Travel has been a long time passion of mine, long before I started working on cruise ships and really long before I started working as a luxury travel planner. For most people, cruise ship work is something you stumble into because your cousin did it or you applied to a random job posting online. For me, it was something I planned on since my first family cruise at 14. Sitting in a full theatre listening to a horribly over-engineered version of a Black Eyed Peas song, I couldn’t imagine anything better than a job that allowed me to see the world. And then I got to do it! And it was awesome! For a while.
At some point, the gleam faded. Working non-stop with no days off for four to six months at a time wore me down. Waking up somewhere different every day started to feel more exhausting than exhilarating, and I started worrying about when my real life was going to start, when I was “supposed” to settle down. Now that I’ve had some time away, and tried out my “real life,” I’m ready to get back to travel.
Now, it was never my dream to fly first class or stay in the highest end hotels (although, let’s be honest, those things are nice too…). I wanted real experiences, exploring at my own pace, choosing my own adventure no matter where I was (even when that meant spending a day in Helsinki at Pizza Hut instead of seeing the city). One thing I love most about travel is that you never have to go too far to see something new. And that’s what I want to bring to YOU! Travel doesn’t always have to be exotic, but it CAN always be authentic. Looking forward to sharing my favorite destinations and travel tips here!
Ahh, ship life. There’s nothing quite like it. Nothing quite like a phone call from the bridge in the middle of your shower confirming there is no fire in your room. Nothing quite like the epic battle between flooding the entire bathroom with 2 inches of water or having the cold, plastic curtain cling to your whole body. Nothing quite like surrendering to the shower monster after only shaving one half of one leg because the motion of the ocean just won’t cooperate (sorry, boyfriend). Some days, it just feels like I’m winning the war, but I’m losing the battle.
The Alaska doldrums have officially set in. With 6 and a half Alaskan cruises under our belts, and only 2 and a half more before our crossing to Singapore, this itinerary is starting to drag. Don’t get me wrong! I am completely in awe of, and grateful for, the incredible scenery I am privy to day in and day out, and I adore my job. Still, there are only so many more times I can drag myself out of my windowless dungeon (cabin) and bother to put on passenger friendlies to see another glacier.
This is not to say that I haven’t tried to make the most of my Alaskan adventure. I’ve been able to do some pretty amazing things while discovering the Last Frontier. I spent a day at a mushers’ camp in Juneau as they trained for the Iditarod race, and got to play with the future stars of the mushing team (aka PUPPIES!). I biked and hiked through the Tongass National Forest in Sitka, where I ate spruce needles and huckleberries, and saved some banana slugs. I’ve seen bears, whales, moose (meese?), eagles, and more water bears (otters – my new favorite) than even I can handle.
Which leads me to one of my favorite days on this contract so far…
Last cruise, we were given a huge blessing in disguise. Due to a technical/mechanical difficulty, we were forced to make a change in our normal itinerary and head to Seward (where we had never visited) to check things out instead of continuing on to Anchorage. At first, this was a real downer, especially to the crew, because Anchorage is one of the few places on our two-week itinerary that feels like real civilization – i.e. There’s a Starbucks and a mall. Of course, I had my own plans to get brunch, get a much-needed mani/pedi (seriously, my nails were in ruins), and shop around for a new formal gown. Alas, it was not to be.
I had been given mixed reviews of Seward, mostly from disgruntled fellow crewmembers, and really had no idea what was there or what to expect. What I found was a perfect day. The weather was some of the best we’ve had since May – warm and sunny, with a slight breeze, and clear skies for miles. It was by far one of the most scenic ports I’ve seen here in Alaska, the closest snow-covered peaks feeling like they were within touching distance. I walked 9 miles along the coast, spotting otters and whales in the water, and enjoying the camping lifestyle of the seasonal residents of Seward. I sat for nearly an hour (and I could have stayed for longer!) watching huge Sockeye salmon play and splash in a stream. The best part of the day was grabbing a cab and riding the short distance to Kenai Fjords National Park, where I hiked with friends to the glacier’s edge, put my hands in freezing glacier water, and laughed like I hadn’t in a long time. I love God’s little surprises. Maybe Seward gave me enough of a breath of fresh air to make it through to September. We’ll See!
Water bears, saying hi!
Playing around in the Tongass National Forest in Sitka
The past year and a half has held a lot for me, drastic ups and downs and in betweens. I was offered and embarked upon my dream job, I got engaged, I traveled to places I never imagined, from remote Brazilian fishing villages to the romantic European cities of the Canadian coast, I broke an engagement, ending a relatively unhealthy five year relationship, I met a fantastic new someone with whom I love sharing my time and my life, I legit moved to NYC where I was able to live and work and survive for 6 months, now here I am back on a ship, enjoying every moment, and still wondering what’s next.
Often, I feel God is leading me through a giant maze, where I pick up little treasures and heartaches here and there, and just try to keep stumbling along. The view from here is scary and overwhelming, sometimes dark or hazy; it feels like I may never surface, but I’m sure God’s view is a gorgeous tapestry that holds the weaving threads of my life. I know if I put my whole trust in God, he’ll lead me through the darkest parts of the labyrinth and meet me on the other side. I know his word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path. I know without Him, the maze will truly never end.
Sometimes I find myself mourning the bits I’ve lost along the way- the relationships and friendships that have ended, the unexpected bends in the road my life has taken. But then I realize that to mourn the past is preventing me from fully appreciating all God has provided for me. He has given me everything I’ve dreamed of and more, and continues to provide, despite my nagging doubts. What a blessing, that I’m happy to remind myself of daily. How GREAT is our God!
And here’s to my maze, and loving that, as a Christian, no matter what comes toward me, I DO know the ending, and it sounds like a pretty great one.
It’s rainy days like today that make me stop and think, “Gee, I hope Diana Ross is enjoying my umbrella.” It happens that a Christmas caroling company, with whom I was performing, got the last minute call to sing at the icon’s Connecticut estate on Christmas Eve morning. Before arriving, we were given instructions to not look directly into the eyes of Ms. Ross, to not touch her, to not think about her, to not direct our energy toward her very presence, which was all very strange to me. I’ve never been a starstruck person, and I like to think if I were famous, I would be humble and generous, and greet my for-hire Christmas Carolers with open arms, which is exactly what we got from Diana Ross. On a cold, gray morning, we made our way through the winding roads of suburban Connecticut to be greeted at the gate by Diana herself, in sweatpants and rain boots, signature wild hair undeterred by the humidity. She welcomed us with open arms, and we celebrated the music of Christmas with her family (including extended friends, Ashlee Simpson and Tito Jackson). Walking around the house singing a rousing rendition of Deck the Halls, we interrupted her daughter (of recent Blackish fame) eating fried chicken out of tupperware at the kitchen counter. Her eyes glistened as we sang Silent Night with her sisters, and everyone delighted when her grandchildren played the bells for Jingle Bells and Frosty the Snowman. As we prepared to leave, and reflected on the experience of performing in front of a living legend, I absentmindedly left my umbrella in her guest house. The lesson I learned that day is that sometimes, the experience is well worth the sacrifice. I have since replaced it, but every rainy day, I smile and hope Diana Ross is somewhere in the world carrying my pink polka dotted umbrella.
I love lobster. Being from western North Carolina, I didn’t try lobster until I was an adult, and BOY had I been missing out!!! Spending all last summer in New England and Eastern Canada on the Maasdam, I got really spoiled because lobster was readily available on every corner. I have never seen so much lobster. I even got to hold one!
Larry, the left-handed lobster
Lobster stew, lobster quesadillas, lobster mac n cheese, even lobster ice cream! (I was never brave enough to try that one…) But my favorite were lobster rolls. I quickly became a connoisseur. It became my mission to find the very best lobster roll, and now, I present my top five:
Stewman’s Lobster Pound in Bar Harbor, photo courtesy of stewmanslobsterpound.com/functions
Going to the walk-up window at Stewman’s was my last-ditch effort to get in as much lobster as possible on my last visit to Bar Harbor. This one was easy to like: the brown paper to-go bag was actually heavy, and this roll was plain, classic lobster. Sometimes all it takes is a little butter and a touch of mayonnaise for success!
The Chip Shack, photo courtesy of Trip Advisor (honorable mention for best french fries!)
This place was so cute and so good, even though the lobster probably wasn’t the best quality. Nevertheless, it was always slammed with happy customers. The lobster itself was more of a shredded texture, rather than whole pieces like my other favorite rolls, but was still nicely seasoned. Some may call it too mayonnaise-y, but it was cheap and served with the best fries I’ve ever tasted, and perfect while sitting outside enjoying the Charlottetown seaside.
Lazy Lobster in Bar Harbor (honorable mention for my favorite clam chowder!)
I tried this cute restaurant near the end of my summer in New England after locals had recommended it over and over. From what I gathered, the Lazy Lobster was new to the scene and was offering larger-than-normal servings for lower-than-normal prices. This may have been my favorite bun: very buttery and perfectly grilled. It lived up to the hype!
While it sounds like an odd choice, this lobster roll wins the #2 spot for being delicious while also being economical. I believe the roll was $12 before a very kind cruise ship crew discount. The Coffee Hound is a locally owned Bar Harbor establishment conveniently located on Main Street. The lobster roll itself was very flavorful, light on the mayo, and had plenty of lobster with a lovely addition of paprika on top. So yummy!
Henry House lobster roll, photo courtesy of withbite.blogspot.com
The number 1 spot goes to the Henry House in Halifax, Nova Scotia!!! This delicious roll grabs the top spot because of the refined and delicate flavors of dill and citrus, combined with very generous chunks of lobster. It was definitely the fanciest lobster roll I tried, which maybe gave it an unfair advantage over the other competitors on my list, but it was the clear-cut winner. The Henry House itself was also a really cool venue, being listed as a National Historic Site of Canada, and provided a great atmosphere for lobster sampling.
I do have some honorable mentions to add to my list. While I never tried the lobster roll at Side Street Cafe in Bar Harbor, it was a mainstay for most of the cast members every time we docked in Maine. I still dream about the lobster quesadilla. It was also home to an incredible and buttery lobster stew and delicious hand-crafted margaritas (strawberry rhubarb? what?).
Since my Canada/New England cruises, I have also had the pleasure of trying a few non-cruise port lobster rolls. Top picks go to the Upper West Side’s Mermaid Inn, and Matt O’Reilly’s in Pittsfield, MA.
There are people in your life that you become friends with because they’re awesome, and you love them, and you have, OMG, SO MUCH IN COMMON! Then, there are siblings: people with whom you are forced to live in close quarters for an untold number of years and have no choice but to have something in common, given the incredibly similar way you were raised. Also, you may look alike, and, personally, I think it would be incredibly awkward to go through life hating someone who looks so similar to yourself. Lucky for me, I kind of hit the sibling jackpot.
We don’t look alike… right??
He’s fun, he’s funny, and he doesn’t make [too much] fun of me for taking really horrible, and not artistic (at all), photographs all over Brooklyn. We weren’t always the best of friends, but, nowadays, I can’t think of many people I’d rather spend my day with than my little bro, which leads me to my post. We spent one epically incredible day in New York.
Since I’ll be starting rehearsals and joining my next ship in a few weeks, I decided to leave NYC a month earlier than planned, and eternally responsibility-less Stefan agreed to drive up and help me move all my bags, and my banjo, home to NC. We had one day to sight-see between packing and needing to move out, and we certainly made the most of it. We started the day with a sensible bowl of Cheerios, then hopped on the A train alllllll the way to Brooklyn. Our day entailed about 8 miles of walking all around Dumbo, across the Brooklyn Bridge, the entire length of the High Line and Chelsea Market, the East Village, and a brief stint in the theatre district. My dear (and crazy) friend Marisa met up with us for part of the day and entertained with her Wisconsin antics. We shared a delicious lobster roll, and various other seafood delicacies at one of my favorite NYC restaurants, the Mermaid Inn. We celebrated an “internationally ignored East German transgender rocker” on Broadway, and finished our day with amazing views from the top of Rockefeller Center, 70 floors above Manhattan. AND it was the nicest day New York has seen the entire time I lived there.
View from Top of the Rock
But maybe the best part was the roadtrip home. Between singing Queen songs and “Wagon Wheel” at the top of our lungs, vogue-ing, and stunning the small rest stop community of Dauphin, PA, with our ridiculous road trip outfits, I can’t think of a better time I’ve ever had spending 10 hours in a Honda Civic. Neither of us fell asleep once, which was quite a feat. So I’ll say this: If you don’t have a sibling, I’m sorry. But if you do, I hope you cherish this relationship as much as I do.
The day begins… sunrise and cheerios.
Subway Rasta.
We explored Brooklyn…
And visited the Brooklyn Bridge Park,
Where we (I) experimented with photo editing,
And took many artistic Brooklyn photos.
Then we crossed the bridge,
Took pictures of locks,
And finally stopped to rest.
We met up with Marisa at the High Line…
Where we took shadow selfies and had a grand time!
We loved the sunshine in the city!
Our trip wouldn’t be complete without a trip to Rockefeller Center…
Where we enjoyed spectacular views!
And ended our epic day in NYC.
Then we stopped at a rest stop and wore ridiculous outfits…
I have to take a minute out of my last day temping to say how blessed I am, and to give recognition to how GREAT and faithful our God really is. For a long time, I had been praying for God to increase my faith, increase my trust in Him. It was something I longed for, but maybe [definitely] I was not as committed to what I was asking for as I thought I was, or as God needed me to be (does that make sense? it makes sense to me…). I had no prospects for a job, I was lonely and hated the city, and I wasn’t sure how I was going to continue to make ends meet. Basically, I was stumbling, because I was relying on myself to pull me through all the muck. A friend once told me that sometimes when we pray for something, she believes God challenges and tests us with the very thing we’re asking for. With all my money worries, thank goodness for a conversation with my boyfriend about tithing.
Tithing is a sensitive subject, because, Hello! Pretty much every subject that deals with money is sensitive these days, but it’s something I do believe in. It’s something I had done on and off over the years, mostly when I had a job and a home church, and not so often when I was traveling. My parents and grandparents always tithed, and I remember them always pulling out the checkbook while the offering plate was being passed (it was always super embarrassing to me that my mom waited to the last minute to write the check, and we ended up stuck with the offering plate and holding up the rest of the congregation. I mean, c’mon mom, you knew the whole service you had to write the check, am I right??). Unfortunately, I had fallen off the wagon, so to speak, and had not tithed in nearly a year. Did I expect God to answer all my prayers faithfully when I was not being faithful to him?? I guess so… It was really on my heart in mid-January, and (even while very conscious of the dwindling number on my bank statement), I decided to give my all to God and re-focus my prayers. I tithed $200, which was roughly 10%, on what I had made atChristmastime caroling in the city. I say “roughly” because I didn’t exactly keep up with how much I made, and I think I had spent it all on rent by mid-January. Anyway! The point is, I felt really insecure about my finances, so my last resort (which should have been my first), was to trust God fully by giving it to Him. It never ceases to blow my mind that no matter how slow we are to turn to God, He is ALWAYS waiting for us.
The Big Reveal!!
Two weeks and one dayafter tithing, Igot a call offering a second cruise ship contract. One week after that, I got offered a great temp job (albeit at a silly NY office) that paid well enough to solve all my financial problems in the interim. About a month after I tithed, I found out I was getting a pretty substantial (for me) tax refund.
When I was little, one my favorite bible verses was always Psalm 56:3 — “When I am afraid, I will put my trust in You.” How little I understood those words when I would chant them during a thunderstorm as a child! I truly believe God has blessed me beyond measure, and will continue to do so as I continue to follow His will and give Him my first fruits. To God be the glory, great things He hath done!
This is silly. I know it’s silly. In my head, logically, I know it’s trivial and shouldn’t matter, but…
I have a pet peeve. It’s something that affects my daily life, and something I can’t ignore. There is a RIGHT way and a WRONG way to hang toilet paper! When hanging the RIGHT way, the toilet paper drapes over the roll, is perfectly visible, and requires only one hand to tear neatly. When toilet paper hangs down underneath the roll (i.e. BACKWARDS), you can’t see it, and if you try to tear it with one hand, you end up with a pile of toilet paper piling on the ground. And no one likes that. This bugs me so much that I cannot leave a public restroom without flipping the toilet roll. I’ve even done it in people’s homes (how embarrassing…). I like to think that when, eventually, my handiwork is noticed, the original Toilet Paper Hanger learns a valuable lesson and never does it the wrong way again. A girl can dream, right?
My only consolation in this weird quest is to know I’m not alone. Not by far! And most people are much more passionate about it than I am. According to KnowYourMeme.com, the debate over which way the paper should hang dates back to 1989 in a book called The First Really Important Survey of American Habits, which claims 68% of Americans hang it the right way. I seriously doubt this statistic, as I feel I’m flipping rolls all day every day… but it’s nearly 16 years old, so maybe Americans are slacking. This guy even created a public service door knob hanger to help educate the general public. Pure genius. Now, enjoy some pictures from my office bathroom.
Jellybean – one word or two? This conundrum struck me as I was conjuring a witty facebook comment about the perils of dating older men. Upon googling, it was discovered that jellybean is, in fact, one word. It was also discovered that I do not belong at a desk job.
My brain found it hilarious that Dictionary.com was able to end my puzzling, and further served to crack me up in this silent office when I saw the pronunciation: [jel-ee-been]. I was a mess. Seeing it spelled out like this was somehow uproarious to me, and it kept the word tumbling in my head, rolling around on my tongue. Jellybean, jellybean, jellybean! It got to the point where, of course, it no longer sounded like a word. Also, I couldn’t remember the word for belly button. I’m not sure how my brain circumnavigated that one…
At any rate, this weird giggling fit episode made me incredibly glad and grateful that, soon, I am leaving this [not-so-terribly-awful] cold, miserable city and heading out on a new adventure.
To wrap it up, I’ll leave you with this fantastic slang definition for jellybean:
jellybean
noun
A gaudily dressed man; faddish dresser (1919+)
A stupid person; fool; sap: The jelly beans I went to school with(1915+)
Lexa Does Life 