Seven dolphins swimming

Wish you had been there. Truly.

I have uncovered Christmas truths that I shall forever be grateful for, wisdom imparted to me by seven days at sea. I present them to you in print but recommend you sing each of the first lines out loud, forever to be branded by neighboring cubemates as "le freak."

On the first day of my cruise this lesson came to me . . . old women are indeed biddies. Yes, my friends. After hitting the threshold that is 78 these ladies turn into mean, mean girls. Truthfully, I care not for their excuses of dementia or living through both the Depression and leisure suits. Old women are ruder than Shannen Doherty on a bad day at the Peach Pit. I'm not going to go into the details, but suffice it to say that some days I wish I could have reamed the mean old ones without worrying about them dropping dead halfway through my rant.

On the second day of my cruise this lesson came to me . . . you can make fun of others as a family. Our family games began with poolside Connect Four and rose to the heights of spotting the most offensive of the holiday vests/sweaters/mistletoe earrings and Rudolph brooches DON'T COUNT ALREADY. More fun than quarter slots and CATS, I tell you. I scored unlimited points when I unknowingly rescued a full-on frantic Santa sweater from the restroom when she didn't remember to push rather than to pull. Queen for a day, I was.

On the third day of my cruise this lesson came to me . . . in the heat Uggs are unnecessary. It's 80 degrees, young one. I don't recall a scheduled stop in the Alps. Why the need to wear hairy boots?

On the fourth day of my cruise this lesson came to me . . . with cheese sculptures I must disagree. Mr. Culinary genius, I appreciate the artistic merit of your watermelon swan and even riskier endeavors such as the turkey ice carving created poolside, but the sharp cheddar duck was over the top. Not all is lost, my friend. At least your indiscretions are still less irritating than those of the much-maligned ship's photographer, who is surprisingly more persistent than the woman in Costa Maya insisting we'd all look spectacular in braids.

On the fifth day of my cruise this lesson came to me . . . cell phones are not what they're cracked up to be. Believe it or not, I survived seven full days without cell service, and these were seven of the happiest days of my life. I didn't need to call anyone when I was tubing under stalactites in 100-foot caves in Belize. And although I had the urge to drunk dial while on a catamaran in Cozumel - just to say that I was having a Corona after snorkeling at 10 in the morning - I replaced that phone space with a few more minutes staring into the teal water. I don't make resolutions, but I am vowing to try to turn my cellular crutch off more and more this year. There is just too much else to savor.

On the sixth day of my cruise this lesson came to me . . . Lost has ruined any chance of me traveling comfortably. It isn't the visual of the plane breaking in half that is etched into my brain (although I must admit to that running through my mind on occasion at 37,000 feet). I actually study the habits of those in my travel environment to gauge a) their potential to forage successfully for nuts and berries and 200-pound wild boar, b) their ability to fit the requisite island roles (e.g., young woman who looks good without makeup but amply covered in sweat DUE TO HER WEARING JEANS AND A CLUNKY BELT IN THE 100 DEGREE HEAT, canine character actor who has no problem doing nothing but drinking water for 37 consecutive takes), and c) the likelihood that they'll have an effervescent back story to which we can refer in future episodes. I'm serious.

On the last day of my cruise this lesson came to me . . . in most of us there is such beauty. Our server works six straight months before getting time off to visit her children in the Phillipines and yet she met us every evening with multiple giggles and questions about our day. She grew to know each of our names and would sneak away when no manager was near to talk more with us. On one of my shore excursions a family saw that I was touring alone and welcomed me into their group; we talked so much that the book I had intended to read while in transit sat untouched in my bag. My Belizean tour guide pulled up a chair and had chicken and Coke (in a bottle!) with me at my otherwise unoccupied table. Nearly every person I encountered took the extra time to give a little more. Call it the vacation, blame it on the holidays, but it is comforting to see that the 6 o'clock news doesn't cover all we have to offer. Even the cruise biddies couldn't ruin that.