10:57pm Cat
i think fb chat just spazzed. did you just say something?
10:57pm Grace
のｔてゃｔ用間れあｄ
10:58pm Cat
google translate is not amused by what you're writing
10:59pm Grace
THATS BECAUSE ITS GIBBERISH< I HAVE TO TYPE IN ALL CAPS APPARENTLY
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Back in 'Nam...
Vietnam was our first port in which the United States has been the intervening foreign power. Freshly so. It was kind of awkward-making for us. The Vietnamese didn’t seem to mind so much, if at all. In fact, during our first night in Ho Chi Minh City we found ourselves in a dance bar called Apocalypse Now. Keep on moving on.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
The city that never sleeps, probably because it chainsmokes and outlawed beer
Abnormal by any standards, I seemed to achieve freak status in Chennai. This was due, but by no means limited, to three main factors, in no particular order: (1) I am whiter than God's own bed sheets, (2) I am supposedly a lady, and (3) I got no hurs on mah head. This earned me a significant chunk of space on countless camera phones, which were more numerous than the mopeds and rickshaws that clog the streets. Judging by the shear number of stares, I was more popular than Gandhi. Call me Ben Kingsley.
Another object of curiosity was my birthmark, which for those of you who may have forgotten in recent years, like I have, is superhuge and smack dab in the middle of my neck. The children in Ghana loved it, actually. It deeply troubled my self-proclaimed personal rickshaw driver. Explaining to him that it was natural and caused no pain didn't quite translate, and so I found myself in the markets looking for this magical mystical Indian curing herb which he swore would rid me of my affliction in two months with daily use. It's the thought that counts. Acquired, he made a paste of it and smeared it on my neck. I caught a whiff, and by golly do you know what it was? Turmeric! And here I've been squandering it on my food all these years. He gifted me with the entire jar, so if anybody out there in TV land has any birthmarks they would like dyed a vicious shade of pukey-pea yellow, perhaps in preparation for a hot date, I have just the thing - direct from the streets of India.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Tall Tales from Erin and Ryan
The following email brightened not only my day but that of many of my shipmates, who are forced to listen to me brag about my twin savant cousins on a fairly regular basis. Oh, you too Todd.
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Grace,
I wanted to share with you the tall tales that Erin and Ryan wrote in school. Included is Erin's infamous 'Grace Night' story. It has been confirmed with the author that the character is based on a close relative.
Love,
Todd
p.s. As always, your blog is entertaining, enlightening and provides welcome stress relief at the end of a day. I'm working with a former Navy officer that is well versed in the various maritime ceremonies such as crossing the equator. I was able to impress with my small amount of knowledge gained through your blog. In short, your blog enables me socially...
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Erin James
Tall Tale
5th Grade (2009)
Secret Agent Grace Night
This is a story of one of the greatest secret agents ever to live. Her name is Grace Night. Grace is stronger than one hundred rhinoceroses and smarter than Einstein. She had a lot of great adventures, but this is her best one.
Secret Agent Grace Night got dressed and rode her solid gold jet to her new middle school. Then she walked off the jet and into the fifty foot tall front doors. She’d never even been to this school before. The only reason Grace was there is because she was on a mission. To succeed, Grace had to find her arch nemesis Doctor Destruction.
When Grace got to her locker, which was the size of a pea, she figured out that a girl named Sarah had a locker right next to her’s. Grace and Sarah introduced themselves and figured out they had all of their classes together. The next day in school, they found out they had two five hundred page quizzes the next day. So, that night Grace went to Sarah’s house to study. When she went to find the bathroom, she got lost and found out something she would’ve never expected to see. At a desk was Doctor Destruction laughing with his half-horse side kick Chiron.
Mysteriously, the next morning, Grace woke up in her bed. When she went downstairs for breakfast, her mother said she had gotten a note. She over looked it. It was, “Meet me at the junkyard at 10:00 a.m.” So she got ready and ran to the junkyard as fast as a cheetah! When Grace got there, she spotted Doctor Destruction on the far side of the junkyard that is right next to a cliff that overlooks the whole state. They started to brawl right away. It lasted almost a decade, until Doctor Destruction made a false move. His foot got caught in a hole and he fell off the cliff.
These days Sarah is living with her mother and Grace is solving more mysteries than ever before. That is the amazing story of Grace Night, teenage secret agent.
-----------------------------------------
Ryan James
Tall Tale
5th Grade (2009)
Harry Lingo and the Giant Robot
Many years ago, before computers or TV’s, there lived a man named Harry Lingo. He was a professional wrestler two hundred years ago. His greatest victory awas when he took on the giant robot in Arizona.
One morning, he walked into the ring to fight Rampage. The bell sounded. After five rounds, he finally pinned Rampage down. Harry knew the only reason he triumphed was because he had superhuman strength. He had it because his dad was a scientist and one of his experiments went bad. That’s when he decided to get into the wrestling business.
After the fight, an elderly man walked up to Harry. He had a big, bushy mustache. “Are you harry Lingo,” he asked.
“Yes. I am,” replied Harry.
“I’m Joe Bombo,” said the man. “I wanted to know if you’re up for a challenge,” asked Joe.
“Sure,” replied Harry.
Joe walked up to the microphone. “I challenge harry Lingo to a wrestling match,” he said.
“I accept,” yelled Harry.
Harry was determined to win when he stepped into the ring. To his astonishment, Joe didn’t step into the ring. He walked up to a big box and opened it. Out stepped a colossal, mechanical robot. “This is Robo,” said Joe. Harry figured he would fight him anyway. The bell sounded. Robo moved with marvelous speed. He got behind Harry and jumped on his back. Harry was so enraged that he threw Robo through the roof. Robo hit a plane and exploded. A piece of him fell down to earth so hard it made the Grand Canyon.
“Well done son,” said Joe. Harry then realized that Joe was short for Joseph and Bombo was his dad’s middle name.
“Dad,” said Harry. He was close to tears.
“Yes, I am”, said Joe.
Harry Lingo will always live on in the legends. This story will be told for generations to come.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
This was my morning
After the Halloween dance I buckled down with my books and papers to prepare all night for early morning exams and presentations (this is a campus, after all, albeit floating through the straights of Malacca at a rather alarming rate to avoid pirate ships), after which sleep was finally had. I woke up in Singapore, strictly for bunkering purposes, had a few glasses of red wine and sang in a guitar and drum circle on the seventh deck, and after which reverted back to Indian silk pajamas for a cozy cabin viewing of the Darjeeling Limited which is just now over as we leave Singapore fueled for Vietnam Tuesday midmorning, finally gaining hours in the middle of the night instead of losing them.
Good morning good morning good morning.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
FW: THE MV EXPLORER IS NOT IN DISTRESS, EXCEPTING CASES OF SEVERE LACK OF ALCOHOLS
Please excuse the shameful delay in reporting back any and all Interesting Things since South Africa (when was that). First let me take care of the shipboard housekeeping.
This will hopefully be the most amusing geography lesson y'all have heard in a while. The night before our arrival in Mauritius (more on that later) a good friend pointed at my feet and informed me that "home is that way." This of course prompted a wave of jokes back home that we were stepping on your toes or had a lovely view up your shorts. Our arrival in Chennai, India also marked the only day on which our dawn was California's dusk, though either way you happen to see it we were watching the same giant ball of burning gas mosey up or down from opposite sides of a rather large rotating rock. Departure from India marked our getting closer and closer to home instead of farther and farther away. Somewhere in this whole business we've managed to lose twelve total hours of sleep and gain half a day, generally at the rate of one hour clock advances every other day at sea. Much to our dismay the crossing of the International Date line was scheduled away from Thanksgiving, probably due to an unwillingness to serve two feasts in a row would probably wipe out the national Japanese turkey supply (there's an Economics of Globalization paper topic for you).
In other news, Happy Halloween to all you pumpkin mutilators back home! We're having our own festivities on board after classes and dinner (Saturdays have long ceased to be anything meaningful), and I promise to provide prompt updates on that if y'all promise to do the same for me. Try not to get too crazy without this cat, but if you must, please provide photographic or otherwise documented evidence.
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