+I'm Good At Being Other People+

.....A song? *shrugs*

~~~~~~~~

Just like an actor, I play many roles.
I pile on the clothes and the make-up, hide beneath it all.
People think I'm crazy, others think I'm fun.
Others know that I can become anyone.
Regardless of gender, age, or race,
I can change my body, my face.
Like a chameleon changes to its surroundings,
I'm good at standing out and good at blending.

I'm good at being other people,
but when am I going to be me?
It's hard to act like myself
when I can't find all the pieces of my personality.
I just can't feel better
when I'm not fully together.
I'm not being sincere when it comes to being me.

When I don't really feel it, I can put on a smile.
I can think of something sad and cry for a while.
I can make you think I'm mad when I'm really not,
just by the way I look.
I can use different voices, but none of them are mine.
I can act the part and quote movie lines.
I'm good at looking proud, happy, or sweet.
But, deep inside, I'm afraid of defeat.

I'm good at being other people,
but when am I going to be me?
It's hard to act like myself
when I can't find all the pieces of my personality.
I just can't feel better
when I'm not fully together.
I'm not being sincere when it comes to being me.

The fear I have hides itself well
behind the wall I put up.
Cover the cracks in my foundation
with layers of my own creations.
So afraid to fall.

I'm good at being other people,
but when am I going to be me?
It's hard to act like myself
when I can't find all the pieces of my personality.
I just can't feel better
when I'm not fully together.
I'm not being sincere when it comes to being me.



Successful song? O.O

You Must Be This Tall...

Note: A friend pointed out to me that immediately after my first blog, which told you that I don't write about my real life, I have since only written about my life. She finds it ironic, I suppose. ;) I, too, noticed this, but I wrote that first post before I went on vacation, and afterwards, my experiences had just been too out-of-the-normal for me that I decided it might be entertaining to write about. And thus, the long string of vacation blogs was born!


Now, before I continue to write about Day Four, I need to tell you something that I forgot to put in my last blog. On Day Three, I talked about "Senor Frog's Restaurant, Bar, and Clothesline" and how I still haven't figured out what the "clothesline" was. What I forgot to mention was the notice posted at the door of the bar: "You must be this tall to drink". That's right. Apparently, in the Bahamas, they treat drinking like they do roller coasters. If you're a really tall twelve year old, go at it! Poor forty year old midgets....


And now, on to Day Four, my last day on the cruise, and my best day!


~~~~~~~~~~~~




Day Four



Because I had gone to bed so late the previous night (and there was no window in my room to allow natural light in), I slept in very late. By the time I got up, the breakfast food in the cafeteria, if I may call it that, was being replaced with lunch food. Also, I woke up with a very bad headache. Before you say anything, no, it was not a hangover. I wasn't allowed to drink alcohol on the ship (and quite frankly, who wants to anyway? It smells awful, so I can't imagine how it tastes...). I had apparently been working on getting a head cold, because that's what I've got now. Ugh. Anyway, for most of the morning, I was just sitting at the table with my head down. But, at noon, my mom made me go with her and my dad and brother to a shipwide scavenger hunt. It was pretty confusing and the questions we had to ask were confusing. And the Guest Relations people were mean. I'm serious. Everyone on that ship was so much fun and so nice... except for the people hired to have that kind of job. A bit ironic, eh?


After the scavenger hunt, which had us running aaaaaalllllll over the ship (all twelve decks and across the span of it), we were tired. So, my mom, my grandma, and me all went to a towel folding demonstration. It was really cool to see how the staff members fold towels into those cute, little critters that they leave on your bed once they clean the room up. I got a pamphlet from them to learn how to make my own.


I wasn't feeling well at this point of the day. My headache and sore throat were not mixing well with the sloshing acid in my stomach due to the rocking waves that were moving the ship A LOT that day, so I went back to my room and took a nap while my parents went to a blackjack tournament (it wasn't played with real money, don't worry). As soon as they lost, they came and got me. We got ready for dinner and headed out to Claude's dining room on Deck 4.


It was nice to see Karian and Wilson again. They're such a cute team and they do their job really well. My parents wanted to go to the casino after dinner, so my brother and I stayed at Claude's for dessert. As we were finishing up, the head waiter announced that they were going to introduce the kitchen staff, so we stayed to watch them. Then, out of nowhere, all the staff gets in a huge conga line and they all parade around the restaurant to music! They were doing tricks like juggling wine bottles and balancing things on their heads (including lit candles, yikes!). Apparently this parade was a goodbye gesture to all of the guests. As soon as they were finished, the head waiter announced that he wanted everyone to be involved, so the music came on again. This time, it was the macarena. All the guests got up at their tables to dance (most of them had been drinking wine and were a bit wobbly...), and Karian and Wilson came over to dance with us. Now, Karian and Wilson took care of several tables as the waiters, but they chose us to dance with. We all laughed and danced around like fools. After everything was done, we shook hands with Karian and Wilson and left the restaurant.


I found my family in the casino (you only have to be 18 to gamble!) and told them about what they missed. Then, my grandma told me about what I missed. Apparently, as she was leaving, Karian gave her a hug and Wilson gave her a kiss. So, a bit disappointed and a tad jealous that I hadn't received a kiss from him, I marched up to my mother and said, "I'm going to go get a kiss from Wilson. ....That's okay, right?"


She just laughed and told me to do whatever I wanted. So, with my brother in tow (as he had nothing better to do, I guess), I marched back into the restaurant and found Karian and Wilson cleaning up dishes. As soon as they saw me, I looked at Wilson with my arms crossed and said, "My grandma just told me that you gave her a kiss. Where's mine?!" He looked like a deer caught in the headlights! It was so cute and funny! Karian started laughing and I opened up my arms to hug Wilson. So he laughed and hugged me, and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I swear, I just gave Karian blackmail material for that poor boy. Afterwards, Wilson decided to give me his email address so that we could keep in touch, and Karian gave me hers. I said my final goodbyes to them and went off to find my parents again as I listened to my brother complain about what he had just seen and how he couldn't believe he had followed me, and when was he going to learn not to trust me when I say I have something fun to do?


My parents, my brother, and I headed off for the farewell show at the Sound of Music Theater, called "Signed, Sealed, Delivered!". It was a pretty cute production of music throughout the decades. As soon as that was over, my brother headed over to his teen club to get his "girlfriend's" email address while my parents and I went to the nightclub for karaoke.


And guess who was heading the karaoke? None other than my British cutie, Stefan. To say the least, I was happy. I am a very outgoing person and did not skip a beat signing up for karaoke (not because of Stefan, Reader. I actually like to sing and perform in front of a crowd). I sang the song I always start out with, the one I'm most comfortable with and the one that karaokes usually have, "I Will Survive". This version was by Gloria Gaynor and had some pretty weird beats to it, but I rocked out anyway. Christy, the other entertainment staff, introduced me when Stefan asked who was up next. But Stefan misunderstood my name was "Angel", and called me "Angle". Usually, this would irritate the crap out of me because that's a very common mistake someone makes when they try to spell my name. However, the people I work with jokingly call me Angle on purpose, so I am pretty much desensitized to it by now.


When I corrected Stefan, he just laughed and said, "Damn my Dyslexia!" and continued on. He asked where I was from, and when he heard I was from Indiana, he asked if there were any other Indiana natives in the building. Two people roared and clapped. Stefan looked at them and went, "All right! Wait a second.. are those-"


"Those are my parents," I replied. Everyone laughed. Once we were finished introducing and making jokes, I sang my song. Everyone cheered, as I knew they would (aren't I just so humble?), and we listened to other singers as they wrapped karaoke up for the night (my dad sang a song too! But he's not as good as me. Sorry, Daddy!). I went over to Stefan and talked to him a bit. He wanted to hear my British accent, so I did it for him and he was ecstatic! He laughed and told me that I sounded just like his sister. And he wasn't being sarcastic! (HA! Take that, Gemma! I sound cockney, not Australian!)

Soon after, I dragged my dad over to Stefan so I could get a picture with him. Being the outgoing person Stefan is, and the outgoing person I am, we took a really crazy picture. Then I laughed and shook Stefan's hand to thank him for the photo. But, instead of shaking my hand, he bowed and kissed it!


It was very hard for me to keep in the squealing giggle I wanted so badly to let out.


My dad just rolled his eyes and went back to my mom as I said my goodbyes to Stefan and made my way back to my mom. Mom and I sat there for a while, listening to the live band that played afterward and talking while my dad had his last go at the casino.


Finally, at about one in the morning, we picked up my brother and headed off to bed. The next day was just full of check-outs, waiting, and plane rides and not interesting enough to be in a blog.


On a final note, I'll tell you why Day Four was my favorite day. You, Reader, may think it was because of the two cute boys that kissed me. Although this played a part in it, I cannot say it was the sole reason for my ecstasy by the end of that night. Throughout the entire vacation, I had nine members of my family with me. Most of the time, we were trying to spend time with everyone and divvy out activities to everyone. On this final day, my uncle and his fiancee' had wanted alone time, and my grandparents were super tired, and went to bed early. My brother had gone to his teen club for most of the day, which left me to hang out with my mom and dad. I am a very busy person, and so are my parents, and we don't get to spend much time with each other a whole lot. They work all day and I work all evening. All of us are going to school, so the free time we do have is spent doing homework. Really, the only time we get to spend with each other is in passing or in the car when Mom drops me off at school or something.


So, I have to say that Day Four was my favorite because I got to spend so much time with my parents. Don't get me wrong, I love hanging out with my grandparents and my uncle too, but having alone time with my mom and dad was really, really nice. It was wonderful that I could go with them anywhere and do anything with them. My favorite part of that day was probably during karaoke and afterwards, when I got about an hour with my mom by ourselves and we just talked. It certainly was a night to remember!


~~~~~~~~~


So now that you've suffered through the mundane writings of my real life (I tried to make it as interesting as possible!), I'll get on to the fictional stuff from now on. However, I have realized that it's not as hard to write about reality as I thought it would be, so you might be seeing more of these "reality blogs" more often than every seventy years.

~Angel

Where Oh Where Have The Tourists Gone?

Here's some more about my vacation to the Bahamas. In this post, I'll be talking about Day Three at Nassau!





Day Three



After eating breakfast at one of the two buffets onboard, my family and I decided to head out to Nassau, the capital of the Bahamas. Our ship wasn't going to leave until 11:30 that night, so we had the whole day there if we wanted. We gathered everyone up and headed out down the long (EXTREMELY LONG) gangway to the island. Upon stepping on the actual Bahama dirt, we were attacked by vendors and taxi drivers. The Bahamian culture is funny to me, a girl having been brought up in the midwest. In the Bahamas, everyone yells. And I don't mean shouts of joy or thanksgiving, I mean really pissed off-sounding yells. They all yell at each other like they're about to kill someone, but nobody seems to notice. One woman would yell at another for stealing her customers and the other woman would just smile and that would be that. They'd be fine again. Now, obviously used to tourists, the Bahamians didn't yell like that at us. They yelled in a different way. The kind of way that makes you feel like if you don't do what they tell you to, you're going to get a time-out. They never seemed angry to the tourists, just bossy. But watching them yell in their own language or cuss out other locals and then have the locals not react (or react in the same way, and when you thought there was a fight coming, you were wrong) was quite hilarious.


After we managed to escape the taxi driver that pulled us off of the beaten path to sell his taxi service to us, we made our way through the "welcome" building, or, as I like to call it, the tourist trap. It was a building with dozens of doors and only one entrance/exit. Every other door either said "no entrance" or "no exit". And there were police there to make sure you didn't go through the precious doors, although they all lead to the same place. Trying to find the right door to go through was hard enough. But trying to find the right door to go through as you weave around booths and avoid shouting vendors was even harder. When we finally made it to the right exit out of the building, we were pounced on by the hair braiders, specifically a woman named "Speedy Margaret". She was the most... erm... outgoing of the vendors I had seen thus far and I quickly avoided her nagging, leaving my mom to deal with her. Aren't I such a nice daughter? Anyway, as soon as we were free of Speedy Margaret, it was time to figure out where the hell we were. Luckily, my father was the only one using his brain that day and had brought a map from the welcome center. However, reading the map was going to be the difficult part. I'm not sure who the Bahamian cartographer is, but the next time they make a map, they need to put in more street names and take out more pub names. As soon as we figured out which way we were supposed to hold the map, we just sort of started walking. Apparently everyone figured that as long as we could see our ship, we'd be fine. I did not agree with this philosophy. As a person with no sense of direction and who easily gets lost in Wal-Mart, it is pertinent for me to be able to know where I am... and just wandering the streets of Nassau without so much as a clue to which direction is North is not my cup of tea, if I may use an expression Stefan had used before.


Again, depending where you are from, Reader, you may or may not know that the Bahamas (or Nassau, at least) are not the beautiful, tropical paradise shown on TV or imagined in people's minds. Nassau is a very poor city. Many of the buildings were run-down, trash littered the streets, and people were wearing less-than-okay clothing. Although this seemed to bother none of the locals, it was a bit strange for me. My mom had grown up on the south side of one of the cities of Indiana, where she was used to the tenements and the shady characters lining the streets and the smell of marijuana in the air (yes, the smell was very strong on the streets), but I never lived in an area like that, so to say the least, it was strange for me.


We made our way to the market on whatever-street-this-is and looked around at all the trinkets and souvenirs. It was at this time that my grandma's flip-flops had broken, so we were wandering around, looking for new ones to buy. There's one rule about buying something in the Bahamas though, that I think I should tell you in case you ever go: do not accept their prices. They are very used to haggling with locals, but they know that people from America don't haggle, so they jack up their prices, hoping you'll fall for it. My family, being the cheapskates they are, already knew this. So you can imagine what kind of deals we were getting by haggling. My mom got a twenty dollar beach bag for ten, my dad got a fifteen dollar cross necklace for eight. I got a twenty-five dollar Bob Marley-esque hat-with-dreads for fifteen. It's quite normal for those vendors to lower their prices, too. Being from the USA, if you ever tried to do that at a store, they'd probably get mad. But in the Bahamas, the vendors don't really care. They just care about making a sale, as one woman put it, and outselling their competitors.


Although it was a poor area, it was fun. Everyone was very happy, whether they were screaming at someone or not. The culture is very colorful and loud. Colorful, not only because there is a mixture of ethnicities and cultural backgrounds, but also because of the actual colors. Everything is painted in bright colors and all the clothes are never boring or Earth-toned. The culture is loud, not only because of the actual volume of the people, but also because every item, every article of clothing is loud. Nothing in the Bahamas is boring or restful, it's all very exciting and chaotic.


It was interesting to see how they spelled what they thought were English words as well. Instead of "favorite", things were "favor", instead of "things", they were "tings". There was even a bar we found called "Senor Frog's Bar, Restaurant, and Clothesline". We never figured out what the "clothesline" part of that meant....


Lost as ever but too stubborn to admit it, we tredged on through the crowded streets and skinny corridors lodged between tall, pastel-colored buildings, avoiding the shady characters sitting in alleys that would stare at us as we passed by. We eventually found a "general store" where my grandmother was able to find some flip-flops. After that, we made our way down another unknown street (we could still see the ship, though!) to a beach that had been on our map. When we got there, we realized why it was just a speck on the map. It was a very small beach with plastic lawn chairs and wooden picnic tables strewn throughout. There were a few small shacks near the front of the beach, away from the water, where vendors were playing Caribbean music and selling tee shirts, alcohol, ice cream, and other things. The only other beach-dwellers besides my family were two girls suntanning. Other than them, we were completely alone with no one but a few of the shady characters down the street that we had avoided earlier. While this creeped me out just a little (we had wandered into a more run-down area that resembled the south side of my former home city, plus we were lost, plus we were alone in this strange place), my mom was perfectly comfortable. She said it felt like home. She got changed into her swim suit (the only one bold enough to brave the freezing ocean waters) and we found a picnic table to sit at.


Soon enough, another vendor came along. I will probably never forget this lady. She was the cutest person I saw in Nassau. She had the sweetest personality, was so laid-back and helpful, and she dressed super cute for her looks. She had a bucket hat that she had cut the top out of to fit her dreads through, and a recognizably Bahama shirt on. She was selling jewelry, of course. Most of it was shells and such. My mom and I ended up buying anklets for five dollars each before admitting how horribly lost we were. The lady just laughed with us and explained where exactly we were. My dad said that we were trying to find a beach (the beach we were at probably shouldn't have been a beach at all...), and the lady responded with, "You're at a beach! Look at that beautiful water. Mmm mmm. You can lay out your towel and soak up the sun for free, and they rent out lawn chairs for five dollars a person. 'Dis beach is Junkanoo Beach, and it is soooo pretty!" Literally, those are the words from her mouth.


After lounging at the beach for a while, and avoiding stepping on the broken glass from beer bottles that littered the ground, my grandparents decided that they were too tired to keep walking and they were going back to the ship. So, we walked back to the ship, dropped them off along with my brother, and we were off again. This time, it was me, my dad, my mom, and my other grandma that had come with us on the trip. We decided that we wanted to head to Paradise Island, which was across the bay from Nassau. Taking a taxi there would have been four dollars, but Mom had seen a sign for a ferry for three dollars. Again, being the penny pinchers we are, we decided to take the ferry.


Now, when I say "ferry", I use the term loosely. It mainly means something with a motor that can float, because that's all that we were on. The "ferry" was more like a tuna can with a lawn mower engine and life jackets. It was a tiny tugboat that almost tipped over because of the waves (waves that weren't that big, either). And to make this trip even more interesting, our "captain" was drunk. That's right, beer-in-hand, wobbling (although, that may have been because of the waves...), drunk. But, he did manage to get us to Paradise Island intact. Of course, on the way back, we saw a tugboat that was sinking into the bay, which didn't help our confidence in our tuna can.


Paradise Island was beautiful- or, at least, what I saw of it. There were so many trees, it was hard to see over them or past them. We made our way to the Atlantis Resort, where my parents wanted to go to the casino. Normally, this would have been a problem for me considering my age, but in the Bahamas, you only have to be 18 to gamble. So we got to the Atlantis Casino, and my goodness! That place is immense! It was huge and beautiful with Greek and Roman-esque paintings covering the ceilings and statues of dragons and giant crystaline structures, and elaborate artwork, and... slot machines. But the slot machines were pretty too....


Once we had lost our money at the casino (well, Dad did. I came out seven bucks ahead!), we decided to take a taxi back to the cruise ships instead of our tuna can. One thing about the Bahamas that still wigs me out is that they all drive on the left side of the road. I may not be a good driver, but I'm pretty sure that here in America, we all drive on the right side of the road. I kept forgetting that it was different in the Bahamas. So, when our driver would turn right and go across traffic to get to the opposite lane, I was having a minor panic attack.


By the time we got back to the ship, it was too late for dinner. So we pretty much went straight to the nightly show at the Sound of Music Theater. This time it was a magician/comedian by the name of Carl Andrews. He was pretty good, and did a lot of neat slight-of-hand tricks, but he wasn't my favorite. Oh, and did I forget to mention the notice I saw in our day planner once we were back from Nassau? Yeah, there was a warning at the bottom of the page that told us there had been a rise in crime in Nassau and that no passengers should go off by themselves, leave the populated areas, or be without an escort. Yeah. That was after we came back from the island. And did anyone bother to tell us this? No, they just figured they'd stick the warning in the fine print at the bottom. Ugh.


The last event of the night was a "Dancing Under the Stars" Poolside Dance Party as we sailed away from Nassau and back out to sea. It was pretty fun... if you could ignore all the drunk people on the dance floor.... Ahem. Anyway, Stefan, Christy, and another entertainment staff member, Susan, were leading the dances that night and we even did a conga line around the decks. My mom got videos of it. The dance party was soon over at midnight and we stayed up a little bit longer to celebrate my grampa's birthday with him before we all hit the sack.


And next time, I'll write about Day Four. ;)

Iguanas, Chickens, and Crabs! Oh my!

Taking Royal Caribbean? Be prepared to walk. Don't get me wrong, I had lots of fun on vacation (you'll read more about my adventures later in this blog), but the ship that we were on had 12 floors, 2500 guests... and SIX elevators. That's right. SIX. Six elevators that didn't work part of the time and were very slow to getting to your floor. Yes, there were stairs, but who wants to walk up twelve stories? Especially when all the activities usually went on on Deck 11 or Deck 7, and our cabin was on the second floor? Not to mention that I had my grandparents with me, who couldn't make it up the stairs that far and had to use the elevators. Ugh. Another bad thing about the ship (which is a bad thing about all ships and the main reason I was afraid to go) is that we were in the ocean. With giant waves. ROCKING THE BOAT. Now, one thing that is the absolute truth about me and that I'm willing to share on this blog is that I get motion sick. And I'm not just talking about a little headache or loss of balance. I'm talking about an I-better-lay-down-right-now-or-I'm-gonna-puke-syndrome. You're probably wondering why I didn't take motion sickness pills. There are a few reasons for that, but the main one would be that I don't like taking medicine unless I absolutely need it. Why? Because I'm afraid of addictions. I have a few medicine-addictions in my family, so it runs very strongly through my blood. And besides... I hadn't puked yet, so I didn't need it. Right?


Well, anyway, I figure I better lay off the bad stuff and get on with the good. I'll tell you day by day how the vacation went, but I'm skipping the first day since we didn't do much but get settled in, eat, and sleep, and how boring would that have been? The only fun thing we did that night was watch a show in the Sound of Music Theater. It was a comedian named David O'rian, who had been the opening act for Seinfeld quite a few times. I laughed my butt off. That guy was so funny, I definitely recommend seeing him if you are able! After the show, we all just pretty much went to bed.




Day Two


The second day, our ship, The Monarch of the Seas, stopped at the Royal Caribbean private island of Coco Cay. Here, my family and I walked around the island like any old tourist. We swam in the ocean (I got sunburned after putting on SPF 90 FREAKING SUNBLOCK). We walked around the Straw Market and bought a few souvenirs. I got a windchime made out of seashells, and a cute dress that would be good for either a bathing suit cover up or a ballroom dancing dress (yes, it is styled very much like a ballroom dancing dress). Our ship was providing a BBQ lunch for us and after we ate, we walked around the island and found some really interesting wildlife. Over the edge of the dock, we saw some pretty big crabs running around on a rock along with some tropical fish in the water. Then, my dad spotted a "water snake", which looks pretty much like a thin blade of grass with a mouth. Then we listened to my mom freaking out because she realized that she had just swam in the water that housed these terrifying creatures.


Onward we marched through the island grass, avoiding all the loud vendors that wanted us to buy this, or sell us that for half price, or look at these. Once away from the Straw Market, we rested underneath a palm tree on some hammocks. Depending on where you are from, Reader, this may not be a big deal. But to a Hoosier like me (that would be someone that lives in Indiana, the freezing state of frozenness), sitting under a palm tree in your bathing suit and looking up at the coconuts that could fall on your head at any moment in the middle of January... was pretty sweet, to say the least. We also found an iguana and some chickens at this point in our journey. The chickens were doing what chickens do... which is mainly walk around, bobbing their heads and clucking, and then getting spooked and doing that attempt-to-fly-flutter-their-wings-thing and scream before seeming extremely embarrassed at their overreaction and scurrying away. The iguana... just sat there. On a rock. In the sun. And didn't move except to breathe. He was pretty boring.


Once back on the ship, my family and I went to dinner. The Monarch of the Seas (which we will abbreviate to TMotS) has a "fancy" restaurant that you get to eat at for dinner, called Claude's, and we had table number 40, which was the table assigned to our waiter, Karian, and our assistant waiter, Wilson. Karian was probably the sweetest person I met on vacation. She was in her early to mid twenties and learned all of our names very quickly. She was pretty good at speaking English, and while she did pronounce some of our names funny (everyone pronounced my name "Ahn-jel" instead of "Ayn-jel"), she made sure to remember us all. I think my family and I had the best waiter out of all of them in the restaurant, although every staff person was extremely nice. Our assistant waiter was named Wilson. He was twenty years old and very cute. He was in charge of the drinks and refills, handing out rolls and stuff like that. The previous night, my uncle and his fiancee' had gone to this restaurant and had already met the waiter and assistant waiter. So when I got there this night, my uncle introduced us all to the team. Upon being introduced to Wilson, I immediately told him he was cute. He smiled shyly and, if his complexion were as pale as mine, he would have blushed.


For dinner, you got to choose an appetizer (as many as you wanted, but I usually stuck with one), and a main course (or more, but again, it was usually just one). After the meal, Karian would come back to take our dessert order. That night, I had the BEST mushroom alfredo I have ever had in my entire life and probably will never get to eat again. *sigh* Oh well.


After dinner, we went to the nightly show held at the Sound of Music Theater on Deck 5. Sheesh, it's a little crazy how I remember exactly which Deck housed what, isn't it? Anyway, this night we were supposed to see a musician that did Motown music. On our way in, one of the entertainment crew was welcoming us and I noticed that he had a British accent. I told him that I love British accents and we started talking. His name was Stefan, and he was from London. He had only been in his job for four weeks and he was very good at it. Of course, being a huge Doctor Who fan (probably the biggest in America... or, at least, Indiana), I had to ask him if he watched Doctor Who. "Oh yes!" He replied in much the same way David Tennant does on the show. He was a huge fan of the Doctor, and, just like me and every other fan in the world, wished he could ride in the TARDIS. I knew I had made a new friend.


Once seated, Stefan and the other entertainment staff member, Christy, went up on stage to prepare us for the show. They danced and clapped and had the whole crowd going and I giggled uncontrollably at how cute Stefan looked onstage. Once finished with that, it was time for our Cruise Director, Warren Allen, to come onstage and let us know about the activities that were taking place after the show and the next day. After Warren left, it was time for the main act. Johnny Thunder appeared onstage. Now, if you don't know who Johnny Thunder is, you're either pretty young... or you don't pay attention to popular media much. Johnny Thunder was a member of a band known as the Drifters. The Drifters were popular some-such years ago at the same time that the Four Tops and the Temptations were popular. Johnny Thunder was seventy-seven years old and he still sang like he was twenty. He was absolutely magnificent. At the end of the show, he invited the audience to come up onstage with him and dance to his last song. Of course, there were only three or four people that took him up on that offer, but I was one of them. My uncle and I ran up onstage and did the swing (yes, a ballroom dance) to his last song of the night. I was onstage with Johnny Thunder!


After the show, my family and I made our way to the Circuit nightclub for an '80s Night Dance Party. That ran until midnight and by the end, we had lost half of our group to sleep. So, we all pretty much decided it was time for bed.


And that was day two of my vacation. Next time, I'll talk about Day Three at Nassau, Bahamas!


~Angel

I Do Not Write Non-Fiction

If it doesn't involve ghosts, werewolves, vampires, aliens, demons, or superheroes, I won't write about it. So, if you have come to this blog thinking that you're going to get to know me better, or to listen to a love story about my crush, or even to get involved with the drama that is my workplace, you've probably come to the wrong place. I do not enjoy writing non-fiction works, even for school, so why would I do it in my free time? No, if ever I write a non-fiction something-or-other, never trust that it is entirely true. I get bored very easily with life and reality, especially writing about it after I've already had to go through it once. So, be prepared for some exaggeration or fanciful language to spice it up a bit. This blog is not really about me, persay, but rather just a collection of writings of mine, most of them being fictional. If you find something about me, like a set of quotes or a short paragraph about my day, congratulations! It is a rare treat! Treasure it, because you may be seventy years old before you see another one like that*.

Now that I've clarified that this blog will be devoid of most writings about my everyday, boring life, let me tell you what it will be full of. Being a fictional writer, you probably already guessed that I write about adventures. But what you probably didn't think of, was that you were going to get trapped in those adventures, become part of them. Well, that's my goal anyway. When I write, I don't just write the story to keep me busy (although, that does happen sometimes...), I write the way I wish other people would write. I write so that even I get lost in the story, which means pleasant (or incredibly unpleasant) things for you, my reader. Be prepared, if you continue reading my blog, to be astounded!

...Or, at least, entertained.


*- Yes, I do write about my day, sometimes. But it doesn't happen very often unless it's extremely funny... or pathetic.