Happy meal!

Full disclosure:  I am writing these notes in the bathroom with an open window. Our room is right next to the snorkeling shack, and I should be worried that all these noisy divers are going to get ill in a few minutes after the ship departs in these choppy waters.  Instead, I'm worrying that they're hearing me and hearing Jim screaming things like "the water is low--flush multiple times!"  Why am I embarrassed that I have bodily functions?  And not embarrassed to talk about them with everyone reading this blog? I'd better get an early start on journaling today because I'm probably going to explode by 2:00 PM. Look, it's not unusual for me to eat three times what I normally do at a buffet(most vacationers do) but just because the variety isn't what I'm used to at Club Med doesn't mean the rich and creamy foods aren't there for the taking. Give me a bowl of the best french onion soup I've ever had and a helping of browned cheesy scalloped potatoes with a side of beef bourgeon (no way I'm going to attempt to spell it) and I am a ten year old with a burger and fries and a toy in her Happy Meal.

We sat again with those wonderful dinner companions from San Diego, Harold and Sandra. I always feel a little stilted using a formal name, so I asked if she ever goes by a nickname, which she does, so I will now refer to them as Harold and Maude. 

Sandra/Sandy/Maude is a petite blond and a pistol! She is full of zest and a zestful hatred for Trump. She has the right amount of quirkiness and kookiness to endear her to me, like how this little woman's dessert last night was a plate of chocolate ice cream accompanied by a grilled lamb chop. She and Harold have been to exotic places like Papal New Guinea.  How was "Survivor" ever filmed in a place where natives die because they can't get medical care? There is death and bugs and no water, and Sandra/Sandy/Maude made me want to go because I'd probably  have a lot of blog followers on my death bed. 

Harold and Jim almost drowned on that snorkeling excursion yesterday but you won't hear a peep out of him.  In fact, yesterday was his birthday and he kept it on the QT. Ah, to be no fuss, no muss...I asked Sandra/Sandy/Maude when her birthday was and she replies:  "I don't have one."  Classic Sandra/Sandy/Maude! 

She is a wonderful conversationalist--much better than I pretend to be. She was way across the table from car salesman Mark from NY but still asked him interesting questions ala Dale Carnegie. Jim was sitting right next to Mark and didn't speak nearly as much, but I think he was skeeved because Mark had eaten something white and creamy that made him look like he was foaming at the mouth. Although later, when we were alone and played our usual "Name That Doppleganger!" game, we said at the same time, "Patton Oswald if Patton Oswald had rabies." We were also seated with a stunning GO, a staff member from Japan.  She couldn't stay long--she was preparing for her role as a dancer in the Moulin Rouge show.  She had layered teeth but a beautiful face and body, and she told us she was in "selling."  I asked if she worked in the office with group sales, Jim asked if she sold sarongs in the boutique, and she then clarified that she may be off tomorrow(now today) due to the weather..she teaches SAILING. 

Sandra/Sandy/Maude looks at me in all seriousness and says:  "Karen/Kar/Snarky Rosie O'Donnell look alike bitch/...I didn't like your blog."  There was a dramatic pause and acceptance on my part--sure she's brilliant but she had grilled lamb with ice cream  so to each his own--Sandra/Sandy/Maude says:  "I didn't like your blog..I LOVED it!"  I can't tell you how much that means to me, coming from a complete stranger. Thank you so much, Sandra/Sandy/Maude...hope to run into you later to talk about Broadway or malaria  outbreaks in some of the exotics spots you go to.