So after a quiet weekend, we got up at the ass crack of dawn on St. Patty's day (After ingesting a nerve calming Bloody) to get a ride to the airport from Pa Perrious. The flight was fine (I was passed the F#CK out) and we were then shuttled to our port of call in Long Beach, where after a brief wait we boarded the Paradise. Famished, we went in search of vittles whereupon we discovered the beauty and joy which is cruise food. (It was a bit of a "holy s#it" moment for us, and during the duration of the crooze it took all of our restraint not to eat everything within our line of vision) we were able to do a bit of recon before dinner, acclimating ourselves to the where's and whatsis were on da ship. Then we debarked. We were apologized to by the staff for the cold weather, even though we were already covered in sunblock and saying "are you f#cking kidding us?" I guess 70 degree's to some is frigid. To us, it felt like we were in a sun spot.
Did you know what? People don't tell you that you can feel the keel. That was weird.
We met our dinner companion's (the misanthropic side of me didn't wanna have to sit with strangers. Fortunately they were all young couples. Unfortunately for Moda, three of them were military.) Did you also know that these bitca's that live in Cali just drive on down to Long Beach and going on cruises is about as routine as going up North to da lake is for us MNsotan's? Go figure.
Our dinner was cut short, however when we received an announcement that there was apparently someone spotted in the ocean. (It took the lot of us a few minutes to get past the "WTF did they just say" moment to actually getting our fancy, albeit not to tasty, dinner "to go")
We later found out that it was just a buoy.
After being confined to quarters, we called it an early night and ended up getting up at the ass crack of dawn (again) to work out. Moda braved the chilly weather and the outdoor running track while I opted for the warmth and safety of the gym. (Yes, you can workout on board) Our first port was the Catalina Island town of Avalon, where we eschewed spening $ on any of the tours/excursions and opted to get the lay of the land on foot. A few margarita's and some sunshine (As well as an impromptu outdoor dance show put on by the over-sexed pampies...seriously, do we need to see these young women/girls dressed like hookers and "crunking" It was creepy, and Moda remarked that there are probably pederasts in the audience) we were ferried back to da ship for a nap and the formal dinner.
We enjoyed the captain's cocktail (one of the few times we were able to drink for free) and were introduced to the crew (I wanted to shout out "Well if they're all here, who the f#ck is driving the BOAT!!!") and were able to actually get through the meal this time before hitting the dance club. And did you know, that I am a senior citizen? Seriously, wtf with these kids and there dancing? I almost got a shoe in the face.
Day three was Empanada Mexico, which we decided to actually do a tour of Bufo-dufo and the shopping area. Lemme sum this up- Our shuttle had a bunch of Johnny Salami's on board. (Tan, mid-20's, wearing straw cowboy hats...and carrying a football) As soon as we arrived at the shuttle off point in DT Ensenada, these dudes promptly took their shirts off, got drunk, started yelling, and played catch (and...cough cough...lots of shirtless grabass...hmmmmm) within the span of 10 minutes. I wish I was lying. And it made me grateful we didn't opt for the private club/beach/bar crawl tour. That would have been bad-idea jeans bad.
Did I mention it was only 60 degree's? Morons.
Buofodora was kinda lame. After a Tecate and some fajita's, we proceeded to get accosted by every street peddler there. Every one. One of them even chased after us. It was like Tijuana on Meth. Crazy.
We headed back and opted for some hot tub/naps. In the hot tub we were told by a young couple (Ken and Barbie the Horseface) that the bar crawl was fun "If you like drinking" (I'm assuming they meant "a lot". They both claimed to be "still drunk" and were powering down the pizza like it was their job) We skipped dinner in lieu of snacking on the buffet bits and caught a little karaoke...did I mention that their karaoke bar is huge? Like, cabaret nightclub huge.
And I got my ass cheered for after singing. It was awesome.
The last day was our "Fun Day At Sea"...which started as kind of a drag. It was cold. Cloudy. And the ship info booth said it wasn't going to be over 55 degrees. (Did you know that they captain will circle around the sea to find a sunny patch? No lie) After breakfast and a nap, Moda was convinced that she could will it to be sunny. And so it became. And hot. And nice. And she got sunburned. And we drank our weight in Margarita's, which was that day's special.
We dined with buddies for the last time, packed, and called it a night. Almost.
Because in there were folks in the next state room who were partying. And by partying, I mean SCREAMING at the top of their lungs. We had to call the steward to shut them the hell up. (Again, we're senior citizens. Shakes cane. Says "get off my lawn". etc. ) The only edification we received was when we heard a telltale "CRASH"/"OW!!!" of some drunkard falling out of their bunk. (We saw the room the next day. Totalled)
After we made port, we were NOT anticipating a 7 hour wait at the airport (We were basically forced to exit the ship at 7:30am) and after tooling around the Queen Mary, we hit the road.
And found out that we could get a standby flight for earlier. (Anticipating, again, that we wouldn't get it)
But we did. wOOt.
And we came home to 6-8 inches of the white stuff. Boo.
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