Getting Older, or Get Off My Boat!

I went on a cruise a couple of weeks ago. Headed out from New Orleans, five nights on the boat, a stop in Progresso and a stop in Cozumel. Jill turned 30 at the end of last month. We went to Disney World last year when I turned 30. (To celebrate my maturity, you see. Nothing really celebrates getting older like whizzing around Space Mountain while pretending Star Trek is real and you are an important crew member (wearing a NOT red shirt) on some exciting mission in unchartered space. Yep. I'm a grown-up. I do want to mention that we did NOT go to Harry Potter land while in Florida. We thought about it. But I'm not sure I could handle that, to be honest. Not that I'd go nuts and start trying to use my novelty wand for real or anything (though there is a precedent for such behavior), but that it would all feel fake and cheap. I prefer that Hogwarts live in my imagination. It's safer in there. And it was about an extra $100, just to get in. Real Jamie response: I'm not that rich. Magical Jamie response: True magic cannot be bought with muggle money.)

Ten thousand parenthetical phrases later... back to the boat, which is how we decided to celebrate Jill's 30th birthday.

This was our boat: Carnival Elation

I thought our boat was big until I saw it parked next to a real boat, like this.
That boat is even bigger than my blog.

I don't think cruising is for me. I had a nice time, but I couldn't help think about how I would design my perfect cruise. It'd be a cruise for introverts. All tickets much be purchased online. A Myers-Briggs personality quiz would be required before purchase, and anyone with a result starting with an "e" will be blocked from the site. No one is allowed to book for a party larger than 2. No talking on deck. All deck chairs will be at least one extra deck-chair width apart. Instead of dances and talent shows (seriously, there were talent shows), there would be movies and reading time. All of the dining room tables would be booths with tall backs, and the waiters would not allowed be to talk to you about anything other than food. One waiter on our boat plopped down at a table, and belted out some romantic pop song. And sang the entire thing like he was auditioning for American Idol. That waiter would not get hired for my Introvert Cruise. The people that clapped and loved it would not be allowed as passengers on my cruise. One night, another waiter stopped at our table and, without a word, took away some of Jill's silverware. Silverware she needed, in order to eat like a non-cave-person. It was a little weird, but we appreciated the no talking. I would hire that waiter.

Moral of the story: I don't like people. Also, vacations that heavily incorporate make-believe are way better than vacations that don't.