11.3 - (ship) No more
Sitno >>4<<
After the initial feeling of having the rug pulled out
from underneath me, slowly the realization crept up on me:
I AM GOING HOME
I AM GOING TO KISS G AGAIN (A L O T)
I AM GOING TO BE HAVING SEX SEVERAL TIMES A DAY AGAIN
I AM GOING TO GO TO MY LIBRARY AGAIN
I WILL NEVER HEAR THE WORDS: Ewh, no, you don't want to
take my picture, I'll crack yer camera!.... (Fuck ME)
I AM GOING TO SEE MY FAMILY
I AM GOING TO WALK MY DOG AND ALL ITS FLEAS
I AM GOING TO SEE MY FRIENDS
I AM GOING TO USE MY OWN INTERNET, and a fast one it is
AND BE ABLE TO PROOF-READ MY POSTS
I AM GOING TO EAT CHEESECAKES THAT DON'T COST 8euro/apiece
I WILL BE ABLE TO USE PHOTOSHOP AGAIN
I WILL BE ABLE TO GO MUSHROOM HUNTING WITH PARENTS
I AM GOING TO GO TO MOVIES
WITH MY MAJA
AND EAT BUCKETTS OF POPCORN
I AM GOING TO BE ABLE TO WATCH YOUTUBE VLOGS
I AM GOING TO BE ABLE TO P O S T YOUTUBE
VLOGS
I AM GOING TO BE ABLE TO DOWNLOAD MOVIES
AND NEW MUSIC
AND UPDATE VEGETABLES V. ZOMBIES
I WILL BE ABLE TO PLAY WARCRAFT
AND THERE IS AN EXPANSION COMING
I WILL BE ABLE TO FINISH 'GOOSE'
AND START 'DREAD'
I WILL BE ABLE TO PAINT, DRAW, SKETCH AND COLOUR
I AM GOING TO INTERVIEW PEOPLE AGAIN
I AM GOING TO DO MY KITCHEN
I AM GOING TO HANG ON G UNTIL HE COMPLETES HIS PHD
I AM GOING TO W A L K AGAIN FOR D A Y
S
I AM GOING TO PLOT ANOTHER JOURNEY
I AM GOING TO SLEEP IN MY OWN BED (OR NOT SLEEP)
I AM GOING TO BE ABLE TO OPEN MY WINDOW AT NIGHT AND
LISTEN TO MY STREET
NEVER HEARING WORDS ’MAYBE WE BROKE THE CAMERA..' EVER
AGAIN
I AM GOING TO BE ABLE TO WALK BAREFOOT ON GRASS
AND SMOKE A PIPE UNDER OLD TREES
AND PAINT MY TOENAILS
I AM GOING TO BE TAKING MY OWN PHOTOS
Because money is going to become a problem again real
fast, I can no longer spend it on anything cute and need to figure out how to
pay my ship tab, but those old problems aside, the first thing I did and that
will not change again in a hurry, is put the 50mm back on Mark and started
photographing my crewmates...
Sitno >>3<<
Negotiations for my return continue. So far they have
offered me either some travel money to make my own arrangements or to pay for
my return flight home on the eve of the ship docking on Saturday morning. The
bus to get there, which would supposedly also be covered, is not that costly
and would take me to the airport around noon. Faster if they didn't direct me
to the wrong airport. Since a shippie shoppie offered to keep a box(s) of all
my non-essentials until they come to Koper, I have no luggage problems and
since there is shit happening all over Europe (someone killed a bunch of peeps
and a priest in Rouen - where we are en-route to right NOW), trains feel no
less appealing. Then again, the very same say I would fly home, Putin is also
visiting our only airport. That should be fun, safety wise... I hate flying as
it is, only things I hate more is the luggage checks and body scans, but the
thought of being at home in three days freaks me out - in the best possible
sense. The adrenaline, all too familiar to all my crewmates, is beginning to
kick in. Hermes hasn't failed me yet, I don't think he is going to abandon me
now, are you, little brother?
Last formal tonight... No more wearing cocktail dresses
after this one, thank the fucking Gods. I am putting both of them into the 'to
be picked up at a later time' box(s).
You can tell the M2.0 is a Romani: we used all of the
most hysterical backgrounds and photo templates in gold :D
Sitno >>2<<
Last gangway. Last gangway EVER.
You know, it occurs to me I NEVER once photographed the
captain's cocktail party? I always wanted to try it how it was done on the
burnt-down sister ship, but we never had enough working lights to set up a
proper studio.
It was a nice gangway - I only took about a dozen or two
photos. Of people whom I knew will come to get them. The weather was nice,
dramatic, too. I started to laugh at some point, at myself, because I was
imagining what it will be like when I sit in our car in two days' time, and
tell the General to pull over the first chance he gets, so I can climb into his
lap and kiss him a thousand times. I will whisper something sexy to him, but
because in my little brain a 100 days is one month, it will be something like:
I haven't kissed anyone like this in a month!...
...
O.o
...
Ye, that will probably be the last of me. He's already
told me to go pick an urn I like on the INSIDE as it is. That thought made me
LOL. The gangway guard looked at me. I told him this story. He said: You should
be careful what you say after you go home form ship. Also, my room number is
1339. Knock three times, the door will open automatically...
:D
Ah, the Filipino men.
Mental note to get all my paperwork in order. Just in
case I ever try any of this shit again. Maybe not on a cruiser and may be not
as a phottie. But maybe some time again. Although I have a deep urge to get a
T-shirt for the General, saying: Next time fucking stop me, asshole.
Sitno >>1<<
29.7.2016, morning, Paper is en route across rainy
Normandy to see Monet's Gardens in Giberny. Tomorrow, with a little luck, Paper
will be en route across England to see Slovenija in the eve. The skies are
clearing up, though, even against my rule that the last port-of-call should
always be melancholy. It is not. It's excellent. Not at all a bad second choice
for a last free excursion. (Right after Omaha beach, which was canceled due to
nobody else being interested in 80 km in rainy coastline of past strategies.)
Gods I have an urge to hitchhike. But not with a bag full
of camera gear. If I only had my hat to piss in, though... And the world was
not this crazy.. I love the fact I need no symbols, no effigies, no special
prayers or lucky charms to pray to Hermes/St.Nicholas/Mercury. He knows my
name. All I gotsta do is zip up my bag and start moving my feet one in front of
the other.
Sitno >>0<<
Other than forgetting all my Britvic cans, I packed half
the ship. But someone forgot an intact bottle of water on my table at the airport
cafe, so I'll take my chances:) Couldn't possibly be worse than the Jamie
Oliver walnut-coffee cake (definitely not how my gran used to make...), or his
ham&cheese breakfast croissant or his raspberry cheesecake or Jamie
Oliver's Italian coffee... Good grief what nasty food. Ye, airport, but still
nasty.
Course now we are back to my main transit issue: I really
have to pee. And really having to pee with seventy kilos of luggage which you
can't leave anywhere for not even a minute, is interesting.
No way of getting the gratis airport wi-fi, but am
reading Ava Gardnes biography, so that's cool, too.
Tried to stretch and yawn after coffee and half the
airport’s security jumped on me, thinking I am praying, about to detonate...
0.o
DOo asked me to make him an extra mail account while he's
away, so am amusing myself by thinking up his handles... SailingPilot?
ShipInTheNight? SkySeaAndSaku?...
Let's see.
Getting the last pay check, complications 1-7? 0.5
Taxi to train station, complications 1-7? O
Train to airport, including airport shuttle train,
complications 1-7? O
Airport, complications 1-7? 1
Flight, complications 1-7? 0, until we landed. Fuck Putin.
Ride home, complications 1-7? Naa, it was cool.
At least if anything blows up, you guys will never know
:p
Otherwise, Sitno 0.
Prognosis for midnight: touchdown. Crowd goes wild.
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