Well, I am happy to report that I have something interesting to write about. The last week has been very eventful. Very eventful, indeed. I will esplain you.

Seward, Alaska is a sleepy town of 3,000 year-round residents. It is the home of Mount Marathon and hosts the second oldest marathon held in the US, after the Boston Marathon. It is also home to the historic "mile one" marker for the original Iditarod dogsled trail. Seward was a very important town during the gold rush, as it boasts the northernmost year round ice-free port in Alaska. It has a bustling harbor, with numerous cruiselines using it as one of their port of calls.

As so does, on occasion, the Mexican navy.

That is right, my friends. Last week a 250 foot Mexican navy sailing ship dropped anchor in Seward harbor, complete with 75 foot high masts and huge, billowing sails. They entered the harbor with a barrage of cannon blasts, singing La Bamba, hanging from high up on the masts and waving their little sailor hats. It was the most excitement Seward has seen since the 1964 earthquake and tidal waves that flattened the village to the ground.

And let me tell you ladies, it was better than Fleet Week on Sex and the City.

Needless to say, I was all about this. I was super-excited, first of all, because there were going to be 250 Mexican sailors who hadn't seen hide nor hair of a woman in 28 days running around the streets of Seward wearing their little sailor outfits, and second of all, because I could speak Spanish again, at least for a little while. No, seriously, that was really one of the major reasons I was excited.

So the first night I went out to the Yukon bar to see Hobo Jim do his weekly performance. There were sailors EVERYWHERE. I was talking to everybody and everything, translating this, translating that. I felt like finally I was getting to use my Spanish for something cool. Like it really was a valuable asset. I even got up to the mic and translated for Hobo Jim, letting all the sailors know that anyone in a uniform could get a free drink on the bar. Needless to say, I think that boosted my popularity, not that I wasn't already getting more than enough attention anyway. My friends and I ended up dancing with just about everyone, and I sort of was smooching with one of them too, but only because I was rather pidipi.

So after the Yukon closed, we decided to go to another bar, appropriately named The Pit. It is the bar that everyone goes to when all the other bars are closed. And it was my first time there, which seems oddly appropriate. Actually, it was not nearly as skanky as I had imagined. I stayed at this bar until about 4 am, dancing, laughing, smooching, talking, until finally I went home.

Unfortunately I had to work at 6:30 the next day, meaning I got about one hour of sleep. I was so jazzed though, I didn't mind that much. After work, seven of us ladies from the front desk decided to go over to the sailing ship for a tour. The guy who was leading us around was just about peeing his pants with excitement because he was getting to lead us fine honies all around his boat. He didn't speak English that well, so he was sort of speaking to me in Spanish about half the time and then having me translate. So this front desk girl Fad asks me to ask him if he's ever afraid of the water. I do, and he says no, he's not afraid of the water; he's afraid of women. "Do you know why?" he asks me. "Because I am still 'seniorito.'" Meaning, in other words, that he's still a virgin. So I start cracking up and of course I have to explain this to my friends. But then, to make matters even weirder, he KEEPS saying it, like, over and over, bringing it up. He was a weird guy. But the tour was fun.

During all these shenanigans, my friends and I were invited to go to a party on the ship like 10 times. So my friends Jill, Christina and I decide to go. We find out, after another friend of ours is turned away, that the party is actually a formal affair, so I have to borrow clothes from Jill in order to get in. After we get there, we realize that this party is actually kind of an official thing. Like the mayor is there, a whole bunch of coast guards. We feel a little out of place. That is, of course, until we start to drink. There was tequila as far as the eye could see. There was also traditional Mexican food, and a giant cake shaped like a boat. We ended up talking to these two nice sailors for most of the duration of the party, and it was a pretty good time. And besides, now I can say I once crashed a party on a Mexican navy boat.

So the party ends at like 9 and we're totally jazzed. We go home, change out of our silly formal wear, and head out to the Breeze, where we meet up again with the two sailors, and also a group of coasties who we had seen in uniform only moments before. We end up talking to these guys until the bar closes at 2.

I had to work the next day, but luckily, not until 2, which gave me time to nurse my hangover. I go to KFT and work for a few hours, and I notice that there is a group of sailors going on one of our tours at 5:30, and the organizer who is bringing them on doesn't speak Spanish. "Hey, I speak Spanish," I say, and I ask one of my bosses and he says I can go on the boat as a "translator." So I do! It was a little awkward and weird at first, having to go up to strange men and be like "HI! I'm Chloe! Do you want to talk to me?" Luckily, however, they did want to talk to me. It ended up being a good time, though I was kind of embarrassed.

That evening I went back to the Breeze with Christina where they were having a special taco night in honor of the Mexicans. We hung out there for a long time. I talked to the captain for a good long while and he was a really nice guy. And he's half Basque too. As the night progressed, I became more and more intoxicated, and thus, more and more chatty, until at the peak of the evening, I found myself in the middle of a conversation with a group of Mexican sailors, comparing Spanish and Mexican slang terms for pooping and farting. I thank Nacho Zorita for giving me the vocabulary in order to participate in this discussion. I also sang the booger song. I'm sure they were very impressed.

Anyway, throughout this week I think I managed to meet about half the sailors on the boat. I have a feeling they were extremely amused by me. Not very many people speak Spanish in Seward, first of all, and I seriously doubt any of them speak it with a Spanish accent besides myself. I was like their little pet. The vast majority of the sailors were very nice and well behaved, but of course there were some sketchballs thrown into the mix too. But what are you gonna do?

So needless to say I am completely exhausted. I worked every day this week too without any days off. I am now on day 11 in a row of working. And I've been going out every night. I guess this is what it feels like to live the rock and roll lifestyle.

But I think I've gotten it out of my system. I'll probably go back to being my nerdy self again now. But I had a damn good time.