This morning, we had the first “character” breakfast on board – that’s where all the Disney characters show up and sign autographs and pose for pictures. While most of the waitstaff was busy bringing us our food, some of them were there solely to fold the napkins into entertaining shapes and put them on people’s heads. Most of the women received enormous bows. Some of the men got Robin Hood caps, but some of them got what looked like a bandana holding up earrings made from dish covers. Or teacups. Or milk jugs. I told the Pirate that not only was I going to take a picture of him in his lovely gear plate-cover earrings (they made him look like a Jamaican robot Princess Leia), but that he had to make it his new LinkedIn profile picture. He’s been married long enough that he just smiled and nodded.

Most of the men ended up with some variation on this theme

While I was in the bathroom this morning, I realized something. While I washing my face and brushing my teeth, I realized that every so often I would feel like the mirror was a little further away than it just had been. Then, a second or two later, I would feel like I was going to fall forward into the mirror. It was very subtle, but it was the first time I could really feel the motion of the ship. As we walked down to breakfast, I realized that I still felt a little dizzy. Just a little, and mostly whenever I looked out a porthole at the passing ocean. It feels pleasantly disorienting and encourages me to breathe deeply.

After breakfast, we hit the bingo game where I ordered a drink called an “eco-tini.” It had acai berry, agave nectar, ginger, leaves, bugs…you get the picture. It came with a little bracelet of acai berry seeds. I put it on, and what it really looks like is my alcohol friendship bracelet. I hope that gin doesn’t get jealous. I’m sure this will just be a shipboard romance for me.

I want to go on and on about the experience of being on a boat, but it’s like any large-ish touristy building. Most of the space is taken up either by rooms or by boring things like utility cupboards and big bits of weirdly shaped metal with seventy million coats of paint on them. Once you’ve been through every single thing in the two shops, poked your head into all four of the bars and been to all of the restaurants, there’s not a lot to see. I did spend some of every day we were at sea in the gym, and I can tell you that it’s really hard to get a good head of steam on the treadmill when the ship is really pitching. So, the only other thing left is to spend a lot of time out by the pool, sunning yourself and fending off the advances of the seventy-four waiters hawking beverages. To be honest, I wasn’t always very successful at fending them off. To be even more honest, sometimes I didn’t even try.