California or Bust!

It’s official! I got my itinerary! I leave Honolulu, on United Airlines, Saturday, August 28th 12:45 p.m. I’ve been so excited, I can’t sleep more than two hours a night. My bags have been packed for weeks, but I’ve unpacked and repacked a dozen times.

Today, I’ll have to go through the tedious process of extracting myself from the vessel; filling out forms, obtaining signatures (sigh). My fellow crew members have shocked me with their heartfelt good byes and well wishes, it’s going to be harder than I thought to leave.

I’m glad I pursued this venture, but have NO desire to repeat it. I’ve met some admirable people, learned a lot, and had a few good chuckles, but I’m more than ready to go home!

I’m a little saddened that I’ve got to end my blogging. I kinda like spewing my thoughts into cyberspace. Many thanks to all of you shared my agonies and replied in kind. I’ll see you when I see you - take care!

Lava Shmava

Every Tuesday night (9:45p.m. - yawn) the ship cruises by a live lava flow. Creating the island Liehe. Passengers flock to the see this spectacular natural event. My roommate Dawn, badgers me to go see the beautiful formation of a new island and how gorgeous it all is blah, blah, blah . . .Oh all right, I’ll go!

I haul my saggy-draggy, tired ass up from deck 2 to deck 12, elbow my way through the crowds, and gaze out into the inky night to get a gander at the lava. I see, a bunch of really bright orange lights and tons of smoke. Dawn explains the “orange” is the actual lava and the “smoke” is steam from the lava flowing into the ocean.

oh

Okay, here’s the third thing I know for sure, I’m not a nature lover. I appreciate it, and admit it’s nice and all, but I don’t want to be sleep deprived to take a peek at it!

G‘night!

Aloha Week

A dear friend suggested I take pictures of the islands this week as I say good bye. While a great idea, I don’t actually get to see these islands. One island in particular, Hilo, I’ve never set foot on. I’ve seen a huge rusted building from deck 6, because that is our fire drill day and my muster station faces that side of the dock. But that’s all I’ve seen of Hilo.

Working in Hawaii, on a cruise ship sounds really glamorous. Now, let’s focus on the key word in that sentence ‘working’. There is no sightseeing, relaxation, or culture absorption. You WORK - period. I hear stories about some crew members being able to go to off shore excursions, which are offered to crew at an extreme discount, but these excursions are always offered during my work hours.

NCL does make an effort to have night time excursions for those who can’t make the daytime events. Twice now they’ve offered the same event, bowling and pizza. No thank you, I’m too clumsy to bowl and make pizzas all day long, everyday.

My new work schedule technically allows me 90 minutes to get off the ship in the mornings. Usually more like 74 minutes depending on if the gangplank is ready or if I have to wait for the passengers to disembark first.

The ship docks into a pier which is MILES from anything remotely touristy. I see many 18 wheelers, parking lots and highways. If I walk for about a 1/2 mile I can get to a strip mall. My precious 74 morning minutes are spent trying to get some fresh air in my lungs and natural Vitamin D on my skin, frantically check emails/blog and a tiny workout.

Once, I asked to switch schedules with a co-worker so I could have a Spa Day in Kona. After explaining what a Spa Day was to my supervisor, approval had to be sought through the Executive Chef. After approval, I worked the 3:30 a.m. - 12:30 p.m. shift, dashed to the cabin to shower and change, then wait in the hallway, until crew were allowed to finally board the tender (small boat) to Kona. I was 20 minutes late for my 1:00 p.m. appointment. The appointment takes an hour and then I immediately reboard the tender, back to the ship. Crew have to be on board 1 hour before the ship sails, otherwise you get a free ticket to a Warning Session. The ship sails from Kona at 4:00 p.m. Passengers are already lined up for the tenders at 2:30 p.m.. Passengers are first, if the tender is full I have to wait for the next available. This is a panicky dicey situation and I hate it.

Most evenings after work, I eat dinner, shower and read a book or watch a rented movie. The overnight evenings (Sun/Thurs) I’ll go out to a movie (Sunday) or go out to dinner (Thursday).

Anyhow, I did take pictures of what I see of the islands. I’ll share them with you, this should be mildly entertaining.

Physiognomy

I can’t pronounce this word (physiognomy) to save my life and I hope I’m using it correctly, as it accurately describes what I want to blog. The of metamorphosis of a person’s facial features as they navigate their way through a 5 month contract. Especially their first contract. It’s the “look” of someone’s face that tells you exactly their stage of metamorphosis.

PUPPY FACE: The first week on board every one is bright-eyed, smiling faces, chatty, and full of eager expectations. After the rigorous training, you are finally given a position, complete with uniform and schedule. The look of relief is palpable. You can’t wait to get in the middle of it all, be productive and fit in!

DEER IN THE HEADLIGHTS: Somewhere between week two and four, it dawns on you, management is dangerously disorganized. Management’s attempts to hide the fact, result in constant condescension, threatened with write ups, taunted with “Warning Sessions”, generally keeping you in fear of losing the minuscule privileges you actually have.

Crew members act out or cope by indulging in excessive smoking, alcohol abuse and sex. Sex has many different forms, i.e., nonstop flirtations, sexual innuendoes, vulgarity and random copulating with anyone that stands still longer than 3 seconds.

Those eager puppy eyes have now been exchanged for vacant eye sockets. Their bodies “play act” by going through the motions to maintain some semblance of normalcy. This is unnerving and very disheartening to witness. Typically this is when the majority of people get fired due to over indulgences.

Deer in the Headlights stage lasts the longest until you’ve reached the 45 days to disembarkation. Then you morph again.

ZOMBIE: The acting out or “coping stage” has a vicious back lash. The everyday work day tedium, management’s bullying and overindulgences have literally pummeled the body senseless. Faces have taken on a grey pallor, eyes sunken and your gait is a 29 forward pitch at a rapid clip. My guess is the leaning and fast walking is your meager attempt to move the calendar forward. You’re on auto-pilot. Your auto-pilot has auto-pilot!

You’ve reached a level of deprivation, so deep you couldn’t find your nose if it was bright-red with a bell on it! Your body is crying out in agony. Constant headaches, nonstop cold symptoms, wierd rashes, feet and legs in searing pain. OUCH! You hurt!

Then you have the disheveled, disoriented, confused, “I’m rapidly spiraling out of control” moments. Jay said to me the other day, “Hi Lisa, mattress subtract cauliflower could possibly porcupine.” He had miss-buttoned his shirt, and in his shirt pocket I spied an unwrapped folded peanut butter and jelly sandwich! He wasn’t drunk or high just flat out exhausted. He was leaving in 23 days.

Next you start handing out verbal abuse, like it’s candy to Trick-a-Treaters. Yours truly has succumbed to the verbal abuse. She bellowed herself hoarse, for her co-worker to kiss her derriere! This statement was received with stunned and shocked faces. Fortunately, co-worker didn’t feed into my tantrum, he ignored me. Others have not been so lucky. I’ve seen people howling profanity into trash cans, swinging fists of fury into the thin air around them, wildly kicking a plastic straw, wrestling with crew members over a bottle of ketchup.

We’re a mess.

Name

Heaven knows I’m riddled with enough eccentricities, I should take medication from a PEZ dispenser and warrant a tailor made straitjacket. But, I’m just saying, name your precious child something that won’t invite rocks being hurled at them on the playground.

Granted, Lisa, is as dishwater as a name can get. So I have NO business pointing a finger and mocking someone’s name. What can I say? It was the 60’s, my African-American parents were desperately trying to assimilate, and the daytime soap opera “The Edge of Night” was mainstream.

Since I’m not a parent, I can’ t speak from experience, but I would guess serious thought is given to what you’d name your child. As said name will FOREVER be attached to your precious child. I realize, parents want their child to stand out from the rest and be original, but shouldn’t 98.5% of that be reflected in their personality not their name?

On board, I’ve come across a few humdingers. If given the opportunity I think the parents ought to be slapped twice. If you come from a different country, I expect your name to be a tongue twister and will do my very best to pronounce it correctly and not give you some silly ass nickname. But born and raised in the USA, uh, well . . .

Three dudes on board have begged us just to call them Q. As their first names are so unpronounceable and are too long to fit onto the name badges we have to wear. Shaquetta, Kwanza, Komika, Chajawana, and Sunshine . . . my eyes have rolled into the back of my skull.

Then we the alias. Their first names bore them so they go by their middle names

Thomas now Grant

Robert now Tyler

Richard now Dylan

Can you blame them?

Okay, I have to let this topic go. As I feel petty for bringing it up, but I couldn’t keep silent either. Where'd I put that PEZ dispenser?

Singing in Crew Mess

I have a deep attachment to music. I ALWAYS have a song running through my head. In times past, I’ve been known to break out in song, especially while working. For whatever reason, I NEVER make a peep in this kitchen. In fact, when people stroll through our kitchen, comments are made at how quiet we are. We all just stare mutely at the person and keep whizzing away at our tasks.

Lately, we are all really, really tired and several of us are leaving very soon. One day, I guess to break the droning fatigue, Mikey, starts singing the theme song to “The Jefferson’s”!? Then Chris chimes in with the next verse, I take off with the next and we all chime in together - it’s weird, but fun at the same time! We’re singing LOUD, flailing our arms, snapping fingers, and doing little jigs at our separate stations.

Then a fourth voice chimes in. I’m not paying it any attention, still doing a little shuffle in front of the fryer, singing. Mikey stopped singing and is furiously slinging bok choy onto the grill. That’s okay, Chris and I have got it, were leading up to “We finally get a piece of the pie”. Then Chris stops singing, and is grinning at me like its Christmas. I grin back and keep singing thinking he’s probably digging my vocals!!

The fourth voice ducks his globelike dome around Chris, looking at me and warbles out SUPER LOUD “We’re movin’ on up!” I stopped singing and gawk, it’s Mr. Aloha, Staff Capt. Ron!

As Capt. Ron zips out of the kitchen, I turn to the guys and ask, “How does HE know that song? That TV show was decades before he was born.” While Capt. Ron is an imposing figure, if he’s over the age of 35, I’ll eat my clodhopper shoes.

Minutes later Capt. Ron comes back to the kitchen to tell me he watched that show as a kid growing up. I asked him if he saw it on Nickelodeon. He said no, when it was originally broadcast. I found this incredulous. So I boldly asked, “How old are you?” He said, “41.”

Okay, he’s old enough. I ate clodhopper shoe for lunch that day.

Countdown!!

The countdown has begun in earnest. I’m leaving 8/28. I’ve checked the calendar 8,945,752,303,167 times to make sure the date really exists and it’s not August Fool’s Day, or Leap Year Day or some such nonsense.

Of the 17 people who started the same day as I, seven remain. Whenever, we see each other, we scream excitedly, high-five and shout how many hours/days to go! These exchanges leave me weak and faint. All have gone to HR to check their itineraries for their flights home. I can’t, yet. The overwhelming excitement and anticipation literally makes my palms sweat, heart race, vision blur and sphincter tighten. It’s very, very hard for me to stay focused on the day-to-day “normalcies” when I’m so amped up about going home. To give you an example, lately, ANY open door I see, cabin door, closet door, refrigerator door, bathroom door, a large trunk on its end - open, I immediately assume its an exit and I dart for it!! I’m THAT eager to get home!!

Your last week is referred to as your “Aloha Week”. My Aloha Week begins 8/22. My boss doesn’t know it yet, but he’ll be seeing the back of my head the majority of that week! Especially on Kona Wednesday! I adore Kona! There are so many people/things to say good bye to! My Kona swims, my treasured breakfast spot, my favorite waiter, the Basket Weaver, the locals who swim same time as I do, the “Bobbers”, my favorite esthetician. I’m REALLY gonna miss Kona, it’s a mega cool spot!

ALOHA!!

Chivalry is Dead

I don’t know where I got this silly notion, men open doors for a woman, allow her to go first through passage ways, or in general defer to a woman. Maybe it’s because that’s the treatment I’ve received all my natural life, until I got here!!

I’ve been trampled, elbowed, kneed, body slammed, shoved aside, and had doors slammed in my face!! I can’t believe it!! These dudes have ZERO manners. I look around at the other women on this ship and they seem to take the trampling, elbowing, etc., all in stride. C’mon girls, really? Are you okay with being treated this way?

Recently, I overheard one sous chef talking to another sous chef, about a cute, young Asst. Cook. The sous chef had asked the other if he had “waxed that, yet”. I’m pretty sure dude was asking if he’d had sex with her yet. Eeeewwww!!

That conversation, suddenly made things crystal clear to me why I’m daily reminding these guys to call me by my real name, why the men in authority on this vessel feel within their rights, to talk to me like I’m their hated ex-wife.

These men/boys have NO RESPECT for women or at the very least an extremely low opinion of women.

LAMB!

One thing, I will unabashedly admit to is, I’m a FOOL for lamb. I’ve been told I sometimes bleat in my sleep, “L-a-a-a-amb!” I can’t get enough of it! I crave lamb morning, noon and night. Which brings me to my real story . . .

Working in Crew Mess, I have more access to lamb, than a woman of my voracious appetite ought to have. Lamb loins, lamb roasts, racks of lamb show up daily, discards from other kitchens! I pounce on it like a rabid wolf. The few times I’ve gone to the ship’s restaurants (Lazy J Steakhouse & Jefferson’s Bistro), I of course, order lamb. I can order as much as I want for the same price - it’s CHEAP! and screamingly DELICIOUS!!!

This is one tiny perk I will sorely miss.

Two Things I Know for Sure

#1. I despise ALL Asian/Southeast Asian foods. And please don’t try to disguise it by calling it Thai, Japanese, Filipino, Vietnamese, Korean or Chinese. It’s ALL basically the same, tiny bits of meat, swirled around in a soy sauce base, surrounded by vegetables, perched on rice. I LOATHE IT!!! I used to occasionally dabble at eating beef & broccoli. Not anymore, especially after working in a kitchen where EVERYDAY, EVERY MEAL something has to be prepared that is Asian in some form, makes me nauseous!! It’s killing me!!!!!

#2. If you work on this cruise ship and are a size medium its mandatory to be under 5’4”. Now that I’ve shrunk some in girth I’m wearing a medium (men's) size uniform. As a result, the hems of my pants whiffle at mid-calf, arm cuffs flap around my elbows. I look like a retarded orphan in my filthy uniform! The Executive Sous Chef asked me if I could pull my pants down some to hide my non-regulation socks. I said, “Sure! You’d rather see my panties?”

To top it off, we just got word today, via PA chats from The Bridge, its a good idea to greet one another saying, “Aloha” as it promotes the “Aloha spirit.”

WHAT?!!

It’s not enough that I gotta wear this doll size, filthy, monkey costume, complete with paper hat, American flag neckerchief, name tag, S.T.Y.L.E. pen, thermometer, alcohol swabs, pad, pen and clod hopper shoes - Now I gotta bellow “Aloha” to the same 856 crewmembers I see every day, all day?!

That’s just great.

Aloha!

C'mon, Really?

About 3 weeks ago Dawn and I landed a new roommate, Mabry. God bless her, she’s a recovering methamphetamine addict, but one habit she can’t quite kick is nicotine. As is with all things surrounding NCL, there is a strict no smoking policy, mostly everywhere, but especially in the cabins! One day after work, I walk into the cabin and immediately smell smoke. Mabry steps out of the bathroom, and smoke is billowing around her! I can barely make out her features the smoke is so thick!

So I ask her, “Were you smoking in there?”

Mabry: “Oh, noooo.”

Me: “Did you light a match?”

Mabry: “No, I was cleaning the bathroom.”

Me: “Mabry, that’s cigarette smoke I see/smell.”

Mabry: “Let me check.” She then proceeds to walk in the miniscule bathroom flooded with smoke and sniff the air and proclaim, “I don’t smell anything. I promise you, I wasn’t smoking in there.”

She caught me on a slow reflex day, cause I should have called the bridge to report a fire in cabin #2215, that’s what we’ve been trained to do! Instead, I gave her the stink eye and went on about my business. The next day, I did have a discussion with Security, and Security must have said something to her, because now she’s giving me the silent treatment - like I care - one less liar I have to talk to . . .

On another note -

My new boss, Chris, tells me Friday, “We’re getting complaints that there aren’t enough proteins on the line at late night (11:30 pm- 1am), so we’re gonna have to change your work hours from 9:30am - 6pm to 10am - 6pm, with a 1/2 lunch.”

What my work hours have to do with enough food being on the line at late night, I don’t know or care and nor did I ask! It means I now have more time in the morning to swim on Kona Wednesdays! YIPPEEE!!!

My boss also shared with me, his hopes for world peace. I’ll pass this bit of information on to you, so you can better understand what brand of foolishness I’m dealing with.

His hope for world peace is for a hookah so large that only God could light it and everyone smoke from it once a week, to mellow everyone out. He said this with such conviction and optimism, I didn’t have the heart to tell him he’s a fucking idiot. Instead I asked, “What’s a hookah?” - NO, I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT IT WAS!!

I guess now would also be a good time to divulge the fact my boss also had a lengthy, heated discussion, with one of the servers, as to which super hero had special powers on their birthday . . . I’m not kidding.

27 days til I’m gone from this looney bin.

Lover's Spat

One day, skipping to work, I hear Tara, a 98 lbs. Texan screeching to a hastily retreating young man, "You're as stupid as a dirt sandwich!"

Now maybe it was the delivery in her country twang or as a chef, how ridiculous a dirt sandwich would be, but I literally laughed for 36 hours straight!

Miss Tara is my hero! I will now forever use that line - it slays me!!!

Change of Guards

My good friend, Capt. Buz is gone, along with F&B Dir. and Mr. Staff Capt. We now have a new troupe - Capt. Nesham (sp?) F&B Dir, Lazy Eyed Jay and Staff Capt. Ron.

Staff Capt. Ron has an irritating habit of bellowing "Aloha" when he sees me. This particular "Aloha" has many, many voice inflections that I don't understand, nor like. Since I don't know who this fool is, and only see a white shirt with a million gold stripes, I look at him oddly and say "Hello".

Last week I had passenger access (PAX) and went to see a show. After the show I'm high tailin' it to Pink's Champagne Bar to see the piano player. I'm elbow to elbow with passengers, navigating my way when this globe of a head pops out of nowhere and utters "Aloha!" Oh ya, its Staff Capt. Ron - again. I leap back 3 feet and squeak out "hi".

Somehow his "Aloha" made me want to take a shower and and don a nun's habit, and maybe call the police . . .

Name Calling

There is this young woman who works in “Utility”. She washes the stacks of dirty dishes/cups, 10+ hours a day! - bless her heart. One day she looks at me and says you look like my mother. She proceeded to show me a picture of her mother, and we do resemble each other somewhat. As a result, she now calls me “Auntie”. I thought how nice it was she thought of me as kinfolk. Since that day, there is a group of 20 Somethings who call me “Auntie”. I’m just rollin’ with it. I consider it as high praise and a demonstration of respect.

There is one young man in particular, though has NEVER called me Auntie, yet I had the rare privilege of standing as his Auntie. His mother died of a sudden heart attack, Friday. So I helped this dynamic, bright, fun loving, young man cope with his tragic grief by helping him with arrangements, packing his bags, and signing off the ship.

There is another woman who works on the ship and everytime I see her I swear I’m looking at myself in 15 years! We look that much alike. All staff have commented to either one of us about our “Twin”. So now we call each other “Sister Twin”. I like her immensely.

Then there is the Hawaiian/Korean/Filipino group that call me “Sister”. Not sure when this started, but I realize I’m just answering to it like I would my own name. It’s nice.

Wine Tasting!

I just discovered every Tuesday at 11 p.m. (crazy late for me) there is a Wine Tasting event for crew members!! You don’t have to request Pax Access in advance, and you don’t have to get permission from your supervisor. You almost feel like a free normal person.

The sommelier is very knowledgeable and thoroughly enjoys introducing us to the wine experience. For $10 we’re given 4 flights. Each week we’ve sampled a different wine: Sauvignon Blanc, Shiraz/Sarah and Sparkling Wines.

It is a lot of fun!!

Okay, there is a one major drawback. We HAVE to come in FULL uniform. That means for me I have to wear my chef’s coat and pants, neckerchief, name badge, S.T.Y.L.E. pin, thermometer, alcohol swabs, ink pen, notepad and black non-skid clodhopper shoes. I am cut a little slack, I don’t have to wear the silly paper hat!!

You’ve just read my laundry quandary, so you can only imagine I must look like a homeless person attending this thing.

More Laundry Issues

As a crew member of the galley, the window of opportunity I have to drop off 2 of my 3 filthy uniforms is on Tues/Thurs/Sun from 15:00-19:00 hrs. Now, I work from 9:30 to 18:00, theoretically, I have an hour to drop off my uniform before Laundry closes.

But there is this tricky little hiccup called “RED ZONE” and “DEPARTURES”. Red Zone times are random frequent times that the fire screen doors are closed and you cannot pass through certain areas until the doors are reopened by the Bridge, ( a.k.a. the Captain). Departures is when the fire screen doors are closed and you also cannot pass through certain areas until the doors are reopened by the Bridge.

The Laundry Room is sealed behind these fire screen doors.

Red Zone is always at 18:00.

Departure is always at 18:00.

Laundry Room staff disappear at 18:00-19:00.

My uniforms are so filthy, not only can they stand up on their own, they're doin' a little jig . . .

Laundry

The crew laundromats, while technically are free, are generating a shopping spree I wasn’t counting on!! All my clothes go into the machine one color come out another! The ship uses “recycled” water that leaves everything kinda dinghy, drab and somehow irreversibly misshapen!! So I had to trash several items, and buy new.

Buying new was a new experience . . .

Typically I shop at Barnum & Bailey and grab the medium size circus tent in my favorite color and call it a day! I tried that this time around, and they seem a little roomier than I remember, but hey, I haven’t got time to diddle, I’ve been wearing medium size circus tent for years! This is MY SIZE!! So I bought a bunch of items and marched confidently out the door.

Weeks go by, and its bugging me that my new medium size circus tents are swimming on me. So I worked up the nerve to go to a regular store, and try on Maternity stretch wear! These actually fit!! Without severely restricting blood flow and oxygen!!

So I guess, there is something to be said for diet and exercise. You work everyday 8+ hours a day, and when you have the time, wolf down a bagel, 3 tiny slices of pineapple for breakfast, a scoop of rice with curry over the top for dinner, you’re bound to lose weight!

It’s safe to say, I’ll be puttin’ the weight back on when I get back home . . .

Sick at Sea

My new employer, NCL, really frowns on you taking anytime off work, regardless of the circumstances. Last week I got the mother of all sickness!!! I had actually made peace with the fact that if I died, (and I fervently hoped that I would) it’d be okay. I missed two days of work and the other five days I barely worked 50 mins. Considering I’m paid microminimum wage, I can only guess that paycheck will be miniscule.

After a trip to the ship’s doctor, I received a packet of amoxicillan, 600 mg ibuprofen, jar of cough syrup, packet of sore throat lozenges. Nine days later, I feel better, though my energy level is extremely low, still feel really weak.

Needless to say, every other crew member has the exact same bug, so I can only imagine it will take many weeks for this thing to completely run its course.

(sigh)

9-1-1

Being at sea, in case of an emergency, when you dial 9-1-1, the 9-1-1 team is ME!! Well, not only me, but also my fellow crew members. There is the Medical team, Fire team, Lifeboat team, Pollution in the ocean team, Man Overboard team (this team is damn near wore out!) and Damage to the ship team.

Every Saturday at 4 p.m., I and about 60 other crew members have to help passengers practice a lifeboat/evacuation drill (PAX Drill). Each crew member and passenger is assigned a station and we go through the motions of putting on our lifejackets and point to where we’d board the lifeboat. Very similar to the airline’s “In Case of an Emergency” demonstration.

This all sounds well and good, except for the fact, I can’t find my way around this goddamned ship and passengers are relying on me to help them navigate their way to their safety station!!! Now, I ask you, how is that gonna work in case of a real emergency? It ain’t!! I pray to the powers that be, we never have a real emergency in my next 3 months at sea...I'm gonna have to dial 9-1-1!

Vampires

For the life of me, I don’t know why folks feel compelled to stay up past midnight. I mean really, what are you accomplishing? The few times I’ve scampered through the hallways from the club to my cabin, I see a lot of nonsensical conversations taking place, lots of standing around texting, running from cabin to cabin for follow up nonsensical conversation, or bored faces gazing at nothing! Then I get to deal with their saggy draggy asses the next morning complaining of how tired they are and want coffee and a Red Bull! - NOW!!!

My new friend, Jimmy, is guilty of the aforementioned behavior. When I asked him is it worth it. He was too tired to respond. He merely shrugged his droopy shoulders, rubbed his puffy red eyes and fumbled with his free hand for a Red Bull.

I have a suggestion, get your stupid self to bed!

Cabin 2224

Neat Nic that he is, Capt. Buz did random cabin inspections last week. He saw, first hand, the squalor I’ve been subjected to and immediately failed the cabin. He even left a little note, pointing out what exactly needed to be cleaned. Four days later, he checked the cabin again!

“Um, yes Captian, it’s still filthy!”

Failed!! Two failings is an immediate invitation to the 12th Deck! which ain’t a good thing.

The rules/regulations stipulate “Should a cabin fail inspection, all occupants are responsible” my roommates and I get hauled up to the Executive Chef’s Office and are informed we have to attend a “Warning Session” - 12th Deck. A Warning Session means you don’t have the warning yet, but depending on the outcome of what is discussed, you may walk out of there with a warning. 98.9% of the people invited to a Warning Session get the warning. Not really sure what follows a warning, but everybody is afraid of the warnings.

We are given the opportunity to defend ourselves. I’m relieved I’ve kept copious notes from Day 1 regarding cabin conditions and truculent roommates, yet irritated I have to get called on the carpet for something NCL should have fixed years ago. Namely, get rid of the filthy sloths. But, I’m a team player, I go along with the game. I submit my typed rebuttal and typed 3 page documentation of life in cabin 2224, and await the big day.

You would think the fools would at least make an attempt to tidy the cabin some. They don’t. Instead they are boasting about how this has happened before nothing ever came of it, and they really don’t care what happens.

The Big Day arrives and the occupants of Cabin 2224 were summoned into the room, on Deck 12. In this room, sit enough white shirts and with gold stripes on the shoulder to blind a person. I don’t know who any of them are, but am quick enough to know all are chief’s and directors, and I better mind my P’s & Q’s. I see that each has a copy of my rebuttal/documentation lying on the table in front of them.

The Head White Shirt and Gold Stripes asks, “Who’s Lisa?” I say, “I am.” Five White Shirts and Gold Stripes pause and look at me bug-eyed. I’m starting to feel a little uncomfortable, I was pretty brutal in the rebuttal and the documentation is uncensored and graphic! Then he sincerely says, “We owe you an apology. You’ve done everything you could, followed the proper chain of command and nothing was done for you. We are very sorry. If in the future, you should have problems, please come directly to myself or, and he points to, Mr. White Shirt and Gold Stripes Who Wears Glasses. You are excused.”

I politely thank them and quickly exit. Leaving my roommates in the room, seething.

Now, I don’t know what was said to my roommates, but I’m fairly sure they got a warning, since I later overheard one of my roommate screaming at the top of her lungs “THAT FUCKING’ BITCH BLIND SIDED US!!!”

I’m thinking, it will be a hostile living environment if I remain in that cabin, so I went to my supervisor and request a cabin change. HR only allow cabin change requests on Mondays/Tuesdays after 3pm, with the proper paperwork. Uh, no paperwork necessary for Ms. Sadler on this Sunday morning, and she was assigned a clean, nice smelling cabin, by 3:08 p.m.

Mr. White Shirt Gold Stripe HR did ask me, “After reading your lengthy documentation, why did you put up with that for as long as you did?” How do you explain to someone it wasn’t out of martyrdom, but tenacity? and the secret chuckle you got out of knowing it really, really pissed off your roommates that you were in “their territory” and they had to put up with your rising at dawn, making your bed, forcing them in small ways to change their bad habits, and there was nothing they could do about it, knowing one day it would all pay off? I couldn’t, so I just said, “I don’t know.”

I also relayed to Mr. HR, the screaming incident I’d overheard earlier. Ex-roommate probably imploded after she got her kicked in ass handed to her - again.

Conquering Kona

I did it! I swam to the 1/2 mile buoy!! It wasn't a pretty swim and lord knows I didn't break any world records. It was a lot of fun! And I've got bragging rights for a good 6 days!

Sailing around the Hawaiian Islands, our cruise ship, Pride of America strives to make it as authentically Hawaiian as possible. We have a Hawaiian Ambassador, China, who lives on board, to impart Hawaiian traditions/history to the guests. She’s a very nice lady, with the patience of Job. Whenever I see her I say, “Hi, China!” She grins so wide I can count all 1,131 of her teeth, and breathily says, “Aloha!”

Anyhow, Aloha (hello/goodbye) Mahalo (thank you) are used ad nauseam amongst the crew members. I ain’t sayin’ it, nor will I ever.

My new friend, James, is a server in Crew Mess. His job is to set up the hot/cold food lines, once we make it, re-fill the punch machine, set up the dessert station, make ice cream, etc. One day, I was irritatingly complaining about the only option for dessert was chocolate ice cream. I continued rave about how I can’t eat chocolate this late, blah, blah, whine, whine, piss and moan, pout.

James graciously said, “Oh, let me check for you. Hmm, let’s see chocolate here and chocolate here too.” He then looked me directly in the eye, smiled ever so sweetly and said, “Mahalo!

Mollified, I shut up, hustled along and sat down to eat my meal. Then it dawned on me, he just told me to "Shut the fuck up! It is what it is! It’s a free meal! This is all there is, take it or leave it and move on!" Mahalo!

Let me tell you, I laughed so hard, so loud and for so long, I nearly blacked out.

Crew Fun!

Once a month, the Crew Activities Director puts together an event for all staff. Typically these events are held very late at night 10:30 p.m. - 1:30 a.m. (Ugh!) Last crew event was free bowling, pizza and soda in Kauai. I’d rather endure a public enema than go bowling and eat pizza, with the same people I work, eat and sleep with. I’ll pass . . .

This month it was karaoke night in one of the bars, on Deck 11, in the passenger area! Woo Hoo! Now I love to watch people make fools of themselves. I made a point to attend this one. So I took a nap, threw on a pair of white pants, orange sweater, knotted a scarf in my head and took off.

First of all, I was over dressed. Folks gawked at me. One girl got up the courage to say, “You look like you stepped out of an L.L. Bean catalog.” Secondly, we were only served beer or wine. Wasn’t in the mood for either. But they did have cold popcorn, for consumption. I passed on that too . . .

Finally at around 11:45pm the festivities began! Let’s just say, It wasn’t worth the nap and getting dressed. The volume was so low you couldn’t hear it over the buzz of the audience. The few folks I could hear whisper into the room were lack luster. The most semi-interesting thing that happened that night was the transvestite crew member who was there to Par-tay!!. By day he’s Tyrone at night she’s Yasmine. Yasmine perched herself next to me, chatted my damn ear off and took our picture. I know that picture is already on Facebook somewhere....

I should have stuck with my public enema philosophy.

Capt. Buz is my Hero!

Did I mention the first time I laid eyes on Capt. Buz it was a wide angle view of the seat of his pants? I was walking down the hallway and he was bent over picking up a speck of trash! The man is a NEAT NIC!! He’s obsessed with cleanliness and the appearance of his vessel.

Well, Captain got a bug in his cap today and decided to do random cabin checks. He checked my cabin!! YEAH!! He must have raked my nasty roommates over the coals because the last 72 hours our cabin is much tidier than I’ve EVER seen it. It’s amazing how quickly one can pull one’s act together when the Captain tells you to do so.

I’m going to see how I can send him a 'Thank You!' note.

Sensitive People

Chef Smelly Ass pulled me aside for a chat. Evidently four people in the kitchen have a problem of how I say things to them. My delivery is hurting their feelings. Here’s one example...

I asked Oscar why he put orange cheese in the chicken cannelloni filling. (p.s. for those of you that don’t know, it’s an Italian dish no cheddar cheese goes near any Italian dish - EVER) He said, “It’s not orange cheese it’s cheddar and adds a nice flavor. (Mild cheese adds flavor? Oh, okay....)There are many variations of how to make it, and this is how it’s made in Production, and for your information, everybody loves it.

I asked, “Am I one of the "everybody"?”

Well that comment along with some other spicy conversations put me in the spotlight.

Chef Smelly Ass overheard this exchange and he stated he didn’t see it as particularly offensive. Yet, Oscar thought I was questioning his cooking ability and was challenging. Chef Smelly Ass concluded by saying no matter how good someone is, or how well they can cook, if they’re a problem, it’s like cancer, he’s gonna have to cut it out.

I said, “Chef, look at me, I can’t change. You’re leaving for vacation in a few days and I feel bad you have to deal with this pettiness right now. I’ll keep all my dialogue to “hello & good bye” from here on out. But as far as Oscar goes, I’m not his supervisor nor do I sign his checks, why does he care what I say? And, no I’m not apologizing to him.”

I excused myself and left.

Chef Smelly Ass continued to sit there rubbing his face looking out the window, trying to figure out what the hell he’s gonna do.

(everything in parenthesis was not uttered, but was probably written all over my face)

Day Off

Since there are too many people and not enough work, I got the day off, in KONA!!

I spent the morning battling the Iron Man swim. I'm no where near the "Iron" status, but in a few weeks I hope to be able to see "aluminum foil" progress. Had a nice leisurely breakfast, then found a hotel that had chaise lounges perched right on the ocean! Took a 2 hour gaze at the beautiful surf/sea, then meandered my way back into town, got a wax then mozied over to Target and back to the ship.

EXCELLENT day! Need 30 more just like it!

I'm told it might happen again next week. I'm keeping my fingers crossed....

I Love Capt. Buz!!

I worked like a rabid dog over fishcakes the other day for Crew Mess dinner. I thought they were pretty tasty but got no feed back from my co-workers or any one who tried them.

Next day, I over hear Capt. Buz tell somebody, "Those fishcakes last night were out of this world!" I was STOKED!!! WOO-HOO!!

Later that day, Chef Smell Ass tells me Capt. Buz emailed the Executive Chef Frank about how good dinner was the night before and especially mentioned the fishcakes!

I just might be good at this cooking thing . . .

Life on Board

Now that I have a better understanding of what life is really like on board I can share it with you.

I work in the Crew Mess. The menu is very similar to Juvenile Hall! I laughed out loud when I saw chili mac, sloppy joe’s and mac-n-cheese on the menu.

My hours are 9-5 everyday. Which isn’t as bad as it sounds. “Weekends Off” is no longer your goal, instead you look forward to when your shift ends or when you can get off the ship for a few hours to see the islands. Down time on the ship is the limiting and potentially boring!!! So working long hours every day is best to help time pass. Saving $$ is a MAJOR motivating factor to working so many hours.

There are 8 total who cook in Crew Mess. I’m the only woman (sigh). We have daily scuffles as to the only way to make Pork Adobo, Teriyaki sauce and Fried Rice. But fried chicken is made by dipping the cooked meat in water, dredged in flour and then deep fried . . . . it’s pure shit, and I’m purple with rage!! So I’ve taken on frying 90# of chicken 3x’s a week, in order for it to be done the right way. Yeah, it’s a little work, but I get paid the same and I have the satisfaction of knowing its being done the right way!

Completely different departments clean the kitchen, and wash pots/pans. There are NO TOWELS to wipe down counters, your hands, or pick up hot items. We have hot pads, whew! Paper towels are used to swipe at shit slopped on counter tops. We have exactly 8 knives, the sharpest one can’t cut air! I’ve begged Chef to sharpen our knives, he looked at me like I’d sprouted two heads.

There are no robot coupes, blenders or cuisine arts! So, when I had to chop, by hand onions, peppers and parsley for fishcakes to feed 200+ people, I was nearly crippled by days end. There is ONE stick blender but it is kept under lock/key on the 5th Deck and ONLY the Executive Sous Chef can request its use. Sanitation buckets are ubiquitously placed, and are rarely used. Oh get this . . . EVERY DAMN DAY we have to order salt and pepper! The ordering is done by the Executive Sous Chef only, and when we get it someone promptly steals it out of our kitchen!! We have some times gone DAYS without either. In fact, every day, everyday supplies have to be ordered Weird!!

Several different departments contribute to a portion of each restaurant menu. The Production Dept. preps rices, mashed potatoes, soups, etc. The Produce Dept. provides chopped, sliced or diced veggies/fruits of several different varieties to the entire ship. The Bakery provides breads to the entire ship. Pastry Dept. desserts for each dept. Each restaurant has its own kitchen where they specially prepare the items for their menu. Let's say the restaurant Little Italy has Peppers & Sausage on their menu, they would order their meat from the Meat Dept. and prepare it but would have the peppers come pre-sliced from Produce and the marinara sauce would come from Production. A LOT OF TEAMWORK goes into each ones menus. It's mind boggling how it all happens so seamlessly.

I’m finally, finally, able to navigate my way from my cabin to Crew Mess without asking 6 people and still getting lost! This ship is HUGE and I am the most disoriented person to walk the face of the earth! I seriously considered buying a GPS to help me get around this damn ship.

Crew “hang out” areas on the ship are: a gym, game room with pool table (which is hard to play as the ship rocks back and forth) and an air hockey table, 3 flat screen TVs to play video games, and also watch TV, but you have to share these with 900+ other people. There is a Crew Bar open every evening from 8:30 - 1:30 a.m., there is a very strict drinking code, blood alcohol limit is .04. On the 12th Deck is an outside crew area, with spectacular views of the ocean, and islands, but no where to sit, unless you perch your ass directly on the deck, which some do. Not I! In your shared cabin you have a remote control TV with a DVD player, and a small refrigerator, not bad. I have the top bunk which suits me just fine.

Swim with the Fishes

Every Wednesday, we dock in Kona. Kona is where the Iron Man competition is held. We are allowed to swim the Iron Man portion. So for the past few weeks I've made a point of taking advantage of this opportunity.

The swim is phenomenal!!!! It's like swimming in a tropical aquarium!! Such amazing sights!! I can't even begin to name the different fish and coral I've seen. Week before last, dolphins swam nearby!! I wasn't out far enough to see them but I'm working my way up to swimming out that far!

This week I left with a baby crab crawling off me. It gave me the creeps, it looked like a tarantula, but the locals said it was Good Luck! I'll take their word for it, the swim itself is such a treat!

Boys in Men's Clothing

There is a chef here who for weeks only glared at me with a deadpan expression. While he looks like Yosemite Sam his demeanor is more like Charles Manson. Every time I see him I dive for the opposite corner and at ALL cost avoid eye contact.

Last week Chef Yosemite Sam about 1/2 block away spied me careening his direction. He waggles his thumb and pinkie finger at me in the Hawaiian expression for "Hi!" or "Hang Ten" !

HUH?!

The other day, I've got my head down chopping onions, peppers and parsley (like a maniac) for fish cakes he screams, "HELLO GORGEOUS!" I cut my finger . . . WTF?

Earlier this week Chef Smelly Ass had an impromptu staff meeting, I'm the only woman in the group of 8 people. While chef is breaking down the menu for us, I whip out my lip moisturizer and whisk it around my lips right quick.

• Chef looses his train of thought, and stutters for a good 15 seconds.
• Paulino gazes at me like I'm a goddess.
• The other 5 just gape at my mouth like it gonna perform another magic trick!!

I've always had an extremely high opinion of myself (blame my parents), but reactions like this is RIDICULOUS!!!!

Fun Facts

Working in kitchens you get to see your fair share of bugs and rodents...yuck! My personal pet peeve are flies. I absolutely hate, loathe and detest a fly! Funnily enough, there are NO FLIES in ship our kitchens!! Actually, no bugs, rodents, ants, or ANYTHING! Which is nice! Real nice!

Except.....

On Saturday, is the big change over day. Passengers are leaving, new ones are expected, supplies are hauled in, its a HUGE HUGE undertaking. So when I waltzed in on Sunday for lunch prep, I spied a little fly! I watched that little creature for a good 15 mins, I was so excited!

I wanted to keep it as a pet!

Round 2

Oh my Stupid Roommates!!!! There were 2 rules they had to follow:

1. The only sitting chair in the cabin is NOT YOUR CLOSET! Put that shit somewhere else.
2. The TV has to be turned off by 2 a.m.

Both of these rules Fuckwits screwed up 4 days after the pow wow. I went to Chef Frank and told him to remind them about the two rules. He immediately got on the phone and called who ever. That night my roommates in a panic requested a "Roommate Meeting". I agreed to 6 p.m. the following evening.

Next evening, Chef Smelly Ass changed my schedule, so I couldn't meet at 6. I hunt down the Fuckwits to ask about rescheduling to 7p.m. Oh my god, the meltdown was incredible to watch! I was screamed at, "IT'S ALL ABOUT YOU!!! CHEF ERIC SAID I HAD TO MEET WITH YOU TODAY AT 6 P.M." This was followed with a quivering chin and watery eyes and Fuckwit #1 stomped down the hallway.

I was in awe! Somebody was really, really nervous about being under the gun. So, I called my Chef told him I'd be meeting with my roomies and would work later than my usual time.

What came out of that meeting was, I discovered my roommates are retarded. I'm not being mean or facetious, just stating a fact. They have the IQ of 84 pts. I didn't know they were mentally retarded, now I know what I'm dealing with, I can cut them some slack.

We're all the best of friends now, but they still don't know what to do when they see me in the hallways 389 times a day. I've drawn the line, I ain't sayin' hello or waving - damn I have to sleep with them isn't that enough?

Hammer Time

I finally had it with the antics of my juvenile roommates so I had them hauled into the Executive Chef's Office for a little chit chat. The Exec Chef is Frank who takes NO BULLSHIT and will tell you point blank what he's thinking. (I kinda like him, but have a hard time understanding him, with his accent - he's French)

Anyhow, Frank had me start out the meeting by stating what the problem was, I shared my viewpoint of what was going on (too numerous to reiterate, just trust me, my roommates are assholes) and then I stated further the quick fix is not me moving out, they needed to change their behavior, we didn't have to like each other to live together. Silence. I saw a little gleam in ole Frank's eye though. He wasn't expecting that line out of my mouth.

Some concessions were made, meeting ended, I was dismissed. The roomies had to stay for a further chat. I have no idea what was said, but they really don't like me now (ha-ha) and their cabin room behavior has changed dramatically!

Score 1 for Lisa!

Unbelieveable!

My first day on the ship, there was a funeral held for a crewmember, who had gone swimming on the island in the wrong spot and broke his neck.

The following week, another crewmember tried to commit suicide (by taking Tylenol and cough syrup - but hey! the effort was there.

Yesterday while I'm eating breakfast we hear over the intercom "Code Oscar!" a crew member hurled himself off the ship into the ocean! Then we hear Capt. Buz holler into the intercom, "Will the Safety Officer please report to the scene! Uh... the Safety Officer was already at the scene, he caused the scene! YIKES!!

I wonder how Capt. Buz feels about having 3 episodes within 3 weeks on his watch. I think he's afraid of people asking him about yesterday's incident. I saw him in the hall this a.m., he did an abrupt about face, so I bellowed any way, "Good Morning, Capt.!" He mumbled a reply, but he was high tailin' it down the hallway!

Name Calling

My boss, Chef Smelly Ass, asked me to do something and I responded with "Yes, sir."
He asked, me, "Why do you call me sir?"
I said, "Because I can't remember your name."

Safe answer, I really call him Chef Smelly Ass, but as I'm still on probation, I think it best not to call him that.

I've finally given up on insisting my name being used. Every fool on this ship refer to women as "sweetie, momma, honey, peaches. Irritating because in the kitchen I work in I'm the only woman. My co-workers all call me Lisa, the other fools that float through there use the pet names.

Ha! Ha? . . . Huh?

Working in the Crew Mess we prepare the foods, but there are many many servers who replenish the food. Anyhow, one kid "Jimmy" asked me if I like Mexican food, because there was a place in Kauai that had FANTASTIC food and margaritas. He went on and on about the fabulous margaritas and how much I'd love them, they make the best he's ever had, blah, blah, blah. Now I'm looking at this kid and realize he probably doesn't even shave yet, he's so young, so I ask him, "Are you legal to drink?" His reply was, "Yep! 10 days!"

I laughed so hard, loud and long I gave myself a headache! Jimmy really knows his liquors!

* * * * * * * *

John who also works in Crew Mess, is this ENORMOUS beast of a man who talks with a nasal Texas twang. John's goal is to make 6 pizzas in 10 hours. Sometimes he can get it done within the given time frame, most times not. He ain't motivated to move too fast. So, John is explaining to me how fabulous his pizzas are and all the different toppings he puts on them - onions, peppers, cheese, mushrooms, pepperoni (THAT'S IT!) I asked him if he has ever made a margherita pizza, he looked at me horrified and said, "No, we can't make that here." I told him its not made with alcohol. He said, "Oh, I know, it's just too tedious to make here. I said, "Really? It has 3 ingredients: basil, cheese and pizza sauce." He doesn't talk to me anymore about the fine art of pizza making.

Today, I was assigned to make his pizzas, he was visibly trembling when he had to hand over the stuff. He'll flip tomorrow when he finds out I made a meatball pizza, asparagus and chicken pizza and a meat lovers pizza. Dept. Dir of F&B high fived me when he saw I'd made the meatball pizzas. John's gonna hate me . . .

Double Take

I've seen 3 celebrity look-a-likes on board:

Tom Welling (Smallville)
Collin Powell (WMD frontman)

It's all I could do to keep from waving and giggling like a fool!

Chef Smelly Ass, my boss, looks like a slimmed down version of Mr. Haney from Green Acres. No giggling or waving involved there . . .

Aha!

Since working for NCL psuedo-navy, I've now discovered why it is one can become so easily addicted to drugs, alcohol and cigarettes. The pressure to conform to "order" is tremendous. Hierarchy is EVERYTHING! And you are immediately put in your place even without it verbally being said. I'll give you an example . . . .

I work 7 days a week, I was issued 3 uniforms. It takes laundry 3-4 days to return your laundry. After working 8 mins. in the kitchen I'm covered in muck!! My uniform is destroyed. So I'm now forced to wear filthy clothing several days in a row. Executive sous chefs march around in pristine uniforms. I guess, I'm put in my place. So, being the wicked person I am, I've worn the most disgustingly filthy dirty uniform to work for the past 5 days - I ain't changing it either!

This is just one of the many many ways one is doggedly, incessantly, relentlessly pummelled with feelings of inadequacy. Not to mention the numerous rules/regulations that instill fear in one. You are guaranteed a write up, suspension, docking, retaliation if there is any suspicion of you breaking a rule.

It's no wonder I've always been in conflict with management. I can't knuckle under. It's physically, emotionally, spiritually impossible for me to do. I have no interest in making those in higher positions feel superior - to me? Fuck 'em!

Granted I pay the consequences, like the time I called the Capt. a liar. But since then, whenever he sees me he shouts "Hi, There!!" The Dep. Dir. of Food & Beverage is currently trying to figure out why I don't shudder in his very presence. I'm gonna get him a helmet, cause we will be buttin' heads soon . . .

Progress!!

While making cajun catfish, chili mac, italian sausage pasta, fruit salsa, vegetable stir-fry, grilled ham steaks, bbq ribs, and lord I can't remember what else, my co-workers started calling me "Miss Lisa". HIP HIP HOORAY!!

Chef Smelly Ass returned from his week long training, he spied me on the gangway when I was leaving for my morning run he shouted "HEY!" I smiled, he threw open his arms and hugged me - WTF??! When did we quantum leap to huggin'?

The Job

Well, since I've started working in Crew Mess galley, I've made, pastrami sandwiches, chicken fricasee, red snapper, french fries, cod, pasta, pasta, pasta, diced bacon, and chives, for approximately, 250 people. The crew buffet is ENORMOUS and I get a tiny portion of it to prepare. Yes, I love it! I'm learning so much! Mostly how to use new equipment and kitchen strategies/dynamics.

There were 6 of us who started new on the ship, as a result EVERYONE's hours were cut. NOBODY is happy about that. The tension in the galley is palatable. I understand their grumblings. You are paid minimum wage, and the OT is what makes it manageable. 6 newbies snatching your crumbs makes for a tense situation.

Two dudes who've been training me are helpful, one's English I can't understand, he asked me to make "morning sauce" I told him I don't know what a morning sauce was. He then rattled off the ingredients, I quickly understood it to be a bechamel with cheese, he's call it a mornay sauce. But if my memory is correct, mornay sauce really has a tomato product added. So, you see my dilemma. This coupled with the other trainer who keeps calling me "sweetie", "momma", "baby", and "honey", each time I tell him, my name is Lisa. FINALLY he got it yesterday, when I said, you know that little pile of money you're saving? It could be wiped out with a sexual harassment case. He blanched and immediately started using my proper name. Idiot!

Fire Hydrant

You know when you take your dog for a walk, and it feels compelled to pee on every single, tree, post, fire hydrant, tire, shrub? Well, I feel like that tree, post, hydrant and shrub. Since I'm new every man with or without teeth, limited proper English speak skills, is dying to chat me up!!

I'll give you an example, I'm getting off the ship for the first time last night, dude stops me in the stairwell (2-2-22, important to know in case of emergency) and tells me he likes is sistas thick, this was complete with hand gestures as to where the "thickness" should be...oh, yeah, thanks.. Then standing in the pier, waiting for the shuttle three circling sharks intermittently asked me if I'd like to go out with them for the evening - HELL NO!! I live with you, work beside you, last thing I want is to party with you!

It's breakfast time, so I have to go in the Crew Mess, hopefully find a table with a bunch of other women or buddy up with one of my classmates which sorta slows down the toothless and clueless. I'm told this is because I'm new and there all hoping for a shot. Wha they don't know is there about to get shot.

Get to Work!

Basic Safety Training ends today! So, if you are ever in need of me performing CPR, bandage a wound, call for help, shimmy in/out of a life preserver, dive in/out of a life raft, put out a fire using a hose and/or fire extinguisher, show you to your muster station, and a myriad of other safety related procedures, I'm your gal. WHEW! I'll need more luggage to haul all these certificates home!

I finally received my job assignment!! I'll be working in the Crew Dining Hall. Or the correct term, "Crew Mess". I know I'll be working a minimum of 57 hours a week. My gut instinct tells me the reason it took so long to receive this info is due to the fact, there is a glut of Asst. Cooks and they're scratching their heads trying to figure out where we should go.

I met my supervisor last night, he looked like someone had pulled him out from under a garbage pail. His introductory words to to me were, "I'll be away this week to a training, so you won't have to see my smelly ass." Then he proceeded to chat up my 19 y.o. classmate, reminscing about Michigan. Nice......

I don't know my schedule, I'll have to follow up with that after class today.