Solo Cruise Retrospective

It is super humorous to me how I begin each of my posts (as of late) like I’m a fucking Carrie Bradshaw. Like some mega corporation is paying me to write about my adventures, pretending it’s not just me putting out my own fucking “brand.” (God that’s ridiculous: brand.) Each of these posts I start off as professional as I can, as if my editors want pizazz and intrigue to hook my readers. Like I have any…

I get about two paragraphs in and I feel so inauthentic. I don’t like how I sound or how I will be perceived. Then I delete whatever bullshit I typed out and drop this bizarre facade I don and then write how I truly feel; how it exists in my head.

Maybe this is just my technique? I need to broom out the cobwebs before I can get to my real “shine.”

Despite my prior post “waking up panicked,” the cruise was fantastic. I made some very fast friends (who I lovingly referred to as my Homo Homies) the first night on the ship at the LGBTQ meet-up/mixer. They accompanied me on my misadventures and I on theirs. I did lose my shit in one of the ports because I had reached my limit in regards to noise and being bothered. What I learned is I am not a “Vacation Port Town” person. I wish I could be like my cruise companion Christian. He gave zero fucks. His casual existence was so refreshing. He just went with the flow. As much as I tried, I have a point of being “over” whatever we may have been in the midst of doing.

I told my brother when I got home that I was at least proud of myself for knowing this and removing myself before my new pals got to see the ugly side of me; the spoiled only child that WILL throw a fit when he’s had enough. I like to think that is growth. Unfortunately for those who have been permanently adopted into my inner circle, I do not offer that luxury. They get me at my ugliest. Sorry, gals.

I would absolutely do another solo cruise. It was fun being by myself. I didn’t have to worry about anyone else. Just me. My own fun. Not like I don’t already do that. I seem to surround myself with those who cater to my every whim. It’s weird. Without them I didn’t have the worry/anxiety that I get that they’re just agreeing with me because they don’t want to upset me or give me what I want. Y’know, to avoid seeing the side only they get the “pleasure” of witnessing?

My only real regret was not recognizing my “friendly personality.” I genuinely thought I wasn’t going to make any friends, so I signed up for my favorite writing competition. As a result… I ended up stressed about competing and completing my assignment. I shouldn’t have, but I can never say no to the chance of flexing my skills. I love writing. (Clearly… ) What I don’t love is that this wasn’t my best. It was done for the sake of “getting it done.” Which means that it didn’t get the attention it deserved. If I place in the Top 15 it’ll be a fucking miracle.

One of the port towns I want to go back to is Puerto Vallarta. I’d love to spend a week there in the “gayborhood.” However… with the way shit is going I might not be able to. God… I hate this fucking place.

Early morning cup of panic

More than anything I want to tell you all about the cruise. It has genuinely been a wonderful experience. I was so worried about traveling by myself because the last time I was “on my own” I was a scared, insecure little boy. Never once has it occurred to me that in that time the people I have loved and lived with have changed me. I am not even close to that Josh anymore. This would not have occurred to me had I not taken this trip.

That said, I woke up this morning stressing and panicking so hard about the future and what that will look like. Moreso, what my finances will be.

As of right now I am steady in terms of getting by. My parents seemingly sacrificed themselves to make sure I could make it through the next few years after their passing. It was most certainly not intentional but it may as well have been the way everything fell into place.

However nothing is forever. Especially when my line of work has been hit so fucking hard post Covid. And the probability it will be fixed any time soon with the current ass hat in charge is slimmer than a sheet of paper.

Waking up panicking about finances, while actively spending money, is fucking hilarious. Especially since the experience taught me something I should have already been blatantly obvious. I guess this is my version of “student debt.” It served me just as well as a college education has for most of my generation.

More-so, I am very concerned about what I’m going to do once the inheritance runs out. Which means I’m going to have to find another job. That is so daunting since I have spent the last 20 years of my life in this line of work. Do I go back to retail? Do I go into food service? I’ve watched my brother try and find a job the past month, applying for everything but “health care,” and he hasn’t even received a single call. I have heard similar stories from friends on the internet. What the fuck am I going to do? My entire industry is fucked. I can’t even make a lateral move to something else.

Anyway… the fact that I am overwhelmed with all of this as I am on a cruise is quite ironic.

It’s wild. I’m thoroughly inebriated. And with a gaggle of gays that I met on this cruise. And all I can think is that this is charlie alive and well. This is me feeling his energy following the party.

I miss him more than anything.

But he is apart of me. He is dictating my choices.

Table for One

For the first time in my life, this Saturday, I will embark on a trip completely solo. Sure, I have done day trips somewhere by myself. I even went to Disneyland one time alone for my birthday. I ate an entire Monte Cristo, and this was when it was a portion size that was genuinely meant to be shared. (Ah, how I was a fat-fat.) What I have not done is journey for an extended period of time away from home without being accompanied by someone. There is always a presence there to help guide me and keep me grounded. Which is why I am mildly terrified.

I am certain I will be fine. Many of my friends have and do travel on their own. They’re the type of person with “gumption.” They’re assertive. They’re also imposing figures who most wouldn’t think twice about messing with. Myself on the other-hand, is a petite fragile little thing that scurries away at the slightest explosion of sound. And one of my genuine fears is being somewhere where I do not speak the local language. So, why I (as someone who understands Spanish but cannot speak it) thought going on a Mexican Riviera cruise was a good idea is beyond me.

I settled for this instead of doing a cross country road trip. That had been my initial intention after my husband had passed. It was a way to roll the windows down, let the fresh air in, and clear out all those negative thoughts. What kept me from going, besides my fear, was the fact that Covid “inflation” decided to drastically drain my inheritance. Therefore a cruise on a contained ship would be a better use of funds. Plus, I had a credit from a previously planned trip that had to be cancelled. Since I wasn’t getting that cash back, might as well use it to solve my grieving wanderlust.

I have no idea what I’m going to do. I’m not particularly a social person when I’m alone. I use my friends and companions as crutches to aid in my extroverted introvert tendencies. Nor am I one to just strike up conversation with a stranger at a bar. Usually I end up halfway through thinking to myself, “They don’t give a shit about what we’re talking about.” Then I get all weird and shut down and end up ruining any kind of connection I may or may not have had because I got too inside my head.

I had mentioned before that I wanted to bring along this younger gentleman to aid me, but it would have made things weird all around. We’d almost certainly end up having sex, which is fine in my current relationship, but while I can detach myself from emotional entanglements this 22 year old boy would not. That for me seems entirely too cruel. Plus… his addition would detract from the whole point of this trip.

I am meant to travel alone. To experience an existence that isn’t hinged on the wants, whims, and wishes of another person. Which, isn’t a complaint, by the way. It’s an entirely foreign concept to me. Even when I primarily end up doing whatever I want anyway.