Once back in our room after GPS Love Fest, the feeling was somber. The room was clean and for the first time in 4 days you could see the 4 inches of counter space we had. For the last time, we all crawled into our tiny sleeping nooks and fell asleep to NKTV. One of the perks of the cruise which is New Kids TV, 24/7. I don't think we ever changed the channel. We knew the order of the video clips and were able to recite them by now. But as some asshole once said, all good things must come to an end. On a side note, I wish I knew who that douche was because, wow, talk about a party pooper. We slept, or napped for two hours, only to wake and be thrown back into our lives.
The cabin was silent due to either sadness or lack of sleep but no one was talking. It was over. The trip was over and the lingering effects go on for month. As we were de-boarding the ship, we ran into the Jareds to thank them for all they did. Putting this cruise together is no easy fete (in case I didn't mention it before, noses of a BH are strong and able to pick up any scent from miles away-- the FBI has nothing on us). So we sort of accidentally ended up in line for the elevator with the Jared's giving glowing reviews to the cruise and hoping, just hoping, word would travel back to Danny, Donnie, Jordan, Joe and Jon.
Once through security and customs, Sporty and I said our goodbyes to Baby. We jumped in a shuttle van and headed to another airport. The van was tight with other cruisers who bragged about their experiences.... fish tales I call them. Trying to to make other jealous. I popped in my ear buds, toned them out and listened to some old school hip hop while reminiscing about 90's night.
At the airport, we met DJ Cheapshot, who, by far is the sweetest man to walk to earth. Doll. Complete doll. Sporty and I were sleep deprived and this is when we learned everything is funnier when you are bleary.... Case in point: Sporty and I were sitting at one of those charging stations at the airport. The outlets were all filled. By now, Sporty and I had sucked the battery dry on our phone ins the two hours that we had Internet access since we were off the boat. We were charging iPods and IPhone with dozens of other people. Sporty, who was yes, still suffering from sunstroke, had her head down over her folded arms. I thought shew as asleep until some one's phone rang..... It went something like this:
Dude on Phone: (in the loudest voice possible says) "This is Doug"
(and without skipping a beat) Sporty looks at me: "Is it black Doug?"
Was it funny? Probably not but to this day, it think it may be the best line ever since I described Donnie's scent as what I would imagine God would smell like. After hours of sitting in the airport, it was finally time to board the plane which mean, simple, SLEEP. Thank you Jesus (in my Melissa Gorga voice). We found our seats, grabbed the nearest New Kid dad and prepared for our journey home. although I was so tired I had tears streaming down my face, I still drugged up on my xanax and braced myself for the flight home.
I mentally clicked my heels together three times and the next thing I new, the plane had landed. It was over. My journey, my oaf, my solitude..... was over. Within moments of hitting the tarmac, I became a wife, a mother, a daughter and an employee all over again. Sadness erupted from within until I realized one, truly important notion--- I get to do this shit all over again so....
DANNY, DONNIE, JORDAN, JOE AND JON---- ANNOUNCE THE FUCKING CRUISE ALREADY AND GET THIS PARTY STARTED!
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Ever Been to the Equator? I Have
The next morning we woke up on the sun. Not sure how we got there. Others on the boat referred to it "Key West, Florida." They were clearly mistaken, because there is no doubt, this was the sun. Holy fucking Christ was it hot. This was to be the last stop on our cruise journey and there was a tinge of melancholy in the air for the three of us. There were no shows for us to see that night.... The only thing I truly had to look forward to was Donnie's poker tournament and the New Kids Town Hall Meeting--- which I promise to get to soon. Fair warning though- I'll gt on my soap box.
In keeping with my motto "And this is why you don't get off the boat," this is why you don't get off the boat. Key West was.... aside from hot, TERRIBLE. There was such a build up to the exciting Key West but I was really unimpressed. Maybe if it wasn't 875 degrees, I would have enjoyed sitting out and having lunch and a cocktail but no. Anytime you see an outside bar with "misters"on to keep people cool, you know to pass. The evening's theme was GPS Love Fest which meant you had to dress up in a way that represented the country, state, culture, etc of where you were from. Baby being a huge fan of the local football team, planned to deck out in her gear and Sporty was going to go all Italia. I brought a t-shirt to wear of the local basketball team but I wasn't too excited about my pick. I was thinking showing some Italian pride was the way to go.
Key West is a typical tourist town with the streets aligned with bars, restaurants and tacky T-Shirt souvenir shops. Surely I could find a t-shirt saying Italian Princess, or something related. We journeyed into tacky shop, after tacky shop and I wasn't seeing anything. I did see many offensive Irish T-Shirts but surprisingly, nothing Italian. In one of our last stops, I finally asked the savant working the floor if they had any t-shirts about being Italian or was it possible to have one made. Her response, "Ooh Italian? No, we don't have anything like that here. But we do have Irish." Ok, so the Keys hates the Italians. Got it. Moving on.... There was a t-shirt with a picture of a fat guy on it that said, "I beat Anorexia" but Baby and I were the only ones who saw the humor in it. Besides, I clearly HAVE NOT beat it. Nonetheless, I thought that shit was funny.
By now I was all done, which as we know is beyond all set. We decided that it was time to get back on the boat and have a frozen cocktail to cool off. Sporty, still suffering from heat stroke, took a nap but Baby and I didn't walk, but ran to the bar. We sat there and jibber-jabbed until the Mack Daddy walked in and sat down. Here is where the shit gets good. Now, I'm not sure if these guys at the bar were New Kids security or extra security hired by the tour group, but small group of big, muscular, decent looking guys were at the bar clearly trying to nurse their hangovers by doing Jager shots. They were pretty low key but then, this 110 pound, 6 foot tall, blonde Mack Daddy came and sat down at the bar. He. Was. Awesome. In the fist 5 minutes he must have said he personally knew Donnie Wahlberg at least 8 times. This was clearly his maneuver to get the ladies.
I assume the scenario plays out something like this in his head (we will call him MD for short):
FC (female cruiser): So, are you a New Kids fan? Is that why you are on the cruise?
MD: Well, yeah, sort of.... I'm a personal friend of Donnie Wahlberg's (um allegedly).
FC: OMG! I just have to sleep with you.
If this exchange took place between myself or another spice girl.
Posh: So why are you on the cruise? are you a fan?
MD: Well, yeah, sort of... I'm a personal friend of Donnie Wahlberg's (um, allegedly)
Posh: Oh, then please can I fuck you. I'm sure having sex with you would totally get me closer to Donnie and I'm sure he would love your sloppy seconds, you douche.
He was a tool. Eventually he figured out how to fit in the way hotter, way cooler guys and from a distance, Baby and I heard,"Tonight's the last night and I need to get it in." I paraphrase of course but you get the idea of what this douche was trying to do. Baby and I rolled our eyes, paid the bill and went back to the room for my afternoon siesta. Undoubtedly, the sun soaked up all energy so sporty and I slept for hours until the official New Kids on the Block Town Hall Meeting. This is VERY important for BH's because it gives us a chance to ask those burning questions such as when is the next album, do you have a professional masseuse and would you mind sharing with us the secret locations where you like to spend your free time.
We moved slightly off the equator by now but I was still sweating like a whore in church. Baby and I secured three spots in the shade with a slight view of the stage. Meanwhile, I thought, these 5 assholes cannot possibly be sitting in this blazing hot sun...... but they came out, and they did. As the meeting droned on, the three of us kept cool in the shade, near an a/c vent behind a bar. The bar is a very common place to find us trying to scrounge up water so we won't die. The questions posed to the guys were taken via twitter from the fans prior to the cruise. In all of his sagaciousness, Donnie decided to field questions from the audience. This. Was. Not. A. Good. Idea.
I never saw her, but I did hear her voice bellow throughout the PA system with the question... *ahem* "Why is it all the t-shirts in the gift shop are made only to fit the skinny bitches?"
.....I'll let that marinate for a moment but please keep in mind, the shirts went up to 3XL.
(insert jeopardy theme song here)
Ok, ready? Here is comes. WHAT THE FLYING FUCK? Now, as one of these skinny bitches (and by skinny bitch she clearly means anyone who does NOT fit in a 3XL) I take exception to this statement. I am a small.... actually an extra small.... so clearly she must hope that I die. But my point is this: if I said fat bitch to ANY OF THE HUNDREDS of women on the boat, I would have been knocked the fuck out. So, here's the lay of the land: skinny bitch is just as derogatory and insulting as fat bitch. My advice: Don't go to the buffet that 15th time and maybe you too can fit in the 3XL.
Sadly, the night only got worse from there. Although I was able to attend the poker tournament and watch Donnie, there was less excitement since World of Useless was... um, emceeing? At least I think that's what he was doing. It didn't last long and seeing as how this was the last night on the ship, we ran to the lido deck, foam fingers in hand. Sporty and I were determined, even after my near death experience to try and have these fingers signed again. As usual, Donnie was the first to move through the crowd and I ran as fast as my Nikes let me to get near him but, I as the scrappy running back, I fervently try to avoid being tackled by 800 linebackers, aka, Donnie Wahlberg fans. Just like in slo-mo instant replay, I saw the potential for danger and out loud, in typical only child fashion, said "Fuck this muthafucking shit." ....and went back to dancing.
Sporty, who is much scrappier than I, made an attempt to have her foam finger signed by Joey. On the inside, I chuckled to myself, "Ha,ha, ha. Ok.... Poor Sporty.... She just doesn't get it." I kept turning behind me to watch her attempt to reach the platform stage where he was standing in a Celtics jersey and kilt when all of a sudden.... something wonderful happened. Angels appeared and there was bright lights with music...... and just like that Joe fans, were---- HELPING other Joe fans. They passed pictures and room keys and shirts and hats and yes, even that foam finger. There was no pushing. There was no shoving. Sporty emerged unscathed. I was, well, I was in awe. And at the same time happy for my friend. Then something went terribly, terribly wrong.
DRUNK GIRLS EMERGED
First, Baby, the sweetest of the group was approached by the drunk southern belles and was asked to borrow her foam finger for their picture. Being normal and sweet, she agreed. When I tapped her on the shoulder, I said, "what was that all about?" and after she explained what just happened I looked at her, puzzled and said, "What the fuck did you do that for? Tell her to get her own fucking finger." She laughed. I laughed. And again we went back to dancing but the sharks were still swimming in the water as baby was tapped on the shoulder yet again. I'm funking up my groove and gettin' down until I notice Sporty being called over. This was it. The moment Baby and I waited for since the last cruise. We were about to have our asses airlifted off the boat before it docked because Sporty reached down some one's throat and ripped out their lung (on a side note, although I have never seen her do it, I can vouch for the fact that she is COMPLETELY capable of such violence).
I tip toe over to the circle and I hear this brave stupid belle ask Sporty, "Can I take a picture with your foam finger?" Oh dear mother of God, please tell me she didn't just ask that........ By now, Baby and I are not breathing for fear of what was about to transpire. Sporty, politely, at first said, "No, I'm sorry. This is signed." Now, girls steal one an other's signed shit all the time so I didn't blame her. I didn't even want Baby sharing hers and it was unsigned. The brainless belle couldn't, just couldn't let it lay.... As she was walking back to her friends, mumbling, all I heard was Sporty yell, "Excuse me, is there a problem?" I plead the Fifth on what transpired.
There is no better way to end this blog entry than with a discussion of the Wahlberg flu. Hands down, this may be my most favorite and most jealous moment of the cruise. As I've previously mentioned, contrary to last cruise, Donnie's lips touched all 2700 women on the boat this year. As he walked by me in the crowd, he (sadly) recognized my face and gave me a big smooch. Then he kissed Sporty and Baby yelled in a ooh-how-cute! tone, "You got a kiss too." As my Donnie leaned in, to make Baby's life worth living, she stuck out her cheek and later said, "I didn't want those lips anywhere near me....." and at that, pizza slices in hand, we called it a night.
In keeping with my motto "And this is why you don't get off the boat," this is why you don't get off the boat. Key West was.... aside from hot, TERRIBLE. There was such a build up to the exciting Key West but I was really unimpressed. Maybe if it wasn't 875 degrees, I would have enjoyed sitting out and having lunch and a cocktail but no. Anytime you see an outside bar with "misters"on to keep people cool, you know to pass. The evening's theme was GPS Love Fest which meant you had to dress up in a way that represented the country, state, culture, etc of where you were from. Baby being a huge fan of the local football team, planned to deck out in her gear and Sporty was going to go all Italia. I brought a t-shirt to wear of the local basketball team but I wasn't too excited about my pick. I was thinking showing some Italian pride was the way to go.
Key West is a typical tourist town with the streets aligned with bars, restaurants and tacky T-Shirt souvenir shops. Surely I could find a t-shirt saying Italian Princess, or something related. We journeyed into tacky shop, after tacky shop and I wasn't seeing anything. I did see many offensive Irish T-Shirts but surprisingly, nothing Italian. In one of our last stops, I finally asked the savant working the floor if they had any t-shirts about being Italian or was it possible to have one made. Her response, "Ooh Italian? No, we don't have anything like that here. But we do have Irish." Ok, so the Keys hates the Italians. Got it. Moving on.... There was a t-shirt with a picture of a fat guy on it that said, "I beat Anorexia" but Baby and I were the only ones who saw the humor in it. Besides, I clearly HAVE NOT beat it. Nonetheless, I thought that shit was funny.
By now I was all done, which as we know is beyond all set. We decided that it was time to get back on the boat and have a frozen cocktail to cool off. Sporty, still suffering from heat stroke, took a nap but Baby and I didn't walk, but ran to the bar. We sat there and jibber-jabbed until the Mack Daddy walked in and sat down. Here is where the shit gets good. Now, I'm not sure if these guys at the bar were New Kids security or extra security hired by the tour group, but small group of big, muscular, decent looking guys were at the bar clearly trying to nurse their hangovers by doing Jager shots. They were pretty low key but then, this 110 pound, 6 foot tall, blonde Mack Daddy came and sat down at the bar. He. Was. Awesome. In the fist 5 minutes he must have said he personally knew Donnie Wahlberg at least 8 times. This was clearly his maneuver to get the ladies.
I assume the scenario plays out something like this in his head (we will call him MD for short):
FC (female cruiser): So, are you a New Kids fan? Is that why you are on the cruise?
MD: Well, yeah, sort of.... I'm a personal friend of Donnie Wahlberg's (um allegedly).
FC: OMG! I just have to sleep with you.
If this exchange took place between myself or another spice girl.
Posh: So why are you on the cruise? are you a fan?
MD: Well, yeah, sort of... I'm a personal friend of Donnie Wahlberg's (um, allegedly)
Posh: Oh, then please can I fuck you. I'm sure having sex with you would totally get me closer to Donnie and I'm sure he would love your sloppy seconds, you douche.
He was a tool. Eventually he figured out how to fit in the way hotter, way cooler guys and from a distance, Baby and I heard,"Tonight's the last night and I need to get it in." I paraphrase of course but you get the idea of what this douche was trying to do. Baby and I rolled our eyes, paid the bill and went back to the room for my afternoon siesta. Undoubtedly, the sun soaked up all energy so sporty and I slept for hours until the official New Kids on the Block Town Hall Meeting. This is VERY important for BH's because it gives us a chance to ask those burning questions such as when is the next album, do you have a professional masseuse and would you mind sharing with us the secret locations where you like to spend your free time.
We moved slightly off the equator by now but I was still sweating like a whore in church. Baby and I secured three spots in the shade with a slight view of the stage. Meanwhile, I thought, these 5 assholes cannot possibly be sitting in this blazing hot sun...... but they came out, and they did. As the meeting droned on, the three of us kept cool in the shade, near an a/c vent behind a bar. The bar is a very common place to find us trying to scrounge up water so we won't die. The questions posed to the guys were taken via twitter from the fans prior to the cruise. In all of his sagaciousness, Donnie decided to field questions from the audience. This. Was. Not. A. Good. Idea.
I never saw her, but I did hear her voice bellow throughout the PA system with the question... *ahem* "Why is it all the t-shirts in the gift shop are made only to fit the skinny bitches?"
.....I'll let that marinate for a moment but please keep in mind, the shirts went up to 3XL.
(insert jeopardy theme song here)
Ok, ready? Here is comes. WHAT THE FLYING FUCK? Now, as one of these skinny bitches (and by skinny bitch she clearly means anyone who does NOT fit in a 3XL) I take exception to this statement. I am a small.... actually an extra small.... so clearly she must hope that I die. But my point is this: if I said fat bitch to ANY OF THE HUNDREDS of women on the boat, I would have been knocked the fuck out. So, here's the lay of the land: skinny bitch is just as derogatory and insulting as fat bitch. My advice: Don't go to the buffet that 15th time and maybe you too can fit in the 3XL.
Sadly, the night only got worse from there. Although I was able to attend the poker tournament and watch Donnie, there was less excitement since World of Useless was... um, emceeing? At least I think that's what he was doing. It didn't last long and seeing as how this was the last night on the ship, we ran to the lido deck, foam fingers in hand. Sporty and I were determined, even after my near death experience to try and have these fingers signed again. As usual, Donnie was the first to move through the crowd and I ran as fast as my Nikes let me to get near him but, I as the scrappy running back, I fervently try to avoid being tackled by 800 linebackers, aka, Donnie Wahlberg fans. Just like in slo-mo instant replay, I saw the potential for danger and out loud, in typical only child fashion, said "Fuck this muthafucking shit." ....and went back to dancing.
Sporty, who is much scrappier than I, made an attempt to have her foam finger signed by Joey. On the inside, I chuckled to myself, "Ha,ha, ha. Ok.... Poor Sporty.... She just doesn't get it." I kept turning behind me to watch her attempt to reach the platform stage where he was standing in a Celtics jersey and kilt when all of a sudden.... something wonderful happened. Angels appeared and there was bright lights with music...... and just like that Joe fans, were---- HELPING other Joe fans. They passed pictures and room keys and shirts and hats and yes, even that foam finger. There was no pushing. There was no shoving. Sporty emerged unscathed. I was, well, I was in awe. And at the same time happy for my friend. Then something went terribly, terribly wrong.
DRUNK GIRLS EMERGED
First, Baby, the sweetest of the group was approached by the drunk southern belles and was asked to borrow her foam finger for their picture. Being normal and sweet, she agreed. When I tapped her on the shoulder, I said, "what was that all about?" and after she explained what just happened I looked at her, puzzled and said, "What the fuck did you do that for? Tell her to get her own fucking finger." She laughed. I laughed. And again we went back to dancing but the sharks were still swimming in the water as baby was tapped on the shoulder yet again. I'm funking up my groove and gettin' down until I notice Sporty being called over. This was it. The moment Baby and I waited for since the last cruise. We were about to have our asses airlifted off the boat before it docked because Sporty reached down some one's throat and ripped out their lung (on a side note, although I have never seen her do it, I can vouch for the fact that she is COMPLETELY capable of such violence).
I tip toe over to the circle and I hear this brave stupid belle ask Sporty, "Can I take a picture with your foam finger?" Oh dear mother of God, please tell me she didn't just ask that........ By now, Baby and I are not breathing for fear of what was about to transpire. Sporty, politely, at first said, "No, I'm sorry. This is signed." Now, girls steal one an other's signed shit all the time so I didn't blame her. I didn't even want Baby sharing hers and it was unsigned. The brainless belle couldn't, just couldn't let it lay.... As she was walking back to her friends, mumbling, all I heard was Sporty yell, "Excuse me, is there a problem?" I plead the Fifth on what transpired.
There is no better way to end this blog entry than with a discussion of the Wahlberg flu. Hands down, this may be my most favorite and most jealous moment of the cruise. As I've previously mentioned, contrary to last cruise, Donnie's lips touched all 2700 women on the boat this year. As he walked by me in the crowd, he (sadly) recognized my face and gave me a big smooch. Then he kissed Sporty and Baby yelled in a ooh-how-cute! tone, "You got a kiss too." As my Donnie leaned in, to make Baby's life worth living, she stuck out her cheek and later said, "I didn't want those lips anywhere near me....." and at that, pizza slices in hand, we called it a night.
Friday, August 24, 2012
Deep Throat
I remember the night clearly. Baby had come by to do our ritual pre-cruise planning (ideas for door decorating, them night outfits, etc). This year the boys switched it up and added 90's night. What was the first thing she and I thought of? Flannel shirts and Doc Martens. Um.... No. Not ever happening again. Did I own both? Sure. Have they been burned? Hell yeah. Then Baby looked at me and said, "Spice Girls." I was intrigued and scared all at the same time. Could we pull it off? Well, in the words of a dear friend when I asked if this was a good idea, he said, "All day AND tomorrow." Well, I guess that's that and suddenly, we emerged as Baby, Sporty and.... Posh.
Fast forward to 90's night on the boat. This was a HUGE night for me. In mere hours, I was about to be part of D-Dub's backrub. A show which was a first come, first serve event had now become part of the guys repertoire of evening entertainment. I was guaranteed a FRONT ROW seat. No anxiety for the first time in 3 years of cruising because I was in. Nothing could stop me. Prior to the show, I knew I had to make my costume work. Baby looked awesome in her pink baby doll dress, pigtails complete with hot pink boa feathers as bows and a squeaky, phallic, pacifier around her neck. Sporty worked it in her wrist bands and head band. And me, well I literally pulled a dress and platforms out of the closet that I currently own. Decked out in a slinky off the shoulder mini-mini-mini dress and gold platform Giuseppe Zanotti's, the final piece de resistance was my oversized black Dior sunglasses. It may have taken hours to straighten my rapunzel length hair but I worked it. I was Posh and I was ready to go.
As usual, no evening would be complete without these Italian bitches causing a ruckus. On the bitch scale, it goes Sporty, Me and Baby. Baby is just sweet natured in general and her smile warms the ice off our hearts but cross her and you're fucked. Don't let her exterior fool you. Sporty and I on the other hand? We don't hide it as well. As a matter of fact, Sporty brings out my Italian pride even more (here's a little secret, I know I can't fight so I only mouth off around her because due to her true Italian loyalty, she will fuck a bitch up for any of her friends). So, as we were standing in line for the back rub, we attempted to take a picture but, the line began to move. At that point, all hell broke loose. We were trying to take this picture, the lines starts to move and some fan begins to stroke out because we aren’t moving with the line. “UM, THE LINE IS MOVING.” The three of us turn to look at her with our bitch face as she cut us in line…. The line we were waiting in for the show where we have assigned seating. Yup. ….and that’s all I have to say about that.
Once inside, I see Timmy and cringe. Oh no—this guy is not going to fuck up this groove. I was able to snag the same seat that I had the previous nights (apparently this girl claimed to be a big Donnie fan but missed the back rub—I don’t get it). I ordered a cocktail…. A Miami Vice (tradition) in preparation of what was about to happen. The stage was set with white leather furniture and red lighting… yes, D-Dub’s own Red Room of Pain. I hungered with anticipation.
The lights dimmed…. Women started screaming….. Freak Me by Silk was playing….. Then, like a vision, Donnie appeared in the same purple satin smoking jacket from the other night. World of Useless, his sidekick, was throwing down rose petals at his feet as he walked toward the stage. I stopped breathing. Now, Sporty hates this shit and thought it was ridiculous. Baby gets it—she gets me. I was on the edge of my seat, as usual, while I listened to him whisper in these women’s ears, watched him feed them strawberries and lick, yes, LICK, champagne off of them. *SWOON* The next thing I know, his robe is off, his shirt is off, his pants are falling off his hips and all I can say (to myself, and now you), “Oh My God. I don’t think he’s wearing underwear.” That pretty much sealed it for me. Everything else is a blur.
We have called it Cinemax after Dark and showed up with our Shamwow! panties but this year, well, he took it to a whole new level (thank you Christian Grey). I don’t remember much because I am almost positive that I passed out from not being able to breathe, but I do recall him handcuffing some lucky woman on stage. Hmmm… Donnie… handcuffs…. Do I need to say anymore? This Spice girl was 50 shades of red hot after this back rub. I sat there numb. Unable to describe what I had seen and heard exactly. This was mind porn and Donnie was Deep Throat. Not sure what happened next…. I think Jordan performed or something.
Once I was able to walk and unglue myself from my seat, the other Spices and I went to freshen up for the deck party for 90’s night. We were about to enter hip hop heaven, or Calcutta in August (it was by far the HOTTEST night on the boat). The night was filled with songs from our high school years and college years. DJ Cheapshot kicked it off and we were all dancing away. Then, as Donnie said, it was time to Face the Music. Yes, they came out in their full on we-are-no-longer-New-Kids-on-the-Block-so-call-us-NKOTB-because-we-are-hardcore-now gear. In other words, they sang Dirty Dawg. Something I’d only seen them do once in a very very small club without Jon Knight. They busted out their old school gear and Donnie wore a “Hardware” hat bringing me right back to an age when I remember starting to love the bad boys. Next they sang, You Got the Flava. Another oldie that I’ve only seen live once. They were fierce: Joe was able to say fuck a lot and Donnie rapped. I was now, literally, in utopia. But the fun was only beginning….. Soon, Naughty By Nature took the stage and the music was truly hip hop history.
Vin Rok and Trigger Treach took over the boat and the DJ booth that night. I danced to Salt ‘n Pepa, Heavy D, C+C Music Factory, TLC, Snoop Dogg… the list just goes on. I was having the time of my life, even though my little dress was soaked from the sweat. I became brave suddenly and declared (again to myself), “I AM GOING INTO THE TRENCHES AND I WILL HAVE DONNIE SIGN MY FOAM FINGER.” Donnie was atop the back stage signing pictures, room keys, etc for a bunch of fans so in my platform stilettos, I decided I was going to go in…. Now, I’m a pretty small person. Without the heels, I’m fun-sized at 5’1” and a HALF. I could squeeze through no problem. Here’s where the plan goes REALLY BAD.
I’m able to get into the crowd but, once I’m in, I can’t move. It’s like a death grip. There was a mountain of women around me trying to get their shit signed and I couldn’t get my foam finger to him. No one would let me near Donnie. I was pushed, elbowed, hit- everything. Finally, I was all done (all done come way after all set). I couldn’t take it anymore but I faced a HUGE obstacle: the crowd. Getting out was nearly impossible. I used the only weapon I had available at the time… me. So I did what every other Donnie girl does, I threw my body into people to try and get out. Sadly, this plan failed as well. I was no Mighty Mouse. There was only one thing left to do and so, with as much class as I could, I dropped to the ground amid the sweat, spilled drinks and cigarette butts and attempted to crawl out. Some angel of mercy saw me and pulled me up out of the crowd. This girl obviously wasn’t a Donnie fan--- she was too nice. As I was being pulled to safety, some asshole tried to trip me down the stairs. Nice.
We called it a night at 5 am.
Fast forward to 90's night on the boat. This was a HUGE night for me. In mere hours, I was about to be part of D-Dub's backrub. A show which was a first come, first serve event had now become part of the guys repertoire of evening entertainment. I was guaranteed a FRONT ROW seat. No anxiety for the first time in 3 years of cruising because I was in. Nothing could stop me. Prior to the show, I knew I had to make my costume work. Baby looked awesome in her pink baby doll dress, pigtails complete with hot pink boa feathers as bows and a squeaky, phallic, pacifier around her neck. Sporty worked it in her wrist bands and head band. And me, well I literally pulled a dress and platforms out of the closet that I currently own. Decked out in a slinky off the shoulder mini-mini-mini dress and gold platform Giuseppe Zanotti's, the final piece de resistance was my oversized black Dior sunglasses. It may have taken hours to straighten my rapunzel length hair but I worked it. I was Posh and I was ready to go.
As usual, no evening would be complete without these Italian bitches causing a ruckus. On the bitch scale, it goes Sporty, Me and Baby. Baby is just sweet natured in general and her smile warms the ice off our hearts but cross her and you're fucked. Don't let her exterior fool you. Sporty and I on the other hand? We don't hide it as well. As a matter of fact, Sporty brings out my Italian pride even more (here's a little secret, I know I can't fight so I only mouth off around her because due to her true Italian loyalty, she will fuck a bitch up for any of her friends). So, as we were standing in line for the back rub, we attempted to take a picture but, the line began to move. At that point, all hell broke loose. We were trying to take this picture, the lines starts to move and some fan begins to stroke out because we aren’t moving with the line. “UM, THE LINE IS MOVING.” The three of us turn to look at her with our bitch face as she cut us in line…. The line we were waiting in for the show where we have assigned seating. Yup. ….and that’s all I have to say about that.
Once inside, I see Timmy and cringe. Oh no—this guy is not going to fuck up this groove. I was able to snag the same seat that I had the previous nights (apparently this girl claimed to be a big Donnie fan but missed the back rub—I don’t get it). I ordered a cocktail…. A Miami Vice (tradition) in preparation of what was about to happen. The stage was set with white leather furniture and red lighting… yes, D-Dub’s own Red Room of Pain. I hungered with anticipation.
The lights dimmed…. Women started screaming….. Freak Me by Silk was playing….. Then, like a vision, Donnie appeared in the same purple satin smoking jacket from the other night. World of Useless, his sidekick, was throwing down rose petals at his feet as he walked toward the stage. I stopped breathing. Now, Sporty hates this shit and thought it was ridiculous. Baby gets it—she gets me. I was on the edge of my seat, as usual, while I listened to him whisper in these women’s ears, watched him feed them strawberries and lick, yes, LICK, champagne off of them. *SWOON* The next thing I know, his robe is off, his shirt is off, his pants are falling off his hips and all I can say (to myself, and now you), “Oh My God. I don’t think he’s wearing underwear.” That pretty much sealed it for me. Everything else is a blur.
We have called it Cinemax after Dark and showed up with our Shamwow! panties but this year, well, he took it to a whole new level (thank you Christian Grey). I don’t remember much because I am almost positive that I passed out from not being able to breathe, but I do recall him handcuffing some lucky woman on stage. Hmmm… Donnie… handcuffs…. Do I need to say anymore? This Spice girl was 50 shades of red hot after this back rub. I sat there numb. Unable to describe what I had seen and heard exactly. This was mind porn and Donnie was Deep Throat. Not sure what happened next…. I think Jordan performed or something.
Once I was able to walk and unglue myself from my seat, the other Spices and I went to freshen up for the deck party for 90’s night. We were about to enter hip hop heaven, or Calcutta in August (it was by far the HOTTEST night on the boat). The night was filled with songs from our high school years and college years. DJ Cheapshot kicked it off and we were all dancing away. Then, as Donnie said, it was time to Face the Music. Yes, they came out in their full on we-are-no-longer-New-Kids-on-the-Block-so-call-us-NKOTB-because-we-are-hardcore-now gear. In other words, they sang Dirty Dawg. Something I’d only seen them do once in a very very small club without Jon Knight. They busted out their old school gear and Donnie wore a “Hardware” hat bringing me right back to an age when I remember starting to love the bad boys. Next they sang, You Got the Flava. Another oldie that I’ve only seen live once. They were fierce: Joe was able to say fuck a lot and Donnie rapped. I was now, literally, in utopia. But the fun was only beginning….. Soon, Naughty By Nature took the stage and the music was truly hip hop history.
Vin Rok and Trigger Treach took over the boat and the DJ booth that night. I danced to Salt ‘n Pepa, Heavy D, C+C Music Factory, TLC, Snoop Dogg… the list just goes on. I was having the time of my life, even though my little dress was soaked from the sweat. I became brave suddenly and declared (again to myself), “I AM GOING INTO THE TRENCHES AND I WILL HAVE DONNIE SIGN MY FOAM FINGER.” Donnie was atop the back stage signing pictures, room keys, etc for a bunch of fans so in my platform stilettos, I decided I was going to go in…. Now, I’m a pretty small person. Without the heels, I’m fun-sized at 5’1” and a HALF. I could squeeze through no problem. Here’s where the plan goes REALLY BAD.
I’m able to get into the crowd but, once I’m in, I can’t move. It’s like a death grip. There was a mountain of women around me trying to get their shit signed and I couldn’t get my foam finger to him. No one would let me near Donnie. I was pushed, elbowed, hit- everything. Finally, I was all done (all done come way after all set). I couldn’t take it anymore but I faced a HUGE obstacle: the crowd. Getting out was nearly impossible. I used the only weapon I had available at the time… me. So I did what every other Donnie girl does, I threw my body into people to try and get out. Sadly, this plan failed as well. I was no Mighty Mouse. There was only one thing left to do and so, with as much class as I could, I dropped to the ground amid the sweat, spilled drinks and cigarette butts and attempted to crawl out. Some angel of mercy saw me and pulled me up out of the crowd. This girl obviously wasn’t a Donnie fan--- she was too nice. As I was being pulled to safety, some asshole tried to trip me down the stairs. Nice.
We called it a night at 5 am.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Trojan Men
I know I'll take shit for this but I have to share the story of where the one liners began. I promise to be gentle. As we waited in yet another super long NKOTB line (all I ever do is fucking wait for these guys), Sporty moaned in agony and fought to stay awake. We found some comfy couches and decided that there was no need to stand because there is assigned seating. Clearly we were the only ones in on THAT secret since the line wrapped for miles. Sporty decided to curl up in the fetal position behind a cheesy photo op backdrop with only her head peaking out. Baby and I just chatted and took in the sights. WOW. WOW. WOW. Ok, it is no secret that I have weight issues and I would never call anyone the "f" word IN MY LIFE but the thing is, some of these women are overweight to the point that it is EXTREMELY unhealthy. That being said, ladies know your fucking limits. If you are plus size fabulous, do not try and shop at Forever 21. Please. I admire and envy your self esteem but please, wear clothes that fit you. Hypocritical coming from me? Yes. I will wear a size 12 even though I'm a size 2 but I'm fucked up. What's your excuse? Anyway, I digress.....
Out of the corner of Sporty's eye, she notices a girl standing in line wearing one of the god awful free NKOTB Cruise 2012 backpacks that look good on, um, NO ONE and says, very matter of factly, "on anyone else that backpack would look like a suitcase." Baby and I lost all control. Laughter erupted, tears were shed, urine leaked... It wasn't even what she said but how she said it that made us fall over. From that moment on, Sporty became constant comic relief for the remainder of the cruise. Some of the more famous one liners:
Sporty: Shut up, I have heat stroke (this was how mostly every sentence ended)
Sporty: Fuck off _____
Sporty: I'm going to knock a bitch out.
Sporty: I can't fucking take these God Damn people. Jesus Christ
Sporty (to random people): Is there a problem? Do you have a problem?
Me: I am only allowed 20 minutes of exercise a day.
Sporty: ____, if I hear you say that one more time, I'll strangle you.
Obviously these are all inside jokes and only Baby and Sporty are laughing but I had to share. I'm sure there are more but these were heard just about every hour or so. Sporty's fabulous rating is a 10 which is why she is allowed to bunk with us but on top of that, she's our Earl, World of Useless and Jared all rolled into one.
Finally the line begins to move and we entered into Danny's one man show followed by Joe's one man show. Danny is amazing--- he's made for a genre that isn't pop. His voice is incredible and when he sings acoustically, he sounds amazing. He's sweet, funny and nice. A real person. Side story to attest to Danny's incredibleness: Sporty and I stood in line for hours for a CD signing in Boston for The Block. It would be her first time ever meeting them and my first encounter with them since I was 18. When I saw Donnie and all his glory, all I could say was, "Donnie, I'm 14 weeks pregnant and got up at 4 am to get here to see you. I love you so much." Yup. I'm an idiot. Danny, who was sitting right next to Donnie, looked at me and said, "Oh wow. How is your pregnancy going? Are you feeling ok? Thank you so much for coming out." Really? How gentlemanly!!!!! Considering I had just hugged Donnie it's a miracle that I remembered.
Joe came out next and well.... I hope he's taking his Prozac too. Fuck, that boy has some issues. We would get along as buddies swimmingly. I had no idea what kind of fucked up he was but holy shit, wow. He's literally as crazy as I am but arguably in a better place. No thanks to the other 4 guys that emotionally abused him as a teenager. Damn New Kids. But Joe did what he does best--- sing and say fuck. The show was raw and intense and impossible to forget. He opened up to the audience and was so comfortable with all of us. There were tears and jokes and most of all Broadway songs. He will do a one man show on Broadway one day. He's an amazing storyteller and I feel lucky to have seen it live. Not to mention his voice. That voice! I adore him and now that I know he's an emotional wreck, I love him that much more. We were all lucky that night---- it was raining pretty hard so he stayed on stage MUCH longer than we anticipated. This was one of those moments that reminds me why I do this cruise every year.
The real show was about to go down on the lido deck. Oh yeah. We did it last year and by popular demand, we did it again. The foam finger was back in action bitches. Yup. Three morons with foam fingers. If you watch any videos or see any pictures, you'll see three hands swaying in perfect sync. Laugh all you will but that finger got me on a couch with Donnie. Most importantly, this year we were recognized because of the finger. Sure, you can walk around with your "insert Wood here" panties or "I wanna fuck Donnie" t-shirt, but to really gain attention, you carry around a foam finger and make a complete fool of yourself.
Since we were all in our jammies, we waited with baited breath to see what the guys would be wearing. They showed up in satin Hugh Hefner like pj's with matching robes. *sigh* I don't know.... I got lost somewhere around Donnie being on a platform with the wind blowing his flowing purple satin pajama bottoms making the sight oh so perfect. For the record, he doesn't wear underwear.... except under a toga. I think there was music. I know there was a crowd. Maybe even the other 4 guys. Who knows? Who the fuck cares? Donnie's pajama pants were blowing in the wind. I watched nothing else for 2 hours. And then suddenly, after a break..... The horns sounded.
Two of the Greek Trojan Gods who lead this Nation, this Block Nation, emerged from the back of the boat. They returned in their togas, fully protected (fuckers) and began to announce their members: Condomus, Anus, Taintus, Orgasmus and Climaximus. I really can't do it justice. Just watch this:
Yet, another memory that reminds me why I go on this cruise every year. These guys are fucking hilarious. Not long after, these three pretty ladies decided to call it a night because tomorrow was a BIG day. Not only was it Meet and Greet Photo Op Day but hell, tomorrow night was the muthafucking back rub. A girl needs to prepare for that!!!!! We ended the night after some fancy late dining pizza around 4 am.
We awoke the next morning with butterflies in our stomachs. This was it!!! I was getting my one on one time with Donnie. The girls and I made ourselves pretty and ran down to the lounge. I think I've seen happier faces at a funeral. Wow, it was bad. Not one girl came out of the M&G looking happy at all. This wasn't going to be good. Some douchebag in a yellow rose tours T-Shirt was screaming rules: WALK IN! STAND NEXT TO ANY GUY! SMILE ON THE COUNT OF 1-2-3! LEAVE! DO NOT WORRY ABOUT STANDING NEXT TO YOUR FAVORITE NEW KID! JUST GET IN AND GET OUT! But was this guy alright? Um, do you know these girls will kill you? A: don't talk to human beings like that (even if some of these girls deserve it) and B: don't think you're cool because you know the guys. GET OVER YOURSELF, DUDE. I understand that they wanted the process to move quickly and efficiently. I get it. The line may have been long but we moved fast. Luckily, our group of 10 was one of the last of Group A to get in to see the guys. By this time, everyone had calmed the fuck down.
I will admit, my moment was fast but I beelined it to Donnie and got my little arms around him. By cruise three we have perfected our group of 10 with awesome girls. It's very well balanced that each New Kid had 2 fans. My Donnie counterpart was very sweet and which made it easy for the two of us to each get a hug/kiss. I was more nervous than usual because I had something I needed to say to Donnie. It was more intimidating than usual because he wasn't hiding behind sunglasses (no doubt after numerous survey complaints) so when I talked to him, he was looking me in the eye. Phew! that was a moment. I made my counterpart cry and I welled up too. It was my moment. No, I don't have any pictures this year and I don't have any autographs but I had that moment. That 60 second moment which ended in a huge hug and kiss. Yup. I was good. Being called "baby" by the ever so suave Joey Mac doesn't hurt either.....
Ok, so now what? Eat, bingo, nap. That summed up the day. We needed to recover from yesterday's sun-tragedy before gearing up for 90's Night. Much needed to be done in a short time to transform ourselves into: THE SPICE GIRLS
TO BE CONTINUED
Out of the corner of Sporty's eye, she notices a girl standing in line wearing one of the god awful free NKOTB Cruise 2012 backpacks that look good on, um, NO ONE and says, very matter of factly, "on anyone else that backpack would look like a suitcase." Baby and I lost all control. Laughter erupted, tears were shed, urine leaked... It wasn't even what she said but how she said it that made us fall over. From that moment on, Sporty became constant comic relief for the remainder of the cruise. Some of the more famous one liners:
Sporty: Shut up, I have heat stroke (this was how mostly every sentence ended)
Sporty: Fuck off _____
Sporty: I'm going to knock a bitch out.
Sporty: I can't fucking take these God Damn people. Jesus Christ
Sporty (to random people): Is there a problem? Do you have a problem?
Me: I am only allowed 20 minutes of exercise a day.
Sporty: ____, if I hear you say that one more time, I'll strangle you.
Obviously these are all inside jokes and only Baby and Sporty are laughing but I had to share. I'm sure there are more but these were heard just about every hour or so. Sporty's fabulous rating is a 10 which is why she is allowed to bunk with us but on top of that, she's our Earl, World of Useless and Jared all rolled into one.
Finally the line begins to move and we entered into Danny's one man show followed by Joe's one man show. Danny is amazing--- he's made for a genre that isn't pop. His voice is incredible and when he sings acoustically, he sounds amazing. He's sweet, funny and nice. A real person. Side story to attest to Danny's incredibleness: Sporty and I stood in line for hours for a CD signing in Boston for The Block. It would be her first time ever meeting them and my first encounter with them since I was 18. When I saw Donnie and all his glory, all I could say was, "Donnie, I'm 14 weeks pregnant and got up at 4 am to get here to see you. I love you so much." Yup. I'm an idiot. Danny, who was sitting right next to Donnie, looked at me and said, "Oh wow. How is your pregnancy going? Are you feeling ok? Thank you so much for coming out." Really? How gentlemanly!!!!! Considering I had just hugged Donnie it's a miracle that I remembered.
Joe came out next and well.... I hope he's taking his Prozac too. Fuck, that boy has some issues. We would get along as buddies swimmingly. I had no idea what kind of fucked up he was but holy shit, wow. He's literally as crazy as I am but arguably in a better place. No thanks to the other 4 guys that emotionally abused him as a teenager. Damn New Kids. But Joe did what he does best--- sing and say fuck. The show was raw and intense and impossible to forget. He opened up to the audience and was so comfortable with all of us. There were tears and jokes and most of all Broadway songs. He will do a one man show on Broadway one day. He's an amazing storyteller and I feel lucky to have seen it live. Not to mention his voice. That voice! I adore him and now that I know he's an emotional wreck, I love him that much more. We were all lucky that night---- it was raining pretty hard so he stayed on stage MUCH longer than we anticipated. This was one of those moments that reminds me why I do this cruise every year.
The real show was about to go down on the lido deck. Oh yeah. We did it last year and by popular demand, we did it again. The foam finger was back in action bitches. Yup. Three morons with foam fingers. If you watch any videos or see any pictures, you'll see three hands swaying in perfect sync. Laugh all you will but that finger got me on a couch with Donnie. Most importantly, this year we were recognized because of the finger. Sure, you can walk around with your "insert Wood here" panties or "I wanna fuck Donnie" t-shirt, but to really gain attention, you carry around a foam finger and make a complete fool of yourself.
Since we were all in our jammies, we waited with baited breath to see what the guys would be wearing. They showed up in satin Hugh Hefner like pj's with matching robes. *sigh* I don't know.... I got lost somewhere around Donnie being on a platform with the wind blowing his flowing purple satin pajama bottoms making the sight oh so perfect. For the record, he doesn't wear underwear.... except under a toga. I think there was music. I know there was a crowd. Maybe even the other 4 guys. Who knows? Who the fuck cares? Donnie's pajama pants were blowing in the wind. I watched nothing else for 2 hours. And then suddenly, after a break..... The horns sounded.
Two of the Greek Trojan Gods who lead this Nation, this Block Nation, emerged from the back of the boat. They returned in their togas, fully protected (fuckers) and began to announce their members: Condomus, Anus, Taintus, Orgasmus and Climaximus. I really can't do it justice. Just watch this:
We awoke the next morning with butterflies in our stomachs. This was it!!! I was getting my one on one time with Donnie. The girls and I made ourselves pretty and ran down to the lounge. I think I've seen happier faces at a funeral. Wow, it was bad. Not one girl came out of the M&G looking happy at all. This wasn't going to be good. Some douchebag in a yellow rose tours T-Shirt was screaming rules: WALK IN! STAND NEXT TO ANY GUY! SMILE ON THE COUNT OF 1-2-3! LEAVE! DO NOT WORRY ABOUT STANDING NEXT TO YOUR FAVORITE NEW KID! JUST GET IN AND GET OUT! But was this guy alright? Um, do you know these girls will kill you? A: don't talk to human beings like that (even if some of these girls deserve it) and B: don't think you're cool because you know the guys. GET OVER YOURSELF, DUDE. I understand that they wanted the process to move quickly and efficiently. I get it. The line may have been long but we moved fast. Luckily, our group of 10 was one of the last of Group A to get in to see the guys. By this time, everyone had calmed the fuck down.
I will admit, my moment was fast but I beelined it to Donnie and got my little arms around him. By cruise three we have perfected our group of 10 with awesome girls. It's very well balanced that each New Kid had 2 fans. My Donnie counterpart was very sweet and which made it easy for the two of us to each get a hug/kiss. I was more nervous than usual because I had something I needed to say to Donnie. It was more intimidating than usual because he wasn't hiding behind sunglasses (no doubt after numerous survey complaints) so when I talked to him, he was looking me in the eye. Phew! that was a moment. I made my counterpart cry and I welled up too. It was my moment. No, I don't have any pictures this year and I don't have any autographs but I had that moment. That 60 second moment which ended in a huge hug and kiss. Yup. I was good. Being called "baby" by the ever so suave Joey Mac doesn't hurt either.....
Ok, so now what? Eat, bingo, nap. That summed up the day. We needed to recover from yesterday's sun-tragedy before gearing up for 90's Night. Much needed to be done in a short time to transform ourselves into: THE SPICE GIRLS
TO BE CONTINUED
Monday, July 9, 2012
Heat Stroke
Being early cruisers did have one minor setback - our room wouldn't be ready for HOURS. Yes, that's right, HOURS. So, what's a girl to do? ....eat? Hmmm. Ok. This is dicey. Two important factors come into play: eating is not what I do and I wasn't ready to face the rest of the cruisers. I was just enjoying alone time with Sporty and Baby. But, given that we were living on the sun, the only way I could keep cool was to be in the buffet so off we went. After 20 minutes on the main buffet floor, I had already had my fill of screaming crazy girls with offensive costumes/t-shirts/hats which were designed especially for this occasion. I shouted out my ONLY good idea over the 5 days and said, "Um, let's go upstairs." Sporty, who also is not a fan of people, was quick to second. We booked it upstairs and began to lounge and revel in the semi-quiet area. I guess some other girls soon followed but given that I don't remember them, they must have been quiet and acted normal, which is a good thing.
Baby and I ate lunch while Sporty took in as much time on her iPhone as she could before Internet service was lost. As usual, this princess wasn't happy. Oh no, not me. No, I had to be an asshole. I had to complain about how cold I was. Yup. Couldn't just sit comfortably at the table and be happy I was on the boat. Instead, I had to pitch a fit about the A/C vent I was sitting under. In order to shut my yappy mouth, we all moved to another table. You may ask, why is she going on about this? Well, here's why no sooner do we move but an entourage of big big big men and Earl, a wall in and of himself, make their way upstairs while hiding three important men: Danny, Jordan and Donnie. And where do they sit? Right next to the table we were fucking sit at until I opened my big, fat, mouth. To add insult to injury, my back was turned to them so I had to live most of the moments through commentary from Baby.
When I saw Donnie, I tried to be stealth and whipped out my iPhone ready for a photo op, but given the "OH MY GOD" I screamed was actually out loud and NOT just in my head, Earl gave me the "girl, you need to put that phone shit away NOW" look. Damn. In my defense, I didn't realize Donnie was about to sit and eat. I thought he was just passing through..... I would never bother him when he's eating. Especially now that I've seen them eat. If I did bother them, I may have been eaten alive. Damn, these guys can eat. Fortunately, in addition to my NKOTB important people radar skill, I can also listen in on people's private conversations and pick up on them very well. I wish I could say that I'm a better person and I didn't listen, but I did. I heard their conversations. I couldn't tell you now what they were talking about specifically but weirdly enough, this felt normal. Normal that my pretend boyfriend was sitting only inches from me. After a few minutes, the excitement butterflies died down a little and I just enjoyed being in the same air with them. There is very little doubt that the guys didn't recognize our faces. It was a "shared moment" and the details remain fresh in my memory. Soon, the remaining New Kids followed. The girls and I refer to this time as "New Kid Jail." Once you were there, it was pretty much understood that you couldn't leave for fear the word might spread on their current location. No Facebook. No Twitter. Nothing.
After what seemed like a very long meal, the guys left. No doubt to nap because, shit, that's what I would do after a meal like that. Once released, we checked out our room only to find that most of the bags arrived (earlier than expected) and our room was ready. At this point, the only thing left to do was decorate our door. This year's creative theme: Fifty Shades of NKOTB. We liked it. Our door was posted with witty cartoons ("I still fantasize about marrying Donnie Wahlberg") and pictures of us and various New Kids. Sadly, we didn't win the contest but that wasn't the only trick up our sleeves... oh no. There's more.
Ok- so I know that the drill for drowning is mandatory but Sporty and I disagree. She and I saw Titanic-- the goal is to get on the life boat. Got it. We all hid on our extended balcony and missed the drill. We "couldn't hear it" so we couldn't go. As sad as that may seem, it all worked out in the end because since we missed the drill, we got prime standing for the sail away party. Phew! All of the anticipation from August truly builds up to this moment-- the first time we see the guys. Sure, we all had lunch but there is a difference. Seeing them in the hot sun shining glory and DJ Cheapshot at Ye Olde DJ Booth, is a whole different experience. After some partying and rum cocktails ("Officially the Best Day Ever"), they emerged and although the official cruise song is "Live It Up!" for the rest of the Spice Girls and myself, it's the Party Rock Anthem. It was magical-- we laughed and danced and screamed (ok, that was just me because dammit I can't help myself--- especially when the shirt comes off). This momentous occasion was topped off by Baby getting a picture with her favorite New Kid, Jon. For fuck's sake-- thank God. This has not just been three years in the making but DECADES. I may have nudged ....or shoved her, but she got it. Not only did she get the picture but on her first try-- it came out awesome. Clearly, I think it should be made into a poster or mounted on canvas, but she's more low key about it than I am.
First night's theme was Red Carpet Affair where we were dressed in our finest cruise red carpet attire complete with sparkly foam crowns. We take this shit seriously. Off we were to NKOTB Hollywood Squares. Out seats were Row A and although there were three rows before us, we still count it as the first row because A is the first letter in OUR alphabet.... Just not NKOTB's. We were excited. ...that is until Timmy. Yes, Timmy. Timmy showed up to our row double fisted and DRUNK. Not fun, playful drunk but obnoxious--woohoo--squealing drunk. This made me very UNHAPPY. As luck would have it, the girl who was seated next to Sporty, didn't show up for any of the shows so I happily stole her seat. So here is my shout out and thank you to the missing New Kid fan for giving her seat to me.
My favorite part of the cruise is always these game shows. It allows the guys to show their personality (or lackthereof). The game show was hosted by a shirtless Donnie Wahlberg. Hmmm.... I think that sums it up. Yeah. Oh, and drunk Jon made his appearance (along with Drunk Donnie-- who made more appearances than usual). The second show is always filled with swearing (does Joe know another word besides fuck?) and dirty-ness. I love it. We made it to the lido deck but made only a brief appearance. The day's festivities wore out these spices and as much as I love watching drunk Jon and shirtless Donnie, we called it an early night somewhere around 2:30 am. We were back in our cabin to watch NKTV on a continuous loop for the next 4.5 days.
We woke up only to find we were anchored away in the Bahamas and ready to be sent to the island of Half Moon Cay to get "Shipfaced." Yes, friends-- it was concert time! ...maybe. So, I have never been a fan of getting off the boat-- for any reason, and this year I realized that even a half naked Donnie isn't even worth getting off a boat. My first cruise, I didn't get off the boat and never regretted it. Since then, well, I've gone astray from that philosophy and it NEVER TURNS OUT GOOD. So we may have been able to get on the island earlier than in the past but what this actually meant was we could sit in the ocean EVEN LONGER to wait for our boys arrival. Now, because we were apparently on the equator somewhere, the heat was oppressive. Sure, floating around in the crystal clear ocean may sound awesome on any given day, through in 150 degrees of heat and it sucks. Really sucks. Baby had applied SPF 100 and Sporty, well, she went through a whole pre-tan ritual complete with the essential oil of the platypus, to get her brown sugar tan. Me- I just applied what ever shit I could every 15 seconds because I didn't want to burn. I did though. And so did Baby, as usual. But then the impossible happened. Sporty burned. Yes, it's true-- she burned. I know what you guys are saying, "that's completely impossible!!!!" but no, it happened. Shocking. In the eons I've known her, she has NEVER burned. I actually thought it was physically impossible but hey, if Snooki is able to procreate then Sporty is able to burn. What a world!
How was the concert you asked? I couldn't tell you. Listen, I love watching the guys sing--- it's my happy place but after twenty minutes, I could hear Donnie changing the lyrics to Tonight by singing "la la la la la la heat stroke. la la la la la la sun burn" and the concert was over. Guys, seriously, ENOUGH WITH THE ISLAND CONCERT. It sucks for them. Sucks for us. Girls pass out and die (sort of). STOP THE INSANITY. We abandoned the hot molten lava for a cooler, happier place--- also known as the mid ship bar--- for pina coladas. We ran into a friend of ours who left the island early and cooled off with these fun fruit smoothies. I'm sure we (Sporty and I) napped afterwards because the sun sucked the life out of us. Thank God that night was Up Close and Cuddly and we could party in our pajamas-- that is if we could lift our arms and change. I think this was the night Sporty went delirious..... One liners were born because we learned EVERYTHING is funnier in the heat.
TO BE CONTINUED
Baby and I ate lunch while Sporty took in as much time on her iPhone as she could before Internet service was lost. As usual, this princess wasn't happy. Oh no, not me. No, I had to be an asshole. I had to complain about how cold I was. Yup. Couldn't just sit comfortably at the table and be happy I was on the boat. Instead, I had to pitch a fit about the A/C vent I was sitting under. In order to shut my yappy mouth, we all moved to another table. You may ask, why is she going on about this? Well, here's why no sooner do we move but an entourage of big big big men and Earl, a wall in and of himself, make their way upstairs while hiding three important men: Danny, Jordan and Donnie. And where do they sit? Right next to the table we were fucking sit at until I opened my big, fat, mouth. To add insult to injury, my back was turned to them so I had to live most of the moments through commentary from Baby.
When I saw Donnie, I tried to be stealth and whipped out my iPhone ready for a photo op, but given the "OH MY GOD" I screamed was actually out loud and NOT just in my head, Earl gave me the "girl, you need to put that phone shit away NOW" look. Damn. In my defense, I didn't realize Donnie was about to sit and eat. I thought he was just passing through..... I would never bother him when he's eating. Especially now that I've seen them eat. If I did bother them, I may have been eaten alive. Damn, these guys can eat. Fortunately, in addition to my NKOTB important people radar skill, I can also listen in on people's private conversations and pick up on them very well. I wish I could say that I'm a better person and I didn't listen, but I did. I heard their conversations. I couldn't tell you now what they were talking about specifically but weirdly enough, this felt normal. Normal that my pretend boyfriend was sitting only inches from me. After a few minutes, the excitement butterflies died down a little and I just enjoyed being in the same air with them. There is very little doubt that the guys didn't recognize our faces. It was a "shared moment" and the details remain fresh in my memory. Soon, the remaining New Kids followed. The girls and I refer to this time as "New Kid Jail." Once you were there, it was pretty much understood that you couldn't leave for fear the word might spread on their current location. No Facebook. No Twitter. Nothing.
After what seemed like a very long meal, the guys left. No doubt to nap because, shit, that's what I would do after a meal like that. Once released, we checked out our room only to find that most of the bags arrived (earlier than expected) and our room was ready. At this point, the only thing left to do was decorate our door. This year's creative theme: Fifty Shades of NKOTB. We liked it. Our door was posted with witty cartoons ("I still fantasize about marrying Donnie Wahlberg") and pictures of us and various New Kids. Sadly, we didn't win the contest but that wasn't the only trick up our sleeves... oh no. There's more.
Ok- so I know that the drill for drowning is mandatory but Sporty and I disagree. She and I saw Titanic-- the goal is to get on the life boat. Got it. We all hid on our extended balcony and missed the drill. We "couldn't hear it" so we couldn't go. As sad as that may seem, it all worked out in the end because since we missed the drill, we got prime standing for the sail away party. Phew! All of the anticipation from August truly builds up to this moment-- the first time we see the guys. Sure, we all had lunch but there is a difference. Seeing them in the hot sun shining glory and DJ Cheapshot at Ye Olde DJ Booth, is a whole different experience. After some partying and rum cocktails ("Officially the Best Day Ever"), they emerged and although the official cruise song is "Live It Up!" for the rest of the Spice Girls and myself, it's the Party Rock Anthem. It was magical-- we laughed and danced and screamed (ok, that was just me because dammit I can't help myself--- especially when the shirt comes off). This momentous occasion was topped off by Baby getting a picture with her favorite New Kid, Jon. For fuck's sake-- thank God. This has not just been three years in the making but DECADES. I may have nudged ....or shoved her, but she got it. Not only did she get the picture but on her first try-- it came out awesome. Clearly, I think it should be made into a poster or mounted on canvas, but she's more low key about it than I am.
First night's theme was Red Carpet Affair where we were dressed in our finest cruise red carpet attire complete with sparkly foam crowns. We take this shit seriously. Off we were to NKOTB Hollywood Squares. Out seats were Row A and although there were three rows before us, we still count it as the first row because A is the first letter in OUR alphabet.... Just not NKOTB's. We were excited. ...that is until Timmy. Yes, Timmy. Timmy showed up to our row double fisted and DRUNK. Not fun, playful drunk but obnoxious--woohoo--squealing drunk. This made me very UNHAPPY. As luck would have it, the girl who was seated next to Sporty, didn't show up for any of the shows so I happily stole her seat. So here is my shout out and thank you to the missing New Kid fan for giving her seat to me.
My favorite part of the cruise is always these game shows. It allows the guys to show their personality (or lackthereof). The game show was hosted by a shirtless Donnie Wahlberg. Hmmm.... I think that sums it up. Yeah. Oh, and drunk Jon made his appearance (along with Drunk Donnie-- who made more appearances than usual). The second show is always filled with swearing (does Joe know another word besides fuck?) and dirty-ness. I love it. We made it to the lido deck but made only a brief appearance. The day's festivities wore out these spices and as much as I love watching drunk Jon and shirtless Donnie, we called it an early night somewhere around 2:30 am. We were back in our cabin to watch NKTV on a continuous loop for the next 4.5 days.
We woke up only to find we were anchored away in the Bahamas and ready to be sent to the island of Half Moon Cay to get "Shipfaced." Yes, friends-- it was concert time! ...maybe. So, I have never been a fan of getting off the boat-- for any reason, and this year I realized that even a half naked Donnie isn't even worth getting off a boat. My first cruise, I didn't get off the boat and never regretted it. Since then, well, I've gone astray from that philosophy and it NEVER TURNS OUT GOOD. So we may have been able to get on the island earlier than in the past but what this actually meant was we could sit in the ocean EVEN LONGER to wait for our boys arrival. Now, because we were apparently on the equator somewhere, the heat was oppressive. Sure, floating around in the crystal clear ocean may sound awesome on any given day, through in 150 degrees of heat and it sucks. Really sucks. Baby had applied SPF 100 and Sporty, well, she went through a whole pre-tan ritual complete with the essential oil of the platypus, to get her brown sugar tan. Me- I just applied what ever shit I could every 15 seconds because I didn't want to burn. I did though. And so did Baby, as usual. But then the impossible happened. Sporty burned. Yes, it's true-- she burned. I know what you guys are saying, "that's completely impossible!!!!" but no, it happened. Shocking. In the eons I've known her, she has NEVER burned. I actually thought it was physically impossible but hey, if Snooki is able to procreate then Sporty is able to burn. What a world!
How was the concert you asked? I couldn't tell you. Listen, I love watching the guys sing--- it's my happy place but after twenty minutes, I could hear Donnie changing the lyrics to Tonight by singing "la la la la la la heat stroke. la la la la la la sun burn" and the concert was over. Guys, seriously, ENOUGH WITH THE ISLAND CONCERT. It sucks for them. Sucks for us. Girls pass out and die (sort of). STOP THE INSANITY. We abandoned the hot molten lava for a cooler, happier place--- also known as the mid ship bar--- for pina coladas. We ran into a friend of ours who left the island early and cooled off with these fun fruit smoothies. I'm sure we (Sporty and I) napped afterwards because the sun sucked the life out of us. Thank God that night was Up Close and Cuddly and we could party in our pajamas-- that is if we could lift our arms and change. I think this was the night Sporty went delirious..... One liners were born because we learned EVERYTHING is funnier in the heat.
TO BE CONTINUED
Sailing... Takes Me Away....
Another blogger has inspired me to do what I swore I wouldn't do.... Write about NKOTB Cruise 2012. If the title looked intriguing enough for you to get this far, great but before you go on, let this serve as a fair warning that what you are about to read is completely about the ongoing relationship on I have with Donnie (and if you have to ask Donnie who, please stop right now) and 4 other guys.
They said it couldn't be done. They said it would never last. They said I'd get bored. Well they were wrong. It all started on a hot August day back in 2011. I formed NKOTB Cruise HQ at my house and with several computers, an iPad, a blackberry and an iPhone my fellow cruiser, Baby Spice (...I'll get into that later), and I began our journey. Getting on this boat is no joke. NO FUCKING JOKE. Being a Block Nation member (like I said, no joke), I was able to get on to buy a space for Baby Spice, Sporty Spice and myself, a whole hour earlier than the world. It was intense. I can't speak to the details because I am still putting the broken pieces of that experience together but it ended in a champagne toast. It all worked out in the end but keep in mind there was a cruiser wait list that was longer than one of my Santa Christmas lists.
Days, weeks, months passed by..... until finally June hit. Sporty and I hopped on a jet plane and set off for Miami to what has become a pre-cruise ritual. We spent an amazing day lounging by the pool in a private cabana (for free) thanks to some maneuvering by Sporty and I. How does one describe Miami heat? Well, I think Dorothy Zbornak said it best, "the heat in Miami is like August in Calcutta." Holy fuck. It was hot. I'm not going to lie-- I enjoyed swimming in the heated pool but mostly because I needed to sit on an ice cube to keep cool when I wasn't in water. Note to NKOTB: DON'T EVER CRUISE IN JUNE AGAIN. After a great evening of drinks and appetizers with local friends, I had my first New Kid sighting at the hotel. As I walked through the bar and restaurant of our hot spot, I saw Jordan. Right there. Boom! But, I kept my calm and after our earlier attempts to send one of the Jareds a drink by the pool, I was rather an annoyed BH. I moved on to our next spot... STK. Couldn't tell you much since I have no recollection of that dinner but Baby and Sporty assure me it was yummy. Yeah, well so were the hot pink Barbie cocktails we had.... or I had... or we all had... not sure. I do not recall the exact conversation we had with the cab driver on our way back to the hotel, but I do recall a great deal of laughter. Someday, I hope to piece that night together.
Once snuggled in the bed with Sporty, my teeny little head was filled with visions of New Kids dancing in togas in my head and I was preparing for the next day's adventure.
I won't bore you with the morning details but as we walked out through the hotel lobby, we saw lots of important people. Well, important people in my eyes. You could say I've honed this skill over the years but never doubt the finely tuned radar of a BH. We know a roadie, girlfriend, nanny, manager, etc when we see one. Or dog. Yeah, I swear I saw Donnie's dog in the hotel lobby. Why is this important? Because it means Donnie and I slept together--- if he and I were both sleeping in the same hotel, that's a true statement. Try to disprove that theory.
Last year I tried to jump in a van with these people but Baby and Sporty stopped me. I tried again this year too but neither girl thought it was a good idea. Or they weren't paying attention to me... I know after about 10 minutes of my nonsensical jbber-jabber, Sporty Spice tunes me out. After years of friendship, it's definitely an automatic reflex for her sanity. Excitement was building while we sat in a puddle of our sweat in the back of the cab on our way to the Port of Miami. We were ready to board the Carnival Destiny for Round 3 (...2 for Sporty). The difference this year? Well, two things. First, Sporty had an "in" and second, I had a video camera. That's right bitches, this shit was documented.... As I type, Baby Spice is fervently editing our expedition on the high seas.
We arrived on scene only to find thousands of... um.... fans. The percentage of crazy was higher this year and I attribute that to first time cruisers who lacked cruise etiquette but wow, if half of what I SAW was real, then I realistically shouldn't set foot on a boat with this guys again but I keep telling myself I was hallucinating from the heat. Thankfully, Sporty's contact got us on the boat FAST. I don't think it took 20 minutes from stepping out of the cab to stepping on the boat. It was amazing. Literally, Sporty was the FIRST cruiser on the boat. It's on video so it's true. We even missed the "I'm getting on the boat so let me take a picture with my friends in front of this cheesy backdrop" because it wasn't set up yet.
As the door opens..... the magic begins. There is only one way to describe the feeling, at least for me. When I walk on and see the signs and cardboard cut outs of the guys or hear the music playing, all I can think is, this is exactly how Charlie must have felt when Willie Wonka opened the little tiny door to enter his chocolate factory. My face had WOW all over it. And suddenly, I was 14 all over again. Just like that.
TO BE CONTINUED.........
They said it couldn't be done. They said it would never last. They said I'd get bored. Well they were wrong. It all started on a hot August day back in 2011. I formed NKOTB Cruise HQ at my house and with several computers, an iPad, a blackberry and an iPhone my fellow cruiser, Baby Spice (...I'll get into that later), and I began our journey. Getting on this boat is no joke. NO FUCKING JOKE. Being a Block Nation member (like I said, no joke), I was able to get on to buy a space for Baby Spice, Sporty Spice and myself, a whole hour earlier than the world. It was intense. I can't speak to the details because I am still putting the broken pieces of that experience together but it ended in a champagne toast. It all worked out in the end but keep in mind there was a cruiser wait list that was longer than one of my Santa Christmas lists.
Days, weeks, months passed by..... until finally June hit. Sporty and I hopped on a jet plane and set off for Miami to what has become a pre-cruise ritual. We spent an amazing day lounging by the pool in a private cabana (for free) thanks to some maneuvering by Sporty and I. How does one describe Miami heat? Well, I think Dorothy Zbornak said it best, "the heat in Miami is like August in Calcutta." Holy fuck. It was hot. I'm not going to lie-- I enjoyed swimming in the heated pool but mostly because I needed to sit on an ice cube to keep cool when I wasn't in water. Note to NKOTB: DON'T EVER CRUISE IN JUNE AGAIN. After a great evening of drinks and appetizers with local friends, I had my first New Kid sighting at the hotel. As I walked through the bar and restaurant of our hot spot, I saw Jordan. Right there. Boom! But, I kept my calm and after our earlier attempts to send one of the Jareds a drink by the pool, I was rather an annoyed BH. I moved on to our next spot... STK. Couldn't tell you much since I have no recollection of that dinner but Baby and Sporty assure me it was yummy. Yeah, well so were the hot pink Barbie cocktails we had.... or I had... or we all had... not sure. I do not recall the exact conversation we had with the cab driver on our way back to the hotel, but I do recall a great deal of laughter. Someday, I hope to piece that night together.
Once snuggled in the bed with Sporty, my teeny little head was filled with visions of New Kids dancing in togas in my head and I was preparing for the next day's adventure.
I won't bore you with the morning details but as we walked out through the hotel lobby, we saw lots of important people. Well, important people in my eyes. You could say I've honed this skill over the years but never doubt the finely tuned radar of a BH. We know a roadie, girlfriend, nanny, manager, etc when we see one. Or dog. Yeah, I swear I saw Donnie's dog in the hotel lobby. Why is this important? Because it means Donnie and I slept together--- if he and I were both sleeping in the same hotel, that's a true statement. Try to disprove that theory.
Last year I tried to jump in a van with these people but Baby and Sporty stopped me. I tried again this year too but neither girl thought it was a good idea. Or they weren't paying attention to me... I know after about 10 minutes of my nonsensical jbber-jabber, Sporty Spice tunes me out. After years of friendship, it's definitely an automatic reflex for her sanity. Excitement was building while we sat in a puddle of our sweat in the back of the cab on our way to the Port of Miami. We were ready to board the Carnival Destiny for Round 3 (...2 for Sporty). The difference this year? Well, two things. First, Sporty had an "in" and second, I had a video camera. That's right bitches, this shit was documented.... As I type, Baby Spice is fervently editing our expedition on the high seas.
We arrived on scene only to find thousands of... um.... fans. The percentage of crazy was higher this year and I attribute that to first time cruisers who lacked cruise etiquette but wow, if half of what I SAW was real, then I realistically shouldn't set foot on a boat with this guys again but I keep telling myself I was hallucinating from the heat. Thankfully, Sporty's contact got us on the boat FAST. I don't think it took 20 minutes from stepping out of the cab to stepping on the boat. It was amazing. Literally, Sporty was the FIRST cruiser on the boat. It's on video so it's true. We even missed the "I'm getting on the boat so let me take a picture with my friends in front of this cheesy backdrop" because it wasn't set up yet.
As the door opens..... the magic begins. There is only one way to describe the feeling, at least for me. When I walk on and see the signs and cardboard cut outs of the guys or hear the music playing, all I can think is, this is exactly how Charlie must have felt when Willie Wonka opened the little tiny door to enter his chocolate factory. My face had WOW all over it. And suddenly, I was 14 all over again. Just like that.
TO BE CONTINUED.........
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
100 Days
Happy Birthday to me….
I’ve been MIA for a reason--- a good reason. Although it’s been 112 days since my last blog (yes, people have been counting), it’s been 100 days since O.A.R. (Operation Anorexia Recovery). What does this mean exactly? Well, I had an AHA! moment about 100 days ago as I was about to enter an 8 week residential treatment facility for my eating disorder. It went something like this: If I eat, I won’t have to go--- AHA! Sure, I’m over simplifying it at this point but the main objective is covered. I wasn’t going--- insurance coverage issues aside--- the thought of leaving my child for 8 weeks and then explaining to my job, yet AGAIN, why I was going on leave was too much to bear and I couldn’t. I knew I had to take back my life. And I’m proud to say that for 100 days, I have…. And I’m not stopping.
O.A.R isn’t about eating six meals or three meals a day (although to get me on my feet that’s how it started). I’m now at a point where I eat. I realized I wasn’t a calorie counter or obsessed with exercise. My goal was to see how long I could go without eating. I challenged myself on a daily basis. If I could go 24 hours, could I do 36? Could I do 48? I lived on turbo Dunkin Donuts coffee and sparkling water with about 100 calories of food thrown in sporadically. I had spiraled out of control. Every day I wake up, my goal is to NOT intentionally skip a meal. That may sound easy to some people but to me, it’s not. It’s still a challenge. Clearly there have been hiccups. In the last 100 days my life has not been drama free. As a matter of fact, it hit some pretty hard fucking lows. My record of eating isn’t perfect but I still give myself an A + for trying. Sometimes ED creeps up on you without even realizing it….. and takes control like any other addiction but instead of beating myself up for the meal I missed, I give myself credit for all the meals I didn’t miss. You can’t mark yourself as a failure or you’ll never succeed.
This wasn’t a one woman show by any means. I have support. My biggest cheerleader is my husband. He knows it hasn’t been a perfect 100 days but he knows I’ve tried my hardest to get here which was all he wanted. Seeing me try and struggle to push through the hard times has given him more satisfaction than seeing me eat. In addition to him, my friends have really supported me. There are very few and I’ve lost many, but as with any life changing event, you learn who your true friends are… It’s sad that people have distanced themselves or disappeared completely. I wish I could believe the bullshit excuse of “not everyone knows what to say/how to act/etc” but I don’t. Not at this point in our lives…. We’re not 15.
As I said, this wasn’t easy and my friends were on my ass…. How do you make sure someone eats? Easy. With the power of the iPhone, you take pictures of your meal before and after and text it to the world to prove you’ve eaten. Embarrassing? Yes. But I can’t blame anyone but myself. I acted like a 5 year old and clearly I needed to be treated like a 5 year old. I was watched like a hawk. Food was ordered for me….. Placed in front of me… I was under 24 hour watch by multiple people. And to those who did that, I love you. You know who you are. Keeping with the anonymity of this blog—I won’t share names but as you read this, you know who you are. I couldn’t have done it without you. Today I celebrate you all as well. You guys were my treatment providers.
Of course there have also been inspirational words from a certain boy band-er via Twitter that kept me motivated (no, I’m not delusional. I don’t think they were solely meant for me). It amazes me that through the power of technology you can reach hundreds of thousands of people who you don’t even know and can affect their life.
How do I feel? Physically I am at a 6 but mentally I’m at a 3. I’m working really hard at it though. My clothes are tighter and it’s difficult to process but one step at a time. I’m not going to be able to go from being a double 00 to a 2 and not have issues with it. Sounds ridiculous to some but it’s very real to me. It’s no party and I know others are envious of my size but the grass is always greener on the other side. It’s not easy to process—and I don’t expect anyone to understand, but gaining weight will forever be a cross to bear and I am going to have my ups and downs. I look better but the physical toll of the eating disorder has done damage and I’m still trying to gain energy back. I know that with any recovery, it’s going to take time.
So, here I am, 100 days into O.A.R. I’ve become active in the NEDA (National Eating Disorders Association) and I plan to walk for the charity in New York City in October. I’ve raised some money and hope to raise more as I get closer to the walk date (….being Italian, if certain people in my life don’t come through, I will forgive but never forget. I’m just saying… I’m charitable and understanding to a point). Most asked question: Are you happy? Honestly, no. No one is happy giving up an addiction and trying to live their life in a new way. As part of my recovery, I hope to become happy and I know I will but right now, I miss it. Yes, 100 days is a long time but to someone living it, it’s not. I’m working towards a goal of being healthy because yes, I have an eating disorder and no, I can’t just get over it (great quote).
Why am I doing this if I’m not 100% happy, healthy and excited? Well, that answer is easy…. In the words of a wise man: BECAUSE I DESERVE IT.
I’ve been MIA for a reason--- a good reason. Although it’s been 112 days since my last blog (yes, people have been counting), it’s been 100 days since O.A.R. (Operation Anorexia Recovery). What does this mean exactly? Well, I had an AHA! moment about 100 days ago as I was about to enter an 8 week residential treatment facility for my eating disorder. It went something like this: If I eat, I won’t have to go--- AHA! Sure, I’m over simplifying it at this point but the main objective is covered. I wasn’t going--- insurance coverage issues aside--- the thought of leaving my child for 8 weeks and then explaining to my job, yet AGAIN, why I was going on leave was too much to bear and I couldn’t. I knew I had to take back my life. And I’m proud to say that for 100 days, I have…. And I’m not stopping.
O.A.R isn’t about eating six meals or three meals a day (although to get me on my feet that’s how it started). I’m now at a point where I eat. I realized I wasn’t a calorie counter or obsessed with exercise. My goal was to see how long I could go without eating. I challenged myself on a daily basis. If I could go 24 hours, could I do 36? Could I do 48? I lived on turbo Dunkin Donuts coffee and sparkling water with about 100 calories of food thrown in sporadically. I had spiraled out of control. Every day I wake up, my goal is to NOT intentionally skip a meal. That may sound easy to some people but to me, it’s not. It’s still a challenge. Clearly there have been hiccups. In the last 100 days my life has not been drama free. As a matter of fact, it hit some pretty hard fucking lows. My record of eating isn’t perfect but I still give myself an A + for trying. Sometimes ED creeps up on you without even realizing it….. and takes control like any other addiction but instead of beating myself up for the meal I missed, I give myself credit for all the meals I didn’t miss. You can’t mark yourself as a failure or you’ll never succeed.
This wasn’t a one woman show by any means. I have support. My biggest cheerleader is my husband. He knows it hasn’t been a perfect 100 days but he knows I’ve tried my hardest to get here which was all he wanted. Seeing me try and struggle to push through the hard times has given him more satisfaction than seeing me eat. In addition to him, my friends have really supported me. There are very few and I’ve lost many, but as with any life changing event, you learn who your true friends are… It’s sad that people have distanced themselves or disappeared completely. I wish I could believe the bullshit excuse of “not everyone knows what to say/how to act/etc” but I don’t. Not at this point in our lives…. We’re not 15.
As I said, this wasn’t easy and my friends were on my ass…. How do you make sure someone eats? Easy. With the power of the iPhone, you take pictures of your meal before and after and text it to the world to prove you’ve eaten. Embarrassing? Yes. But I can’t blame anyone but myself. I acted like a 5 year old and clearly I needed to be treated like a 5 year old. I was watched like a hawk. Food was ordered for me….. Placed in front of me… I was under 24 hour watch by multiple people. And to those who did that, I love you. You know who you are. Keeping with the anonymity of this blog—I won’t share names but as you read this, you know who you are. I couldn’t have done it without you. Today I celebrate you all as well. You guys were my treatment providers.
Of course there have also been inspirational words from a certain boy band-er via Twitter that kept me motivated (no, I’m not delusional. I don’t think they were solely meant for me). It amazes me that through the power of technology you can reach hundreds of thousands of people who you don’t even know and can affect their life.
How do I feel? Physically I am at a 6 but mentally I’m at a 3. I’m working really hard at it though. My clothes are tighter and it’s difficult to process but one step at a time. I’m not going to be able to go from being a double 00 to a 2 and not have issues with it. Sounds ridiculous to some but it’s very real to me. It’s no party and I know others are envious of my size but the grass is always greener on the other side. It’s not easy to process—and I don’t expect anyone to understand, but gaining weight will forever be a cross to bear and I am going to have my ups and downs. I look better but the physical toll of the eating disorder has done damage and I’m still trying to gain energy back. I know that with any recovery, it’s going to take time.
So, here I am, 100 days into O.A.R. I’ve become active in the NEDA (National Eating Disorders Association) and I plan to walk for the charity in New York City in October. I’ve raised some money and hope to raise more as I get closer to the walk date (….being Italian, if certain people in my life don’t come through, I will forgive but never forget. I’m just saying… I’m charitable and understanding to a point). Most asked question: Are you happy? Honestly, no. No one is happy giving up an addiction and trying to live their life in a new way. As part of my recovery, I hope to become happy and I know I will but right now, I miss it. Yes, 100 days is a long time but to someone living it, it’s not. I’m working towards a goal of being healthy because yes, I have an eating disorder and no, I can’t just get over it (great quote).
Why am I doing this if I’m not 100% happy, healthy and excited? Well, that answer is easy…. In the words of a wise man: BECAUSE I DESERVE IT.
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