Hi Everyone,
Here is the next issue of Jaime’s Dear John Letters. Be on the lookout for a video post from John later this afternoon.
Well here I am at the hotel which is conveniently located next to the office. I have a meeting tomorrow at noon and will spend the morning blogging to all of you.
The worst thing about jet lag is that right now its 11 pm back home and my body is telling me to bugger off to bed. Actually, that’s not the worst thing……..the worst thing is the underwear I have been wearing for the last 10 hours which have taken on a life of their own. They just checked themselves in, ordered room service and are apparently going to South Beach tonight
Saying goodbye today was very difficult. Heidi and I have not been apart for some time and the fact that she is carrying our thingy made it even more difficult. She was very brave but I knew as soon as I closed the front door their would be tears. And not just hers.
Anyway, here I sit in the Flagship Lounge for my business class flight to Miami. I use the word business class because it seems that as the credit crunch continues all the men and women here are determined that they can save the world from financial ruin.
They look very serious as they open their laptop computers. This maybe though that like me they have spent the last 20 minutes trying to log on to the web thingy and remember what their password is …….. probably it’s password.
It has been well documented in past blogs that I have a hatred of flying, climbing walls, the French and …………….dancing. And is the thought of the later that has finally made me decide not to attend my high school reunion in December………………also the fact that I don’t want to spend the next 20 years in prison for the murder of the David Pattern, Shane Ibrahim and Terry Green the three complete bastards who made my life and those of all my friends school days ones we wish to forget.
I seem to be spending time reminiscing about my life and I hope that’s OK with you until next week when the excitement starts in the States.
Anyway, back to dancing. For me, and many others, the hatred of dance comes directly from the school disco. These days it seems all teenagers want to bump and grind with each other as they dance to soulful ballads by J Z, Beeonsay and Justin Trousersnake. In my day dancing only involved skidding across the dance floor on two knees hoping that when you came to a stop it would be right under Sally Poole’s skirt. That, I didn’t mind but when at the school disco Spandau Ballet’s “True” was played by DJ Donald who was also the art teacher ………..I ran to the buffet to shove another bag of chips down my throat all washed down with the fruit punch which had 3000 tons of sugar in it and is probably the reason I am diabetic today.
It’s Saturday and I am enjoying a real weekend for the first time in 6 months. Heidi is pottering about and I am sitting here in the kitchen having just welcomed home my underwear which returned from a vacation in Rome………….and they didn’t even get me a gift.
The British Airways courier arrived with my suitcase about an hour ago and after signing a form I was reunited with my friends. Apart from that I have done very little today. I have watched Heidi continue to eat the strangest of combinations over the last few days but none stranger than her breakfast of thick porridge with strawberries.
So, what to talk about………………………well………………………I can tell you that as I sit here watching my pregnant wife organizing the dishwasher I have realized that yep………..I am about to become a Dad.
I don’t know where she got the idea, but last week Heidi, suddenly produced a fully decorated swear box and announced that there were new rules for us all to follow. It was going to be $1 or £1 per swear word, and at the end of the year the money would go to the children’s hospital, Great Orman Street. It was all very entrepreneurial and there was no way I could refuse without setting a pretty bad example.
I decided to lay down some rules of my own: I would accept her terms, but I also said she would have to put in £1 or $1 every time she said, “I’m bored, whatever.” Ground rules agreed, we were off.
The first morning, which was the usual nightmare of trying to get ready for the Morning Show, finding the dedication letters and my shoes and…………..of course, I woke Heidi up as I was getting ready.
So, I woke Heidi up with my morning noise and Heidi snapped: “Sh%£, could you make anymore noise. John, are you eight years old, you lazy bastard.” I pounced and charged her £1.50. I was particularly vigilant and marched her off to the box to check she put the money in.
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Sometimes I am aware that here on my blog thingy, I always seem to find something wrong with everything. To find discord where there is harmony. To sprinkle a little bit of yak poo over your morning coffee and bagel.
Unfortunately, it’s hard to find fault with something you love. And, strangely, one of the things I’ve loved most over the years is flying with British Airways. I love the way that when you’ve finished working a long contract onboard a Carnival ship sailing all over the world, you’re welcomed on board by a slightly feminine man in grey trousers and you think: “Aaaah. We haven’t even taken off but I’m home already.”
Hi Everyone,
Just wanted to let you know that this will be the last “John’s Replies” until Oct. 20th as John will be traveling. John will also not be able to respond via email until then. Comments will continue as normal, however if you need immediate assistance just mark them with “attention Stephanie”.
Thanks!
Stephanie
And now back to the regularly scheduled John’s Replies…. (more…)
I love the Russians and I love their devil-may-care attitude and the last few days have been so busy that I haven’t had time to mention some of their exploits here. We only have 30 something comrades sailing but they have probably provided the vessel with 30% of the onboard revenue.
The Robusto Cigar Bar this cruise has been adopted by Sergei and his mates, and we have been quick to adapt to their tastes.
What’s very strange is that three chaps have brought their own bottled water ……….. whether they bought it from one of the ports of call or from a sevenov-elenenov in Moscow I have no idea, but there they were yesterday………sitting on the table…………… phallic-shaped bottles of Voss mineral water.
I would rather blow torch my nipples off then work in a bank ….but it looks like they may have got their act together…..so yippee for that and now, hopefully, we can start leading normal lives again and start worrying about SARS, Bird Flu, North Korea, Iran, whether to cruise on the Carnival Spirit to Alaska or the newly renovated Carnival Fantasy…..oh yes……and hemorrhoids………one should always worry about those nasty little buggers.
However, it is good news with the markets closing way up and my Carnival shares looking as healthy as Cameron Diaz in a string bikini holding a sign saying “Wanted: Cuddly cruise director for fun, friendship and occasional rumpy pumpy.”
