1/4/15
At sea, M/V Corinthian,
Drake Passage, En route to Ushuaia
It has been just over 12 hours since I went to sleep, and I have
almost nothing to report. Other than the
cloud coverage, the view is engaged from this morning, and we are just about, I
guess, 100 or so miles closer to Ushuaia.
As I was getting to publish my entry last night, I saw that Margaret had
Liked one of my posts, though it was like 2 AM in New York. We wound up chatting for almost an hour, and
she asked the story of how Aliyah and I got together. I gave her the story of how I developed my
feelings from her from January to August of 2014. I then published my entry and passed
out.
I woke up towards the end of
breakfast, grabbed two plates to bring to my cabin, and went back to sleep. I woke up again halfway into lunch, so I left
the breakfast untouched. I showered and
headed down to lunch, finding an empty chair next to Sam and her parents. After lunch, I think I went right back to
sleep. No, I found Sam in the lounge,
and sat with her in a comfortable silence until I was ready to pass out and
went back to my cabin. I woke up again
for dinner. Wait, no. I haven’t eaten dinner yet. I woke up starving and went to the lounge,
where John Frick was reciting the Rime of the Ancient Mariner. Afterwards, I went up to the club, where I
found Sam passed out asleep. I retrieved
my breakfast and ate the bacon, which, along with some coffee, would keep me
satiated until dinner. All my other
friends were either passed out or in a zombie-like state. No fun.
I went back to the lounge where I found L--- with her
grandmother. Last night, I had asked her
if she thought I could call her grandmother “grandma.” L--- didn’t think it would be the smartest
idea, but she encouraged me to go for it.
When I got to the lounge, L--- and I exchanged pleasant greetings, and
I told her that I had slept all day, hoping she would tease me in the way I so
love, the way that so reminds me of the way my girlfriend does. I did not quite get the reaction I wanted
from her, but her grandmother did not disappoint, asking me if intended to wear
my pajamas, which I was still wearing, to dinner. I said that I was considering it, and she
told me not to. “Okay, whatever you say,
grandma.” “Thank you.” Hmm, interesting. I went back to my cabin, put my sweats on
over my pajamas, and grabbed a cigar. As
I headed back to the smoking deck, “Grandma” said, “Much better.” I went outside, where I lit up my Cohiba,
messaged back and forth with Sokol, and proceeded to write this entry, which I
will now close.
Perfect. I have yet to have a meal with Vanessa and her
parents that was anything less than memorable. Alright, to be fair, it’s more like I see Vanessa as a favorite cousin
for the trip. I feel exactly the same
way towards her as I feel about my cousin Tali.
As for her parents, I like them better than I like most of my aunts and
uncles, and I look at them, at least for the duration of the trip, as I would a
favorite aunt and uncle. I posted to
Facebook the best quotes of the dinner, but I will summarize them. Phil asked me if I was almost done with my
book, and I said that it couldn’t be done until I got back to New York. We all agreed that, with this interesting
bunch of passengers, I was sure to get some good material. Someone else at the table seemed hesitant
that I was writing a book about the passengers, and Vanessa warned him to be on
his best behavior. I think it’s gotten
to the point where Phil feels the need to always bring his A-game to make sure
I have good material, and he has not been one to disappoint.
We were talking about how all of the crew has
to double up in their roles, and this when I got the two best laughs of the
evening. Phil, always quick on his feet,
said that he would have to thank the captain for cooking the meal. I could not stop laughing. We then tried to figure out if the doctor
doubled up in anything. Phil joked that
he was working the gift shop, while Vanessa quipped that he was the one who
cleaned our boots off when we got back to the ship. I cracked up once more, and Phil asked if I
was getting good material for my book. I
assured him that I was. The portions, as
always, were meager, so I ordered an extra portion of salmon. Vanessa, however, only ate half of her
turkey. Phil took one piece of the
turkey and gave the plate to me, which I gladly finished.
I can’t wait to get back to New York and have
a big plate of Chinese food. However, I
do think that I will leave the chopsticks thing in 2014. It has run its course, and me being me means
that I no longer do silly things to amuse people. We also discussed our favorite part of the
trip. Without a doubt, my favorite part
was Orne Harbor, smoking my cigar and writing my entry on the continent. There was some debate about the environmental
effects. I insisted that not smoking
ashore was a ship rule, not a treaty rule.
As long I as brought the ash and butt back to the ship with me, I was
not in violation. The debate then turned
to the effect of the smoke, and we all agreed it was inconsequential to the
effects of the ship’s exhaust.
After
dinner, Phil and Wanda went back to the cabin, and I told Vanessa I was going
out for my cigar. She said that she
would meet me in the club later. It’s
funny, everyone on this ship knows my name, even the crew. I can hardly walk down a corridor without a
dozen people greeting me. I know most
people’s name, but the people I like the best and the people who like me the
best are not an equivalent set. It’s
more like a Venn diagram. As I was
sitting out here, Katherine’s dad, John walked by and gave me a friendly
wave. He was teasing me mercilessly at
dinner last night, and I asked Katherine if that meant he liked me. She said she wasn’t sure and that was hard to
get a good read on him. From the wave he
just gave me, the answer is obvious.
Anyway, I put on some layers, grabbed a Fume D’amour, along with my wine
and smoking gear, and I headed outside, where I proceeded to write this entry,
which I will now close, so that I can finish my cigar and find my friends.
All of my favorite people were up
there, and I had no desire to socialize.
I just wanted to be my old self.
I just wanted to observe. I just
wanted to watch my favorite people be happy.
I was happy seeing them happy. I
put my tablet away and just watched. I
watched Vanessa and Dom, happy for them. I watched Davy and Beth tease each
other while they played Scrabble. I
watched Sam and Danny, back to being best friends. I watched Steve and Claudia chat with little
William’s parents. However, what I liked
watching best was L--- playing with little William. As they ran around the club and down the
corridor, I had a flashback to Thanksgiving.
Once again, L--- reminded me of my girlfriend, and I could remember my
girlfriend play with her cousin in the exact same way.
I was very content watching all of these
scenes. I walked over to the Scrabble
board, as the game dwindled down, intending to join in for the next round,
knowing that no one at that table could hope to beat me. Frances and Alan put their tiles back in the
bag and bowed out, so I kibitzed with Davy as he and Beth finished the
game. Neither of them were up for
another round, but we agreed to play tomorrow.
Vanessa and Dom had gone off to, well, do whatever. Sammy and Danny had also gone to bed. Steve and Claudia went to bed once we walked
over to them, and little William’s parents had taken him to bed. That just left me with possibly my three
favorite people on the boat. Oh, no,
there was one other person there, someone whom I didn’t know, though he always
greets me by name. Wayan was also there,
and I had given him one of my last two banknotes as a tip, wanting to make sure I
gave him a special tip. It was small by
my standards, but it was a lot to him, and he really appreciated it. He deserved it.
L--- kept asking Davy to tell him his life
story. He turned her down, and I asked
her why she didn’t want to hear my life story.
She said that she already knew my life story and proceeded to tell it
just as well as I could have done, pinning me down to a tee. If there was any doubt in my mind that I
loved her, it was gone. She talked about
my checklist travel, about everywhere I lived, about how I live my life. I told her that I couldn’t have done a better
job, and she went to bed. Davy went to
take his sleeping pill, and the other passenger left. That just left me and Beth. Knowing I’d never see her again once we got
off the boat, I opened up to her. I was
myself with her, and we had an amazing conversation.
I kept thinking back to what two years agpreviously
considered the best conversation I had with a beautiful woman. This was better. The example, of course, was on the bus in Israel. However, that was
not a real conversation. Two years ago, that was me
laughing while a crazy and beautiful woman told me all of her crazy stories,
talking to me because she loved the attention, as my now-girlfriend would later
confirm, me pretending to be interested because I wanted to hook up with
her.
No, two years later on the boat, it
was different. This was a real
conversation. This was not me trying to
flirt. This was me chatting with someone
whom I genuinely liked. The fact that
she was beyond beautiful was almost irrelevant.
I opened up to her, and I was the true me. She liked the true me better than the persona
I had previously created. I explained to
her how I had planned to isolate myself and just read my philosophy books. She agreed that she thought she’d have more
time to do productive stuff. I explained
to her I am not a very social person.
She said that she never has any trouble socializing, but she didn’t
think that that there would be so many people her age. It was a really good conversation, not just
me talking and her listening, but her asking questions because she was
interested.
I reminded her of that first
lunch we had together, how I ran off as soon as I was done eating. She remembered. I told her that that’s how I normally
am. After a while, she said that she was
going to bed, and I weakly told her that it was nice chatting with her. She agreed, and we said goodnight, just as
Davy came back. We then went down to the
smoking deck, and I lit up a Santana while he smoked some cigarettes. After he went to bed, I went to get my laptop,
and I came back here, where I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now
close, as my cigar is almost done, so that I can go to bed at a decent hour and
be prepared for whatever tomorrow offers.
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