For years, John has been begging me to try going on a cruise. Given that I get sick in the bathtub, I didn't think it was such a hot idea. He's rallied troops in his quest. Most recently our dear friends Dave and Lucy. They've "cruised" before and loved it.
While I relished the idea of a week away with two of our closest friends and unlimited food and drink, I was adamant that we not do it on water. They reasoned that you can't feel the waves and that it's like a big floating building.
Still, I didn't budge.
Last night, the four of us went out for a lovely dinner and headed out to see Avatar afterward. The very cute usher who sold us our tickets told us we could pick up our 3-D glasses in a bin by the door.
"Um. What?" I panicked. "No, not 3-D. 2-D please. Only one dimension for this girl."
She informed us that they only had Avatar in 3-D so I was shit out of luck. John punched me in the arm and said all this hoopla about me getting motion sick was just in my head and to suck it up. God, he makes me swoon that man.
I made it through the previews and relaxed a bit. The movie started and I had a bit of a headache, but I was determined to try. Then they started to float through the air, lights lit up and water flowed everywhere.
At that point I was done for.
I swiftly made my way out of the there and tried to make the long walk to the bathroom without tossing my cookies, or steak rather, into a trash can or available popcorn container. I made it. Barely.
Then I sat outside the theatre, breathing in and out, texting John to let him know I was okay. I cry when I barf (now you really know enough about me!), so that's what Lucy found when she came out to get me. She went back into the theatre, grabbed the boys and off we went to get refunds.
Lucy helped me to the car, left the window open and soothed me because I felt so bad.
As we drove back I said "Do you guys still want to take me on a cruise?"
"Not so much" was the consensus.