I've been told that some of the younger, hipper cruise lines don't care what you wear to dinner. But Holland America is the spinster Great-Aunt of cruise lines. I think that the majority of people who cruise on Holland America are also the sort of people who don an ascot and Panama when boarding the 4:30 autogyro to Prussia. Luckily for the nerd contingent, the Maitre D gave his approval to steampunk fezzes and electric blue corsets, making formal night fabulously entertaining.
Half of the 8pm seating every night was reserved for the JoCo Sea Monkeys. Most nights, we chose to sit on the lower level of the dining room, in a raised central area dubbed the Monkey Pen. Thanks to the Twitt-arr setup, and the analog Twitter (paper and thumbtacks) in the Game Room, groups were able to arrange dinnertime get-togethers, and those were my favorite dinners. One night, we sat with the DC-area folks, and one night saw a very polite Canadian takeover of the Monkey Pen.
Every night was fun, but Day 3 is where I left off last time, and I should probably finish that up for you so you don't die of suspense.
The sea was angry that night, my friends. Wine was sloshing around in our glasses during dinner, and a some people at the table excused themselves before dessert because they were starting to feel seasick. It was a very windy night, and we were moving quickly in order to reach Aruba on schedule. I was feeling fine, even making fun of the sick sissies, until I got upstairs on the deck. There was an outdoor show - Molly Gras - featuring Molly Lewis, another artist I didn't know before the cruise, and I was very excited. I liked her first song, and I really liked her second song, but by the third song, the swaying of the deck was too much for me and I had to get back to my room, my bed, and my seasickness pills. Sadly, I missed most of Molly's show, in order to avoid throwing up on anyone's formalwear. I hope to see her sometime if she tours, because what I've heard from her on YouTube is wonderful.
My man came back to check on me and tell me he was heading off to enjoy - and maybe participate in - the JoCo Karaoke night. Nothing gets a sleepy me dressed faster than a chance to see my husband sing. Either it would be great, or embarrassing, and I wouldn't miss either for the world.
For hours, tipsy people took the stage to sing Jonathan Coulton's songs in the grand tradition of karaoke. It devolved into a drunken sing-along almost immediately, and nobody was teased for being off-key. Actually, a surprising number of participants were really good. Because there were so many people wanting to participate, my husband didn't get a chance to sing, but he had his moment in the spotlight, and it's a moment that everyone in that room was talking about for the rest of the cruise. During the song "Re: Your Brains", which is, naturally, about zombies, a group of guys zombied their way towards the stage to attack the singer, who defended himself with his mic stand until he was overwhelmed at the end of the song. And my husband, my awesome husband, was a great zombie.
It doesn't get better than a nerd cruise, folks.
Half of the 8pm seating every night was reserved for the JoCo Sea Monkeys. Most nights, we chose to sit on the lower level of the dining room, in a raised central area dubbed the Monkey Pen. Thanks to the Twitt-arr setup, and the analog Twitter (paper and thumbtacks) in the Game Room, groups were able to arrange dinnertime get-togethers, and those were my favorite dinners. One night, we sat with the DC-area folks, and one night saw a very polite Canadian takeover of the Monkey Pen.
Every night was fun, but Day 3 is where I left off last time, and I should probably finish that up for you so you don't die of suspense.
The sea was angry that night, my friends. Wine was sloshing around in our glasses during dinner, and a some people at the table excused themselves before dessert because they were starting to feel seasick. It was a very windy night, and we were moving quickly in order to reach Aruba on schedule. I was feeling fine, even making fun of the sick sissies, until I got upstairs on the deck. There was an outdoor show - Molly Gras - featuring Molly Lewis, another artist I didn't know before the cruise, and I was very excited. I liked her first song, and I really liked her second song, but by the third song, the swaying of the deck was too much for me and I had to get back to my room, my bed, and my seasickness pills. Sadly, I missed most of Molly's show, in order to avoid throwing up on anyone's formalwear. I hope to see her sometime if she tours, because what I've heard from her on YouTube is wonderful.
My man came back to check on me and tell me he was heading off to enjoy - and maybe participate in - the JoCo Karaoke night. Nothing gets a sleepy me dressed faster than a chance to see my husband sing. Either it would be great, or embarrassing, and I wouldn't miss either for the world.
For hours, tipsy people took the stage to sing Jonathan Coulton's songs in the grand tradition of karaoke. It devolved into a drunken sing-along almost immediately, and nobody was teased for being off-key. Actually, a surprising number of participants were really good. Because there were so many people wanting to participate, my husband didn't get a chance to sing, but he had his moment in the spotlight, and it's a moment that everyone in that room was talking about for the rest of the cruise. During the song "Re: Your Brains", which is, naturally, about zombies, a group of guys zombied their way towards the stage to attack the singer, who defended himself with his mic stand until he was overwhelmed at the end of the song. And my husband, my awesome husband, was a great zombie.
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