Sarah has been setting pictures from our wedding out on the floor, to try to get a sense of how they look together before putting them up on a wall.

Sarah: Is it too much all together? Too many? Does it start to seem like some weird museum to our wedding?
Me: No. It looks good. We still haven't been married that long. And we can always eventually start swapping photos out for different things.

At work today, we were all surprised with new mugs, that must be referencing some inside joke that I missed while I was gone.

Brutally hot in Chicago. The news has been predicting it will be the hottest day in seven years.

On the other hand, according to iPhone weather, it's raining all week in Bermuda.

File this one under “It’s a Long Story” but via our time on the ship we may have given L.A. Denvering, but they gave us Whiskey Slap.

RC and Lynn had some L.A. friends visiting on the ship one week and they taught us the game Whiskey Slap which is pretty much just standing in a circle, taking a shot of whiskey and then immediately being slapped in the face. It is… uh… better than it sounds. Or maybe exactly how it sounds. It’s something to do anyway.

A few weeks ago, Sarah and I were hanging out at the iO Theater in Chicago, at the bar, fairly late, and we mentioned Whiskey Slap, and almost immediately there was a large circle of people eager to play. And then everyone wanted to play again. “It’s almost scary how much I like this,” someone said, “I don’t know what that means.”

Here’s a blurry picture of our friend Young playing the game.

So, Denvering for Whiskey Slap? A fair trade?

I took this picture of Mitchell at Sarah’s party over the weekend.

It was the first time we’d seen him since leaving the ship and it was a pleasant little reunion. After disembarking he spent some time in New York and some time Rhode Island, and now he’s back in Chicago directing a circus show and generally leading the actor’s life (which seems to involve a lot of napping).

He is already scheduled to do another ship (the same ship, in fact) in January.

Walking to the nearest L train station, I walked by these two cards on the sidewalk, and, nerd that I am, recognized them as cards from the Battlestar Galactica board game.

A few steps past, I stopped and walked back to take this picture. Then I started on my way again.

But a few steps later, I again stopped and walked back because I was curious about which cards they were. I flipped one over and... FOUND OUT I'M A CYLON!!

I’ve probably mentioned this before, but there was a whole “Denvering” craze that went through the Chicago improv community a while back. Whenever someone left their Facebook account open on a public computer or, amongst more cutthroat company, left their iPhone unlocked, their Facebook status would get changed to something like, “Moving to Denver.”

It would mislead or confuse friends, while at the same time the use of “Denver” would be an immediate tip-off to anyone in the know.

On the ship, we mentioned this to RC and Lynn, and judging from this recent RC status update, Denver is starting to make its way to L.A.

I got a pretty nice cake for Sarah's graduation party. Then I realized... I don't know what you're supposed to do with a graduation cake.

So, I paraded it around the back yard where most people were hanging out and drinking from the keg, while singing, "Happy graduation to you, happy graduation to you, happy graduation dear Sarah... happy graduation to you!"

There was a plastic graduation cap on the cake, so Sarah moved it's tassel to the other side, then, as pictured here, threw it it into the air.

One hour before Sarah’s graduation party… the power went out.

While the landlord and handyman tried to figure out what was wrong with the ancient circuit breakers, our first guests, including Meador, pictured here, showed up.

So much of life on the ship was trying (and often failing) to get decent internet. I was looking forward to putting that behind me once getting back to land.

I was wrong.

It’s been one set-back after another with Comcast. The internet keeps going out every 15 minutes or so. When I called about the problem, the first thing they tried to do was upsell me on a monthly wifi service that wouldn’t include any equipment, just the ability to have technicians look at my wifi set-up if anything goes wrong. When I finally got someone out to the apartment, they discovered that there is indeed a signal problem and it’s coming from outside, so the “outside” techs need to be called in. “They should be out in the next 48 hours.” 48 hours later I called and was told, “Unfortunately, 48 hours really means up to two weeks.”

[And that’s just internet. Cable TV service has been its own disaster. First, they tried to hook the HD TV up with a coaxial cable. When I called to get the proper connection, they seemed far more interested in getting me to retract my complaint than helping, even though I was simply saying, “Could someone just send over the right cord, please?” Also, when I signed up for service the person I talked to promised three months of free HBO, but now there’s no record of it. They did offer me three months of Showtime instead (which is nice, but not the same) and one month of HBO because that was “all I can do.” All minor things, I guess (except for the internet, which is turning into a half month long waiting game), but the accumulative effect is sort of staggering.]

The place is starting to come together.

Uh oh, new script packet (although only one this time).

I know what that means.

On the ship, if you sent laundry out to be cleaned, each article would come back with a little label ironed on somewhere with your cabin number. In our case, 4226. A decent system to prevent clothes from getting mixed up or lost, although, over time, maybe not the best for the clothes.

And I'm still, frequently finding these tags now, like the one on this purple sock that used to be black.

As I mentioned yesterday, Sarah had two graduation ceremonies, right in a row. This was the first one, in the blisteringly hot football stadium.

Four months of beaches and we somehow get our worse sun burns from a graduation ceremony in Illinois.

Can you spot Sarah in this picture? We couldn't, although we definitely spent a half hour zooming in and looking around.

Sarah: [via Facebook, right after the ceremony was over]: "So many photo-bombing opportunities."

One graduation tradition that I wasn't aware of until yesterday is the Stole of Gratitude. Sarah wore it through the ceremony (two ceremonies, actually, one in the football stadium and one in a chapel) and then afterwards she placed it on my shoulders.

Sarah: This is a symbol of gratitude meant to be given to the person that helped and supported me the most while I was getting my degree.
Me: Wow. Thanks.
Sarah: You have five minutes to enjoy it. Then I have to return it along with the cap and gown.
Me: Five minutes of gratitude. That works.

Sarah, smiling so big in the processional walk out of the chapel at the end of her graduation ceremony. Behind the camera, my smile was just as big.

One of my favorite things to do back when we were on the ship, was stand up on the pool deck while we were going under a bridge. The ship is so big that it makes everything else look like it's moving, and seeing a bridge suddenly come swooping over the roof of the Beergarden above the pool looks like a giant alien spaceship appearing in the sky.

You have to find ways to entertain yourself.

The first (and so far only) picture Sarah put up in the new apartment is this "serious pose" cast photo we bought during our last week on the ship.

Still unpacking, but starting to get to the weird intangibles. I found this little wooden box Sarah had bought for me to keep change in. Inside I'd packed my old first generation iPhone and my spare (slightly too small) wedding ring (among other tiny odd trinkets). Opening it up it sort of looked like a coffin for my departed phone.

Chock these new white bath mats up to a failed experiment.

Sarah: See that stuff over there on the table? Oh, don't mind that, that's just my cap and gown! BOOM!

An email exchange with friends I had a few months back while on the ship:

Me: "I'm not sure if I should put this on the blog, but I do find myself occasionally thinking about jumping overboard. Not in a real way. I wouldn't do it, but I think it's hard not to look at the sea and think, 'Oh, I hope I don't jump in there,' or even, sometimes, 'I bet that would be refreshing.' I think you'd have to have zero imagination to at least not ponder it for a millisecond.
Nick: "Exhibit A in Arnie's suicide trial."
Martin: "Can I ask who is being tried in Arnie's suicide?"
Hansen: "If Arnie commits suicide, America goes on trial..."
Me: "Yes, I would hope that my death would lead to some heavy handed social commentary."
Hansen: "'For, in the end, aren't we all Arnie ________s, standing on the edge of a rolling forever, yearning for a moist relief, wet absolution, and damp redemption?'"
Meador: "When I was on the Alaska cruise, I thought about jumping a few times. My main question was how long it would take before anyone noticed."
Young: "Eight and a half years."

Since getting back to land, most communication with the cast from the ship has been recycling our inside jokes on each other's Facebook pages.

Catching up on 'Mad Men.'

It's been tough to remain unspoiled on the shows we love but couldn't watch on the ship.

Apparently some big things have happened on 'Mad Men' this season. Sarah thinks she accidentally found out what happens but not who. I think I know who but not what. We're trying not to talk about it.

'Welcome back' drinks with friends (Young, Trupe, Nick, Martin and Meador (Hansen couldn't make it because he was working on a big court case)).

Trupe: You said the four months would fly by and it did.
Me: Did you all hang out much while I was gone?
Young: Kind of a lot actually.
Nick: I think we rose to the challenge of you taunting us saying you probably wouldn't miss many group get-togethers anyway.
Trupe: We wanted to prove you wrong.

So many keys now.

On the ship we had one card that took care of everything (although we had to live in constant fear of demagnetizing it).

Now, between the car, work and the new apartment (front door, mailbox, apartment door, garage, back gate, basement...) I carry maybe as many keys as I ever have. Then again, at least three or four of these are old mystery keys that I could probably just get rid of.

Back at work in the office full time. I'm excited to be back despite the fact that, because of construction (and multiple new hires), I'm going to have to temporarily make due with this tiny desk in a weird corner.

Traveling has a lot to offer, but after over a third of a year away, it's so nice to wake up in our own bed. Very little is unpacked, but luckily, last night we found the giant box labeled, "BEDDING."

This morning we layed in bed, enjoying the comfortable old familiarity.

Using my iPhone, I looked around on YouTube and played the song, "So Nice to Be Home."

Sarah: You nerd.

Moving day. Moved everything out of our storage space (which, I noticed, was about the same size as our cabin, only with much higher ceilings) and into the new apartment. Or, rather, the hired movers moved everything.

They did a good job, as far as I could tell, worked quickly, didn't seem to drop anything. Although, I accidentally discovered a good test for movers. If they have to move a giant gong, even if you're in a different room, you will definitely hear how many times they run into things.

Sarah: Do you want to see what our apartment will look like? There's the living room. And there's the bathroom. And over here you can kind of see the bedroom.