Sunday, April 09, 2006

Erin on the High Seas

For the past few months, or maybe weeks--who really keeps track?--I have been considering the merits of marrying a Latino. They include:

Improving my Spanish
Learning how to cook chile rellenos
Trips to exotic Latin-American countries to visit interesting in-laws
Eating really good food with interesting in-laws in exotic Latin-American countries

I boarded my Southwest flight on Monday with group B. I was originally in group A, but after my flight was cancelled I was stuck on a later flight and bumped to group B. This meant that I didn't have my first pick of seats on the plane and had to fit in wherever I could. Naturally when I saw an empty seat next to a young Latino, I took it. An interesting flight ensued, during which I learned that we nearly have all of the same interests (and by "all of the same interests" I mean we are both interested in American Indians and both want to escape the US) and, even more important than shared interests, he is from a Latin American country. One that is so small and [presumably] exotic that I'd never even heard of it before. I'm going to email him. Maybe we'll get married and have children named Lourdes and Miguel and eat homemade chile rellenos and dance the merengue and move to Costa Rica and be expats.

I'm used to lazy beach vacations where you get up at 10, roll out of bed and stumble down to the beach for a day of salt air, salt water, Diet Cokes and peanuts, and when you are done in the sand and the sun you stumble back to the hotel, take a shower and dress for a dinner of local fried shrimp and hush puppies. The cruise was as different as possible and I probably won't take another for quite some time, unless it's on my private yacht or sailboat and I can go wherever I want. Too many people, too much noise, too little time in the sun and the waves. But the food was good, the quality time with the fam was good, and the exotic Hungarian waiter Gabor was good.

Here are some pictures.

Our ship, Sovereign of the Seas, not to be confused with Scourge of the Sea.

Look at all of those people. Ewww. Among them was a bleached & permed & very very loud redneck woman we not-so-affectionately dubbed "Fishfood" because we really really wanted to throw her overboard.

Me & my momma.

Government House, Nassau.

The old man on the sea.

Unfortunately my plane trip back to Baltimore was considerably less exciting. The men sitting next to me were too old.


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