Lobster Boy

Third Day in Mazatlan and I am a Lobster Boy.

The morning after our first night here (which went until the wee hours of the morning) the boyz, working on 3 hours of sleep, burst into our room and began making Bloody Marys at 7am. I rolled over and they headed out for a day of golfing while I slept. Later on I spent the day swimming in the mighty Pacific and my feet are now a deep, bbq red from toasting in the sun.

Had some great meals the last two nights and the nightlife has been fun, even though the boyz insist on going to the ballet every night. Once is OK, but after two nights in a row of bad Mexican ballet I'm pulling rank as the Bachelor and insisting on some live music or something.

Just ten minutes ago the second shift of Brothers arrived from Seattle: there were seven of us for the first days and now we've got three more in the mix and they are ready to GO. I'm gonna head back out into King Neptune's pool and catch some waves before sunset and the festivities begin.

When people ask what we're doing here I say -- in very bad Spanish: "Oh, we're here on a year-long intensive Spanish language study and this is our last week here." If they reply, they say something like, "You guys don't study much, do you?"

More later,

Kevinato