So, if someone asked you, "What did you do this summer?", what would you say? I would say, I played with a whole bunch of Mexican sailors, dealt with more tourists than I ever would have thought possible, and fell in love with a Mormon.

I know. I know. Who'd have thunk it? I certainly would have been the last one to expect this to happen. Whenever I move or go to a new place, I always hope that I will meet someone interesting, but I never actually expect to. And I REALLY don't expect to find someone really, REALLY interesting, like I managed to find this summer, in my little friend Seth. And when I find this interesting person, I don't expect him to be MORMON. But this supposed summer romance managed to spin out of my control, and his control, and take on a life of its own.

And he's probably as equally surprised as me that I'm NOT Mormon and I am that he is. It's kind of a funny situation. I enjoy the irony. The religion thing isn't really a big issue. At least, it doesn't bother me at all. And what's funny is the only reason he left Alaska with any shred of his virtue intact (a small shred, but shred none the less) is because of me, because if it had been up to him, we would have done the deed a long time ago. The fact that he's Mormon doesn't bother me at all, but I worry a bit that my NOT being Mormon is an issue for him. I know it is an issue. I just wonder how big of an issue.

I never intended this whole to thing to get serious, but somehow along the way, it did. What this means in my life right now I don't really know. I really hate the long distance relationship thing. I always scoff at people in long distance relationships, saying baah, they can never make that work. But that's not entirely true. A lot of them don't work, but not all of them fail. I shouldn't just automatically think the worst. And I don't. I'm not really sure where our relationship stands right now. I don't know exactly if we're together, or not, or what, but I do know that we care about each other a lot. Seth already left Alaska about two weeks ago, and it's been a hard two weeks. This whole situation is kind of driving me insane, but there's nothing I can really do about it at the moment.

All I do know is that Seth lives in Salt Lake City, and I live in Yosemite. Oh yea. I got a job working at a lodge in Yosemite for the winter. It's going to be super-sweet. The place looks really cool, the management seems down to earth, and I think it's going to be a really great experience. Maybe I'll learn to snowshoe. Or downhill ski. Or both. Hopefully both. And hey, if anybody wants to go on a trip to Yosemite, come on down!

So I'm glad to have that worked out. Now I just need to work on applying to grad school. Gagh.

At least I'm keeping my life interesting.

Hi, Seth. How are you? I am good. I am here at home, waiting to go to work. Still in my pajamas. I just ate scrambled eggs for breakfast. I used the eggs and cheese and stuff that we bought together. I used the tomatoes that you sliced and I was thinking, "Seth cut these tomatoes. They're good still. He reallly hasn't been gone very long at all." But it sure seems like it. I sort of had to eat them, or throw them away, because I couldn't have them hanging around. It's too much of a reminder. Not that I want to forget, it's just that something like that..it just really makes me upset for some reason. I really don't understand myself sometimes.

I don't really know what the point of this email is. I've just been thinking about you. Well, I think about you all the time. And I was just going to try to put some of my feelings into words I guess. This is really more a journal entry than a letter to you directly..I'm trying to figure out what I'm feeling.

See, now, even in writing this letter, I've started crying again. I'm surprised at myself that even after this time the sadness is still that close to the surface. But apparently it is. I just..I don't know. I'm really scared right now, because I don' know what is going to happen. I am in a position where I could get hurt really, really badly, and I hate the fact that I am that vulnerable. I mean I've told you before how I like to be totally independent and self-sufficient and not require anybody or anything else to maintain my own happiness and satisfaction, but the truth is that is just not the case. But I hate the fact that right now my well-being depends on what another human being does. I'm just really confused by the situation. I mean, I don't know if we're together, or not together, whether we're going to stay in close contact or not. I do know that we love each other but I'm not sure if that's going to last or not..though I would like it to..but who knows what will happen?? I hate that feeling of not knowing. I hate not being able to define what we are doing here. And this is not a plea for you to define it, that's not what I'm saying at all. We CAN'T define it, yet, and that's what bugs me. I mean, we can't at least for a while yet, at the least until I move and see what that situation is like, and then we'll maybe have an opportunity to redefine our situation. You know what I mean?

I am thinking too much. I am thinking way too freaking much. But this is what I do. This is my process. I can't understand how you can sit there and just miss me and just be there in the moment just missing me and not be worrying about all this other crap! You must know a secret that I don't. I wish I could do that, but I can't. I've never been able to.

I hate the fact that, I mean, we're talking on the phone and then we're like, oh yea remember the time when we went to the grocery store, or, remember when we were in the car..or whatever it is, and we talk about this thing we did together in the past, just recently in the past..and I think, we're not making any new memories together anymore. Your life now is completely and totally separated from mine. They don't overlap at all. You're building a new life, continuing your life without me, and I'm continuing mine. Course we're not totally without each other, but at least physically we are, in the day to day stuff. And that day to day stuff is so important...

I almost want to be like, fuck it, I'm going to forget all my stupid plans and move to Utah. But no, of course I can't. Of course in reality I don't want to. It's just hard. I hope what I'm doing now ends up to be worth it, that's all. I mean, I know I love you, I know you make me happy, I know I want to be with you. But I DON'T know that I'll manage to apply to graduate school, that if I do apply I'll be accepted, that if I'm accepted I'll get a fellowship, that if I get a fellowship or not, I'll succeed, that if I succeed I'll get a good teaching job, that if I get a good teaching job I'll finally be satisfied, that if I get a teaching job that is satisfying I'll also have a satisfying home-life, that if I hadn't bothered to sacrifice so much for my career, I could have just lived a much simpler but happier and more emotionally satisfying life with you....you know what I mean?

I've probably totally lost you. Like I said, this more of a journal entry than a letter to you. In fact, I think I will post it in my blog. I've been keeping a blog ever since I went to Madrid for the first time; maybe it would be interesting for you to read it. Anyway, I guess I'll still send this email to you too since it is all about you. I hope I don't freak you out with my sudden outpouring of female emotion. I don't know what you will have to say in response either, but I would be interested to know what you think.

I do love you, Seth.

Chloe

Things are going well. Work is fine. Now that it is August, it is coming to the point where I might actually have to face the inevitable truth that I need a job for the winter, and that I need to move to California. I've started the wheels in motion again..we'll see what happens. I am super-stressed about it at the moment and would prefer not to think about it, but that does no one any good.

Besides that whole deal, there is the Mormon situation. Kristen, this boy is so sweet. I mean, seriously. He is SOOOOOOO superprecioso. He is just the cutest sweetest little thing, I can't even tell you. And, amazingly enough, he likes me a lot, o sea, un monton. Our relationship is so great. Why does this have to happen to me NOW?? WHHHYYYY?!?!??!!?!? God DAMN it. What the fuck can I do. Pretty much nothing. I mean, in all honesty, I haven't been with this boy very long. But this is like the most successful relationship I have had, since the three year one I had in high school, which is just a totally different thing. But noOoOOoo..he has to live in Utah, and I have to live in..on Neptune, or where ever the fuck I'm going to live. Sigh. Of course, the romantic, idealistic, airhead part of me wants to think, weeell..maybe I can move to UTAH and we can be together forEVer!! But then I think, wait a minute, Chloe. Utah? Are you fucking serious? It would suck out my soul. I woud not be happy there, I know I wouldn't. HE should just move to California to be with ME.

This poor little innocent boy. I think that is part of the reason I like him, his innocence. It just makes him so sweet and wide eyed. Listen to this, Kristen. You have no idea how green he was until I got my hands on him. Fijate. Before me, he hadn't touched a boob, nor seen a boob, let alone a poonani, but besides that, he hadn't even MADE OUT WITH A GIRL. Can you believe this?? He's 22 years old!!! And now, woa billy. Oh how the mighty have fallen. We haven't ahem, gone all the way (mostly because I said I didn't want that responsibility), but we've done preeeetty much everything else you could possibly do. Let's just say he jumped head first into the pool. No pun intended. And it has NOT been me pushing him into anything, I swear. He was Ready with a capital R.

Right now he is out of town for a few days with his family. I do not want to meet his mother, because she is going to eat my head off. For what I've done to her innocent little baby. Course she doesn't know exactly, but that doesn't make me any less nervous. Night before last, I went out late to the bars when he was with his family, and he left me this little note stuffed in the crack of my door, high school style, talking about how much he liked me and stuff. HOW PRECIOUS IS THAT?? And then, I totally drunk dialed him at 4 in the morning to talk to him about it. But surprisingly enough, he didn't answer. I left him a drunk confused message though. I'm kind of embarrassed about it actually. Eheh. I hope I didn't say anything weird, and I hope I didn't wake up his mom, but I don't think he was with her.

Anyway. Unfortunately, he's only here for THREE MORE WEEKS. I only have three more weeks of cuddling and then I'm cut off. Again. Just enough time to get used to getting affection and then it's gone. LIFE IS SO UNFAIR. Gaaaagh. What can I do??? There's really nothing I can do. This sucks. But..I'm still very, very glad it has happened.

I'm happy to say, I have some exploits to report. As some of you may recall, last year, I got an upclose and personal view of Mormon life, living on Fox Island where half the population was young, married, and Mormon.

Well, this year, I've been getting a much more upclose (and much more personal) with one particular Mormon. His name is Seth, and he's a deckhand for KFT. I met him a while ago when I first got here. This is his first year here so I didn't know him last year. But a few weeks ago, around the third of July, we really started hanging out. And I've seen him almost every day since then. And he is supersweet and supercute and superprecioso, and he likes me a lot. And he tells me so.

This is so great. Things are so easy with him. There is no struggle. There is no wondering if he wants to see me, because I know he does. He invites me to do things and he does what he says he's going to do. And he's just so nice. Not just to me, but to everybody. But the whole Mormon thing is kind of weird. Though he's not as Mormon as you might think, or as I might have thought. Or did think, before. Anyway...

It is a little weird though. I have, of course, had way, WAY more experience than he has. Which is actually kind of fun. But also, kind of weird. I don't want him to feel needlessly guilty about anything..but I guess that's his responsibility, not mine. But either way, I'm treading carefully here.

But seriously, he's the real deal. Born and raised in Utah County. Went on a mission to Scotland. He's a card-carrying, underwear-wearing Mormon. What am I doing?? Well, I'm having fun. There is basically no way this is going to be any more than a summer thing, but for the time being, I'm going to enjoy myself.

Besides that, been working an assload. Not getting paid enough naturally, but whatever. Enjoying my job, and enjoying life. I've had a little time to get away, spending a night in Homer with my friend Joe, that was fun. Spending some time on Fox Island. Spending some time with friends. Good times, good times.

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.

Yes, finally, thank God, we've gotten the internet installed. I was starting to go through withdrawl symptoms. We also got cable tv hooked up, which is pretty cool. We only got the basic package though, which only has the major channels which you really shouldn't have to pay for anyway, but also, we get the Sealife Center channel which gives us live-action on-site footage of the sealions off the Chiswell islands. That's what we're watching right now.

So things in Alaska are going good. My roommates are pretty cool, though religious. I was a little trepidacious at first, as when I arrived in the apartment the first thing I noticed were the Bible verses written on the bathroom mirror, but I soon realized that my fears were unfounded. They are fine and not at all pushy or annoying about it.

My job is going well too. Working in the front office keeps you pretty busy, but that's the way I like it. The computer system is kind of complicated but I'm getting the hang of it. This past weekend the weather was really bad, which was kind of a gigantic pain in the ass because we had to warn each tourist as they came through the office that there was a chance the boat might turn around and come back early. And as any of you who have ever worked with tourists before will know, they are not the smartest people in the world, and might in fact be the dumbest. So sometimes you have to explain what's going on a few times before it sinks in. But it's okay because after they're gone you can make fun of them about it.

I am very glad I'm not living on the island this year. Living in town is pretty fun and I have already done a bunch of cool stuff. Been on a few boat tours, seen lots of whales and glaciers, been on a dog sled ride, been camping... I've actually been having a pretty good time. I already know a lot of people from last year and I've met some new ones too. In Seward it's really easy to get to know people because every time you go to the grocery store you end up running into someone who works at Kenai Fjords.

The only bad thing about not working on the island is that Bethany is out there and I can't see her. I've hung out with her a few times already when she's been in town, but it's not the same. But that was her choice to work out there... On some of my days off though I'm going to go out there and spend the night. Just haven't gotten a chance to yet.

No really exciting stories to report yet though. Just mostly been settling in. No real good man prospects. It's like there are two types of people in town -- the ones that all have sex with each other in this big incestuous circle of friends, and the ones that don't hook up with anybody. There are kind of a lot of sketchballs actually. As they say about Alaska, the odds are good, but the goods are odd. Think about it.

BUT, for some weird reason, there happen to be a bunch of really cool chicks. So I've been making some new girlfriends. It's really too bad I'm not a lesbian.

So as you can imagine, life in Alaska is a little bit different. When you compare it to Madrid, even more so. There's something about it though that just attracts you and draws you in. It's something in the air I think. It just smells so sweet and good... And there's so much space, and the mountains and the rivers and the ocean... Everything is on a much larger scale.

In order to help explain what is so unique, I have made a "You know you're in Alaska when..." list, a la Jeff Foxworthy:

You know you're in Alaska when:

1) you can buy Carhartts in the local Safeway.

2) the bartender at The Breeze remembers your name from last summer.

3) you look outside and think it's 7:30, when it's actually midnight.

4) they show you emergency water rescue procedures on TV.

5) the closest McDonald's in a two hour drive.

6) your work uniform involves rain pants.

7) moose graze in the cul de sac at the end of your street.
8) it takes you half an hour to walk the entire length of town.

9) you see grizzly old loggers and tree-hugging hippies playing pool together in the same bar.

10) they show highschool soccer on the TV news.