(Missed part 1? Read it here!)
Most of our hotel-mates arose bright and early to go stand in line to hop on the boat, but as I’ve mentioned in great detail before, I hate standing in lines. And I hate being hot. (It’s a curse with this fantastic bod, I tell ya). That was a joke about being sexy. Just wanted to set the sarcastic tone a bit for first-time readers. Anyway, Megan and I slept in to avoid being actual corpses for the rest of the week, and then just sort of hung out at the resort until late afternoon, chatting with the resort employees and trying to practice speaking Spanish. Porque, solamente hablo español cuando estoy borracha.
We may have overdone the waiting around, though, because by the time we grabbed a Lyft, it was already pushing 1:45. And Megan needed sunglasses. We prepared to ask the Lyft driver to stop at a CVS on the way to port by having the resort staff teach us that phrase in Spanish. But when I said it out loud to the driver, he stared at me blankly. So I tried to piece together what little Spanish I knew and with the help of translating apps on each of our phones, we made it happen. Then he tried to drive us to the airport. After that was corrected and translated, we missed the exit for our port, and had to loop back around. At this point it was around 2:30 and I was panicking. I do like to waltz right onto the boat, but I definitely want to MAKE the boat. Instead of panicking, Megan was inexplicably spreading all of her stuff around the backseat of the Lyft, even putting the sunglasses she had just purchased in some strange cubby on the back of the center console, as if on a mission to leave them behind.
We screeched up to Terminal B, and I hopped out to ask the luggage dudes if it was for SURE the New Kids cruise, and they all shouted at me to hurry up because they were closing up luggage shop. So I in turn screamed to Megan to get out of the Lyft and get her luggage to these loud, angry men. We made it. Just as we stepped into the doorway of Terminal B, a brief and voracious downpour started, barely missing us and our Miami-frizzed hair. I took this as a sign of good luck that all of my compiled three years of cruise dreams were about to come true.
The process of getting on the boat seemed chaotic and ill-planned, even though we were the only people trying to get on. It seemed as if we had caught every Carnival employee on a break, and nobody wanted to tell us where the hell to go. We eventually found our way on, and hauled ass right to our cabin on deck 2 to attempt to get some door decorations up before Muster (or “mustard”, as Megan genuinely thought it was called. Because some people don’t like mustard. Logic!). We did not get any door decor up, but we did get a knock on the door and a visit from Miss Kelley, who I had only spoken to via Facebook. We were a little flustered and rushing and I’m sure Megan was a bit overwhelmed but before we knew it, it was time to go stand in the mustardy, moist heat for the safety drill. The drill that never ends. The drill that is led by the most attractive men and women I’ve ever seen all together outside of S Club 7. Do you think they pick overly attractive people just to taunt us while we sweat and whine? Last year Andrea Barber was standing in front of me, but this year there were no celebs for me to study in mundane circumstances, so I just paid attention like a jerk.
After the sweet release, Megan and I took our Inaccurate & Inappropriate t-shirt-clad selves up to Lido deck for Megan’s first experience in true Blockhead culture. The sail away party. We had promised several people who purchased our t-shirts that we’d meet up with them for a group photo after, so we dutifully wore ours and kept an eye out for others as we tried to find a decent spot to stand where, let’s be honest, we’d be visible to the Donnie. Megan peeled off to grab drinks and I spotted the other parts of the former Trouble Trifecta, Rae and Jenn. We approached them with an enthusiasm that was not at all matched, so after a quick hello, I retreated from the sun with my wagging tail between my legs. Which, seems like it would feel kind of good. The Miami sun was beating us like it was in the NFL and we couldn’t take it. We took cover under the red bar and that’s where we stayed put until the last syllables of “Live it, live it, live it up” echoed in our ears. Side note: “Girl, I don’t cheat but I want to”? Terrible lyrics. Terrible. That song is like all of Taylor Swift. I hate it but I can’t stop grooving to it. We did not get near any of the bros on the block, but we did talk about how they manage to just get hotter as the years go on. Which is frankly, just rude to those of us who are barely past 30 and getting grosser every day. I mean, I’m almost 34 but I can barely remember the past three years so I’m not counting them. I briefly quizzed Megan on which New Kid was which, and she almost got it right, only mixing up Jordan and Joe. We were on our way to a helluva Blockhead weekend.
We had never made an actual time/location plan for taking our I&I group pic, so I posted a selfie to what I thought was the I&I Facebook page, reminding everyone to meet us after the guys left. As it turns out, I was paying too much attention to Donnie’s open shirt, and not enough attention to my phone because I posted it to my personal page, doing us no good. So. Megan and I decided to just sort of stand near the doors to the elevators and look available. Kind of like the strategy I used to employ at school dances. I did run into Cait, another lovely who I had only known from Facebook and who I creeped out by knowing her name, so that was nice. When it had been an embarrassingly long time and we still hadn’t seen anyone with our shirts on, we figured our flash in the pan was already over, shrugged and bounced down to our cabin to get acclimated and get those damn door decorations up.
We lacked planning for most aspects of this trip, and the door decorations were no different. What we ended up with, were a bunch of pictures of the two of us, some post-its and instructions for people to roast us. It became a very fun game to come back to the room and see what hilarious thing a fellow Blockhead had left on our door. Although, it did take a little prodding to get you hearts of gold to actually be mean.
(Look out for part 3 to hear about the “game show” and Valentine Girl night!)