Carinval Glory - NYC to New England... A Memoir

[ShakyBeef]

So incredibly precious!

 

 

Thank You! We of course, think so. But it's always so nice to hear it from others. :o We could, afterall, be just slightly biased when it comes to judging the cuteness level of our own kids.

[ShakyBeef]

Thanks Flaky Shaky. I'll have to try that one. I have an onboard gift of four free drinks of my liking so I'm looking for inspiration!

 

Although I do like frozen drinks with the ice blended INTO it!

 

I don't think you'll be seeing Inspiration on your cruise - I think she'll be cruising the Caribbean, out of Tampa 'round that time.

 

(Sorry, I know that was dumb. I just couldn't stop myself. I'm going to go try to do something useful with my day, now.)

[bragstarr]

I don't think you'll be seeing Inspiration on your cruise - I think she'll be cruising the Caribbean, out of Tampa 'round that time.

 

(Sorry, I know that was dumb. I just couldn't stop myself. I'm going to go try to do something useful with my day, now.) __

 

Ba da BUM! (that was the drums, in case you were wondering...as bad as your joke!)

[terri-eddie]

New Brunswick is not an island. Neither is Nova Scotia, for that matter, although almost entirely surrounded by water....a narrow isthmus connects it to New Brunswick.

 

And, as a native of the fine province, I can tell you that we are called New Brunswickers.

 

Carry on.

[Delta Hotel]

New Brunswick is not an island. Neither is Nova Scotia, for that matter, although almost entirely surrounded by water....a narrow isthmus connects it to New Brunswick.

 

And, as a native of the fine province, I can tell you that we are called New Brunswickers.

 

Carry on.

 

Oh, Duh! I should've known that. Stupid me. I apologize for my glaring ignorance. I'll need to correct that in my personal verision of this memoir since it's too late to change it here.

 

New Brunswickers... got it. Thank you.

[terri-eddie]

Oh, Duh! I should've known that. Stupid me. I apologize for my glaring ignorance. I'll need to correct that in my personal verision of this memoir since it's too late to change it here.

 

New Brunswickers... got it. Thank you.

 

 

You're welcome, eh? Have a nice day!

[ShakyBeef]

New Brunswick is not an island. Neither is Nova Scotia, for that matter, although almost entirely surrounded by water....a narrow isthmus connects it to New Brunswick.

 

And, as a native of the fine province, I can tell you that we are called New Brunswickers.

 

Carry on.

 

Oh, Duh! I should've known that. Stupid me. I apologize for my glaring ignorance. I'll need to correct that in my personal verision of this memoir since it's too late to change it here.

 

New Brunswickers... got it. Thank you.

 

 

Oh, crap!:o I'm also sorry - I should have caught that. Both of us knew better. Man, we even drove to and all over New Brunswick years ago (and didn't have to use a ferry or a bridge to get there from Maine:rolleyes:). Of course those two provinces aren't islands. Wow, do we look dumb.:o

 

Sorry, folks.

[rnvattes]

i could’ve been hit by a car or something, eh?”

 

 

good job of blending with the natives by speaking their language, eh?

 

i

 

and before someone growls at me for poking fun at canadians, let me just say.....i'm from nova scotia, eh?

 

like!

[Pistol Packin Mama]

Really enjoying the review DH. Does anyone recall if there is a cigar lounge on board? There usuall is, but I haven't checked the ship.

[ShakyBeef]

Really enjoying the review DH. Does anyone recall if there is a cigar lounge on board? There usuall is, but I haven't checked the ship.

 

According to our Fun Times (Under Smoking Areas, on the back page):

 

"Cigar smoking is only permitted in Bar Blue, and on the open decks on the starboard side."

 

I don't know if that makes Bar Blue (Deck 5, Aft) Glory's cigar bar, or not. We walked past it on several occasions, but only stepped inside once, on embarkation day during our exploration of the ship.

[Pistol Packin Mama]

According to our Fun Times (Under Smoking Areas, on the back page):

 

"Cigar smoking is only permitted in Bar Blue, and on the open decks on the starboard side."

 

I don't know if that makes Bar Blue (Deck 5, Aft) Glory's cigar bar, or not. We walked past it on several occasions, but only stepped inside once, on embarkation day during our exploration of the ship.

 

Thanks much!

[Sea&SkiCruiser]

Anxiously awaiting more...please?

[Delta Hotel]

After sitting, drinking, and talking to Wifey for a while about some random and not-so-random things, we both begin to feel a tugging string of neglect and selfishness. We’ve been away from the kids for a couple of hours now, and we don’t want to take advantage of Mom and Dad’s babysitting services. OK, we do want to take advantage of their services, but we don’t want to out-right abuse it… this time. I finish up my current beer, and Wifey finishes her DOD and orders another one “for the road”. For Wifey, having a drink in hand (must be half full or more) is important when walking on the ship while we’re under way. It’s a frozen, but still fluid, ballast system which she can choose to use it for balance in the event that the ship begins to list too much in any one direction.

 

This liquid ballast system works in a similar fashion to the tight-rope walkers who use a long pole for balance, but since Wifey’s on the flat, solid, stable deck of a 83,170 ton ship, it only requires a frozen drink in one hand to accomplish the same balancing effect. I’m sure you’ve seen this system in effect a few times on land, where a person is walking with a drink in hand and it appears as though they’re fighting the rolling motion of waves on a boat. The problem here is not that they’re drunk. The problem is that they’ve implemented their at-sea ballast system on land. If you implement this system on a boat or ship, it’s much more effective and you’re less likely to appear utterly drunk since everyone is moving along with the motion of the ship anyway… some more than others.

 

We make our way back to Mom and Dad’s cabin to retrieve our children. Nothing notable happens. We get to the cabin, we knock on the door, Mom opens the door and we come inside. Dad is sleeping the bed. Their cabin has the bathroom on the left side as you enter, and the bed is against the left side of the room. Dad is sleeping on his left side, knees bent, and facing the balcony. All we can see is the back of his head, the back of his shirt which is almost popping out of his pants, and the back of his legs. Daughter #1 is sitting on the other half of the bed closest to the balcony, and staring blankly at the television… and I can tell by the dialogue that it’s Tangled… uh-gain. Daughter #2 is sitting on the couch-thing with her coloring books and papers quietly drawing pictures and writing letters.

 

It’s nearing dinner time, so we get the girls to clean up their little messes and we leave Mom and Dad alone. I don’t really think that Dad even noticed that the girls were there… and I’m pretty sure that he didn’t notice us leaving since he didn’t move at all. We take the girls right back to our cabin. This sounds like a direct and quick trip, but it’s not. It’s 6 decks down and what feels like 500 feet down the hall. Actually, it might be 500 feet, so that’s probably why it felt like 500 feet.

 

When I said that it was “nearing dinner time”, I really meant that we were a couple hours away from dinner time. However, depending on how long it takes to get ready, and to get two small girls ready for dinner, two hours may be cutting it close. We get back to our cabin, and we all immediately go into our getting-ready-for-dinner routines. The girls change into their dresses and then play quietly for an hour and a half. I fold back the corner of the blanket and sheet, sit on the bed, kick off my shoes and neatly place them exactly where my feet will land when I get out of bed, tuck my socks under the corner of the blanket, throw the extra pillow onto Wifey’s side of the bed, and pass out for an hour and a half. Wifey… well, no one really knows what she does for this hour and a half because I can’t see or hear anything for this period of time, and the girls aren’t really good at paying attention to what adults are doing around them.

 

I never use two pillows when I sleep. This is also something left over from my traumatic childhood – specifically something I learned from my grandmother. You remember, right? The tree-chopping, brothel running, $10K in jewelry-wearing, gasoline bathing, scotch-brite pad scrubbing, beat you with the molding she ripped off the wall, grandmother? Yeah, that one.

 

When I was little, my grandmother would tell everyone in the family, any friends that came to the house, or even the occasional stranger, that using extra fluffy pillows, or using multiple pillows for prolonged periods of time (years) would cause your spine to slowly curve, and eventually cause the permanent curve at the top of your spine. Here’s a simple illustration to show what my grandmother believed to be true:

 

 

As a child, and even to this day, I’m not totally sure what causes the curved spine effect in older people, but my grandmother’s fanatical warnings about not using extra fluffy or multiple pillows stuck. Although I don’t necessarily believe this direct correlation now, I still sleep with one pillow, and it’s usually as flat as I can deal with. Even if it weren’t for my childhood associations, I don’t really like sleeping with my chin on my chest; it’s harder to breathe that way.

 

I open my eyes, and Wifey is showered and almost dressed for dinner. She asks me to do something with the girls’ hair and tosses their “hair bag” onto the foot of the bed beside me. Their “hair bag” is just a medium sized Zip-loc bag with little rubber bands of varying colors, colorful hair-ties, bows, barrettes, several brush types, and general little-girl hair paraphernalia. I reach into the bag and pull out my hairbrush of choice, two pink bows to match Daughter #2’s dress, and two small clear rubber bands. Then I call over the little one and she stands between my knees next to the bed. She leans her butt up against the bed and tries her best to hold her head still.

 

I part her hair down the middle first, then use a rubber band to hold one pig-tail out of the way while I work on the other one. After about 30 seconds of careful brushing and pulling, I get the first pig-tail in place on the left side of her head then I scoot over to right side and attempt to re-create a mirror image. The first pig-tail is always easy… it’s getting the second one to match the first one that’s hard. I normally undo the second one at least twice before telling myself, “It’s good enough… no one will even notice.”

 

“OK, you’re done. Go play and don’t touch your hair.” I say as I pat her on the back. It’s really the pat on the back that tells her that she can go now, not the words. I just say the words for my sake. I call Daughter #1 over and ask her, “What do you want tonight? Pony tail? Side pony tail? Pig tails like your sister?”

“Daddy, will you please do a French braid tonight? Please?”

“Fine. I’ll do it, but no whining or complaining, got it?”

“OK.”

 

I reach in the bag and pull out a small clear rubber band. I dig around in the bag for a red bow, but didn’t find one, so I settled for a white bow. I set the bow and rubber band next to me on the bed and begin to brush her hair out. I normally prefer to use a rat-tail comb for a French braid, but I didn’t see one in the bag, and didn’t feel like asking for one. I also didn’t have the time be that precise, so I just used my fingers and eyeballed it. A few minutes later, I reach the end of her hair. I hold the end of the braid with my one hand and pick up the rubber band with the other. I attach the rubber band about 3 inches from the end of her hair and then stick on the white bow. There, all done with little-girl hair. Time to get dressed for dinner.

 

I walk over to my closet, evaluate the status of my current outfit, pull out my dinner jacket and clean shirt, and choose to keep the pants I’m wearing. I decide to go casual tonight and skip the tie. As a compromise however, I pick my shiny black socks – the ones with the high nylon content and the subtle vertical ribs going up the calf. These socks are clearly dressier than my other black socks, but since they have a relatively high nylon content, they don’t absorb sweat as well, and I often find that after a few hours of wearing them, they begin to have this strange squeaking feeling inside of my shoe. Not the good kind of squeaky, the bad kind of squeaky. Already knowing about the bad squeak of these socks, I put them on knowing that it’s probably only going to be a few hours until we retire for the evening anyway, so as long as I can avoid running, dancing, or any strenuous foot-related activities, I should be OK for the evening.

 

I take off the wrinkled-from-sleep shirt that I’m wearing, sniff my under-shirt and general arm/chest area, declare it suitable, and then I change into my dinner shirt. The under-shirt that I’m wearing is already a V-neck, and since I’m not wearing a tie this evening, that’ll do just fine. I don’t really like it when guys wear crew-neck under-shirts with collared shirts and no tie. It creates this bright white triangle at the neck that’s very distracting to look at, and doesn’t add any positive features to the outfit. This is most noticeable with dark colored button-down shirts because of the contrast. They’re called under-shirts, not normally-worn-under-stuff-but-still-ok-if-you-use-it-as-a-normal-shirt-as-long-as-its-less-than-ten-percent-visible shirt. This same feeling applies to underwear being visible – it’s never really OK… even if it’s only showing a little bit above your low-rise jeans.

 

So, I finish getting dressed, throw some water on my face and we head out to dinner. We’re a little late getting out of the cabin, so we walk quickly to the dining room. Even walking quickly, I’m able to snap a few photos of the girls on the way to the MDR.

 

 

 

[bragstarr]

As the mother of two grown sons, I am very impressed with a father's knowledge of how to do little girls' hair!

[njmomof2]

As am I. I have 2 boys, so no worries about doing hair in my house. But I have had long hair (varying lengths) for years and no matter how hard I try, I have never, ever been able to do a french braid or anything even remotely resembling it. Ponytail, sure. Might even manage pigtails, but really, what 48 yo woman walks around with pigtails and expects to be taken seriously?

 

Enjoying your newest installment.

Edited August 11, 2011 by njmomof2

[ShakyBeef]

As the mother of two grown sons, I am very impressed with a father's knowledge of how to do little girls' hair!

 

 

Oh, he's good! You should see his ballet buns!:D:cool:

[DDMiller]

As the father of four daughters, I feel shamed. If I even mention doing one of the girls hair, they run in horror. Whenever DW leave town she has to put the youngest in braids that will hold til she gets back.

 

Thank you for taking the time to write this review. For a cruise I know I will never go on, I have been hanging on every word..

[Delta Hotel]

As am I. I have 2 boys, so no worries about doing hair in my house. But I have had long hair (varying lengths) for years and no matter how hard I try, I have never, ever been able to do a french braid or anything even remotely resembling it. Ponytail, sure. Might even manage pigtails, but really, what 48 yo woman walks around with pigtails and expects to be taken seriously?

 

Enjoying your newest installment.

 

I think more 40+ women should wear pig tails. I don't have a good reason, I just think they should.

[njmomof2]

I think more 40+ women should wear pig tails. I don't have a good reason, I just think they should.

 

If I knew I would not be banned from CC for life, I *might* put my hair in pigtails and take a picture for all to see. But you all might just be scarred from the mere sight of it LOL!!!

[Delta Hotel]

As the mother of two grown sons, I am very impressed with a father's knowledge of how to do little girls' hair!

 

I didn't write this part into the memoir, but I have an unfair advantage over most fathers in this department. I spent a few of my teenage summers and weekends in a D.C. hair salon. My favorite uncle has been a hair dresser for the last 30 years and I used to follow him around when I was younger. I would hang out with him in the salons, surrounded by beautiful women who I later found out weren't even interested in guys, but as a teenage boy, that wouldn't have mattered anyway.

 

So, I learned a few things about hair, drugs, and music during those years. Lots of people get to experiment with drugs and music... mine just occured in a hair salon.

[Delta Hotel]

So, I learned a few things about hair, drugs, and music during those years. Lots of people get to experiment with drugs and music... mine just occured in a hair salon.

 

So, after reading my own post, I realized that this sounds bad... it sounds like I was doing all kinds of bad things in a hair salon - this isn't true. Yeah, it sounds a lot worse than I had intended. This was mostly in jest. Sorry, didn't mean to raise any eyebrows.

 

DH

[chocolatelabguy]

I'm just chiming in, joining the rest of your minions awaiting the next posting with anticipation. I'll actually have to do work at my desk this day, as I've caught up on all the recent postings. This tome reads like a great novel, only funnier, and I can relate to DH in so many ways (not the socks, however - I'm a barefoot or sandals guy whenever possible). DH and Shaky, you have a wonderful family and a great rapport with one another. Keep up the great work, and best wishes.

[Delta Hotel]

I'm just chiming in, joining the rest of your minions awaiting the next posting with anticipation. I'll actually have to do work at my desk this day, as I've caught up on all the recent postings. This tome reads like a great novel, only funnier, and I can relate to DH in so many ways (not the socks, however - I'm a barefoot or sandals guy whenever possible). DH and Shaky, you have a wonderful family and a great rapport with one another. Keep up the great work, and best wishes.

 

I love chocolate labs! I prefer them over yellow labs. I realize that they're the same, just different colors based on some genetic lottery, but I like the brown ones better because they make me think of chocolate. Yellow labs make me think of vanilla, which I hate. HATE Vanilla.

 

Thanks for chiming in, Minion =) Glad you're enjoying my literary spewage!

 

DH

[Delta Hotel]

When we arrive at the MDR, we’re about 10 minutes late for our seating, and most of the dining room is already hopping with activity. Mom and Dad were late getting to dinner, too, so they had just sat down before we arrived.

 

We sit there for a while talking to Mom and Dad about Saint John and various other topics to pass the time. After a few minutes, we notice that we haven’t been greeted by our waiters (any of them) and I’ve only even seen one of them running around at other tables. We continue to wait patiently, they’re probably very busy… somewhere… with someone else’s orders… and beer. Eventually, Sentil comes by to hand us menus and apologizes for the wait. A few minutes never killed anyone… if you don’t count all of those people who died during some kind of time-sensitive event. But never mind that. After spending a few minutes deciding what we would like to order, we wait for Sentil or some other waiter to come back to take our orders.

 

I don’t know how much time passes, but I start to look around for one of our waiters. I can’t see any of them. I see lots of other waiters walking around, but none of our three. When we had a two-waiter system, I could usually find one of the two within a minute or two. They might be busy, but at least I could see them and keep an eye on them. Now, we have three waiters, and it’s taken 20 minutes for us to see one of them, just to have him drop off menus and then disappear again for 10 minutes.

 

Some time later, Sentil comes back to take our orders. For appetizers, both girls get the Chilled Creamy Bing Cherry Soup. The word “cherry” drew them in, and when Wifey told them that it was like the strawberry bisque (which I reminded them was basically strawberry ice cream that melted), they both wanted to try it as their “something new” so that they could get dessert. It seemed a little funny to give them dessert for trying cherry soup, but hey… we’re on a cruise.

 

When the chilled cherry soup finally comes out, Sentil sets the shallow bowl down in front of Daughter #1 and with his other hand, begins to pour the chilled soup half onto the cherries half. Daughters #1 and #2 watch with silent amazement and anticipation as Sentil fills the gleaming white bowl with the pink, liquid sweetness.

 

 

Once Sentil finishes pouring Daughter #1’s pre-entrée dessert, he repeats this process for Daughter #2, sitting just across the table. Daughter #1 doesn’t immediately indulge in her newly presented treat, but rather watches her sister’s bowl get filled. I assume that she’s re-living the enjoyment of watching the cherries get covered in the yummy pink liquid, and not waiting politely for everyone else to get their appetizers.

 

After both girls have their appetizers poured, and Sentil has left the table, they begin to try their “something new”. It’s not really necessary to say this, but both of them enjoy the chilled cherry soup, and are also excited at the idea of getting dessert for trying it.

 

 

 

I’m so busy taking pictures of the girls and their cherry soup that I don’t take any pictures of the adult’s appetizers, and have no idea what I ordered on this night. Probably my standard shrimp cocktail and something else, too. I don’t think there’s been a single night on any of our Carnival cruises that one of us doesn’t order the shrimp cocktail. It’s simple, consistently good, and a very non-committal appetizer since it’s such a small portion, and it’s not an over-powering taste or texture.

 

After finishing our appetizers, we sit for a while and wait for our entrees. Another long wait between dishes. I look around periodically to see what’s going on, but am always disappointed since I never actually find our waiters. Eventually, Sentil comes back to the table and apologizes for the wait on the entrees. He looks directly at me and says, [indian accent] “I am very sorry sir, but your Indian food was ready some time ago, and it has now gotten cold. I will send it back and request new dishes which will come out with your other order.”

I respond with, “Please don’t send it back to the kitchen. I’d like you to bring it out with the other dishes as soon as they’re ready. I don’t want my Indian food to delay the other dishes.”

“Yes, I understand, sir. I will bring it out immediately when the other dishes are ready” he says.

 

He brings out the Indian food first and sets it in front of me. He also brings out the other entrees at the same time. By now, I’m pretty hungry and I’m a bit frustrated by how long dinner is taking, that I don’t care to take many pictures. I don’t upset easily, and I’m definitely not a “must have food now” person, but the wait between items was painfully long. I snap a photo of my Indian dishes, and then start eating.

 

 

 

Tonight’s Indian food was ALL spicy… except the paper-thin cracker/tortilla thing. That still tasted like a saltine cracker without the salt. Wifey was so hungry that since my food came out first, she took a bit of the rice thinking that it was pretty safe. She was very disappointed to find out that it was not safe; it too was spicy. Spicy rice! SCORE! And they even brought me two bowls of it!

 

The “wet plate” has the usual three-bowl configuration, with one bowl being a mildly spicy combination of vegetables like tomatoes, green peppers, and carrots – either stewed (and drained) or steamed. The other bowl is a partially-mashed bowl of spicy bean soup. I’m not good with beans types, but I think it’s mostly garbanzo beans. The third bowl on the wet plate is an all-mashed bean soup having a consistency very similar to refried beans. I try a bite from this bowl, and don’t eat anymore of it. Not my kind of thing. I ate everything else, and enjoyed almost every bite of it. Toward the end, the partially-mashed bean soup began to feel like the all-mashed bean soup, so I didn’t like it as much.

 

We finish our entrees and move onto ordering dessert to help perk us up. I notice that the rest of the MDR is pretty much empty. All of the other waiters are replacing glasses, clearing tables, setting down new utensils and napkins for the late dinner seating. We’re only one of three tables that I can see with dinner guests. All of the tables near us are some form of cleared for the next seating.

 

Again, I don’t take many pictures tonight because of my dampened mood, and seeing as how my pictures serve as my photo memory… I have few memories of this night’s dinner, which may be a good thing since it kind of sucked… a lot.

 

So, I know what some of you might be thinking, “Stop being a spoiled jerk. You’re the ones that came to dinner late. You’re the people that are screwing up the dinner timing. You’re lucky to get anything at all!” OK, well, we did feel a little bad about coming in late, but that doesn’t explain the strange disappearance of our wait-staff. Really, we have three waiters, but through the entire meal, I never saw Nenand or the other-guy-whose-name-I-never-clearly-saw. Our 10 minutes of being late to the dining room translated into 30-45 minutes by the end of dinner.

 

Also, seated around us were tables with “Anytime Dining” guests. These are the guests that chose the dining option where you’re allowed to show up at any time, be seated, and be served the same dinner as everyone else. We saw several tables near us with Anytime Dining which were seated well after we sat down, yet received their appetizers, entrees, and desserts before we did. I had lots of time to notice other people eating their dinners. One table that showed up after us had already finished their dessert before we were finished with our entrees… but the key to this mystery is – [stroking chin slowly with one hand while raising one eyebrow] none of these other tables around us were being served by our team of waiters.

 

Back to dessert…

 

Below is a picture of Dad’s dessert plate. Wifey loooooves the Grand Marnier Soufflé, so when she sees it on the menu tonight, she’s got to have it. After hearing Wifey talk about the Grand Marnier Soufflé, he orders one as well as his lime sherbet.

 

 

Normally, I don’t order a dessert item other than my cappuccino, but tonight, I saw something on the dessert menu which seemed like a no-brainer. Even though I’m not much of a “food person”, I recognize that food can definitely affect a person’s short-term mood, well-being, or in some cases their consciousness. When I say “consciousness”, I’m not being all metaphysical or anything, I’m actually talking about their consciousness… I’ve seen people eat themselves into a light coma; if you can avoid witnessing this, I’d highly recommend it. I’ve never seen it end well.

 

As for dessert, I see “Cappuccino Pie” on the menu and don’t even think twice. I like cappuccino. I was going to order a cappuccino anyway. Pie is good. Make a cappuccino pie and put it on the menu, and that’s my pick-me-up for the evening. Bam. I get the Cappuccino Pie along with my hot cappuccino, and it helps make the world right again. Now if only I could find a damned sugar packet that I don’t have to crush with my spoon first…

 

 

Dinner is finally ending. Mom and Dad rush through dessert because they want to try and catch the comedy shows. Wifey, Mom, and Dad had seen that there are a couple of comedy shows tonight in the Ebony Cabaret. I don’t read the Fun Times, so I don’t offer any suggestions. There’s a 7:30PM show with Eddie Capone (which we’re already late for), and it’s labeled as “Family Friendly”. There’s also another “Family Friendly” comedy show at 8:30PM with Steve White.

 

Mom and Dad finish their desserts and we cut dessert short for the girls. The four of them leave the MDR and head straight for the comedy club hoping to catch most of the first show. Wifey and I tell them that we don’t want to rush through dessert and that we’ll catch up with them at the comedy club in a little while.

 

We’re FREE!

[crusing_guy]

Delta and Shaky,

 

I am yet another follower of your "Memoir"......I really enjoy your writing style and your humor. I am looking forward to future installments. I also work in the IT industry and have been working for the same company (a large grocery retailer in the south) for over 35 years.

 

You have a wonderful wife and adorable children. I will be sorry when your memoir of this cruise is over.....That is how much I have been enjoying reading it....

 

Thanks for sharing.....

 

Mike Tomlinson