When I arrived at the ship for my first contract, the sight of the Dream as I came over the top of the causeway was something I will never forget. The same feeling of awe and appreciation washed over me again this time as I saw the familiar red smokestacks crest over the horizon. Just like a relative who hasn’t seen you for a year, I said to the girl next to me, “I swear, she’s gotten bigger.” I’ve only been away two months, but I feel like Mickey pulled a Sorcerer’s Apprentice and added an extra twenty feet to the aft of the Dream. She’s huge! Of course, the fact she was docked next to one of those measly Carnival ships helped her look a lot bigger two.
Sidebar. Just like majoring in theatre has made me a theatre snob, working for a cruise line has made me a ship snob. Disney’s ship are styled so elegantly in an effort to bring back the glory days of sailing that they become titans of beauty. When pulled in next to a rusting, dirty, gaudy thing from Norwegian or Carnival, we make them look bad. I feel bad for people sailing on them.
Anyhow, coming back the Dream was a lot easier than I expected it to be. When I came on as a New Hire, it was so overwhelming that I was just dog tired my entire first week. This time, I know exactly where I’m going, what I’m doing, and who everyone is. It’s very nice. Another nice surprise? Somehow, I managed to get a single room. It’s temporary, as the bright orange sticker on my ID declares for all to see, but still - for one glorious week it is mine. A single room is absolutely unheard of for anyone ranking below three stripes. Luck of the draw? You betcha. I shall enjoy this time alone and use it to memorize scripts in peace. I’ve already put in a request to move in with Abbey (my former roommate before Elise, last contract) on Sunday. She lives in one of the rooms on Deck 3A affectionately called “The Narnia Rooms”. These rooms are in the forward most corners of the ship and concealed underneath the desks are little crawl spaces which lead into cavernous chambers formed by the narrowing sides of the bow. You can use it for storage, or you can fit roughly twenty people in there. Your choice... FOR NARNIA!
My Ent Host duties won’t officially start until my trainer, Nicole, leaves on May 13. Then I will take over her line in the Lab. Until then, I’m shadowing her and learning everything I need to know so I can do it on my own. So far, we’ve been on Scientist duty. I’ve seen three of the four Super Sloppy Science programs and I am so looking forward to being friends with Professor Make-a-Mess. It will be legen - wait for it - dary!
Speaking of legendary things, some of you know about my epic encounters with wardrobe and Chinese Laundry last contract. Well, they haven’t forgotten me. And once again, we’re not off to a good start. I went down to collect my uniforms on day one and almost got into a shouting match with the girl because she tried to give me the wrong sizes, again. Last contract she tried to give me Lex’s clothes, since we both cam to YA on the same day. Lex is about 5’6” and roughly 130lbs. Lex is also a boy. This contract she tried to give me Ally’s clothes. See, there were two Allyson’s coming back the day I did. Both of us are Youth Entertainment Hosts. We are differentiated as Ally(her) and Allyson(me). Some things to know: Ally is 5’3”, a size 6, and works in the Club. I’m 5’10”, a size 16, and work in the Lab. So there I am, holding several small shirts and pants that are only 28” long. My inseam is either a 32” or a 34”, incase you were wondering. The lady refused to believe I wasn’t Ally. She kept telling me, “the other one” picked up her clothes already and these were mine. I kept telling her she had written the same sizes down for both of us and she needed to give me proper clothes. She didn’t agree, and we did that little back and forth for about ten minutes. I finally told her that if she didn’t give me properly sized clothes I would just go to work in my Disney Look stuff and when I got yelled at, I would give my manager her name and country and let them sort it out. She begrudgingly gave me pants and a polo. I stupidly didn’t check the size and went back to my room.
I put on the shirt first, and then pulled on the pants. They were still only 28” long. The woman essentially gave me capris. So I went back to costuming, in my capris, stood by the side door and called her name. She came around the corner and rolled her eyes at me. So I went back to the Seamstress’s door and pleaded my case. The guy back there was much friendlier and gave me longer pants. I’m pretty sure he got them from my friend up front though, because they had been ironed in such a way that the flap over the zipper gaped open so it looked like my fly was unzipped all night. Good times. I have since gotten proper, non-gaping pants. But I feel my battle with Costuming is not over... not by a long shot. Why they believe me to be short is beyond my comprehension. I have this same argument every time I go down there. You think they would, I don’t know, change my file? Nope. Too simple. Let’s just duke it out every time over pant length. Blarg.
I don’t know what’s gotten into the Mess, but the past two nights we’ve had decent food for dinner. My first night on board they served a grilled fish (shocker), but it actually tasted nice! Tonight we had grilled chicken breast, and I’m pretty sure it was actually chicken. If these gestures of good food are just a harbinger for dark days ahead, I will survive on the fruit bars and baked lays in my room. I did it all last contract, I can do it again. But, if this is a permanent change, I may actually enjoy going to the Mess this time around! Fingers crossed!! (Keep in mind this was just for dinner. I had the customary salami sandwich and banana for lunch... again. They haven’t completely changed their ways.)
We had our first Crew Drill today, and my mother will be happy to know I am no longer stranded up on Deck 10 where certain deaths awaits should the boat actually sink. As an Ent Host, I don’t have a drill duty! Win! All I have to do is go stand next to my life raft and wait to get in. I’m still not important enough for a lifeboat, but I’m not above resorting to my old plan of grabbing a child and ensuring their safety... next to them in their lifeboat. :)
I’m being taught the “Hoedown Throwdown” at some point over the next few days. I’ve already learned the dance for “Baby”. Anyone wanting to learn the dances may sign up for tutorial lessons to take place in October when I return. We shall pump it up, become Beliebers, and put our hawks in the sky. You can also learn the “Hawaiian Rollercoaster Dance” and “The Platypus Walk” if you like. Special customers will be taught the proper way to Mousercize. Yes, Mousercize. Finally, you will become certified in all the ways of “The Cupid Shuffle”. We are experts, here on the Dream. EXPERTS.
More stories are soon to come! And since it’s summer, anyone who finds themselves in the Port Canaveral area on a Sunday or a Thursday that would like to come visit me, let me know! I can get permission for you to come on board as a guest and look around! If you can’t make it down to Florida, let me just remind you how much I love mail. It is one of my favorite things ever to see on board. Just saying. Do what you want with it... Letters are amazing. As are touches of home. And care packages. Love those care packages. ;)
Much love to all!
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