up my gold medal status, you know, and/or the caffeine hasn’t completely hit my bloodstream yet, and/or I am currently lacking focus.

Anyhoo, Mr. Plumber just left after finally fixing the shower. Yay.  Now, I know what you’re thinking…

Oh. my. god. that girl hasn’t showered in a WEEK? Fucking gross.”

Well, no.  Mr. Plumber made a previous visit where he allowed the shower to run water, but only with the involvement of tools.  I was okay with that, really, but it’s nice to have a shower that doesn’t include a wrench, and the possibility of tendinitis after fiddling with rusty nails.

Some interesting facts about Mr. Plumber’s visit:

1) He took off his shoes… and socks.  I’m still deciding whether this is extremely courteous, or just plain nauseating.

2) He asked me for lubricant. I was quite taken aback with this one.  I laughed, and then asked what exactly he needed that for  (I’m sure there are a variety of plumber type jokes that could be inserted here).  But instead, he responded with the most obvious,

‘I need it to slide dis stick-part into de hole.’

I must admit, I was a little disappointed with the lack of creativity in his answer.

3) The last time Mr. Plumber made a visit he took note of all of the other various broken things around the house (the doorbell, the front light, the door itself…)

Last week:

Mr. P: Your doorbell doesn’t work, I had to knock.

Me: Ya, well, a lot of stuff doesn’t work here… let’s focus on the shower.  Need. Shower.


This week

Mr. P:  There’s something wrong with this door.

Me: Yes.

Mr.P: I can’t shut it properly.

Me: You have to really pull it.  Really. With all of your strength.

Mr.P: <tries but fails>

Me:  Here… <shows off my pipes and door pulling skills>

Mr. P:  Your doorbell doesn’t work.

Me: Yes, we established that last time.

Mr. P: I will look for a new one for you.

Me: Great! But it does work you know, you just have to stick your fingers between the two broken plastic parts.

Mr. P: Mmmm Hmmm.  In the socket where there are live wires?

Me: <realizes how idiotic my comment was>  Uh.. right.  A new one would be ideal.

4) He has managed to avoid the classic ‘plumber’s crack’ with a onesi overall type arrangement.  Plumbers around the world, take note.  This is brilliant. The last thing I want to see is hairy butt fat, flooding over some obviously undersized or oversized pants.