Oh yes. My bedroom is finally looking like my own again after having had a subletter use it as his all-in-one living and storage space for the last three months. This fall has been a blur which has left me floating and reeling. After Be The Riottt in San Francisco and a short tour in France with Busdriver, I had only a day back in New York before heading to cold Chicago for a long Thanksgiving holiday with my family. It was lovely as usual, and the weekend included some drunken adventures in the city with friends, which thankfully did not result in a DUI; I'm fucking smooth.
Anyway, my next stop was a Carnival cruise with my younger sister, Shana. Upon the successful signing of her apartment lease, as an added bonus, her realtor threw in a free cruise for two. Luckily for me, my sister's boyfriend couldn't go for some inconceivable reason, and I was her lucky man in tow for a cheesy romp in the Gulf of Mexico. 75% of our ship was from Texas, and I'd safely say 20% was from Oklahoma; that leaves only the paltry remaining 5% of us to relish in the fact that we were not from the south. You should've seen the formal night for christ's sake! Never in my life have I had the distinct pleasure of seeing so many overweight, seasick women in red-sequined evening gowns, carrying tall, $7 pink frothy drinks with their cowboy boyfriends. Each night- and practically every morning- a photographer would walk around and capture all kinds of "exciting" and "fun" happenings on the ship- you know, like a completely bored "pirate" with a hook coming around tables at dinner and posing with the unimpressed patrons, or perhaps an "authentic" looking Mexican wearing face paint and feathers (huh?) waiting for debarking passengers at port- and then place all the photos along the hall of the atrium for all to see and, um, buy. I have few regrets, but one of them is not taking pictures of the pictures, if you know what I mean.
Sadly, we had only 1 and a half days of sun. Generally, it was cloudy, cold, and raining, and that had an obvious effect for us: motion sickness. But, without fail, our Australian cruise director would get on the loud speaker a few times a day following a little melody to announce "it just doesn't get any better than this- you're on vacation!" Um, yeah- I can think of a few ways it could get better, but I don't want to upset the people playing Bingo, paying $200 for an hour-long massage, or blowing money in the casino right now, so I'll just keep my opinions to myself.
All in all, through even my most cynical moments, I had fun, and loved taking in the ocean probably more than it loved giving me seasickness as return karma for laughing at everyone around me.
I now have only a week to spend at home before going back to Chicago for my birthday and the holidays and am feeling quite insular; perhaps I've been listening to Benoit Pioulard's beautiful album too much and should put on something a little happier. Until then, enjoy seasonal affective disorder with me!