One of my oldest and closest friends, Olivia, landed a gig on an Alaskan cruise line last year where she performed acapella-style pop hits a few nights a week. The coolest perk in my opinion: free visits for loved ones. I have seen Olivia sing, dance, and act at Perry Meridian High School, Indiana University, a Mormon town in Utah, and in the Alaskan Gulf aboard a luxurious, way-out-of-my-pay-grade ship.
One year ago, I embarked on my journey to meet up with her and board the ship docked in Vancouver. After a few-hour layover in Denver, accidentally smuggling mushrooms through Canadian customs, jumping the turnstile because I couldn’t figure out the metro payment situation, and wandering around a midnight party-scene Vancouver trying to find the hostel I booked with a dead phone and help from strangers, I finally passed out on the top bunk of my little shared room.
I woke early and stared out my window into the quiet, city morning before getting up to grab some food. I hadn’t eaten since the Chick-fil-a sandwich I had in Denver the day prior. The ship was docking around 9 a.m.—I had a few hours to kill before reuniting with my bestie. I enjoyed a much needed breakfast and cappuccino at an Italian-style cafe, where I discovered I had unknowingly smuggled extra mushrooms into Canada (I had chocolates safely stowed away, but unbeknownst to me I also had in my possession a few loose caps and stems in my fanny pack pocket leftover from the last dance party I had gone to). Obviously, Canadian boarder patrol is a little more chill than America’s, thank the heavens. I checked out the graffiti and murals around town and headed to the cafe where Olivia and I were to meet. As I always do, I found a local artsy publication and read about a local lingerie maker based in Vancouver. All hail free local print media!
After a beautiful day in the city involving brunch, a bottle of bubbles, and tourist shopping, we headed for Olivia’s temporary floating home, the MS Noordam of Norwegian Cruise Lines. Miss Noordam was a beautiful ship; capable and elegant, crawling with richies. We enjoyed the hot sun on the front deck in the hours before we set sail into icy waters and grey skies. Tourists from all over the world were chatting, drinking, and taking photos. Eventually Olivia’s ship friends came out to join us as we toasted to the week to come, danced, and laughed as they all got to know me.
While on this cruise I was, of course, enjoying time with my friend. But I was also fantasizing that I was on assignment for some prestigious magazine, reporting on the dynamics of ship life from seasoned cruisers to immigrant workers. I put on my Joan Didion glasses and became the ultimate observer. Maybe it was the fact that most people on this little world of its own on the water were multiple tax brackets higher than me, or maybe it was the mysterious energy of being quite literally at the top of the Earth—whatever it was, it made me feel like a reporter touching on both the quiet horrors of privilege and luxury, and the whimsical nature of human beings seeking adventure.
When Olivia was rehearsing or going about her daily routines, I tried to indulge in as much as I could that the ship had to offer. Almost every day I treated myself to the sauna on board near the spa, which had about 100 services I couldn’t afford. Only once was there another traveler soaking up the heat. She was an older woman, maybe in her sixties, overweight, makeup dripping down her face. She seemed shocked to see me enter. I sat down and began to breathe softly. Two breaths in I was interrupted. I might add I was ridiculously high—I believe this was the day I smoked a joint and walked around Ketchikan while Olivia slept before her show that evening. I wanted to heat up and thaw out my weed anxiety.
She began with some sort of small talk. I was polite and returned her energy. After a few sentences back and forth, she revealed her truth, complaining about the amenities aboard the beautiful, expensive, lavish Miss Noordam.
“We went on a Virgin cruise last year and it was much nicer,” the sweaty old lady said with and eye roll.
“What’s Virgin?” I asked earnestly.
“What’s Virgin?” She asked, with the slightest twinge of a scoff. “Virgin… the cruise line.”
“Oh cool, never heard of them!” I replied. “Do you go on cruises often?”
She was eyeing me up and down, finally confirming in her head that I was not among her kind.
“Yes, and this one really isn’t all that nice.” She said as she leaned forward a bit, as if to help me understand the gravity of her opinion. She continued on, noting how there wasn’t much to do, services weren’t up to par, and the whale watching excursion she booked that day had been cancelled, so her and her husband had “nothing to do.” This cruise was the most gluttonous and glamorous shit I had ever been on. I listened as she continued to complain. She finally asked in a skeptical tone, “What excursions did you book for this week?”
As if a peasant like me could afford excursions. I replied that I hadn’t, but that I was super excited to hike in Alaskan forests and mountains and explore the different towns with my friend who was a singer on the ship. She stared at me, swaying a bit as if I was boring her. Then, she said she was too hot and got up and left.
I let the conversation simmer as I was left alone with Kanye West’s lyric “How you gone be mad on vacation?” ringing in my head. We had been sitting in a sauna on a boat in the middle of a sea… and here she was complaining? It woke a little part of me up that reminded me how lucky and grateful I was to be doing this Alaskan cruise in a way that felt true to me—cheap, rascally, and with a loved one. I felt for this woman and all in the world like her with too much money to spend and a general dissatisfaction about life.
During the week I lived aboard Miss Noordam, Olivia and I explored as much as we could of Ketchikan, Juneau, Glacier Bay, and Skagway. We woke up early to learn about the mysteries and beauties of Glacier Bay National Park from park rangers, hiked a ten mile or so trail up and into the mountains, enjoyed performances aboard the ship by her newly made friends, learned more about each other through vulnerable conversations, and just generally refreshed our souls. There were amazing art books in the library on board, seminars about Alaskan wildlife and biodiversity, and beautifully performed dance and music by Olivia and her peers. I often thought of the woman I met in the sauna, and what kind of time she might be having. I sat on the deck most mornings with the provided free coffee I got to indulge in and journaled, read, observed, and did yoga. I got many weird looks as I did breath work and stretches overlooking the expanse of water and sky, but I let the looks roll off my back. Why not be the most me I can be in any space? The air was chilly and crisp, a truly divine experience I wasn’t going to let other people define for me.
Wandering about with Olivia and her friends, guests would stop us all the time and ask if they were the talent. The mostly older guests seemed to revel in their youth and brilliance. To witness people appreciating their art forms was refreshing. But I also pondered on how the talent and I with them stuck out like sore thumbs. People knew there was something different about us—youth, radiance, style, and beauty. The guests saw it and adored it. Amongst this overflowing amount of people on the ship, the performers lit up the room wherever they were. It was easy to see.
Feeling “otherized” in this space was very much a blessing. I came home with greater appreciation for all that I have in this life. I was grateful, not embarrassed, to be the one who didn’t know what a Virgin cruise line was. I explored the maze-like halls of the ship, John Coltrane and Duke Ellington in my headphones, witnessing so much life surrounding the lavish.
After the woman in the sauna left, I was interrupted by a young, Asian woman who worked in the spa. She said she was looking for an old lady in a pink swimsuit. I let her know that she had left about five minutes ago, and without knowing why I asked, I inquired on why she was looking for her.
“She’s booked for a massage in 10 minutes,” the young, kind woman responded, and then she said thank you and left.
Peace and love. Many blessings.
Here’s a few more photos from our adventure. Miss and love you Olivia!






Why not be the most you… in every space… at every time… always and forever… this world, these humans need your words, your thoughts. This is beautiful, funny, insightful, honest. I loved reading it. Don’t ever stop.