Wednesday, July 2, 2008

A bachelorette cruise holds many lessons.



As we made our way off our Royal Caribbean cruise ship, I vouched two things:
1) to never listen to Alan again about cruise ship demographics
2) to never get married


Before setting out to sea, Alan would say things like "have fun with all the old people," which led me to believe that the bachelorette cruise I was headed for was going to be laden with restful activities good for the soul -- like sunbathing poolside, drinking apple juice or Metamucil-infused cocktails and maybe some time spent at the blackjack tables. Turns out our cruise ship was actually a ship from back in time and it carried loads and loads of bleach blond, pushed-up, cleavage-revealing cougars who were once the women of Girls Gone Wild glory (or something like that).

And from our current dock location, young men in their twenties boarded. Young men with girlfriends, wives, babies, a year left in college, you name it. But there was something about the escargot served at dinner or the allure of the late-night pizza bar that caused age lines to blur and cougars and young lads to connect at the face, in a fierce and most fascinating session of making out.

This was no cruise ship for oldies.

And this was also no big matter to me, who should be making out with whom. Older, pushed-up cleavage was still cleavage to be had --so rock on cougars and boys with braces! But all other boundary lines also seemed to blur on the cruise ship. Had we been tricked onto a filming of the seedy Fox show Temptation Island???

Alas, sadly I cannot further detail the rampant reality-tv show-like shenanigans that happened as my shirt duly notes "what happens at the bachelorette party stays at the bachelorette party."


Can you tell which one is the bride-to-be? (Don't let the floss deceive you.)

Temptation Island at Sea

It was a big boat.

The start of shenanigans.

Here, Nat and I take time out to re-enact the Titanic scene. Sometimes I think it's hard for Denise to come to terms with the fact that she's related to us. You've heard of balloon animals, but have you heard of towel animals?

Our daily nightcap somehow always turned into heavy flannel pj's (the footed variety) wearing not just a nightcap but socks, gloves and a deep blue velvet robe.

Notice how Denise is the only one with her sunglasses on, as if she's Lucy Liu incognito? At night we would flank her as she walked to dinner or to the bar and stop people when they came up to her. We would hold up a hand and say things like, "Ms. Liu is not signing autographs tonight." (OK, so we didn't really do this. But I wanted to.)

Do you see the resemblance?

And here is a picture of part of the Conga line I started.

2 comments:

steve said...

I just happened upon your blog after following a google for the word "yearbook." I don't know a thing about you, but you're such a charming writer I made you my first-ever blog link thingie.

sobrina said...

Thank you for the kind words! I always hoped to have people make me their first blog link thingies :)

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