Pompeii or Rum Punch

Pompeii Today

As I was into my third hour of tours this morning, a guest comes up to me and couldn’t decide whether she should go to Pompeii or do the Amalfi coast by boat tour. After going back and forth with herself, and me never being the one to let the guest come to their own conclusion I told the lady to go to Pompeii as there are several coastlines in this world, but there is only one Pompeii: Pompeii is a city that was buried in Volcanic ash and gasses from Mount Vesuvius which killed the town’s 20,000 population in just a few hours.

After the encounter I realized how much I take for granted. I get to go to these places once a week, but these guests only have one shot at seeing the best of these places. I always forget how much preparation goes into planning a cruise. From the time of booking until the second they step on ship could be an entire year. They buy cruise clothes, book flights and hotels, they research and order tours online, they post endless messages on Facebook counting the days until they leave.

My sister Tammy is one of those people that plans everything way too far in advance. She is very prepared for every major holiday. For example her Christmas tree goes up in November and she brings out the presents that were wrapped in the Summer from her attic; the second she found out what ship I would be on next year, she immediately planned her yearly cruise with me and has given me strict instructions as to what port activities she wants to do and has given her husband’s work the exact dates he needs off (which are for next July). She has found Daycare for her dogs and has gone on line searching for the best flights. I have cautioned her against such advance planning as I have no idea if my company will change my ship or not, but there is no stopping her. Good thing she gets flight insurance.

I am not saying that Tammy is completely high strung, but she is completely high strung, but for some reason when she is cruising she is a very ‘easy to please’ guest. If one of the shore tours don’t pan out, she is fine just sitting on the beach so long as she has a 5 gallon fish bowl full of Rum Punch perched on her lap with a huge straw leading from it so she won’t have to lift it.

Maybe using her as an example isn’t the best as she knows that she will always be able to come and cruise with me without a lot of out of pocket expense except for the flight as she stays in my cabin. But it does remind me how much preparation a person has to go through to get ready for a cruise, for some a Cruise of a lifetime.

My cruise line does have a number of guests that have travelled far over 25 times with us. Take Linda Powell. I have had the opportunity to cruise with her a few times, and am looking forward to seeing her again in November. I am sure her cruise preparation takes far less time now that she has done it for a while. She knows exactly what she wants to take part in (karaoke – cue eye roll), what tours to take, what she will not attend (she still has yet to see the Liars Club), and for a large part she knows the ins and outs of crew life, which is great because it allows me to sit down with her and get some crew drama off my chest.

Whether you are crew family like my sister, Tammy, or part of the carnival family, like Linda Powell, or someone who is prepping their first cruise ever a year in advance, just remember even if you are only drinking rum punch on the beach you are still not at work and you are not making your own bed.

** On another note the 'Perm Poll': 80% of voters say Jo's hair was a perm. Sorry Jo!

Nice and Eze

Yesterday I went to Nice, France which is the newest area France obtained from Italy about 150 years ago. I went with Melody De Dios, Big Daddy John’s personal assistant. She is from Frisco Bay area and I always have so much fun with her – think Margaret Cho crossed with Mr. Myogi crossed with Farah Fawcett.

After Nice, we went to the oldest city in Italy which was also the most prosperous city in Italy for centuries, Eze. It is a medieval city built atop a very high cliff overlooking the bay of angels in Nice. In true Melody form she chose to go to the perfumery at the bottom of the cliff and left me to go to into Eze.

As I walked through the narrow cobblestone sidewalks, and climbed the numerous stairs and passed by plenty of tiny doors I started to feel something very special. I felt as if I was Willow from the movie Willow.

It is amazing how much humanity changes around a medieval city that hasn’t really change that much.

To know that small humans built the incredible city of Eze in 300bc without modern technology and it has lasted until today: A working city is mind boggling.

In today’s modern cities, the skylines tend to change every few years. Something is added, something is taken away and it is easier to do so as today we can build something in the fraction of time.

When I was young I used to think my cities mall was huge. I thought it was the largest building I ever seen. Now as I have grown, I don’t view it as such grandeur (especially after being here in Europe). I guess in turn, not only do my views on my city change as I grow, but the events in my life seem to become less insignificant as I grow.

When I went to my grad, it was the biggest event at the time, and yet now that my younger cousin are graduating I don’t feel it as such a huge ordeal. Not to take anything away from my cousin Ryan. I think it’s a huge event in his life, probably the biggest to date; however, when he grows to be 31 years of age I am sure he would have experienced more great things in comparison.

As I ducked to enter a tiny door that led to a soap merchant I wondered how humans got to be so tall. After smelling several soap scents I settled on something that smelled like cucumbers. I mean it was either cucumbers or lavender and as i was never a favourite of my grandmother, I had to go with the former.

Coming down for Eze, I met melody at the restaurant at the bottom of the hill to have a great goat cheese salad with some 7 euro glass of champagne. Expensive? Yes. But I was with Melody and Melody with a glass of champagne in her system is always fun to be around. It reminds me of another person who is very fun with a few glasses of champagne in her, one Christina Schroeder from my design days. She and I would often have a drink after work and then attempt to re-enact my birth – it never really worked.

As I left the very old city of Eze, I couldn’t help but to wonder how the people who easily fit though the tiny doors and rooms would feel about the giants of today exploring their unchanged city. Would they feel confused as to why their city was so special? Would they feel as if we were violating them? Would they be welcoming? Who knows? What I can tell you, is that if the giants of tomorrow took tours to my cities mall and walk the abandoned food court with awe, I would be completely confused. 

Ryan, right, on his grad night. How he got Ellen
Degeneres to go with him I will never know

Ana, yogrut, and Stanley

Ana when she found out I had the flu

“Another Saturday ruined” Ana said as she stomped her feet finding out that I would be joining her and her parents in the car on the way back from Ikea. I would have rode with her sister, my friend Sarah however she was on her way to her vacation home up in Whistler.

Obviously as she grew up, Ana became friendlier to me, sometimes she would say hi to me without hitting me. There was that set back when she thought I had hid her stuffed animal, Stanley and she threw a punch so hard in my arm I think I can still see the bruise.

I did find out today that we will both be in France tomorrow which proves my point that the world is not such a big place after all. It may look like a huge place when you are standing on a black diamond run atop a whistler peak, talking your way through launching yourself into the depths of a frozen hell that can only end in you in a body cast and all the big kids laughing at you, but in reality it is not such a huge planet.

As Juzzy and Mia and I were moving onto our third bottle of wine outside on the promenade deck, I stared out at the moon’s reflecting dancing on the Mediterranean Sea and started laughing.

Juzzy and Mia joined in on the laughter for what reason, they did not know and being kind of tipsy I did not feel like explaining the time I was in whistler for Sarah’s wedding, going through the McDonald’s drive through where the voice on the other end of the intercom thought I was a woman and called me Ma’am.

Mia had to run to the spa to meet Timmy the musician leaving Juzzy and I by ourselves to go to the night club and dance the cruise away. Opening our fourth bottle of wine, Juzzy decided to go for a cigarette outside leaving me to talk to the very good looking bar waiter named Luca.

Me: so… you’re working the nightclub?

Waiter: Yes.

Me: …Good… so…I like your vest!

Obviously I do not have the gift of the gab and anytime Juzzy would like to come back would be great.

Sarah and I once ended up in a bar in Whistler where I thought I could order Sangria. I could not and the bar tender let me know that by giving me the weirdest look. We spoke in accents all night long and ordered triples to match the tacky stagette that was unfortunately becoming sloppier as the night progressed.   

Finally Juzzy came back and pulled me back on the dance floor, but not before I tried to wink at Luca, but it turned out I was just crossing my eyes. At the end of the night Juzzy and I went up to the Pizza Parlour on Lido deck for a night cap of sorts. I really wasn`t feeling the Phillipino made Pizza so I opened up some yogurt. Taking my first spoonful I started snickering over something ridiculous. Juzzy followed suit of course and asked what was so funny.

Again I didn’t feel like explaining how Sarah convinced Ana when she was 5 that the correct pronunciation of Yogurt was Yogrut and from childhood Ana has always pronounced it as such. I am not sure if she is still calling it Yogrut or not, but one thing I am still sure of: you don’t want to mess with Stanley.

My Big Sis

My Big Sister, Laura on the right.

My pastors, Debbie and Greg Mitchell once taught me that relationship can be messy and that that’s okay. Sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s bad, but it’s always growing. It is this one single statement that saved my relationship with Christ because I now know that me being human no relationship will ever be perfect, but it will be forever growing.

My sister Laura and I have had an ever changing relationship. Sometimes we find ourselves at odds, even today in our early 30’s, but at the end of the day, we always will have each other’s backs. I love her a ridiculous amount and being on a ship it is sometimes hard to show that.

I have lots of favourite memories of her and I would like to share two of them with you. The first one is when we were both in elementary school and we got a paper route together. In fact we had three paper routes. Route 141 – marshal road & Broadway St.; route 205 – Cordova St.; and the other route number I am unsure of but it covered a very long street called Pandora St. My dad made this HUGE box with wheels to hitch on to the back of my BMX bike and this god awful orange flag. To say the least we were not looking cool. We were kind of embarrassed so we would park the bike and walk most of the route. At the end of the month we would go and collect the money from the clients. She would carry the black money purse and sometimes she would let me wear the purse.

The second memory I always laugh about is when her and I went to McDonald’s for a milkshake dinner, and as we were driving home, we got laughing about our mutual friend Kelly, Laura was laughing so hard that the milkshake came back up and went all over the car’s stick shift. It is truly the one memory that we have that if one of us brings it up, we both fall over laughing.  

You are my sister, we were born
So innocent, so full of need
There were times we were friends but times I was so cruel
Each night I'd ask for you to watch me as I sleep
I was so afraid of the night
You seemed to move through the places that I feared
You lived inside my world so softly
Protected only by the kindness of your nature
You are my sister
And I love you
May all of your dreams come true
We felt so differently then
So similar over the years
The way we laugh the way we experience pain
So many memories
But there's nothing left to gain from remembering
Faces and worlds that no one else will ever know
You are my sister
And I love you
May all of your dreams come true
I want this for you
They're gonna come true; gonna come true

To Perm or not to Perm that is the Question

Being sick in Venice is not the greatest thing in the world, but as my longest friend, Tracy Vines-Gibbons says, it’s better than being sick back in Canada.

Being so bored of bed rest, I decided to walk out my door and crash the dancer’s party that was going strong in Chris’s cabin. At first appearance one would think that Chris liked rainbows and unicorns as he is tall and slender with a wardrobe more tailored then the headquarters at GQ magazine; however he is a definite ladies’ man...most likely.

Along with Chris, there was Holly, who I have worked with for a few contracts. I can honestly say that Holly is like my personal plastic surgeon because whenever I see her my day gets an automatic lift. Positive, fun, I love being around her.

Kendall was also in the room: the girl who has an elegant bohemian style and emits a warm glow whenever she smiles.

On the bottom bunk we have Nathaniel who has quit the company and is counting the days to where he will be arm in arm with his boyfriend back in LA. I have known Nathaniel back when he was dating poultry (or just a guy named Chicken Little – I guess we all have our skeletons – I dated a midget).

Rounding out the peeps was Jo. There are two ways to describe Jo: the first way is the way the world sees her, the second is the way I see her, or used to see her I should say.

It all started innocently enough with me talking about the upcoming birthdays. Leonnie, a host, is turning 25 years old and I commented about how young she was compared to me and Jo and that is when all hell broke loose:

ME: Leonnie is so young compared to me and you, Jo.

JO: How old do you think I am?

ME: I don’t know… 32.

JO: 32!?!

HOLLY: You can’t be serious, Calvyn (not helping me, Holly)

JO: 32!?!

ME: Well, I just figure because of your perm.

JO: WHAT!? You think I have a perm?

ME: Err… It’s not?

HOLLY: O.M.God, Calvyn. (again, not helping me, Holly)

JO: Let me just be clear on this. You think I am 32 with a Perm? I think I am about to cry. Chris hand me those potato chips.

ME: I’m sorry, Jo, I just really thought it was a perm. Now that I know, you don’t look 32.

JO: Oh thanks. 32 and Perm… (Biting into a chip) Ugh, Chris these have no salt.

CHRIS: I'm retaining water. 

Needless to say, I am so happy that Jo is very forgiving. I can say that I probably won’t be able to go over to her and Holly’s cabin for treats anymore, but now that I know her hair is natural, she does look her age of 26!

Now if you will vote for yourself on Jo's hair on the left hand side of the blog... thank you!

Nathaniel, far left, next to him is Chris,  he's a ladies man alright

Vancouver

When I heard that Vancouver Canucks lost to Chicago Bruins 4 touchdowns to 0, I was disappointed. When I got word that there were riots in the streets of Vancouver, I was horrified.

61 people seriously injured, tear gas, looting, arson, 2 police cars overturned. What really gets my blood boiling is that the riots were caused by the low class vermin that come from the surrounding communities. I don’t know about you, but when my sports team doesn’t win, I don’t go around smashing store windows in, I may crush a few bags of chips in the snack aisle at Safeway in order to vent, but flipping police cars? What the hell is wrong with these people?!

By nature we are animals trying to live in an organized society, but I don’t see polar bears flipping over icebergs or beavers getting up in each other’s dams.

Vancouver has been voted the second best city on earth to live in and is obviously not immune to vandals and as I look at photos taken of the riots it looks as if the city is suspended in a post-apocalyptic time warp. Let’s look at a photo shall we?

Alright, well I have to go now, I just got word that the food and beverage department just kicked the entertainment department's ass in a soccer game up at sports square, and so I am going to go a ransack the gift shop!

My Sheero

When I was younger, I had the worst birthday party ever. I was four or eight or something and my mother had hired a pony to give rides at my party. Well these ponies are NEVER in good condition. This one dropped dead. It wasn’t much after that. One kid would sit on it, while the rest of us would drag it around in a circle. Mommy had to get her money’s worth.

Of course my mom and I look back and laugh about the debacle that was my party. We also look back and laugh about her grounding me for two weeks when I told her I wasn’t a ladies man.

I am so lucky that my mom has a sense of humour because otherwise I don’t think we would get along so well, even though sometimes my stories that involve her cause her deep embarrassment.  Take the time that I took a photo of her and my aunt Sharon with me to college and told everyone that it was my two moms. When she came to visit me one weekend it didn’t take her long to figure out what I had done. I guess it wasn't that hard to do so when everyone in my dorm asked where her wife was or how lucky I was to be raised by two moms. My mom was not impressed with me, meh; I graduated with honours with a degree in microbiology, so she couldn’t stay mad at me for long.

So now that you have a bit of understanding of my conservatively liberal mother, you can imagine my excitement knowing that my mom and Aunt Sharon are coming to cruise. I am tempted to have the ‘my two moms’ prank resurface for old times’ sake, but I figured it would not be as much fun. Not as much fun as letting everyone know the absolute truth about my mom: my mom is like the white Oprah, she’s Woprah! I am sure that most kids feel this way about their mothers, and I won’t bore you with the 1001 reasons why my mom is a classic nominee for saint-hood, but I will say that as she is the one who is responsible for a few key things in my life: my relationship with JC, her annoying, yet appreciated constant reminders to call my dad once a week, and her encouraging me to come back to ships when I was so lost I ran away to Mexico with a midget (long story),

Yes it is safe to say that my mom is my sheero. I love her and I cannot wait until she is on board.

Waiting in Vain

I have never been able to stay quiet for very long and as hard as I try to meditate, for whatever reason the theme song to Mr. Belvedere always plays in my head.

So you can imagine my utter delight when I had the opportunity to go to the Montserrat Monastery just outside of Barcelona, Spain where I would be forced to be silenced by the pressure of silence itself.

Listening to the Gregorian chanting monks whilst staring at the Black Madonna a wave of calm washed over me and as I started really listening to my inner being I realized it was telling me I had to go pee real, real bad.

Classic Calvyn; I could be at a dinner party with Jesus Christ himself and in the middle of him clarifying the importance of fleas, my bladder would be forcing me to rudely leave the table.  Not that I think Jesus would mind at all, I mean he did create me so he must know that my bladder flows often, but it is just highly inconvenient. 

As the rush came over me, I was desperate to find the water closet, I couldn’t very well ask anyone as they were all listening to the chant and the odd monk I saw, I couldn’t ask as they spoke no English, or they had taken a vow of silence themselves. I guess I could have charade it out; however I was not ballsy enough to stand in front of a random silent monk, cross my legs, put my hands over my area, bob up and down, and have a grimace on my face. I just could not do it.

Passing by a water fountain, I did take a split second to see if anyone was watching, but then my conscious took the best of me, and I thought it could be holy water.

In the meantime I could hear the Gregorian chant crescendo and I was very irritated that I could not fully envelope myself in the sanctity of the experience. 

In the end I ended up looking at a random statue of a man dressed in armour. He was pointing to the left, and so I took his advice and veered left where I saw a woman’s water closet but no mens. I went in. Meh… what is the worst that could happen. Thank goodness it was empty to begin with.

Because my head was sticking up over the stalls, I had to sit to pee, not such a big deal at all, but then the Gregorian chant let out, and all of the sudden this one deserted, desolate water closet was full to the brink. I was stuck in the stall. I had no moves. I had to stay in the center stall for the entirety of the line. I could not imagine, nor did I want to imagine what people were thinking about the “woman” in the center stall. It is amazing what pops in your head waiting in a bathroom stall for 45 minutes:

Thank you for being a friend

Down the road and back again

Your heart is true

You’re a pal and a confident.

And if you threw a party,

Invited everyone you knew,

You would see the biggest gift would be from me

And the card attached would say

Thank you for being a friend.

Graceland?

As Mia and I were making our way through Princess Grace’s Palace in Monaco, I happen to voice a thought I should have kept in my head.

ME: This is probably what Graceland is like

MIA: Are you serious, you Muppet?

Now even Mia, being from the United Kingdom, knew how dumb of a statement it was. Comparing silk lined walls edged in cording and lined with centuries old oil paintings to a place that houses a Velvet Elvis was kind of ridiculous; I guess I am lucky I only voiced one thought.

Later that night I got a page from Big Daddy, John, to accompany him for dinner. I love my boss. He really is the greatest cruise director out there. He is Nurturing, he is caring, and he is the first person to ask if everything is alright. He is a friend, and it crushed me when I had to turn down his offer when he asked me to do the next brand new ship next year. For the sake of our friendship I really wanted to go with him; however for the sake of my career, I had to accept my full Assistant Cruise Director Promotion.  Although November is a long time away yet, I want to spend as much time with him as possible, not as a boss, but as a friend.

We ordered the usual from the Pub on Board: Wings for him and Conch salad for me, before settling down to a great conversation:

Big Daddy John: What’s up Gay Lord?

Me: Nothing much Big Daddy.

BDJ: I told you not to call me that for god sake, it makes you sound like you’re my boy toy. I told you I’m not gay.

Me: You can do a lot worse than Calvyn Sean Champagne -Martens.

BDJ: Love you

Me: Love you

The bantering between John and I will be something I miss deeply, and even though he won’t admit it to my face I know he will miss it as well.

After leaving the Pub I jumped into a closing guest elevator and ran into Mia who was going for dinner.  I decided to come along. We would have called Juzzy, but she was back in Scotland going to her friend Muriel’s Wedding. Mia ordered her usual three orders of steak fries while I munched on some cherry tomatoes. I was tired from the day and I so I came up and went to bed.

As I was falling asleep, I was thinking about how much my life had changed in the last year and a half. I had gone from complete desecration to slowly climbing my way up to the top once again. Much Like Princess Grace I suppose.  

Not a Moment too soon.

A great cruise director once told me that it was important to marinate in the moment in which I am living.  Now I must be honest and say he didn’t use the word ‘marinate’, it would be to…’artistic’ for his liking and considering that he is constantly wearing three day old underwear, he won’t be making bids at Christie’s art house any time soon.

He is right; however, at times I don’t live in the moment. I remember when I used to live in the moment. I remember being in the moment every second of figure skating practice or interpretive dance lessons in which my dad made me practice in the garage with the car running.

I remember when I used to live inside every moment when I was working at KFC. It was a job I remember fondly as it was KFC that instilled a great work ethic in me. I had just been fired from the local Dairy Queen, which was ironic as I thought Dairy Queen was the mother ship calling me home, and so going for an interview with KFC I was a wee bit gun-shy.  I really wanted KFC to like me enough to hire me so I thought what better way to secure my triumph then to bring up the word ‘chicken’ as often as possible throughout the interview. It went something like this:

Tracy Vokins (Manager): How are you today, Calvyn?

Me: Just Clucky. (What does that even mean?)

TV: What is your best asset?

Me:  my need for chicken. (This showed her I wasn’t a vegan)

TV: what is your weakness?

Me:  fried chicken basked in 12 secret ingredients. (This showed her my love of the KFC product)

TV: What do you do for fun?

Me: Chicken Catch. (LIE, but it showed her I was not a member of PETA – I am one now)

TV: are you available weekends?

Me: Do chickens fly? (Trying to show her I was fluent in the Chicken’s behavioural habits)

YV: I… don’t really know.

Me: I’m available weekends.

This launched my many years making above minimum wage as well working with all seniors when I was a junior was so cool because I had no friends in high school (my mother once told me Rosemary had a better baby) and now I was having the cool seniors saying hi to me in the hallways.  

Because there was no need for me to advance or be promoted, it was easy to live in the moment. I can still remember my first car. I was suited up in my maroon (maroon is a deep red/purple for those of you who are not familiar with the color wheel) low thread count shirt and polyester pants dividing the two was my battery pack and I pressed the call button:

Me: Hello welcome to Kenfucky Fried Chicken,  my name is Calvyn how can I help you?

Car: Hey how many pieces come in a ten piece meal?

Me: I think it’s nine, but let me go check. (I was already saving the company money)

Car: ‘k I’ll take that.

Me: Would you like any hot gravy for your fresh fries (I was not required to put in descriptive words, it was my version of the mint on the pillow).

Over the years I got very comfortable with my job. Sometimes I would tell customers that we were out of French fries, but we have German Fries standing at attention.  Other times I would convince the cars that we ran out of chicken, but we managed to get our hands on pigeon.  I always got in trouble for the pigeon prank, but it was so worth it because in the moment it was hilarious and who would really believe such RIDICULOUSNESS and complain about me? The one Latvian family that lived in my town, that’s who!

At present, I am still living by Tracy Vokins’ words “treat everybody how you want your mother to be treated” and I do… most of the time.  Take having a guest throwing their sail and sign card at me when leaving the ship yesterday and telling me to go ______ myself. Well first of all, my mother would NEVER say such a thing, so in such a case I let my wit take over and simply stated “that’s why I’m learning yoga ma’am”. 

But at the end of every day on the ship, I dream of being something greater within the helm of Carnival Cruise Lines. I dream of taking the Cruise Director Chair and leaving my mark on a ship. Dreaming is good, but it takes you out of the moment.  Sometimes I get so focused on advancing I become very intense, I forget to share a laugh with my team, or dance my interpretive dance – ‘The Lifecycle of a Leaf’ as if no one is watching.

So maybe what I will begin doing is do something every day that is just so ridiculous, I have no choice, but to be in the moment. Maybe tomorrow I will sneak into the captain’s quarters and hide under his bed until he is sound asleep and then pull myself out with my arms and say repeatedly in a shaky Katherine Hepburn-esque voice “My legs! My legs! Give me back my legs!”

Sarah's old neighborhood

After a few glasses of wine and a puff of the magic dragon, in my early 20’s, my friend Sarah and I decided to drive my car, affectionately called ‘The Bus’ up to her old neighbourhood in the snow so she could reminisce about her childhood. After that we decided to go to the local club to which I had to parallel park. I ended up parking with the driver’s side tires on the curb.

Fast forward ten years later and I am on a ship with a few glasses of wine minus the magic dragon without my friend Sarah stumbling up the stairs at 3am with the spa and gift shop managers Mia and Juzzy after a long day in Croatia. We had spent 10 hours visiting the old city of Dubrovnik and had our breath taken away when we entered the gates that led us to the walled in city. The perfect marriage of old and new world, you could almost taste the history in the air. Being in Europe has made me realize how very small the world is and how very young my country of Canada is. We have no castles or Cathedrals that even can match the sheer grandeur of the ones in Europe.

So it is up to the individuals such as Sarah and me to visit the neighbourhoods that are old to us, steeped in childhood memories rather than in age and world history. I tried explaining this to Mia and Juzzy, who have become good friends here on the ship; however it was lost on them completely. I don’t blame them, as much as the third bottle of Vino we had on the bow of the ship.

We would have opened a fourth; however, we were running late for a Crew party with a Venetian mask theme. Ugh. I hate themed parties and knowing I didn’t have a mask, Juzzy decided to give me one from the shops on board witch was silver with bright blue glitter and tall feathers to match. Could I look any more gay?

Of course crew parties are going to be made up of the same old scene. There will be no Italian music as advertised because the Philippino’s who volunteer to DJ always stick on the gangster house music. The spa girls will be chatting up the Italian officers, and the entertainment department will be socializing only amongst themselves. Bore me later. BUT, Juzzy and Mia really want to go.

I tried to get the Boss Man John to come to no avail. So it will just be me with a gay mask on and a girl on each arm. No wonder I am still single. As I look around the party I see everyone wearing a mask and I think to myself how nice it is that this old tradition of wearing masks to a party which started in Venice is still alive today, only instead of dancing to the waltz, everyone is dancing to Limp Bizkit and D.Piddy.

The way of the world I guess…