“Secrets Unveiled: What Really Happened at the Captain’s Dinner That Changed Everything”
Added on December 3, 2024 inASTROLOGY CARDS
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What happens when you’re all dressed up for an event, ready to mingle with the captain of a cruise ship, but you’re running on empty? You know, like that moment when you realize you’ve wandered into the wrong bar looking for a drink, only to find it’s a gathering of sea captains and their eager crew? Yeah, welcome to my life! In this witty dive into my cruise experience, I share the absurd reality of nursing a baby while trying to look fabulous—all while feeling more like a zombie than a glamorous voyaging queen. You won’t believe the hilarity that ensues when a night out at sea turns into a personal saga of fatigue, unexpected encounters, and the looming presence of the ship’s captain. Spoiler alert: I might just stand him up! Want to hear more about my misadventures? Buckle up and grab a life jacket, because you’re in for a wild ride. LEARN MORE.
Catch up here: Gemini Hell Aftermath
I spent the next day relaxing around the pool in anticipation of the Captain’s dinner. I remained supremely tired and worse, I’d had a rough night. Mosta waking up most likely, but I don’t recall specifically. It’s all a blur.
I saw several of the officers popping out by the pool throughout the day. They would step out from wherever; various doors and scan around until their eye found me. I’m not stupid. They were clearly circling.
I did not see the Captain and I was a little amused. I thought of a bride not seeing the groom on the wedding day.
Hah.
Whatever. I would have an easier time in this movie if someone would give me a script.
I’m learning that among other things, extreme fatigue brings freedom. Freedom from worry, freedom from obsession… well, it brings freedom from almost everything when you get right down to it. Every curse is a gift in equal measure. I’m sure that this is true.
I’m thinking it’s going to be an interesting evening and I feel regretful I don’t have more energy. Clearly there are plenty of fun games that could be played here. Drama potential is very high. Under normal circumstances I would make it, sky high, but I am just too damned tired. I feel like an instrument of the universe, er, I mean a prop.
Back to my sister’s model – if this is all a grand ballet, then I am a living prop. Prop, as in less than human because I really don’t feel capable of taking action for an effect. I am partly impotent, partly apathetic. I am so compromised on a physical level that the only path I can muster is the one of least resistance.
Meantime my daughter, a Gemini with Jupiter in Sagittarius trine to a 9th house Leo Moon… she’s a natural traveler. She was crawling around the deck meeting and greeting and pulling up on people’s lounge chairs. I have her chart. I know what she’s about but man oh man I really saw her action. She’s not a clingy child. She was thriving. Soaring. She was exuberant.
I was glad we were there, I liked what was being revealed to me. This is the type thing I was thinking about. It was very pleasant. I really like this mother gig. I like what I am doing. I like what I’ve done.
The point of the trip was to be released from mundane tasks so I could daydream. I was trying to ascertain exactly where my daughter and I were at in the scheme of life. I wanted to get a hack on it and then project out… you know. Think big thoughts. My body is tired, but this does not stop my mind from trolling. Sometimes I like to look at things close, but other times I want to look at them as far as I can see.
I spent some time with the couple I’d met. We shared info. “Better to eat breakfast out here than in the dining room”. That sort of thing.
As it turned out, the husband was carrying a key I would need later in the week. The Pisces. Both he and his wife were extraordinary people. I thought they were a little magic. It was easy to hang with them and I felt quite lucky about this. I talked to them, while Mosta talked to everybody, while all three of us kept an eagle eye on her.
Later in the day, two of the officers cross the deck and speak to me. The same pair that walked me home. The Aquarius and the Double Cancer.
“Ciao Elsa.”
They make superficial conversation and verify I will be at dinner and I think “what the hell is this?” Front men for the Captain? If so, they’re highly polite so it is hard to file a complaint, but on the other hand I’ll admit it. This is beginning to piss me off.
Who is this guy? Golden boy? Prom King? Maybe he is is the blushing bride. Gross.
I don’t like it, but then again I don’t really get it either. Do you?
I think these two are goons of the Captain except they don’t act like goons. They interact with me in a polite and enormously respectful way and it baffles me. I can generally discern a person’s intent if I try, but I was completely confounded with these two.
The chat is brief. They will see me at dinner. Yeah, I’ve heard.
This is when I tell the Pisces about these guys. Well I tell them both. I tell his wife also, but it is the husband who offers all the clarity. He is the talker. His wife, the Scorpio, asks the questions. She’s the investigator. This is how they live and it works like a poem. They are pretty much a dream team. I enjoy watching them interact.
“They like you” he says.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you sure that is what it is?”
“Yes.”
This is when he tells me, he and his wife have seen them repeatedly coming out on the deck ABOVE the pool and checking on me all day long. Same two men.
WHAT?
Bloody hell.
“Are you sure?”
Pisces laughs. “Yes. We’re sure. They’ve had an eye on you all day.”
I look at his wife and she nods to confirm.
I’m not happy to hear this. I’d seen them, but not on the upper deck. It makes this whole thing too large to ignore or obscure from my reality. Now I am going to have to do something. You know… Like pay better attention, which I was decidedly not interested in doing. I’m here to escape, remember? It’s just as well I find this out though. It’s time to dress for dinner and maybe I’ll get some answers.
The couple and I agree to look for each other at dinner, otherwise we will hook up next day. They make it clear to me that they want to know how this plays and I promise to fill them in.
I had something to wear. Nod to the gal at 1-800-getmeoutofhere who gave me the heads up that I would need to dress for dinner. Hey. I didn’t know. I’m from the desert. Another nod to my clotheshorse sister who travels well. She gave me her ghost dress. She always seems to know what I need before I need it.
Some months prior – “This is the perfect dress for you. Wad it up and go. It’s a great dress. Take it, you’re gonna need it.”
It’s a scramble to get ready and I start to get stressed. Baby is crying. You know… It just doesn’t go smoothly. I’m sitting on the edge of the bed nursing and I’m really glad I have a dress, wadded and ready to go, that’s for sure. Soon as I can get it on I mean. I’m having a time crunch problem.
I don’t want to miss an opportunity to go to the Captain’s dinner with the Captain. Do you know why? Because I think it will make a good story and I collect them. It is like a junk collector driving by a pile of junk, no stoppy, no poke-y. That ain’t gonna happen.
I’m tired. I want to know why it seems to be so important to these other men that I show up at dinner. I really don’t get it.
I am reeeeeallly tired.
I don’t think that I like the Captain, but I could be wrong. I should find out and not only that, I’ve made a commitment.
I am so tired I can’t remember what else.
Oh yeah. I want to have the experience. I knew it was something.
I do a gut check and yes I definitely, most definitely, I want to have the experience, so I plead with the universe to provide me a second wind. Someone or something, please hold me up because I feel like I am going to tip over. I am literally dizzy and it is chaos to prepare, but I pull it off. Barely.
My daughter is dressed, fed, and content. I check in the mirror and I look good. My hair is down. I know the “go on a date with a Leo” rules. Leave it down, they don’t like it up. Knowing stuff like this helps if you want to play to an audience and tonight, I do. I’m good to go. Good as I get under the circumstances, I mean.
I head to the ballroom, with my daughter in her stroller. You know why? I don’t have even a modicum of the energy it would take to carry her the length of the ship, but to hell with it. I am one game chick and I am on my way!
I spot the ballroom where I’m going and see people streaming in. I see a group of people going into the room and I hope, I hope, I hope, that they hold the door until I get there. I try to yell out but no voice comes and I see the door swing shut.
I feel like crying. I have to swallow and blink to stop a tear. Oh brother. I didn’t know I was this fragile.
It’s a big door. It’s an oversized door, ten feet tall. It’s a heavy door. I swear it hurts to pull it back. My arms and my back are sore from carrying, Mosta for months. New parents know this feeling. I have to hold the door with my hip and maneuver the stroller. The door is so heavy it almost knocks me down.
I hate pricks who close doors without looking behind them, don’t you? Have you ever been this tired? My face is hot, but I’m going anyway. I know for sure that life is magic and miracles happen. I was invited here for a reason and by God, I am going to show up for my life.
I wrangle us into this room. I look down, I look around and I swoon.
It is huge. Well no. It is HUGE. It’s circular and tiered and we are standing at the top of it.
Everything is purple and yellow or was that gold or maroon? It was LOUD. All of it. The colors, the music and the sequins on the women’s dresses. Everything was garish.
The room looks like a badly decorated upside-down cake. I think there were swirling disco type lights but it may have been my psyche.
Now what the hell am I supposed to do? Stroll my baby down these stairs? There appears to be 1000 of them. Am I supposed to hike around and look for this bastard, I mean the Captain?
I check myself and get a grip. I should not being calling my date a bastard and I know this. I make a concerted effort to calm down. Maybe someone will rescue me. I take a deep breath and scan the place for a white uniform, but guess what? I can’t see that far, especially in the low light. I am not wearing my glasses, remember? I only wear them to drive and this is supposed to be vacation. Matter of fact, I left them in the car in the shuttle parking lot at home. I feel the tears start to come again.
I feel small, hot, tense and weak. I’m overwhelmed.
I can’t do it.
I just can’t.
I’m thinking, we don’t belong here. The whole scene is completely egregious to me. It’s a million miles from where I want to be. Tomorrow is a beach day. There is a deserted deck, with an ocean, and this is where I want to be, with all my heart.
Someone pulls the door open behind me on his or her way in.
“Can you hold that please?”
They hold the door and I move through it like wind. I walk down the corridor pushing the stroller and I do not look back.
I can feel my heart pounding.
I have just stood up the Captain.
To be continued.
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