Hiya folks. What’s happening? Well, I finally have something kind of interesting to report. After working almost nonstop for four months, having little to no free time and spending the vast majority of that finite free time trapped on an island with a half mile radius, it was time for a vacation. And a vacation did we have.

So Mel’s mom and sister came up from Oregon this past week, which created a perfect opportunity for her to hang out with her family that she hadn’t seen for a long time, and for me to tag along. Although I think in this type of situation it would be easy to feel like the fifth wheel, I really felt, rather appropriately, more like the fourth. Much as would occur in my family, I have the feeling that an outside influence probably ended up keeping everybody on their best behavior, and petty disputes to a minimum.

So first we headed out from Seward to Girdwood, Mel, mom, sister, David, Rachel, and myself. We all piled into the rented Chevrolet, and Mel’s intrepid 1974 Volvo station wagon to make the two hour journey. Upon arrival, it didn’t take long until we were taking advantage of the hot tub available at our rented condo, nor did it take long for us to fall back into the groove of ACTUALLY being able to consume alcohol without fear of retribution. (Incidentally, since I haven’t been drinking too much this summer, my tolerance has gone WAY down. The days of me downing an entire bottle of wine without skipping a beat are over. At least, for now. I shudder to imagine myself on my first free weekend in Spain).

The next morning we all got up early and set out to go hiking in Whittier, quite possibly the oddest town in the entire United States of America. Alaska is remote, period. Seventy percent of its towns are not accessible by road. Although reachable by car, you can only access Whittier through one particular tunnel through a mountain which is only one lane wide, and which is shared with the railroad. About every 45 minutes the flow of traffic changes direction, and you can go from one side to the other. Everyone who lives in the town (about 200 year round residents) live in the same building, kind of a Seattle Best Western looking thing. The old building, of which the bare, windowless shell remains, was damaged in the 1963 earthquake, and stands up on the hill, imposing and desolate, doubling as I’m sure the basis of many a town ghost story, as well as teenager make-out central, and pot smoker’s haven.

Our purpose for visiting this bizarre-ass place was for hiking, which we did. In Alaska, they do not believe in switchbacks. It’s all vertical, all the time. But we all made it up without too much of a problem and got a nice, clear view of Portage Glacier. Afterwards we made it back to Girdwood for another evening in the hot tub and sauna.

The real fun began the next day, however. Mel, her mom, sister, and I drove up to Talkeetna lodge in the rental car. Although it was kind of overcast and splotchy, Mel and I managed to catch a flightseeing tour of Mount McKinley, which was AWESOME. We did a couple swoops around the mountain, checking out the climbing trails and glaciers that form this tallest peak in North America. We felt especially hardcore because at the high altitudes, we had to wear oxygen masks. The coolest part too is that although the tour usually costs like $250, Mel and I got to go FO’ FREE because of our KFT connections. Ah, the perks of working for a massive, corporate company.

That night, we had a serendipitous encounter with the unsinkable Jacob Berg and Paul Krog. They too were on an Alaskan adventure, but had headed out long before us for the Artic Circle and were on their way back. It was by pure coincidence (or design?) that we happened to run into them in the natural foods store outside of the place where we did the flightseeing tour. They told us of word they had heard about a band playing at a local bar that night, and we decided to check it out.

And, ladies and gentlemen, it was SO MUCH FUN. I’m not sure if it was the company, or the fact that I was on vacation, or the fact that I was simply off the island, or, it could have been the ten + drinks that we had that night, but we all had a BLAST. The music was GREAT, the crowd was fun, the liquor was strong, and our spirits were high. What made it even better, at least to me, was that I was sporting one of our newly created island t-shirts. You see, some of us Fox Islanders had decided to get together to make t-shirts commemorating our summer experience, so we had these jerseys printed out that say on the front, “Fox Island, Summer 2004.” And then on the back they say, “I can’t. I’m Mormon.” Now, of course, my t-shirt was worn in complete irony, but don’t worry about me being offensive because two of the Mormons themselves bought the shirts too. It’s so fun. They’re all different colors. Mine is purple.

The next morning, I have to say, in all honesty, Mel and I were rock stars. After dancing our asses off, drinking copious amounts of alcohol, and staying out until three in the morning (we were lucky enough to find a ride back with some random dudes..I have no idea what their names were) we managed to rally and get up at five to drive three hours to Denali National Park to take a seven hour bus tour into the park. It was super-cool though. We saw moose, lots of birds, wolves, grizzly bears. Definitely worth the sleep deprivation. I think I still like the ocean better though. Something about being on the water.

The only problem with this little vacation, is that midway through Mel and I realized that there was no possible way that we could make it back to the Island on the day we said we would. I kind of suspected this the whole time, but I was just kind of jumping on the band wagon and assuming it would all work out. However, it sort of didn’t, and we soon admitted (not at all grudgingly, I might add) that we’d have to stay away one more day. So Mel calls Jesse and makes up this itty bitty fib about her car breaking down and us being stuck in Anchorage, which, okay, was not ENTIRELY true, but almost sort of was. Only Jesse happened to be off the island and see Mel’s car, so he knew we were lying. So Mel had to call him back and sort of come clean (well, not entirely, but close enough), which actually makes me feel better, because I am the world’s worst liar, and upon seeing Jesse after we get back I probably would have been like, first thing, Jesse would say, “Well, hi, Chloe. How was your break?” And I would be like, “OH MY GOD. OKAY, IT WAS A LIE!! MEL’S CAR NEVER BROKE DOWN!! IT WAS A BIG, UGLY LIIIIIEE!” So it’s better this way. And we spent this extra time we had productively getting haircuts (Mel has a cute new bob, and I have bangs) and watching Margaret Cho DVDs.

But alas, we must go back to the grind tomorrow. I only have like two more weeks left out here. God that’s frightening. It kind of seems like I just got here yesterday. But then again at the same time, it feels like I’ve been here forever. People have started to leave. Christina, the uber-Christian, was the first to go. And, you know what, I think I’ll miss the little lady. Although she bugged the crap out of me for a long time at first, we really came to some sort of mutual understanding and respect. Not to sound all after-school special or anything, but it’s kind of true. I think the summer was really good for her. She mellowed out A LOT. And I too probably came to understand and tolerate her kind, as well as her understanding mine.

There are only about half of us left now. One of which, unfortunately, is Brad the chef. Though I might’ve learned to like Christina, I have NOT learned to like him. Neither has anyone else. He still sucks big hairy monkey balls. In my opinion. I’m not sure what the next year will bring for me, but I really hope to make it back up here next summer. Paul, Jacob, Mel and I plan to set out on The Great Alaskan Adventure, Part II. I don’t know the details, but it will most likely include visiting the Artic Circle and a cross-country scavenger hunt. I will keep you posted on that one.

As my time on the island draws to a close, I realize that, although I sure liked to bitch about it a lot, we really had a lot of fun this summer. Not a day went by when I didn’t end up cracking up laughing at SOMEthing or other. Be it David bleaching his hair platinum blond and cutting it into a mullet, Mel accidentally giving me a right hook to the stomach, Merlin dropping a dump large enough in the crew cabin so as to evacuate the whole building, Sam doing his black girl booty dance, Wiesel accidentally dropping the f-bomb in front of the guests, or me being totally CONVINCED that Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston had dropped anchor in Seward and been spotted by Tina renting a movie at First Video, something every day always seemed to make me guffaw. We really sort of developed our own weird little society out there. There will never be anything quite like it again.