And behind door number one..

The Karen Chronicles: Chapter Two: So then this happens.  (It actually happens before we checked our Newark-bound luggage but I am on a roll and can't fact check my own facts) As we're waiting in line to check in that uncheckable canvas bag(and  the two real suitcases) an agent that looked like Paul Rudd approached us. He says: "Mr. and Mrs. Amster..one of you will be checking in at the gate at 10:00..the other must check in at 9:30 for a special security search." Karenoia ran amok, as I was convinced that watch peddler from Pisa was his relative, event 'though the agent looked like Paul Rudd and the peddler looked like Tito Jackson if Tito Jackson's mouth had only one tooth in it. An enormous man behind me says:  "I have way over two million frequent flyer miles and I'm telling you right now, United is the WORST airline in the world and the worst for plus sized passengers.  Did you know they are making the seats smaller and making them ten across instead of nine?"  I answer, "did you know I'm about to board United?  Do you know if  they have a morgue on the plane?" Jim has his wits about him much more than I do, so he accompanies me to the security desk at 9:30 AM. Nobody from security is there and we were told to wait for an intercom announcement.  The announcement never came, so at 9:45, Jim says to me"Well..I guess you don't need that special security check after all."  A woman a few seats ahead says "Oh, that is still happening..the group already left!"  I SWEAR, there was NO announcement!  So we go back to the post and Paul Rudd shows up, all apologetic.  I wish I had videotaped the following but you are just going to have to trust me.  Paul Rudd says to me, "you, Karen Amster, may choose from any of these three bags you see before you.  Pick any one of them.  I will wait."  I feel like contestants feel on "Let's Make a Deal" and  I weigh my options:  A) Jim's backpack, which contained electronic gadgets that I could never identify should there be a pop  quiz. B) the red white and blue canvas bag, which SHOULD be in the cargo  underneath us now because it contains liquids!!  And I  haggled for it in Maine! C) my every day pocketbook which contains as much crap as a clogged toilet on the Royal Caribbean Brilliance of the Seas. (Not just a malfunctioning hairbrush and a notebook and pen to capture dysfunctionality, ala my traveling pocketbook) but the whole shebang.  I choose door number..er..option number three. I am escorted away..very far away from Jim. Paul Rudd just asked me to pick a bag..he never told me to bring a passport or boarding pass.  Nobody from the cruise is in this holding area, but then again, there were 2,500 passengers and 800 crew members aboard so I might have missed a face or two.  I follow an elderly gentleman because he seemed to be Newark bound and he looked like a  competent babysitter for me.  His name is coincidentally Paul, a retired welder who grew up outside of Philly but now lives in..oh, you couldn't possibly care about his background but you will care that Paul and I are seated in what looked like a doctor's waiting room in front of an eerie curtain.  Agents are coming out wearing gloves.  I am thinking, "everything  had better be sterilized if MY anal probe follows a retired welder's." A scary looking gloved woman calls me and takes me behind the curtain and asks for my passport.  I tell her:  "My husband has that.  He(I point to Paul Rudd) told me to choose between three bags so I did."  Paul Rudd owns up to his goof and races to find Jim who had my boarding pass and passport.  Now, you have to remember that I forgot to wear deodorant and was scared to death, so I started to take off my shirt.  The probers are snickering..I bet they thought with the lack of deodorant and the removing of my shirt I was preparing for my annual mammogram, which I get in February in NEW JERSEY, but this IS breast cancer awareness month, and also, I AM bat shit crazy.  So when they stop snickering, the gloved lady tells me to keep my shirt on and to stand up for a pat down.  She even touched my still-blistered-but-healing feet.  Afterward, she rifles through my pocketbook and x-rays it. I knew the most dangerous thing in there was mints I stole from Woodloch about four years ago, and apparently she did too, because in what seemed like a good forty minutes later, I was  fully clothed and reunited with my husband. So now I gotta probe(pun intended) my faithful readers and ask them if this is the most outrageous story I've shared this week. Or does it run neck and neck with the rash covered Parkway who gave Jim a lap dance in the hot tub??  Or..was it something else entirely?  Spill people, spill!

Luggage tales..

Greetings from the air, halfway across the Atlantic Ocean. It is costing me seventeen dollars to tell you this story.  I have time.  You have patience. We both could use a laugh, especially my friends in Florida. Oh, Facebook friends..dear Facebook friends..I am so not done with you yet.  Wait'll you get a load of this one. Take a deep breath and let's begin.  Even when departing the Royal Caribbean Brilliance of the Seas, life is never smooth sailing for we Amsters. And it shouldn't be. I decided to wear clothing more than once on this trip(and have laundry done for me) just to avoid packing another large suitcase.  I wanted my second suitcase, the one I needed to live out of for those two days in Barcelona to be small but heavy..something I could check in eventually.  And it was a piece of cake doing just that when departing Newark thirteen days ago. Let me tell you a little bit of history about my canvas red, white, and blue striped bag.  I saw it in an adorable shop in Ogunquit Maine in the early 90's, hanging from a ceiling hook.  The clerk saw me looking up and I asked her the price.  She said something like "Sixty dollars and I can get it down for you." I thought she was haggling so I asked her" how much?" She was embarrassed by her faux pas and gave me twenty dollars off of the bag, and she was not treated as a victim of Pit Bull Karen. Okay, that's enough history on the bag that was almost history. This bag, now containing dirty underwear and full unopened bottles of liquids(which was fine because it was never intended to be my carry on) did not make it to the luggage carousel. Jim decided to walk a mile or so to the end of the terminal to file a missing luggage report, and I am freaking out, wondering what was in there in addition to the dirty underwear.  I have now typed the phrase "dirty underwear" twice in one blog, I suddenly spot the bag but lose Jim..he's too far away to hear me.  So he returns, fifteen minutes later with that missing luggage report. I bark at him.  "There's that bag..go fetch it!" So he does..he runs another mile and then has to go back to cancel the lost luggage claim. Once again, we are the last people to board, earning every dirty look we got from people who needed to be at that airport on time. Oh, before I forget..I ran into Gloria before this disaster and I hugged her goodbye and  I said, "you know who you look like?" and before I could answer she says"Michelle Obama.  Everyone tells me that." Jim insists on taking a picture that you will never see unless Gloria accepts my Facebook request.  I packed everything--including multiple hair brushes, make up, and even deodorant stupidly in the large suitcase. I neither looked or smelled too pretty, so you have to wait to see Gloria. Guess who else I see at the airport?  Anita, my seat mate through the bus tour of Tuscany.  Turns out she spells it A-N-E-I-T-A but pronounces it the common way and you will not believe what her last name is until she accepts my Facebook request as proof. Her name is Anita(sp) Buss.  Anita Buss is what the Italian security guard called out to her co-worker when we followed Laurel and her floral shirt and wound up in that seaport instead of on the bus to Tuscany.  Bob and Laurel wound up on our airplane too, and yes, we followed  them but don't fret..we ARE Newark bound, but I wonder why our friends from Iowa and Minnesota are as well. We got to check our luggage and guess what?  They want to charge one hundred dollars for that damn red white and blue bag!  I haggled for nothing with that lady in Maine so Jim says "screw it, I'll carry it."  His shoulder is very achy..and don't forget, it was filled with no dos like full shampoo and creme rinse. This is going to take two parts but will be so worth it.  This is something that could only happen to us.

My big fat Greek vacation..

And NOW I gotta pen the bookend to the beginning in Barcelona. Blog, bathe, bitch..and pack.  I doubt I'll have too much to say after the evening activities anyway..I'd write the show "was fantastic" because it will be.  The onion soup was to die for!(Because it will be) But unless the cast of the "Before" trilogy show up in a non-fictional way, I am writing my last European blog..and confessing what a douche I am.  ANTHONY!!  His name is ANTHONY, not EBONY! I am so damn deaf!! I couldn't hear Hines even when it was just the four of us in an elevator! And I only found this out when we joined the husband Michael for trivia today and I asked"where is Ebony?" and he answered "who is Ebony?" I am an IDIOT..but I finally placed who he looks like, and it's the singer Pharell. I just saw a movie on a moving ship because I could.  And before anyone tells me they despise me, let's have full disclosure here:  As much as I enjoyed "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" when in came out in 2002, I  also agreed with the critic from "Entertainment Weekly" who put it on the Year's Worst list, saying it was a movie "everyone's grandmother would love."  Maybe if I hadn't read that review I wouldn't have agreed with it, because I did laugh at the original movie.. (Probably because it had the word "fat" in the title)  I gotta tell you about this movie going experience.  Yes, the movie was contrived and forced and predictable and dumb.  I don't like watching contrived humor, I only like  putting  it out  there myself.  But the experience was something else.  The movie was in English..with English subtitles. It was so damn weird!  The audience was over ninety percent American(or so it seemed) but these subtitles explained things that should be universal.  Like ("horn honking!") or, as a character is cooking meat, "Sound of cooking meat!"  Or..(my person favorite, when the guy takes out the Windex, which was a running and overdone gag from the original movie) "Sprays Windex!" There must be another word for this than "subtitles"..I just can't think of it.  Oh, and guess what part didn't have subtitles??  The stuff spoken in Greek!!  I was in Greece for maybe eight hours total  and all I know how to translate is "baklava" and maybe "Ola"..If they're going through all the trouble to subtitle "Toula coughs" when we can clearly hear her coughing, couldn't they translate those few lines that were in Greek with something other than " spoken in Greek?" OK...these are the things I am taking away from the trip.  I will limit it to ten things. 1) I hate heat, crowds, and vendors 2) I was so totally mistaken with all my pre-conceived notions of what a sight-seeing vacation is..obnoxiously so.. 3) I should have never been told there is a morgue on the ship 4) I'm as crazy as the watch vendor accused me of being 5) I am capable of much more physical activity than I thought I was walking..six miles a day! 6) Jim is the perfect lid to my insane pot 7) There is no way to accurately describe the blueness of water 8) The sequel to "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" wasn't as bad as critics said it was 9) I clean up nice 10) This really was, as everyone said it would be, the trip of a lifetime.  Thanks for all your comments.  As long as they keep coming, I'll keep writing! Love, Karen!

Bring them home..

Where we going? Barcelona! Oh..flight 18! It's a little too early to write the last chapter of this blog that's become a book, so I'll assume it's the penultimate chapter, because you know we're magnets for wackos and we'll probably meet a lot of them on this last day at sea.  And I guarantee someone on board is blogging this exact sentiment with US in mind. I worry so much about getting home because of all that DAMN STUFF I RECORDED AND WILL NEVER GET TO WATCH!! Wow, thanks to my wonderful cousin Nancy Gorewitz Cohn, who encouraged me to journal in the first place, who took a similar trip to this one last year, and most of all, told me that even when I'm angry I'm entertaining.  (Is that true, Nancy?  I can never tell)  So if you've liked my blog, thank Nancy and if you didn't, she lives in Florida so go find her and tell her off. My back spasms have stopped!! My vertigo is under control! My intestinal disorder is TMI! My rash is..well..scary as a Trump presidency but it doesn't really itch anymore. So my luck on the last day, I get an 'elfin' head  cold!! Congestion and coughing and why am I bothering??  Does anyone care about my physical health?  Mental yes, because that can affect blog commentary..I am fine.  Let's move on.  The show was spectacular last night and since this blog is turning into somewhat of a confessional, I cried a little..I missed my Mom so much  because she would have LOVED this one.  It was another salute to Broadway but this time it was all shows we've seen and loved, like "Chorus Line" and "Phantom." And anytime a gifted tenor does "Les Miz" I am weak at the knees. Especially "Bring Him Home." After dinner, we hooked up with Gloria again. (She is stunning! I didn't notice it at first in the hot tub with the Aussie kids.  I only notice rashes in hot tubs, ala Parkway's)  But she is..so Michelle Obama!! And thanks to her, we won something very useful in the Michael  Jackson Name That Tune Game--Royal Caribbean tote bags.  It'll be very useful since our luggage has to go in the hall tonight, tagged and ready(and yes, only someone like me will worry that a 90 pound suitcase will be stolen!!) but the tote bag will be great for the dirty stuff we'll do tonight.  OMG..I'm not even going to attempt to reword that! (I meant, of course, it'll hold the clothes I'll wear after luggage  pick up and the nightgown I'll sleep in tonight) Gloria actually won it for our team because there was a tie, and the winner was determined by a dance off.  She's not only beautiful but that girl can move! I will miss Dr. Kevin and Melinda..he is a walking CNN recap..I get all my news from him.  I'll even miss Duncan and Hines, but I see them so rarely that I forget what they look like.  We may see a movie just to say that we did.  "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" is playing at 4:00--it's supposedly a mediocre sequel to  the blockbuster but now that I've been to Greece I want to see it.  (Not that I'd recognize any scenery--I don't think it takes place in Greece-- but I haven't seen it yet so no spoilers) It's going to be hard to get back to reality.  I wonder if Jim can master the art of making animals out of towels once we're back in NJ?

Feeling the Blue Grotto..

Mid afternoon break and I was about to share with you how skippable Malta is..until the second part of the trip. Our first stop was yet another tourist trap of shops and ships, of me sitting on a bench swatting flies and giving the evil eye to smokers and occasionally looking up from my notes to nod and say, "yes, those fishing boats are pretty." Our guide sounded like Rosie from "The Jetsons" and had more hair under her arm than I have on my head, but I will not be mean because she was very pleasant with her discussion of figs, carob trees, citrus, prickly pears, oleander..I was writing as fast as I could and none of it was legible.  She called Malta the diving capital of the world, second only to Egypt and said the sea is filled with..either dolphins or orphans, hearing is not my most acute sense. Because I am a very high maintenance beyotch, I waited on the bus with the other octogenarians and became my old cynical self, all I did was swat flies all morning, blah blah blah.  I then become totally pre-occupied with a sign on the bus:  "No Food. No Drinks. No Ice Cream."  And I spent a good ten minutes trying to figure out what "ice cream" was if it wasn't food or drink. All I knew coming into this trip about Malta was Maltese Falcons and Matipoo dogs, like the one Jessica Simpson had that was devoured by a coyote. But then..oh then..Malta turned into paradise. (Finally, a new word instead of "breathtaking") We waited in line on a very steep ramp but Rosie from "The Jetsons" assured us we could take a cab back for one euro each..We almost killed the cabbie and his cab but I'm not going to dwell on that,  ("Dead battery, my foot!") We pile into these tiny boats, eight at a time, and we were told we were about to enter the Blue Grotto.  I am the only dork on board, therefore, the only one singing "It's a Small World" but then I shut up because everyone shut up.  I didn't get names, home towns, or even check for unusual skins rashes of any of my seat mates on the boat.  With the exception of trying to get in and out of the rocky little boat(and trying and eventually failing to put on a life jacket) Jim and I experienced what I thought was the best part of the trip so far.  We explored cool caves and the ocean breezes calmed me down.  I have officially run out of synonyms for "blue" so let me try to explain the water...Oh, I can't..Think of Sky-Blue popsicles and lime green jello shots and visible white sand underneath..if you think of that, you'll experience what we just did. I had my bathing suit on..I have no idea why I just didn't go in he water like so many on our tour did but I was fine.  I was a little humiliated about almost killing the cabbie and the cab, but I got over it and had mint chocolate gelato.  I am now safely on the ship, waiting for Barcelona.  But if you want, I'll blog some more later.

Trivia day.. With a parkway detour..

I was way too tired to blog last night, or to participate in "The Quest" which sounds an awful lot like Woodloch's Scavenger Hunt. (For instance:  Players had to run around looking for someone who had a SeaPass with the name "Richard" on it, so the wacky emcee named Tornado Tanya could say "There are only two Dicks in the house  tonight." ) We are still enjoying the company of Dr. Kevin and Melinda but it's very weird sitting in our semi circle, the four of us at a table for ten.  We're not exactly running out of things to talk about(last night's dinner table topic: "cremation") but..well..maybe we need some fresh faces other than Duncan and Hines. We are getting ready to explore a cave in Malta(and no, that's not a sexual euphemism) but now we're  convinced we're both coming home in body bags.  Don't worry about Evan being an orphan--he never reads the blog.  It all started yesterday when I rubbed my itchy left foot with my right and everything popped.  So I guess it was blisters after all..itchy ones on the TOP of my feet.  Never happened to me--or anyone--before. It's our first kind of drizzly day, and Jim and I decide to go to the hot tub.  The only ones in there were two beautiful Italian women with a combined weight of about..half of me..so we had lots of room and tons to say.  We look up to see THIS coming into the hot tub:  An elderly man, with white hair, a bit of a gut, big yellow teeth..and a  bright red rash covering every visible square inch of his body.  Alert people would have immediately left that hot tub, which wasn't really hot enough to kill anything like communicable diseases..  At first, Jim is laughing it off, whispering to me "There goes  your Patient Zero" but it wasn't all that funny.  (Well it was because it's making the blog but give me a sec)  I know I use a lot of real names so blog readers can get to know this cast of characters. I cannot use his name.  It is very unusual and he is an attorney so if this blog gets into the wrong hands(which it will not..nobody's sharing except that awesome Terri Seiple,) I will be in..(here we go Ro..my one forced joke of the day) ..hot water. Let's just call him Parkway, because he has the same  unusual first name as a famous Parkway in New England. Parkway looks at us and says "L'Shana Tova!" I have no idea how he knew we're still kind of Jewish, especially since we've gone to church/casinos and mosques this week.  So there he is, covered with rashes and a cough that sounded like he has very advanced TB.  He is a brilliant attorney and his cases(and real name) have been in a lot of magazines,  You have heard of the trials he's worked on but I'm not saying any more than that.  He was so fascinating, but he kept inching closer and closer to us with every fascinating story. There were plenty of seats in that hot tub, but he kept shimmying in, getting inches away from Jim, actually getting skin to skin at times.  I, of course, have the emotional maturity of an eight year old so I am trying to suppress a laugh and a cough.  Jim will not let me be rude(that ship has sailed) but how could I not laugh when Parkway(Patient Zero) was practically giving Jim a lap dance, while entertaining us thoroughly with tales of what it's like to have known some OJ lawyers on a first name basis.? It rained some more so we got out of the hot tub and Jim is ordering me not to laugh.  I decided to go to the next event(Trivia, where you had to ID photos of anyone from William Shakespeare to Lewis and Clark--Dr. Kevin was on our team so we won hats) in a damp bathing suit and cover up, but Jim said he wanted to go back to the room and change..and then added " and to take a bath in Purell" I think I woke up everyone on this floor with my violent cough. (I have taken more meds on this trip than I have all year..Naprosyn, Immodium, Ibuprofen, Benadryl, blister cream, and of course, a lot of meth from our lab before we left) but I am a walking health crisis.  Neither of us have flushed all week(in the middle of the night--we DO during the day..we are not  donkeys in Santorini!) because we don't want to awaken those poor bastards who have the misfortune to be our neighbors, and then Parkway exposes us to TB anyway. The show was TERRIFIC last night--there were many Elton John numbers(Jim's favorite singer) and the show was followed by a round of 80's music trivia.  Our team captain was Gloria from the hot tub(whom I met a few days ago and  before Patient Zero got in it) You remember Gloria who entertained a bunch of Aussie kids with me..the LA nurse who wouldn't watch the OJ series?  She is BEAUTIFUL..I noticed it on formal night.  She looks  and dresses like Michelle Obama. I want to be on her team again tonight when the theme is "Michael Jackson."  That is, if I'm not quarantined.  More after Malta!

Serving our country with distinction..

Day Nine: a Day at Sea.  And our first clogged toilet. (I'm willing to bet the problem didn't start in a neighboring stateroom) I did my pool exercises and said a prayer..that Bubonic Plague is not contagious. Trivia with Sally and Badger from the UK was kind of fun, but "Watson" himself might not know how many times the word "blood" is mentioned in "MacBeth"(42) or the exact height of the original Barbie. (11 and a half inches) I earned our team some points with my anagramming skills(anyone want to take a stab at "moon starer?") and I knew the sinking time of the Titanic because I've watched that movie about as often as I've registered a complaint in this travel journal, which means obviously more than once. I meet Jennifer and Tara from North Carolina. They are into leather. Tara talked a Turk(ooh!  tongue twister but it ends here) into selling her a leather jacket and even with custom tailoring she spent $110 euros. Jennifer talked about someone she knew from a bar that bought a wife from Malta or something like that. I probably have talked to all the 2,500 persons on this ship, or will  have talked with them by the time you read this CNN headline: "A mysterious case of an unidentifiable disease that manifests itself as bulbous bubbles on major limbs has baffled local medical experts, resulting in a quarantine for the entire crew and passengers  aboard the Royal Caribbean Brilliance".: So then this happens:  Jim attends a lecture about what to expect in Malta and I seek sun. A nice old lady in a motorized vehicle  parks next to me, poolside.  Her name, of course, is Betty, and she is from Illinois. I ask her how she's enjoying the trip and she looks at me like I'm a rabid pit bull. She asks if I've been paying attention to what's happening onboard.  (She is asking the wrong person) She asked if I felt the ship "turn around" in Italy. No, I had not but I mistake churches for casinos. OK..this part is NOT funny.. Betty's 66 year old daughter had a heart attack on board and was sent to some remote hospital in Italy(her 61 year old sister accompanied her) and there has been no communication with the staff that only speak Italian..  Betty mentioned something about a stent. Friends are helping Betty as is the wonderful staff on this ship. I shook her hand and told her I admired her bravery, and don't hesitate to ask me for help next time she runs into me with anything. (Because I'm sure she'd like some photos of my eyeball) OK..that's enough sadness..Betty and her girls will be fine, I think.  We run into honeymooning husbands Michael and Ebony and as soon as I found out they were honeymooners from Kentucky I broke the ice with a "f*ck that Kim Davis!" line.  They are apparently celebs here having stolen the show at the Newlywed-type game we missed the other night but caught later on TV.  They were talking about how much they loved Santorini(everyone did) when a woman with a thick accent butts right into us, mid-conversation and says:  "We took that donkey and thought the last tender was at six, not four, so we made everyone late."  She then walks away. as though she had merely asked us to direct her to the bar. Oh, before I forget, does anyone know what "spermology" is? It's a good "trivia" question but that's your only hint.  We then go to lunch and we're seated with..Betty, poor thing.  Her daughter's a cardiac patient in Italy and then she gets stuck with me again.  So we sit at the far end of the table.  With Jeremy and Ashley from Sacramento. Jermey has tattoos.  Many many tattoos.  I'm talking to Jim as an aside, saying that Jennifer and Tara said they liked their third deck stateroom because there is less seasickness, and Jeremy politely corrects me.  He says:  "I am an ex Marine and the truth is, it's the higher decks that cause nausea."  Jim asks where he has served and it was in Iraq, the Battle of Fallujah, , where he came face to face with a Suicide Bomber in 2004 but he didn't want to discuss his disability because life goes on.  I couldn't see the disability and I know he and Ashley walked about eight times as much as we did.  And then,,I don't know what got into me and Jim was afraid I was going to ask an ex-Marine who is now a COP the same thing you're all afraid I'd ask, but ask I did:  "So what do you think of the election?"  What do YOU think he thought??  Jim made me swear to be nice in this part of the blog because this man got injured protecting  us and our country, so I'll be nice. Jermey says:  "I don't care who wins as long as it's not (expletive deleted) Hillary."  Jim is begging me(with his eyes) to nip this in the bud so I did..I let him talk about Benghazi and "how Trump will run the country like he runs his businesses" and I just nodded and ate my teriyaki chicken.  I have no business baiting anyone, yet alone California cops who are ex-Marines with many many tattoos..

Medicine is the best medicine..

See?  If you open your mind you'll discover you really enjoy things you didn't think you would.  Last night's entertainment was a violinist. I have some issues with violins since I played it as a kid, and my friend's cats would scale the curtains in absolute fear just from the first three notes..  Also, the bus driver would yell things like "they have to bring the violins TODAY?" but even with all that trauma,I can say that real violinists are wonderful.  At least Hannah was.  She made me openly weep when she played the haunting tones from John Williams' "Schindler's List."  After the performance, Jim and I went to yet another music trivia night,  this one having 70's disco theme.  We got a score of nineteen out of thirty--not bad considering we wrote down "Donna Summer" for almost every artist.  Jim was stoned through the disco era and I spent it trying to find myself, so we weren't exactly the Bee Gees. We met Dr. Kevin and Melinda for another wonderful meal. (Duncan and Hines were no shows again..they were unprepared for 70's night and forgot  their afro wigs and bell bottoms, I guess) Dr. Kevin told us about their day in Santorini, where they ventured out on their own and took the cable car to the top of the mountain..and walked down.  He said the worst part of descending the nearly 500 steps at the end of the day was all the donkey crap on the steps.  Considering how many human beings were dumb enough to walk UP those 500-plus steps(and they were wide so there were many foot  steps between the steps) I'm guessing that some of those droppings weren't from donkeys. Santorini was a wonderful excursion, especially if you like wine and "The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants" but it's not a trip I'd recommend if you're not big on donkey dung. My Walking Pharmacy of a husband just left for the gym while I enjoy blogging and catching up on my Kindle from our balcony. (Jim is a Walking Pharmacy what with the crystal meth, and Ibuprofen, and DayQuil, and Aloe Vera, and (borrowed) Naprosyn(for back spasms) and (borrowed) Benadryl for foot blisters..and Immodium, and I am NOT going to put into an open blog that someone in this cabin needed Immodium, because someone in this cabin does not want to be quarantined. Since it's a slow morning(I'm usually rushing like the mad woman I am to capture the day's events in the few spare moments we have between tightly scheduled activities) I really should thank Christine Cherry Hommel for planning this trip, my Facebook friends for sharing it with me, and Jim for not taking no for an answer after two decades of begging me to come to Europe.  I will say mea culpa for all my misconceptions..This really has been the trip of a lifetime that everyone promised it would be.  (I don't know why I'm writing this like a final chapter--we still have Malta tomorrow--exploring caves by boat but it's 600 yards of walking uneven baby steps to get there!) but I can really go full stream of consciousness with this free time. And maybe this is a good time to say the three most important words I can say today..or ever.."Next stop, Woodloch!"

The sisterhood of the traveling Amsters..

I love taking excursions with wacko senior citizens.  They love to talk, and they love to tell you stories about how they left Chicago but instead of winding up in our departure destination, Barcelona, they landed in London and their luggage went to Houston and one guy from their group didn't get his stuff until we were in Turkey. I imagine my blog reads the same way but that won't stop me. Waking up in Santorini is a wake up call of a lifetime. Blue waters(why do I keep saying that?  Of course it's blue!) huge mountains(there I go again) and a shining white city atop of the mountain. (There ya go..there's  my original thought) We took a long and winding road and our somewhat robotic guide told us that the village of Oia was so isolated that babies couldn't even be delivered there..women in labor had to take a thirty five minute helicopter ride to Athens.  So I guess it wasn't the time to ask her if there was a doctor who specialized in blisters. The guide was OK, I don't know why I'm complaining.  She sounded like Charlie Brown's teacher, but then again, most guides do. The closer we got to the city the more beautiful it was.  Every building is white with blue roofs that blended in so beautifully with the Mediterranean background. We discover that "The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants" was filmed in this very location. And please don't be jealous Lexi Seitchik. (Lexi is my favorite of all my friend's kids, and she expressed some envy that I was going to Greece, especially because of this movie. ) You should not be jealous Lexi, because: 1) You wouldn't mistake a renowned piece of architecture for a sandcastle 2) you wouldn't think you were going into a casino when it was clearly a church 3) you have neither back spasms or cowlick hair 4) you didn't have to tour Tuscany with a stranger from Iowa because you followed a hick in a floral blouse to the wrong bus 5) you didn't have to boast about a grandfather who fought in the Spanish Civil War because yours did not, I met him 6) You were never obsessed with the concept of morgues on a ship 7) you never woke up the dead, ala the occupant of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier when YOU were ten and couldn't bear the heat 8) You can get into high bath tubs 9) you didn't turn into a pit bull when someone outside the Tower of Pisa tried to peddle a watch that you actually needed and finally, number 10) You would actually SAMPLE all the free wine at the winery tour.  So don't be envious Lex. You don't want to be me and have to worry about the meth lab business every day. Back to the trip..wow, is Santorini gorgeous!!  It is so gorgeous("How Gorgeous is it?") that Trump would allow it to work at his golf course.  (That's for you, BFF..my one stupid joke of the day) The panoramic views were like nothing you've ever seen before. And they were so high up they reached the sky. We could have taken a donkey up or down but I am an animal lover.  If you'll recall, I felt sorry for the stray dogs who sat on a bench with me in front of the Acropolis, and for that fly that will never see his kids again.  So therefore, I was not going to make a donkey carry me uphill for a measly carrot. A professional dancer on this cruise ship once walked DOWN and injured dancing muscles and was out of work for days.  I was not going to torture a poor donkey just so Jim could get his damn photo op. The people on my trip were very nice but they did tend to scream a lot every time the driver made those sharp turns on that steep mountain road. They have never driven with me, this was nothing. After taking some pics we went to a winery with an even prettier view.  Jim loved the white wine..and the olives and grapes and cheese.  I loved the A/C. We had to walk up many steps(I am going to lose your attention if I keep bitching about that..it's a small price to pay for this fantastic vacation) and had to take a cable car down..over the mountains and the ocean! It was quite thrilling..Tomorrow is a day at sea and then our last stop is Monday in Malta.  And as long as you keep reading, I'll keep writing.

Burn baby burn..

Greetings from beautiful Santorini Greece!  I am so looking forward to drinking in this beautiful place.  I should watch how I phrase things..I think I said the same thing about Tuscany--I don't literally mean "drinking"..I mean "taking in." (So why didn't I say that?  I have no idea) I'm looking forward to seeing anything but my bubble wrapped feet. OK, I wasn't going to say anything but because I was thinking this actually could be leprocy, I went to the ship's doctor. He didn't ask me what I weigh because I'm assuming he wants to live. He looked at my feet and said it looked like second degree burns.    Weirdly, he, the doctor,  diagnosed  me with sunburn.  I've had a million sunburns during my beach obsessed life, but none that resulted in itchy blisters.  I wish I weren't so vain because if I weren't, I would have let Jim video me trying to get into that thigh high shower with my foot wrapped in a plastic bag, But I'm OK, I really am.  I survived back spasms and heat stroke and getting verbally assaulted by a watch peddler in Pisa, so I can beat a few little bumps in the road.  I wound up discussing this with Dr. Kevin after all, even knowing how he feels about feet.  He assured me I won't be quarantined and to just watch that it doesn't get worse. He is on vacation--the dinner table conversation really needed to be about something other than my gross feet, but it quickly turned to current events, and I think most of America would agree that the election is more disgusting than my bubonic plague. Duncan and Hines showed up and I still can't hear her. at all. I wanted to include them, I really did, but I didn't feel right asking Hines if she had any foot issues, so I told her that her rosy sun-kissed cheeks matched her pink blouse.  She roared with laughter like I am Amy Schumer!  I don't know..I'm oblivious.  Maybe that WAS the funniest observation I made all week. We played a game called Majority Rules after dinner ..our team were these adorable husbands from Kentucky, Michael(who looked just like Ross the Intern) and Ebony. (who did not) They are from Kentucky and I'm betting neither are a fan of Kim Davis. The show was spectacular..tango dancers with an Argentinian theme,  I will post more after the tour..

An inspiring day.. No joke..

Turkey for you, Turkey for Me..I can't believe Mike Tyson gave that girl VD..Thanks, Adam Sandler, for my opening but now it's time to talk turkey. I am convinced the itchy bumps on my feet is bubonic plague. I don't want to be quarantined, because that's not fair to Dr. Ken and Melinda.  It's awkward enough that our table for ten only has four people(Duncan and Hines are still MIA) but if we get quarantined, Jim will file for divorce. Dr. Kevin and Melinda may opt out of dining with us anyway, since we gave them the link to my blog. Oh!!  I apologize for making last night seem like such a dud.  It wasn't. Sure, Jim blanked on the theme from "The Walking Dead" and I apparently slept through every episode I've ever watched of "Grey's Anatomy" (which was every episode of "Grey's Anatomy") but the fantastic headliner in the theater(oh, how I love when the amazing orchestra welcomes us nightly, playing the theme from "The Love Boat" against a background of glittery stars) was tailor made for me, He sang "being Alive" and "Bring Him Home" and "You Can't Stop the Beat" which are three of my favorite songs from three of my favorite musicals. ("Company" and "Les Miserables" and "Hairspray") I think a RC Cruise line member is buttering me up right before the quarantine. The plan today is to visit Ephesus, where we'll witness rug weaving. The tour description said we'd come back filled with "facts and culture" and I said to myself, "and bullets" since ours was the only cruise ship that felt safe enough to land in Turkey. We get to the point of departure and I see wheel chairs and canes and nobody under one hundred years old.  I see step stools for the first time to help we short people get on the coach bus. (Although I could audition for the Rockets by now, having learned to lift my legs sky high to get into the shower) On board, we were given water bottles and safety pins with a decorative bead on them and were told it was for warding off evil, and I was trying to figure how to put a safety pin into my itchy foot.  Oh yeah, I thought this trip with geriatrics and no crowds would be only something to make fun of, especially when every octogenarian seemed pre-occupied with the amount of steps and the temperature outside...And.... I couldn't have been more mistaken.  Turkey was the most eye opening, historically significant, and important excursion we've taken.  True, Greece was more pleasing to the eye(I will have dreams about rugs that look like dizzying kaleidoscopes tonight) but I walked away from the trip a changed woman.  It's about time, huh? Our guide looked like Jasmine from "Aladdin."  Her English was near perfect..as was her personality and devotion to feminist causes.  She asked everyone where they were from and then wanted to know this:  "Is anyone here from Philadelphia?"  I raise my hand and Jim quickly tries to stop me.  Our wonderful guide, Raife, (rhymes with "Taffy") comes closer to our seats.  She is smiling so I know she was joking, but she said she needed my help in finding a fugitive who apparently is hiding somewhere in southeastern Pennsylvania.  I tell her "all I remember about Philly is the cheese steaks!" and she whispers a name and walks away.  Jim, who watches stuff other than "Wheel of Fortune" bonus puzzles explains"that's the guy responsible for the coup!  Didn't you see it on CNN?The one that happened right after the bombing of the Istanbul airport?")  Raife tells us the entire history of this part of Turkey and I suddenly realize I'm in Asia! I've covered two continents in one trip! She is a very modern woman who prays five times daily for reasons akin to meditation. There are some women in her country who do not have that option.  Their job is to please men in the bedroom and kitchen, to work their knuckles to the bone weaving rugs all day and raising the kids while their husbands sit and drink tea and play cards all day in cafes.  The misogyny here could break you into tiny pieces. ..and this was all stuff I gathered just from the bus narration..long before we visited the mosque.  She asked the octogenarians and us:  "Who knows where the oldest rug in the world is found?" and I answer:  "My bedroom??"  Raife was clever, as she said her country is proud of Dr. Oz but embarrassed by the Kardashians. (aren't we all?) Our first stop was at a Turkish market where Jim had baklava and strong and bitter but delicious coffee before we saw a delightful show with a Cleopatra theme.  Raife talked to us a lot about her continuing education, and how she needs to raise her eight year old daughter as a feminist,  and how tough it was to grow up being one of four daughters.  Her father's chauvinism, nurtured by the culture, really socked it to her Mom's mental health. After the show, she took us to a private mosque but warned the seniors on the bus that it required walking up ten steps, and some stayed on the bus as a result, and I'm so glad I did not, because it was the most spiritually enlightening experience of my life. It makes my bubble wrap skin crawl when I think that Donald Trump wants to ban beautiful women like Raife from entering our free country. The day was completed with a visit to a carpet factory, where we sat on benches and watched weavers and drank complimentary apple tea.  It was a spectacular day..and an important one.  We were encouraged to test out the silks and wools of the woven tapestry in bare feet, but I didn't want to give all of Turkey bubonic plague.  Loved every minute of this trip! Oh, and please come to Turkey!  Tourism, their greatest industry is down seventy percent.  Turkey is bullied for being westernized..I cannot tell you how unfair that is.

Stop! In the name of Greece..

I forgot to tell you about last night.  We went to a "Name that Tune" event which drew a Woodlochian sized crowd.  The Woodloch staff would go off their collective onions if they saw how easy cruise ships make games like that--they (Woodloch)  work for MONTHS to make it difficult and challenging, and the cruise game  asks you to "Name That Tune!" and you write down Wilson Pickett's "Midnight Hour" 'cause that's the lyric they give you! A Russian ran the event and she was adorable, but she actually yells out"It's a Revolution!" when a UK mob assaulted her for not accepting "Johnnie B. Good" which does, in fact, sound a lot like the song they actually played. ("Fun Fun Fun" by the Beach Boys) I've have seen fights break out between Woodloch guests who disagree about an answer in "Name That Tune" or "Woodloch Goes to the Movies" that would rival any bloody battle that took place years ago between gladiators at the Coliseum. But thankfully, everyone on my team last night was polite and agreeable and listened to me, because my team consisted solely of Jim and me. I hear Diana Ross's voice and she's either saying "Don't Dream About Me" or "Don't Think About Me" and I tell Jim to write down one of them as our answer.  He says "I'm pretty sure that's from "Stop in the Name of Love" and I reply that I know "Stop in the Name of Love" like the back of my hand since it's my favorite song by the Supremes. So when the Russian read the answers and indeed said that the song with the lyric "Don't Dream About Me" WAS from  "Stop in the Name of Love" Jim just smiled.  He has seen Pit Bull Karen and knew when to just shut up.Yanni found me safe and sound and swatting flies just about the time the rest of the group were descending the stairs of the Parthenon.  He offered to take my picture with one of the stray dogs but I had no camera.  In fact, because I am face blind, I wasn't even sure this was our guide but he called me "Miss Karen" so yes, he got tipped nicely. I am talking nonsense when I should be describing Greece, the only reason I decided to come to Europe. I have seen beautiful seaside scenery before, especially in Maine, but nothing comes close to this.  First of all, we had a wonderful lunch in a beautiful hotel, The Metropolitan, in an open air courtyard. The food was wonderful but the ambience was even better..because you got to see the most beautiful city I've ever seen in my life!!   (And you ate  baklava) Yanni's narration was even easy to understand..he told us many historical facts about Athens and I actually paid attention..Socrates, Aristotle..you name it and I can tell you something about him.  And he told us stories of Greek mythology that were as sweet as bedtime stories your parents would read to you after you had a particularly bad day in pre school. We went to a place called Cape Sounion to see ruins (the ancient Greek Temple of Poseidon) but instead of being surround by sweaty brainwashed people like we were in the over crowded Vatican, these ruins were surrounded by magnificent sea  scenery. The bluest ocean, the quaintest fishing boats, bathers frolicking in calm waters and mountains that made you grateful you have your eyesight and your camera.   Karen Amster loved Greece so much ("how much did she?") that it's the one spot in all of Europe she'd definitely go back to.

Did you "hear" the one about the Acropolis?

Greece is the word and the word is love, love, love, LOVE Greece so much that I want to marry it and give our baby a name nobody can pronounce or spell. (Like Debbie M., the first casualty of "The View" or Zach G., who was funny when he was in the first "Hangover" and still fat but I'm too pressed for time to check out how to spell their names, and Spell Check will probably screw it up anyway) Time to infuse some positivity into my negative blog(and don't worry about Jim's fun--he is FINE and a happy wife is a happy life!) but there was no heat stroke or unruly cowlick or crowds of smokers or mob scenes with peddlers today.  Only pure joy and beauty.  Let's now refer to my many notes before we get ready for "Name That Tune--TV Theme Song" where we SHOULD win something other than high lighters.  Where to begin? We took a thirty minute ride through the charming towns with picturesque views and I even had Jim as my seat mate. We arrive at the majestic Acropolis, which I am enjoying thoroughly...by avoiding an asthma attack and sitting on a marble bench and I couldn't be happier.  I scaled twenty marble steps to get to the bench..that was enough of an adventure. The guide Yanni was the best guide ever..he looked like Stanley Tucci and had the compassion of a Mother Teresa..he made sure I was comfortable and safe.  I am seeing the Acropolis like a blind person would, and I have my earphones plugged in so all I'm missing is potential cardiac arrest. I have to go off track a little, big surprise.  How is it possible that Royal Caribbean Cruise Line randomly paired the ship's and world's  biggest hypochondriac with a former cruise ship doctor?? Dr. Kevin was explaining what it's like to be an ER doc over cordon bleu last night. He has seen it all..missing limbs and brains shooting out of skulls and there's only one thing and body part that makes him gag..you guessed it..Feet! And mine look like bubble wrap because of that damn sea water..or possibly a bug bite or food allergy but I'm not bothering Dr. Kevin with that. Duncan and Hines were once again MIA..I can't hear them anyway but I do know they've never left the ship and have only been seen at two dinners to sip wine. Here's is my contrivance of the day as I apologize to my BFF who begged me not to ruin the blog with forced jokes, but here it goes.  Cruising is apparently no piece of cake for Duncan and Hines.  I really thought maybe Hines (aka "Elizabeth") heard about me following a lunatic with a floral shirt and almost missing Tuscany  but then again, maybe my insanity isn't even on her radar. OK..so the morning's journaling wasn't ideal, because flies were landing on me like I am made up of ninety-nine percent sugar.  There was a wrinkly Greek in a kiosk that was more or less my babysitter as Jim ascended the stairs of the Acropolis.  (Jim could do it in a parka while wearing stilts and carrying bowling bowls, the showoff ! ) Anyway, the wrinkly kiosk Greek didn't want me blocking her stand, so she politely ordered me to move down a bench and wouldn't you know it, she didn't sell a single ticket anyway.  So I move down a bench, where a couple of mangy stray dogs jump up right beside me.  A woman comes over to feed one of them and tells me there used to be eleven of them, and all but three died off.  I think she wanted money, of which I had none, or a watch, which I didn't have because I treat peddlers at the Vatican like a pit bull would.  But normally I give money to people who help helpless dogs. I would have offered her my journal but that wouldn't have helped the hungry strays.  OK..I have to do this in two parts if you want the full Greek experience.

Dinky flop..

Oh, you lucky bastards with your allergies to shellfish, nuts, or penicillin! I am allergic to the Mediterranean Sea, or so it would seem since  every time I try the pool or hot tub I come out with itchy bumps.  We had a great lunch with a couple from Perth who sell hedges and plants that we "wouldn't know about because we have cold winters in NJ." Their home and pool sounded so beautiful...and they are a short walk away from a beach with sugar white sand and turquoise water.  I was in heaven and they add "it's the shark capital of the world--we lost two neighbors this year alone." Their adorable Aussie kids, Sophie and Blake, loved my "cute" American accent..they were so happy to hear how Americans talk--but I hope they get to dine with someone other than me, who never quite lost that Philly accent and the mispronounced vowels. The mom and dad, Tom and Lisette, asked me if I can tell what part of the country someone is from by the way they talk since there aren't too many regional dialects Down Under. I answer "yes, someone from Alabama sounds quite different from a New Yorker."  I add:" Jim is from Ohio and still has a mid-western speech pattern and even after nearly twenty-seven years of marriage, I can only understand about a third of what he says." We are having such a Woodlochian day at sea, even 'though I'm always itching about something. Today's theme is music from the 50's and 60's. We were OK with the Anagram Challenge(On Losers Glint is the Rolling Stones and Sourness of Hate is The Four Seasons. The Loose Dumby is a scrambled version of The Moody Blues.  If you leave a nice comment on my actual blog, I'll continue to give you challenging puzzles like "Dinky Flop," We didn't do very well at the next game. which was identifying 50's and 60's singers and bands by their photos.  It was interesting hearing Brits call out answers to UK bands, but people like us who think Donna Summer is Melba Moore don't deserve to win another yellow highlighter. And who besides us can't tell Connie Francis from Annette Funicello? So ignore me next time I boast about how pop culture savvy I am..what sane person can't tell the difference between Pat Boone and Eddie Fisher?

Zorba the "Geek"..

How lucky can a gal get?  I run a successful meth lab, I have a husband who understands my acquired humor, and I'm getting my underwear back in a few hours. I hope we see another real volcano en route to Greece today. (Yeah, I know..I'm so busy being a whiny bitch that I forgot to post something exciting..like we sailed by a volcano with steam coming out of it yesterday) Jim has been absorbing everything he can about our next destination. (He is AB-Sorba the Geek) C'mon, I can be contrived once every blog entry-- but let us proceed. We stopped at the excursions desk yesterday, basically to determine whether I'll survive Athens or not. I exaggerated my "sciatica" but the rep still said the trip might not be recommended for me but I'm not going to disappoint Jim! I AM going to Athens even if it kills me. I'm not even doing this just for him..part of the trip includes seeing seaside scenery(talk about a tongue twister, which we weren't so this is just me being ADD because there's a morgue on the ship)and I WANT to see things that the cast and crew of "Before Midnight" and "The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants" saw. If either of those films had taken place inside the Acropolis and showed old and/or out of shape people passing out by the 60th  crumbling step they would have been box office flops.  So I AM going to Greece, and paying extra to wait  alone in the museum, and taking the emergency numbers and Jim's cell just in case someone forgets about me. What are the odds that Royal Caribbean Cruise Line would pair us with a doctor (a former cruise ship doctor!!)and his wife who campaigns for HRC? Look, I'd like Dr. Kevin even if he ran a print shop in Pittsburgh because he is so funny and sweet and SMART and he  evidently likes beef. But he's a great doctor, and a non biased one. We had this wonderful meal(Duncan and Hines showed up but mostly to smile and nod politely and sip wine) but we mostly talked to Dr. Kevin and Melinda while looking at a dining room full of people in stunning gowns and tuxedos. I was so comfortable with Kevin and Melinda that I told them the one funny medically related story I have in my repertoire.  (You remember this:  I had a C-section but had to have a house full of people who came to celebrate Evan's birth and bris, and I was trying to be discreet even with fresh incision pain.  A friend asked me how I felt and I answer:  "OK, but my cut hurts"  Her  jaw drops, eyes widen,  and then says "that's from the episiotomy--it'll go away"  I reply:  "I  had a C-section and there was no episiotomy " and she got embarrassed and said, "Oh..your CUT hurts!") I repeat this just to tell you I am comfortable being myself around Dr. Kevin and Melinda...I was so much myself that when I backed out of the chair(wearing my black and white striped gown) he noticed how much pain I was in before Jim did. The back pain HAD subsided but came back with a vengeance on formal night..a vengeance I could not mask. (Jim thinks it was from moving my seat back and forth so the wait staff had more room) In any event, back pain is not fun.  These two angels went straight to their state room  and came back with Naprosym and handed me some that should get me through the next few days. Now, I'm usually sarcastic when I say "Thank you, Doctor!" but Dr. Kevin(the one who told me there are morgues on ships) stopped the spasms. I can live with the steady  or dull ache but I'd rather ascend the steps of the acropolis in the heat than have back spasms(I realize how ridiculous I sound..about as bad as people who will vote for Hillary because she's the "lesser of two evils" when clearly, Trump is climbing the acropolis in 102 degree heat while carrying a suitcase full of anvils while wearing high heels. and Hillary's "my back hurts a little")  Thanks to Dr. Kevin, I got to sit and enjoy the show called "From Blue Eyes to Buble" but he didn't do much Sinatra...he did Elvis.  Jim asked:  "Did Elvis Presley have blue eyes?" and I answered"he had blood shot eyes" and added: "But he had  blue suede shoes"  and with that, we both drifted into a wonderful and deep sleep.

Waiter.. There's a fly on my ship..

Those "sensitive pipes" signs are everywhere now, insisting that nothing but minimal toilet paper and "human waste" may be flushed. So where does that leave vomit?  Or the hair you shave from your legs? Jim just attended a lecture on what to expect on your tour of Greece.  I expect to wait in the museum(for extra euros) while he climbs 200 steps that are crooked and have no railing.  I expect to stay in that museum for the rest of my natural life. The only way I'll be OK about dying in Greece is if the cause of death is happiness..which will happen if they film another sequel to "Before Midnight" here. I should be whining about heat and humidity but I am two feet away from the pool.  Jim wants to know why I'm so kvetchy about heat while walking up steep inclines in crumbling cities, but not while I'm in a bathing suit near a pool.  Anyone want to take this one? He is obsessing about his pictures of pictures and I'm thinking I'd settle for a tiny splash pool in the Acropolis. Today I met Gloria, a nurse from LA in the hot tub. She's treated some celebs, like Pia Zadora and "that guy who took an outdoor shower with Samantha in the first "Sex and the City" movie(I remembered Gilles Marinari, or something like that) and also, she treated "Angela Bassett's" husband.  I answered too quickly..I blurt out "Laurence Fishburne!" but then realized he was her movie husband, he was Ike to her Tina Turner and I corrected myself in a split second.  I offer, "Courtney B. Vance was brilliant as Johnnie Cochran!" and she answers, "I don't care how many Emmys it got..I wouldn't watch a TV series about that mother f*cking OJ Simpson!" Five Australian kids join us in the hot tub just after Gloria dropped an F-bomb. They thought I had a cute way of "talking American" but you should have heard THEM.  They were bright and outgoing and adorable and they only met on this trip. (Australian kids are on Spring break in case you tend to mix up your hemispheres) One of them, Ava I think, says she loves looking at statues and sculptures and is so glad she's ten because "things like that might have bored me when I was eight." I was afraid to tell her that at age sixty, I think like she did two years ago so to break the ice I made everyone tell me their names and ages which they did in precious Aussie accents. The tweens were Lily, Ava, Zane, (who is a precocious six year old who wanted to swim in the hot tub) Mikalya and Zoe. I told them I need their names because I like to write journals about my vacation adventures but Zoe begged me not to mention her name so don't tell her I did. The pool was so refreshing and for you people who read me regularly, this pool was made of salt water, and you know how..um..free I can be in ocean water, but I promise, I just used the pool for water exercise and swimming. And for the love of Poseidon, you should see the guys who just entered themselves in the Sexiest Man On Board contest. And I thought MY brain was fried from the heat! They strutted their stuff like they resurrected Michelangelo himself to sculpt their physiques.  I didn't concentrate on the contest because I don't pay attention and there is a morgue on the ship, but Jim paid attention.  He comes back and tells me the winner was this extroverted six year old named Zane..the one swimming in the hot tub just a few minutes earlier. I haven't seen Duncan and Hines since day one, because I think she freaked out about sharing a dining experience with some  weirdo who saw the most famous sculpture in Barcelona and assumed it was an obviously MALE sandcastle. I didn't see Hines, no I didn't, but I did see GORGEOUS sights as we sailed between Sicily and southern Italy.  I can't tell you which was which because I have dyslexia when it comes to direction.  Oh, guess what else I saw on the pool deck?  A FLY!! I asked myself, "did he board in Barcelona? Or was it in France? " Even if he got on as recently as Italy, he's never gonna see his family again.

If it's Tuesday.. It must be a day at sea..

If it's Tuesday This Must be Belgium. If you're under forty you Must Be Googling. If you've been paying attention to the blog about things other than my constant complaining about humidity, you know we're on a Mediterranean  cruise so we're not going anywhere near Belgium, but how could I resist? What a much needed day off this will be!!  Relaxing for a fun filled, activity laden day at sea.  Have you been to Woodloch Pines?  A cruise is like Woodloch on the sea. (I've been dying to make that inside joke for awhile) Sight seeing can be fun, don't get me wrong. I especially loved Rome, where we saw an incredibly modern city from the bus vantage point..and then the old ancient Rome on foot.  For years I've been pooh poohing site seeing trips, saying(now that I'm here doing it) STUPID things like "if I wanted to see the Leaning Tower of Pisa" I could use Google.  It IS very different seeing it live.  The sights in Rome made me feel spiritual. The only problem with the ten day excursions is that it's hard to hear your guide.  Their accents are thick and their radios don't work all that well.  Plus there are so many mobs of people!! And I'm scared every second that Jim stops for a photo op that he'll lose the photo--or the group--or me.  You have to be vigilant about pickpockets(again--if they want to take my hairbrush, go right ahead) but you have to memorize the clothing of everyone in your group so you can keep up.  I do wonder if those people who got lost in Monte Carlo ever were found since they were on their own. I have some nice things for formal night tonight and yes Andi, you didn't stay up at night ordering from catalogues for nothing--I won't disappoint you. My formal night clothes are the only things I haven't sent out to be laundered! I'm getting off track again..I started my saying that sight seeing vacations are better than I thought they'd be, even when walking SIX MILES daily, but I still like these Woodlochian days where I can show off my pop culture mastery..and I love having just Jim on my team..there are no arguments.  In fact, we only get snippy over two issues--his incredible intolerance to fatigue(and hunger) and mine to heat. We saw a terrific singer last night..her "You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman" almost.(.ok Rochelle Polonsky Napoli, one last "forced" joke because it works)--her voice almost blew me out of the water. Then we had great conversation and fabulous food with Dr. Kevin and Melinda(we seemed to have lost Duncan and Hines) followed by a night of movie trivia where we were one point shy of a win. We had to identify five movie theme songs and then five movie clips(very Woodlochian) and then five movies just by their doctored  posters, followed by random and repeated clips from ten different animated movies that we had to list in no particular order.  Very unWoodlochian, but these last two things are something they should do in the Woodloch Goes to the Movies Game if you want to pass that on, Christina Giarrusso Bower.  I can't wait to get in the pool today..and have a fantastic lunch..maybe attend a Big Band music game although truth be told all Big Band music sounds alike to me.  See how much I have to say even when I have nothing to say? Is anyone still reading the blog ?

Where's the real David?

OK..Back for part two and to tell you the hell with heat and crowds and vendors who question my sanity. ('though truth be told, I DO need a new watch) Tonight was fantastic!!  Tonight this cruise became Woodloch Pines and you know in my mind, nothing is better than that.  Jim and I were a team of two for "Broadway Name That Tune"(we called our team name Guy&Doll )and we won!!  A Royal Caribbean yellow high liter and it's all because Jim remembered that "Big Spender" was from "Sweet Charity." We go from there to a spectacular Broadway show although we barely knew any of the numbers except those from "Mama Mia!" which we sung along to.  I have to get up at 6:00 to tour the Seven Hills of Rome and I'm already dreading the seven steps on the coach bus, but I did promise to tell you about stuff other than heat, crowds, and vendors. So here goes.

Penises. We saw so many penises on statues.  They even surrounded us at this terrific lunch(tiramisu for dessert!) in a castle but I'm avoiding majestic castles from now on because there are too many complicated yet tastefully decorated mazes you need to go through in order to find a bathroom,  Jim wanted me to get his pic in front of David but I was too hot so I kind of got a full Him but a half David--the Fully Monty half. There were tons of runners in t-shirts, making the crowds look like everyone was escaping an alien invasion.  I kept hearing church bell music and everyone is thrilled but I kept thinking the first couple of notes sounded like the theme from "Spongebob Squarepants" When we arrived at lunch, we were told two from our group were still missing and I can't tell you how close that came to being us.  It's your photo op or your wife--you can't have both because of the crowds and heat. It was so hot there("How Hot Was It?") that half the crowd sought shade while our guide, who spoke like he was speaking underwater, gave us some information about the Arno River and what's my husband do but keeps asking this guy questions!!  Questions about Roman Magistrates, mind you.  Our group would have forgiven him if he asked where the closest place with air conditioning was but nope, he has to ask questions like he's studying for a Doctorate in Ancient Roman  History.  Why couldn't I have married a plumber? The Leaning Tower of Pisa really was surreal to see up close.  Our guide told us it is still moving..at least an inch a year and yes, you may insert your Lazy Karen joke here.  Thanks for planning Rome, Christine Cherry Hommel..I'll let you know how it goes.

If you can't stand the heat.. Get out of Rome..

Day Six:  I have survived.  No need to cut off my arm with a pocketknife.  Actually, I LOVED Rome!  It's been my favorite place so far Christine Cherry Hommel! I don't even worry about pickpockets, because my handbag lost 79 pounds. All that I carry is a malfunctioning hairbrush(damn you, crazy cowlick!) and a notebook for  blogging about my dysfunctionality.. (Damn you, crazy Levson DNA!) The Eternal City meant Eternal Walking..I was only truly bothered when walking up very unstable steps in terrible heat after the wonderful tour of the Coliseum. Oh, and for you judgmental twerps who think my zero tolerance for heat(less than zero--thirty degrees below zero) is due to my age or weight, let me tell you that half a century ago I was a ten year old skinny  girl.  My Mom made me accompany my brother on a Cub Scout trip to Washington DC..where we toured lots and lots of monuments.. in lots and lots of humidity.  My heat induced crankiness was so loud by the last stop that I think I may have awoken the occupant in the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. (His name is Herbie, by the way, and his family operated a dry cleaning business just outside of Dayton, Ohio) I have the snarky malcontent personality of a food obsessed Jim Gaffigan and the OCD of Lena Dunham and I will apologize for neither. But I do think I need a leash to help me through the crowds. I LOVED the Trevi Fountain and wanted to splash around it. Funny, I am an extrovert and I'm used to saying "I'm Karen from NJ".. or "What's your name and where are you from?"  On this trip, it's just a series of "What flavor Gelato are you having and do you think it's time I give the pineapple  a go?" Again, loved touring the Coliseum and learning about, as Elizabeth Taylor  said at the Golden Globe awards, "Gladiator(s)!" The Sistine Chapel was a little too hot to appreciate. Jim found it to be something he didn't expect--an odd patchwork production of glorious artwork.  As for me, I was just worried how he stayed flat on his back all those years. Dude seriously needed some  of my dwindling supply of Ibuprofen. Our guide was patient and audible.  (Well, mostly audible..the radios don't work very well and there's so much outside noise) She did say the word "toilet" a but it was in proper context. While we were waiting to board the return bus several different hunched over women with canes begged for money.  They all had beards, which made me suspicious, but it's Italy  so maybe they were NOT muggers in drag.  The woman from NJ who witnessed my pit bull attack on the watch peddler who called me crazy in Pisa yesterday(and yes, I do need a new watch) sat next to me and said "Wow..that was amazing and I'm not even Catholic. I am Protestant..what are you?" I answer "I'm not religious but I was raised Jewish" and she replies"You must hate it here." I eagerly await two days at sea...And I hope if we play something as fun as last night's Broadway Name that Tune Game" that Jim will stop checking results of his Fantasy Football team

Thumbless in Miami..

Heat. Crowds. Vendors. Heat. Crowds. Vendors. HEAT! CROWDS! VENDORS! By the time the last vendor tried to sell me a watch as we were boarding the bus from Pisa, I turned into Pitbull Karen, much to the horror of Jerseyites Gail and Nancy.  I kept barking NO! NO! NO! and finally he says "You Madame are crazy!" and I reply, "Buddy, you don't know the half of it.   I've gone to the most famous attraction in all of Spain and saw only a sandcastle with a penis."OK, Christine Cherry Hommel, that's the bad part of the excursion..the heat, crowds, and VENDORS,  Now onto the "it could only happen to us" stuff. I starting taking these  notes while sitting in a plaza in front of Michelangelo's tomb.  The notes took about an hour but I had to capture fresh details. We had just been driven over two hours on an air conditioned coach bus, seeing all the natural beauty of Tuscany, where the mountains are covered in marble that looks like snow. It was as beautiful as you are imagining, and I shared the entire experience with Anita from Iowa.  Anita from Iowa is not my husband but give me a moment to collect my thoughts. First, before I tell you why I was sitting with Anita from Iowa I have to tell you I had a childhood pen-pal from Anita, Iowa, that I was matched up with via "Teen" magazine, the subscription to said magazine being a bat mitzvah gift from my cousin Cheri Peltzman Gardner. I exchanged many letters with Lori from Anita when we were 13. One of us described sexual adventures, saying things like "he put his hand down my overalls and touched my "you know what" and I lost my virginity at age twelve." The other was a geek with braces.. OK,,so now that my head is clear I can tell you why I sat next to Anita from Iowa while taking in Southern Italy. So we get a wake up call at 6:00 M, and we are ready for our Big Adventure.  Oh, by the way, if you were me, would you let a pleasant woman from the Philippines wash your underwear and shorts?  If you were me, would you have won a Royal Carribbean Pen at Motown Trivia night, getting every song but "Needle in a Haystack?" If you were me, would you listen to Dr. Kevin("there's a morgue on the ship!") tell you a story of a crew member who amputated his own thumb and had to be medi-vac'd to Miami and you thought:"I'd rather be thumbless than in Miami?" Oh readers, I'm losing my patience with you..you're not me so you can't possibly answer any of the above. I now have to tell you why Jim, who just interrupted me to say "I took a dump in Florence and couldn't figure out how to wash my hands!" was not my seat mate during that two hour scenic drive. We're up at 6:00 and meet at the theater, the designated departure place and meet Bob and Laurel, which would have been my parents' names if my Dad wasn't E. Michael("Mike"). Bob talked like John Candy or my brother in law Bill from Chicago. He's some kind of banker from Minnesota. His wive Laurel wore a pink floral shirt,  the significance of that will be evident in a sec. So we disembark and get attacked by photographers who want photos of us in from of life preservers and anchors and Jim says"We're going to lose our group!" and the photographer says "one second sir!" and I see Laurel's pink floral shirt and I say..Follow her.  This is group Two with the orange stickers.  We follow them, and we have to stand, and Jim is concerned about my back but someone says the ride is only two minutes until we get on another mode of transportation.  Ooh..you guys are gonna love this....So we get on what we thought was a bus to Tuscany.  We get off the shuttle and watch it pull away.  We then see that we are in a terminal..for sea going passengers.  Poor Bob is saying "why wasn't there a sign telling Number Two people where to go?"  Jim is dialing the emergency number of Royal Caribbean and gets someone in Miami who wants to know how his stateroom is.  Laurel in the floral shirt isn't saying a word, and the workers at the terminal don't speak any English.  Well, I'm betting that because I went to three different churches in two days, the shuttle came back, The coach bus HAD left without us but got as far as the parking lot.  Someone said "oh, there are the five latecomers but it was only Jim and me and the Minnesotans, so I'm guessing the fifth guy didn't go to church yesterday or ever. We get a few dirty looks as we get on--we were, after all, making people ten minutes late for HEAT and CROWDS and VENDORS, and one guy says "well..at least you're better off than those three passengers who went to Monte Carlo yesterday..they were NEVER found" and another guy says "I like this guide better than yesterday's because you can understand her." (Which I could not) One Australian hears Jim say he's pissed and she says"Be like Elsa and just "let it Go!" So Jim is all the way in the back with the Minnesotans, and I'm with Anita who had to do all the things Jim usually does, like show me how to use the radio. We arrive at the plaza and I see that our dinner friends have been on our bus the entire time.  I figure I had nothing to lose by saying to Dr. Kevin, "I can't stop thinking about morgues on the ship."  He politely laughs and says "What do you think happens to dead people on cruise ships?" and I answer "they're thrown overboard?"  He says yes, that happens , especially with terminal patients who sign certificates in advance. I say to Jim that if we run out of Ibuprofen and I'm still having back spasms, he'll have to get Dr. Kevin's help.  Jim reasons that Dr. Kevin is a vacationer, not the ship's doctor,  so he can't sign a  permission slip, but I meant help throwing me overboard. Kevin's wife reminds me of you,  Bonnie Santonello Satty..spitting image! We are late for dinner and Broadway Name that Tune and a Broadway show..I'll post Part Two later.

Free Julius!

This was my favorite day so far, even though I saw no Coneheads and  did not have to inform a single soul that I have a dog named Luke. I did get to dip my toes into the cool Mediterranean waters(this photo was not as nice as some of the beaches we saw) and I explored the promenade and marveled at all the artisans plying their crafts. I had to take several breaks as I'm apparently on the Ibuprofen Tour de France..ugh..me and my stubbornness with unpacking that damn suitcase. I am taking enough Ibuprofen to dull the ache and  at the same time make me eligible for the Betty Ford clinic, but I took in all the sights and smells while Jim watched some yachts. And if wishes come true, many  local pulmonary docs are going to get quite wealthy from all their newly diagnosed emphysema patients.  Second hand smoke bothers me more than back pain. We finally find the famous theater and the walk of stars..reminds me of when I did a similar tour in 1987 with James Donio in Hollywood....hmm..I was pointing to Betty White and he was stepping on?? Hmm..I forget...Jim met some vacationers who were determined to find the red carpet but all we saw was a grey parking garage. But I did see a poster with Ethan Hawke, and this wouldn't be my blog unless I mentioned him. We soon board a mercifully air conditioned bus with people with canes and wheelchairs, where the average age was 92 and the average weight was 432 kilos. My peeps! We tour the beautiful French Riviera, and our guide is pointing out areas where Jack Nicholson and the couple formerly known as Brangelina had homes.  I was having difficulty concentrating(there's a morgue on the ship!) but she said something else about Julius Ceasar and his son-in-law who committed suicide here because of an unfaithful wife or something like that.  Jim hates when I mix facts up but THERE IS A MORGUE ON THE SHIP!.We then head out for a beautiful little town called Frejus and if you've seen "Beauty and the Beast" you've seen this town, what with all the baguettes and cobblestone streets and central fountain  and turrets. And look, I know I don't pay attention(because there is a MORGUE on this ship) and we drove by many signs that said "Casino" and here in this charming little town square, I thought we were going to a genuine gaming  Casino.  I should have remembered that from Guadeloupe.."Casino" is a supermarket chain..so where do we wind up but another church.  Jesus H Christ, my third church in two days.  Jim was fascinated by the architecture and acoustics but I couldn't stop thinking about the ice cream, (and the morgue on the ship)  The ice cream was the most amazing thing I ever tasted..I had to order a second scoop but the poor scooper was so confused.  The point is, if you ever get to Frejus, and you are upset because you thought you were going to a casino instead of a church, order the lime. It is even better than the strawberry. Next we stop at a seaside resort called St. Raphael..It had a huge ferris wheel and I vengefully pictured all these half dead senior citizens on it. (Because one was mean to me and claimed I stole his seat)..we buy a refrigerator magnet which caused a little bit of a security thing when we tried to board the ship but I digress. There was a bathroom in town, but the shopkeeper told me the door was malfunctioning.  It wasn't malfunctioning..there was no door.  And damn Jim and forty pound weight loss because years ago, he could have blocked me while this entire town went on with their business as I did mine.. We did find another bathroom.on the beach.  There was a sign that read "It's Forbidden to Wash Their Feet" and nothing flushed.  (But it was better than the doorless toilet, where nothing flushed for what looked like two weeks) That "Forbidden to Wash Feet" sign scared the daylights out of me.  The last part of the trip was the best..(besides the ice cream)  We drove through all the wealthiest communities in the French Riviera, and we saw beautiful homes and pools and mountainsides..mostly those red mountains(from lava, apparently) peppered with greenery and sparkling blue sea.  Yes, Christine Cherry Hommel, I absolutely LOVED sight seeing! People compared the view to ones you'd see in Colorado or Utah. Tomorrow I wake up in Florence. Rumor has it that Barry Williams uttered the same promise to himself almost daily during the second or third season of  filming "The Brady Bunch"

There is a doctor in the house..

I have to admit for the first time in my life that I am totally jealous of acrobats.  They do things with hoops and scarves.  I can't use them properly when they're merely fashion accessories, but I'm mostly jealous because there's no way any of these jaw droppingly talented Russians and what have you's are going to have trouble getting into a thigh high bathtub.  My back was killing me (from bending over and unloading the suitcase..my goodness, it's not like I was hanging from a hula hoop) but I'm so glad we went to this wonderful evening show, where I was given a taste of Royal Caribbean Brilliance and I love what I sampled.  The Cruise Director is a female--from Ireland--named Chlo. (not Chloe, but at least her spelling beats Ms.Kardashian's)  She was so funny and personable and halfway through her intro quips:  "And all you men out there, you're only onboard because your wives made you come and made all the arrangements..you barely know what ship you're on."  The audience laughed, but I didn't laugh because he never got out of the kaka doody car..oops..wrong script..because it's just the opposite in this family.  Look, some wives have to learn to cook exotic dishes with stuff like saffron, or learn sexual positions that only a contortionist could master, but all I had to do was agree to go to Europe.  Jim has never denied me a book, a meal, or a movie..he let me live out a fantasy of sharing Woodloch with my family and all he ever asked in return was that I agree to come here.  So I am, and even with tubs as deep as newly dug graves, I am thoroughly enjoying myself. We met the two couples we'll be dining with.  I think there are supposed to be ten of us in all, but only half the table was full. We sit next to a couple who didn't want to say a single word to us. They are from Scotland, I think, but I couldn't hear them, and that could be because the restaurant was noisy or because I'm a little deaf or because they actually weren't answering my questions.  And I should know better than to ask personal questions after asking a woman earlier today how she liked Paris and then she tells me she was robbed.  I kept picturing a very awkward week, but the couple next to them, Kevin and Melinda..well..those guys were awesome.  We connected right away, but I found myself yelling across the table and trying to include the Scottish couple into a conversation that I don't think they wanted any parts of.  The Pittsburgh couple were right up our alley..she works for the Clinton campaign and he's a doctor.  Turns out he used to be a ship doctor, on Holland American Cruise Line. And he was telling us it was a tough job, every dinner was interrupted, and I asked him what was the worst thing that ever happened to a patient, and he told me he dealt with two heart attack victims,  I asked him how they recovered and he told me they didn't, they both died.  He went on to explain that ships have morgues and you're lucky if you don't die in international waters and blah blah blah, he lost me at "morgue." I guess I pretty much do have a case of OCD because I could concentrate on nothing else once he revealed that there might be dead people nearby.  He and Jim were bonding over sports --Jets fan versus a Steelers fan but I couldn't concentrate.  I did NOT want to be morbid but it's like saying I do NOT want to be five feet, two inches tall.  I am what I am, and what I am is someone who is equally repelled and fascinated by the fact that cruise ships have morgues. Tonight, in my dreams, I'm sure I'll see Dead  People.  But I'll wake up and be in the French Riviera, so I can't complain. But I will because I am me. Jim just reminded me that the Scottish guy's name is Duncan.  I'm guessing his wife is Hines.  Thanks again Christine Cherry Hommel for the chocolate dipped strawberries..and for planning this trip of a lifetime.

Pass the muster..

even the tiniest moments need to get updated while the memories are still fresh.  I'm not getting my step stool--it's apparently a safety hazard.  Jim demonstrated how I have to sit on the edge and shimmy myself down into the base, which sounds even  like more of a safety hazard.  We just did the muster thing, where we once again lectured about the amount of toilet paper we'll be permitted to use. We were told we're not allowed to clog the toilet with too much toilet paper or feminine hygiene products.  OK, that I get, but then they added:  No diapers, jewelry, and deck chairs."  Oh, and I can't hand wash anything and put it on the balcony in case some moron breaks the non-smoking rule and tosses a lit butt over the deck.  I can see the headline now:  "New Jersey Homemaker's Granny Panties Cause Major Explosion Aboard the Royal Caribbean Brilliance." (No cracks about "hot pants" because that's forced humor and my BFF might not read this blog if the humor is contrived.)  We sat at this muster thing with a very nice couple who were on Leg Two of their European Vacation.  I ask the woman how she liked Paris and she replies with this: "I come straight out of Compton and nobody ever stole my wallet until I went to Versailles."  I think I better refrain from asking personal questions..

The Dublin driver, Little Jim and the stateroom..

An interesting morning so far..our cab driver had the wrong hotel but eventually found us. He is from Dublin and was telling us about the rampant crime scene that one used to find in the drug-infested Barcelona. He and his wife and his friend were once leaving a bar when three Moroccans grabbed the guy and picked him up in the air and started hauling him away- which couldn't have happened if he had been nursing Gelatos. But Driver retrieved some broken Guiness bottles from a Dumpster, which was enough to have his friend returned in one piece. We board, and everything's smooth sailing until Jim comes face to face with this big burly security guy. He takes him aside and mumbles something in Spanish before pointing downward, I'm thinking, : "shit..someone's gonna confiscate Little Jim for twelve days" and then thought"at least it's not my straightening iron." Turns out Security Guy was trying to tell Jim that his fly was open.  Things like this I should notice. Since I've been having all these religious experiences, what with going to church twice yesterday, I was wondering why we believe(especially those among us who unequivocally believe) that hell is DOWN and heaven is UP. Whomever came up with this concept obviously never scaled 15 staircases of never ending  steps at a park in Barcelona. I was thinking about the woman who was practically having an orgasm in front of Sagrada Familia.  She had her camera hoisted and tears in her eyes and kept repeating over and over again, "wow..wow..just..WOW!" I was wondering if she, too, saw a sandcastle with penises and had Turrets Syndrome as well. I saw her again, oohing and aching over the stained glass and museum relics and I could only think that in a few short hours I'd be just like her--oohing and aahing over FOOD on the Tapas tour. (Yes, Christine Cherry Hommel, it was fun) What is more awe inspiring than food? But I could NOT have predicted that in a few short hours I'd be walking around in heat..in a meat market. I thought I'd break up the monotony by telling every fish peddler that my grandfather died here in Spain. My Dad always said that my grandfather Albert Levson died battling the regime of Generalissimo Francisco Franco, but now I'm thinking his actual cause of death was touring those endless stands of bananas during a heat wave.. We get a notice that "pipes onboard are sensitive" and I have no idea what that means..until I read further and was told that using too much toilet paper would cause a system blockage that would disrupt the entire vacuum system. Anyone taking bets on what will happen? OK..we're in the room..it is gorgeous with a great balcony and lots of storage space. Everything was fine ..until I saw the bathroom. I will have an easier time climbing the steps in the Acropolis than I will getting into this bathtub! There's no shower so.it's my only option.  I tried to get in..with my Sketchers with their wonderful traction, and it was impossible.  How will this possibly be done wet and naked? Jim said he'd help but he can't even keep track of his own fly for Godsakes! And he's telling me how he must unpack..NOW..and the luggage isn't even here. So no..he won't help me with bathing. This will be interesting..I walked (SIX MILES!!) yesterday and the main attractions to come require even less walking, but I will not be able to get into this tub designed for Amazons. Jim did call for a step stool and I got excited when there was a knock on the door..but it was merely strawberries from our wonderful Travel Agent.  Thanks, Christine!

10,000 steps later..

Adios Barcelona! I can't believe I survived you and if you had some of the cab drivers we did, you'd say the same.  Loved every second spent in this vibrant hot crowded wonderful city..but I'm going to bitch anyway.  The Tapas tour was a wonderful experience, but not exactly what I expected. The guide, Pola, was so freakin' adorable and competent but man, what an experience.  She spoke with a thick but understandable Spanish accent and broke the ice by saying she didn't "get the humor" of the French, to which I immediately replied:  "Because you're not Jerry Lewis." The Tapas tour..wow..let me get to that in a minute.  We walked for three hours and I have over 10 thousand steps today, which is about nine thousand, eight hundred and ninety nine more than I'm used to.  I am not ashamed,,I'll even admit I needed three showers.  We stopped at a lot of buildings, where Pola pointed out architect differences between the salmon colored stones and the pink ones. It made no difference to me, but Pola, like every guide, kept talking about the Spanish Civil War and my saying  " my paternal grandfather died in that!" became THIS trip's equivalent of "mon chien et Luke."  I don't know why I'm bragging..his absence greatly affected my Dad's childhood.  There wasn't even confirmation of his actual death until I was in 11th grade, and chose the Spanish Civil War as my project.  My teacher was a crazy commie who had a book with only about 20 copies published, but he lent me his, and there I saw the name of my grandfather and confirmation of his death and his valiant fight in the Abraham Lincoln Brigade.  OK..that's enough of a history lesson(as I said to myself a dozen times today) so onto more snark.  This "tapas" tour was a walking tour..around an elfin' food market!  Look, I love all you readers who are sticking with me dearly, I really do, but I wouldn't expect any of you to accompany me to Stop n Shop when I get home so I can describe in detail the seafood, produce, and meat sections. We finally arrive for the tapas meal, and I can't believe that nobody but me is grateful for air conditioning.  And there were eleven of us..all strangers..who had to share finger food.  Like, with each other!  Everything was a fried ball or a fried cylinder and I was too hot to care. After experiencing the eating of shapes, there was more walking..in the heat..on cobblestones.  Pola saw I wasn't doing too well and so we stopped at a church.  This was my second church visit today..it's way more times than I've been inside a synagogue in at least five years. We toured a nut shop, and a candy store..and..something with oil, I think, I was too freaking hot to care.  But by the time we stopped again for more unidentifiable things, I got to know our group..three hilarious guys from the Australian Outback named Phil, Ned, and Matt and I got the ball rolling with them by bringing up Trump.  Then there were the fantastic husbands from Miami, David and Jeff, who are staying at our hotel but sailing on a different cruise line tomorrow.  The only ones we didn't get to know were the four Canadians who actually ARE going on the same ship as us, but one of them smoked so there will be limited future contact. Feel free to leave blog comments if you want..whether you're a mensa member or a mob boss, a queen of the insipid "lol" with the 50's housewife mentality who says vapid things like "I'll eat this cupcake and then nothing else for a week..LOL!" Keep reading, stay patient, and thanks for enjoying my company. Next stop:  Cannes!

Barcelona is our town..

Time for a quickie before the tapas tour.  Tapas dinner:  You eat forty three things and pretend it's one meal. I was a full fledged tourist today and a good sport. Yes I was, Christine Cherry Hommel.  When your eighty pound pocketbook loses 79 pounds and your feet are embraced with the love of Sketchers, you tend to bitch less.  You do..I won't. The tour of the park was actually quite nice, seeing old sculptures and ceramic projects, and trying to figure out why the guide was discussing three cruises when she was actually saying three crosses. I learned that scorpions are the only critters attracted to fire so next time I see a scorpion, I'm buying them Samsung Galaxy note 7.  The tour was great and I managed it fine, and then I thought the second part of the day would be a snap..we were going to tour the inside of the Sandcastle Penis building and get there via an air conditioned bus.  What we weren't told is that we had to walk UP to get to the bus and it was like 190 steps and the worse part of it all was that the humidity woke up that sleeping cowlick, so you won't see any photos of me unless Jim figures out how to crop out my forehead..or until we're on the ship and I can use my straightening iron.  I met an amazing woman, Jackie from California via NJ .(Tony Soprano's town) She is a little older than me and quite thinner, but she too, is no fan of the steps that never end. Jackie met her husband while walking the streets on NY but it's not what you think..unless it is, I didn't ask, but we realized we hate and love the same celebrities.  The narrow streets of cobblestone are challenging as well.  Ooh!  Song break! I shouldn't be walking on my own/narrow streets of cobblestone/'neath the halo of a street lamp/I I'd love some comments from my friends from camp.  OK..Back to reality.  Jackie assured me I'll be fine in Florence, but Rome is a lot of walking.  I want to go to the Vatican anyway. I want to be there at the quietest, most holy moment of the year, where the audience is silenced by reverence.  Then I want Jim to lean over and whisper.."Are you overheated, Karen?" so I can answer in my loudest voice possible, "Is the Pope Catholic?" I wonder if everyone in the Vatican will be on their phones, ignoring the guides like they do in Barcelona. I wonder why I keep wearing shirts with seeeves when it feels like it's 190 degrees. Lexi Seitchik, the aforementioned queen of urban slang, assured me that I SHOULD be comfy, that sleeveless garments are fine even if it gives one "bingo arms." (Which refers to the jiggle of plump women shaking their arms after winning church bingo) Random thought:  Since we had two President Johnsons and Two Bushes, if Turmp wins, can he change his name to President Butthole while we're talking that general area? I had to insert that as I segue back to the Sandcastle Museum with the penises.  It really was breath taking inside, beautiful stained glass and lots of narration about the weird roles animals play in religion. I'm not really a smart person so I can't understand the beauty of architecture like smart people should.  Also, I'm not smart because I watch "Big Brother." When I was a kid, I wanted to be a card-carrying member of the Writer's Guild, but then I realized people actually get PAID to write for shows like "The Match Game"..they get paid to write things like "The Pillsbury Dough Boy is so fat" (Audience: "How fat is he?")..that any time he wants to make love to his wife he first has to BLANK.  C'mon, that could be ANYTHING.  I did have an enormous laugh at a "Family Guy" episode that made fun of this, saying something like:  "Forgetful Freddie is so forgetful.."  (Audience:  "How Forgetful is he?") that any time he runs into an old friend who's name and face he can't quite place he draws a BLANK.  Actually, the biggest laugh I ever had in my life besides that came in high school, during a class trip to local theater.  It was my first time in a theater and I expected Broadway..plush curtains and high ceilings and chandeliers, but this was LOCAL theater, in a converted barn.  The kind of place where a chubby lady in an apron announces that Act Two is about to start by ringing a cowbell.  The theater was a converted barn with rickety seats and the show was a production of Thornton Wilder's "Our Town."  We were way too immature to appreciate the charm and quaintness of regional theater. So these corny actors in the cast are saying their lines like they're auditioning for Pepperidge Farm commercials, and they're talking to audience plants in the same corny tone.  Plants in the audience were asking things like"Does your town have any culture?" when all of a sudden this cool inner city kid blurts out:  "Y'all have any violence in your town?" Now WE knew how the actor responded because we were close enough to smell it, but the people in the back must have thought he deserved a regional Tony for the grace he withstood under pressure in a Thornton Wilder play. What else makes me laugh?  I don't know..I worry more than I laugh.  I worry that I have to go two whole weeks without an eyebrow and upper lip waxing, which would be OK if we were staying in Italy or Greece.  I worry so much that I had to soothe myself with a song:  Are you ready for it?  A song before tapas? "Earthquakes and blisters/I fear every crisis/pick pockets..heatstroke/let's not forget I-sis/BROWN PAPER PACKAGES TIED UP WITH STRING(!!!????) these are a few of some scary-assed things../Phone service failure and getting more chubby/losing my luggage and losing my hubby/too many steps..I'm predicting a stroke/ oh..did I mention the cigaret smoke?/Paranoia! Will destroy ya!?Should have just..stayed home...Curled up with TV and I'd say "Golly gee../that this life beats..touring Rome!  OK..I hope this trip of a lifetime in not the death of me..but let's get ready for Tapas.