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For the second time in as many days, it is New Year’s Eve.

This is because we actually crossed the international date line sometime yesterday, making last night technically New Year’s Eve. The Star stays on Honolulu time, though, so tonight is also New Year’s Eve. I think it’s Tuesday, somewhere, but I can’t really be certain.

Our birthday girl is, naturally, delighted by this double celebration.

We spent all day at sea, rolling from one wave to the next, feeling a bit sloshed about in our cabin. Nights have been the worst, when the wind howls past our balcony. The sea bands seem to be helping, so I have been leaving them on as much as possible. The captain assured us that we are actually having very smooth seas, and that he is quite pleased with our voyage. I shudder to think about what it must be like out here when he considers it “bad.”

Most of the day passed by while Liz and I napped, snuggled comfortably in our stateroom, emerging only for mealtimes. Toward mid-afternoon, we hit the spa for some hot tub time, and lay about on the lounge chairs there, watching the ship’s wake trail off into the distance. The spa tubs are especially nice because they are not crowded, and no one under eighteen is allowed in the spa area. We split a mango smoothie at the fitness center before heading back to our cabin to rest some more.

Liz had a pedicure appointment this evening, and came back with shiny red toenails — very nice. While she was away, I got into my tux, and had a few minutes to preen and prance around in front of the mirrors, practicing looking suave. Damn, did I look good.

We met my parents downstairs at the grand atrium, where we got formal pictures taken. From there we went to our dinner at the SoHo Room, where we met up with Liz’s mother, bearer of the almighty champagne. Anne had picked up a bottle of Dom that was simply superlative; it effervesced away in our mouths as we drank it, and it was quite a delightful match with the sea scallop appetizer that Liz and I had selected. My steak was a taste of heaven, and Liz’s monkfish was out of this world. My parents seemed to enjoy their veal chop, having basically picked it clean. Anne says her tiger prawns were also quite good. For dessert, I had the clear winner, a chocolate cheesecake dipped in tempura batter and fried. Mmmm-mm!

Liz and I noticed, with some satisfaction, that the captain had also selected the same restaurant that we had. That’s kind of a nice validation of one’s tastes.

The staff brought out a birthday cake for Liz and we all sang. I hope we succeeded in embarrassing her.

Then my parents were off to “The Music of the Night,” a song and dance production of a bunch of Andrew Lloyd Webber tunes, while Liz and I headed back to our room to crash.

Addendum, from the next morning:

Liz says that the countdown to midnight woke her up. She says she tried to wake me up, to little avail. It apparently went something like this:

Liz: Monkey, wake up.
Me: …
Liz: Monkey, happy new year!
Me: zznurgh?
Liz: Monkey, it’s the new year! Happy new year! I love you!
Me: Okay. That’s nice. I’m going back to sleep now.

At least, that’s her story.

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