The Golden Princess began having engine trouble after leaving Ketchikan, and the Captain had to slow our speed way down. We docked in Canada to do required International paperwork, then we sailed out of port within the hour. We needed to reach Seattle in time for passengers to catch their flights home. Once again, passengers were not allowed off the ship. All shore excursions were canceled and refunded, along with an extra $25 credit on our final bill. A nice gesture by the Captain, but it hardly made a dent in the scheme of things! Hubby and his bro went ‘exploring’ (a.k.a. to get ice-cream) while I propped my feet up and wrote, tried to beat Level 40 in Candy Crush, and knitted a row or two on my latest project. Yawn.
The Disembarkation process was excellent. They had it down to an organized science. Probably because they were sick of us by now, or we were in the 3rd grouping to leave. Either reason worked for us, just that it was. Organized I mean.
My poor feet began to swell up any time they were not propped up. It hurt to walk or move around. Because of The Rule of Gates, it was Hell at the airport. For those who are not familiar with the rule, it simply states that – “The gate farthest away is the gate you must go to.” The amendment to this rule is: “When your departing gate changes, it will be to the farthest one from the original.”
I suspect you already knew that rule, didn’t you?
The bus from the pier to airport was a 45-minute ride. In a near-vegetative state, dozing with my eyes open, then jerked awake by sharp corners or squealing brakes, I looked forward to getting home and getting some rest. Like I was looking forward to a vacation.
All of these persona’s blog here. If you have followed along for a while, you may have “met” most of them. They ALL have something to say. I keep a notebook to jot down ideas, research, topics & whatnot, some of the stuff in there amazes me, obviously written by one of us.
Bad Ideas if you have more than one personality:
Get a Tattoo.
Who would get to make that decision? No one wants to wake up and find someone elses tattoo on their body, so we are not going there.
Go to Las Vegas.
Not to mention any names, but one of us is a bit sleazy, one of us is a compulsive gambler, and who knows what kind of trouble the hard-ass would cause.
My poor husband. Every evening when he leaves work, he has no clue who he is coming home to. Sometimes he enjoys the variety, but mostly he is exhausted.
Work with Alzheimer’s patients.
Those poor souls have enough confusion in their lives. They certainly don’t need us.
Go anywhere without a GPS:
Not a single one of us has any sense of direction. I mean none… whatsoever
Have the combination to the gun safe:
The Government could learn from hubby and his boys about keeping top-secret information from getting into the wrong hands.
Topic #65: “If you could read minds for a day, would you?” Hell yes! I would LOVE to read minds. Can I have more than one day? What a wonderful opportunity to check out how other people think about stuff, what thoughts pop into their heads, and most importantly, are they as nutty as I am?
Finding out how people really feel about me would be scary, but worth all the other things I would find out. I am a very curious nosy gal. I inherited this trait from mom, along with weak teeth and shapely legs. (All three traits have gotten me into trouble now and then.)
Knowing which co-workers I annoyed would be useful information. So would being able to keep 2 steps ahead of my boss. My sister would love me to stop asking her questions all the time. Getting info from her is like prying the remote control away from mom. Speaking of which, reading mom’s thoughts would save her a lot of breath and effort now.
Being able to know what my hubby is thinking would be so helpful. Every time I ask him, “whatcha thinkin’?”. He answers with “Nothing”. According to him, he never thinks. I know this is not true. He just doesn’t want to tell me what he is thinking about. Drives me crazy!
Reading minds would keep me out of trouble. Did you know that some forms of nosiness are actually felonies? Trust me on this one.