Summary: by Marie Vibbert read by Alasdair Stuart Links for this episode: This is the first publication of this story The author’s story about the story: http://reasie.livejournal.com/663241.html Discuss on our forums. For a list of all Escape Pod stories, authors and narrators, visit our sortable Wikipedia page About the Author… from the author’s livejournal… I live with my husband Brian (married nine whole years and counting!), his brother John and two adorable cats, in a 1930s neo-colonial that we unworthy slobs do not keep up. I’m currently employed as the webmaster for the Mandel School of Applied Social Sciences at Case Western Reserve University. My hobbies include writing, I’m a member of the Cajun Sushi Hamsters from Hell – a science fiction writer’s group. Officially ‘turned pro’ last year and got a Nebula provisional ballot nomination to boot! I’m also an avid member of the Society for Creative Anachronism. I recently started playing football for the Cleveland Fusion, a women’s tackle football team. Deshaun Stevens’ Ship Log By Marie Vibbert Personal Log — January 1 Crunches–one and a very near half. Push-ups–none unless counting getting off floor Calories–lost count, but all from alcohol, so okay One year ago today I vowed I would not spend another year working on this stupid cruise ship. One year ago my life was exactly as it is now, with exception of having a girlfriend. Trying to have a good sulk about lack of gf, but general suckatude of life winning. Have spent all adult years–five of them–treading the same tract of “unexplored” space with end trip to rings of Neptune tacked on by tourist company as apology for boringness of unexplored space. Have also set lighting and sound cues for thousand ungrateful musicians with combined talent of medium-sized shrub. (Is supposedly new tract of space each time, but how can anyone–especially easily-duped passengers who think cruise ship bands are good–tell the difference?) Current misery doubled by working with now-ex gf. Attempts to avoid said ex at New Year’s party largely consisted of going back to punch bowl repeatedly. May have sung love ballad composed in throes of self-pity at end of night. Memory foggy. Hope everyone else’s is, too. Suspecting ship regulation against alcohol v. wise after all. Hope they don’t read our logs. Resolutions: 1. Get New Job 2. Avoid romantic complications with Lido Deck Staff, especially boss, xgf, and cocktail waitresses with unfairly attractive hair. 3. Somehow, bearing number 2 in mind, get a new gf. 4. Exercise and update personal log every day **** January 15 Crunches–45 Push-ups–10 Humiliation of “Love Ballad” finally wearing down due to co-workers not having infinite time to devote to re-watching video clip recorded by jerk supervisor. Wish someone else would hurry up and do something embarrassing to capture Lido Deck attention. New band contains certified hottie named Cyndee R. Has body like type usually molded in plastic. Is utterly unlikely to notice mildly fit, intellectual, sadly single lighting and sound engineer, but hope springs eternal. Have decided to shave beard and do 400 crunches every day. **** January 16 Fifty is an acceptable number of crunches to do in one day. Anything higher uncivilized and leads to back injury which prevents both successful completion of job and ability to impress Cyndee. ***** January 22 Crunches–30 Push ups–25 Salisbury Steak Day lures me from monk-like asceticism engendered by hope of impressing hottie. Must some day make pilgrimage to Salisbury. Imagine fields of mushroom gravy v. picturesque. Not too concerned about diet as have abs of steel–if steel is made of flabby pain. Still no notice from Cyndee R, who has more talent than entire history of cruise ship performers and eyes that catch number five cerulean light beaut[...]
