Unfortunately, happiness isn’t a little cake which we can cut up to suit our desires.

Up a bit late, under the spell of "All This, and Heaven Too"
(perhaps one of Bette Davis' finest performances).
As I was lying about on this too-warm evening, I realized that I have been
neglectful in not offering a single word about my early-birthday cruise.
I'll try not to bore you with too much information, but below is my assessment of the trip.
In a word: EXHAUSTING.
For a longer version - see below.

The ship is a 77,000-ton, 1,970-passenger vessel with 2 full service restaurants
and 5 other eating venues. There are 5 bars, a theater, a spa, a casino,
3 swimming pools and several hot tubs, as well as an art gallery of sorts,
a few fine jewelry and porcelain stores and both a golf and a basketball 'zone'.
There are nine (12?) stories accessible to passengers, and miles
(did I mention MILES) of deck and hallway.
My friend C is a veteran cruiser, and knew what to expect,
but my antiquated visions of lazing about poolside
while some loyal, besotted crew man hand-fed me grapes
died a hideous death after my first fifty mile trot to the bow and back.
The trip from Vancouver, B.C. back to Seattle was a lovely gesture on C's part,
and featured incredible scenery, unbelieveable people-watching opportunities
and a staggering amount of good food (anything you want/anytime you want it).
My faves?
Fresh pinneapple and cornflake-crumb encrusted French Toast ala James Beard
The crew represented over 300 countries, and every last one was
remarkably kind and friendly and cheerful. The song and dance routines were
so awful they were wonderful, and our private veranda was enchanting
but in truth, I don't think I am really cruise material.
I felt awkward being waited on 24/7, and a bit taken aback by the avarice
and the waste I saw all around me.
And I missed my stuff - the tools and materials to keep my hands and mind busy ,
since I wasn't much caught up in any of the entertainments available to me on board.
I loved talking, and sitting near the water in the sun, but I can do that at home.
I realize it may expose me as a dullard, but I must admit that my travel jones has faded.
I only want to journey if it's short and sweet and I can stay close to the ground.
I did love the train trip (Seattle to Vancouver) - it was every bit the way I remembered.
We wound along the water, and along the backside of every town we passed through,
so I had plenty of rusty, decrepit warehouses, decaying ports and hollow-eyed shanty dwellers
to keep me totally mesmerized. We also passed an eagle breeding area, where we saw
hundreds of eagles in all stages of growth. They were eating, flying, wading in the water,
resting on the rocks and generally being magnificent. Every person in our car was thrilled,
which was oddly touching - all those adults, chattering in their train seats like school children.
And that, my friends, is that.

In other news - Elliot has left the Idol, crushing my hopes for that rare,
deserving-underdog win. I have loved watching his confidence grow,
and his taste in music was refreshing. He managed to introduce Donny Hathaway
to some new listeners, which makes him a huge winner in my book.
On Invasion, it appears that that, if she lives, the ranger's wife will soon be a hybrid...
I wonder when we will get to see what happens next.
Over on the Sopranos, all things dark and ominous are hurtling toward New Jersey.
I am confused by the focus on Vito - but it's obvious that he is going to be a catalyst
for all sorts of merda to hit the fan. The threatening atmosphere of these episodes is
almost nauseating, with everybody exposing their nasty underbelly while they pretend
to love, honor and respect. The final denouement should be epic.
Speaking of epic - this post feels a bit lengthy...let's blame it on pain meds, extreme
cramping, bloating, vomiting and too much of the heating pad.
I had my surgical moment today, and so far all is just as advertised.
I don't remember much beyond getting undressed, putting on a hospital gown
and talking to D while the world spun away. When I woke up, I thought I was
in somebody's basement. I tried to sit up and and find out why I was there,
and someone called out "You're in recovery". From what, I wanted to know,
but I couldn't seem to stay awake to hear the answer.
My biggest horror - nothing from midnight Tuesday night until 1 p.m. today.
No coffee at 7 in the a. of m. No water at the crack of noon.
Nada.
But, I did get pineapple juice when fluids were again allowed.
2 fantastic little cans, beautifully chilled, with bendable straws cut short to fit.
At this point, I am just thrilled that the procedure (D/C, ablation and something else
I can't recall now) is over and I am at home in my woods where I belong.
And where I will now go attempt to sleep out from under
the strangely agitating effects of anesthesia and pain killers.

I only hope this tome does not prove to have the same effect on you.


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