Day 67: Mystery Man

Two of my cousins were getting married in Denver over Labor Day weekend. Since I didn’t want to cut my Alaska trip short, I booked a flight to Denver and left my car in Alaska. I would be in Denver for five days and it would be an opportunity to see family members while celebrating these unions.

My Uber arrived just after 4:00 am. I was running on about three hours of sleep because of the preparing and packing I had to do the night before. I talked with my driver about how Uber was temporarily removed from Anchorage because taxies were objecting, but Uber was reinstated the year prior.

When I checked into my Delta flight, they said my bag weighed 67 pounds! I told the woman behind the counter that the scale must be broken because I packed the same way I normally do for flights and it’s usually 50 pounds. She tried another scale and it also said 67 pounds. I felt justified all of the times I complained about carrying my suitcase up and down stairs constantly for the last two months.

The fee for an overweight bag was $100. I told the woman, “Wouldn’t it just be smarter for me to buy another bag at the store over there and pay for a second bag fee of $35?” She responded, “Actually, I have a suitcase that we need to get rid of in the back. You can have it. It’s missing a wheel though.”

She brought the suitcase out and it had a small slit in the back and was indeed missing a wheel. I opened my suitcase at the counter for everyone to see my underwear and started putting heavy items, like my jeans, into the smaller suitcase. I realized I was probably carrying more jeans than I normally do since I was traveling for such a long time. In addition, I was carrying my laptop bag as my carry-on, which threw off my normal packing routine.

While I finished paying for my two bags, the woman mentioned that they were overbooked by six-seven people because they normally have two early morning flights, but that day only had one, being the end of the season.

After choosing the slowest line at TSA, I walked to the counter at the gate to get my seat assignment. Delta stopped giving people a seat assignment unless they pay. I had a layover in Seattle and the woman told me she had another flight (also a layover in Seattle) that would arrive in Denver at 7:00 pm instead of 4:00 pm. I had dinner plans so I decided to pass up the other flight, even though she mentioned I would receive a gift card.

As I waited to board, I heard an announcement that they still needed someone to give up their seat. The person would receive a $400 voucher! I went back up the counter, but someone snuck in ahead of me and took the opportunity. I was kicking myself. Time used to be more valuable to me, but now that I’m no longer getting a paycheck, money is more valuable than a couple of hours. I tried to convince myself to let it go. Spending too much of my life stressing about things like this was not good for my health.

I was able to get an aisle seat, but it was the very last row where you can’t recline. I couldn’t sleep so I watched Infinity War while I was hit with butts from people waiting in line for the bathrooms. I cursed Apple once again when I realized my headphones wouldn’t fit the jack for the tv. Thankfully, they gave out free headphones for the flight.

It was a three-hour flight and I had a two-hour layover in Seattle. I couldn’t get my seat assignment until it was closer to departure, so I ate some breakfast. I got sidetracked and realized boarding was starting soon and I forgot to get my seat assignment. I walked to the counter and asked for an aisle seat. The women told me she only had middle seats left. She assigned a seat to me and I stepped aside to send some texts. A few minutes later, the woman tapped my shoulder and said, “I had to upgrade someone to Business Class, which means it opened up a seat in Comfort Plus. I put you there.” I was thrilled because Comfort Plus gives you an extra few inches of legroom.

A guy in his 20s inched near me and asked about boarding zones. It was our time to board so we headed down the tunnel. He said he was going to Denver for a wedding and I laughed, “So am I. Well two weddings actually.” The guy behind him chimed in, “I’m going to Denver for a wedding too.” We asked the names of the brides/grooms to see if we were going to the same wedding. They were both attending weddings for a Hanna, but were different weddings.

The window seat was empty and a large, tall man in his late 40s was sitting in the aisle seat. Arriving at our row, a tall man said, “I’m in the window seat.” He was so dreamy – tall, thin but fit, had a black cowboy hat on, a little bit of brown facial hair scruff, sunglass, and seemed like someone walking in from a movie. We got out of our seats so he could get to the window. The three of us standing in the aisle was comical. Aisle man was 6’5”, window man was 6’8”, and I’m 6’1”. As the window man started to go towards his seat, aisle man said, “Great, all of us in the same row.” Window man replied, “Yeah, all the big people together.”

I looked towards aisle man and said, “Did he just call me big?” Embarrassed, window man said, “I mean long, tall!” I replied, “Well, I do have hips so get over it.” The three of us laughed about how hard it is to travel when you’re tall. Thankfully, we had Comfort Plus. We each explained where we were going and I mentioned I quit my job, sold my house, and was traveling. Window man said, “Did you just go through some big life change?” I replied, “No…well, I mean, I did get divorced last year.” The men laughed and confirmed this was basically a mid-life crisis – a discovery of the self.

Window man sat there with his hat and sunglasses on, leaning with a cool swagger. I was regretting my three hours of sleep, barely any makeup, and shabby hair. We kept talking and within a few minutes, aisle man was out of the conversation.

Window man told me he was in Seattle for work and has been living in Edwards, Colorado for the last few months. Then he told me he was from the St. Louis area and was 38 years old. I couldn’t believe it. I’m also 38 and from St. Louis. We didn’t go to the same high school because we lived about 30 minutes from each other. I thought it was such a coincidence. Window man talked to me about where he’s lived (Alaska, California, Florida, and Colorado). For a few years, he lived in Malibu, about an hour from where I lived.

Window man and I kept talking, and talking, and talking. After about 30 minutes, he took off his sunglasses, and another hour later he took off his hat. His light brown hair was ear-length and he would run his hand through his hair, making it slowly fall back towards his face. His foot was propped up on the armrest in front of him and he played with his hat that was now on his lap.

I felt like I was in a romantic comedy. Maybe it’s because I had watched several recently, but this man seemed like someone straight out of those movies. He was very vague about his job so I kept thinking he was probably someone famous and I wouldn’t find out until the flight was over.

Window man told me about his father passing away 10 years ago from leukemia and how hard it was. He hasn’t talked with his brother since and had no idea where he was living. We talked about family relationships and the difficulties that come with it.

Window man and I started talking about romantic relationships and I told him about my marriage of nine years, the lies my ex told me, and the divorce. We also talked about power dynamics in relationships. I explained that even though I was successful and in a power position at work as well as most areas of my life, I don’t want to be in charge in a romantic relationship. My ex-husband was passive and never made decisions. I had to make all the decisions and do all of the planning.

Window man told me, “I’ve gotten the impression you’re an alpha woman?” I confirmed, “Yes.” He said, “I like alpha women. My girlfriend is an alpha woman. But I’ve told her that it’ll never be mistaken that I’m the man in the relationship.” We agreed that we want to be with someone who is our equal. I told him, “The thing with an alpha woman is she won’t let you be dominant in the relationship if she doesn’t trust and respect you.”

Window man told me his girlfriend is in the medical field and they have been dating for a couple of months. I was saddened to hear that he had a girlfriend. Then he said, “Who knows? Maybe she’ll break up with me in a few months.”

Window man and I talked about therapy and how helpful it has been for both of us. I explained how my therapist told me that I found my strength while hiking the John Muir Trail and the longer I stayed with Aaron, the more I lost it. She helped me to see how much he was manipulating me and how to process such a loss. Window man said, “I don’t know why people are embarrassed to talk about therapy. I’m not the same person I was 10 years ago. Going to therapy helped me by saying things out loud. I would hear myself say things to my therapist and I would think, ‘Did I just say that? I don’t want to be that person.’”

I told window man I was very excited to be taking the ferry from Alaska to Canada in a couple of weeks. He’s taken the ferry three times and recommended that I don’t bring my tent to put on the deck (which I had been planning). He told me to put my sleeping bag on one of the lounge chairs under the solarium and I’d be set.

“So you’ve been very vague about your job. What do you do exactly?” I asked. He laughed and said it was hard to explain. He’s a pilot of small planes (flew them in Alaska) and now he owns a consulting company where he helps corporations separate their planes for corporate and personal use.

We had been talking the entire three-hour flight when the plane started to land. The turbulence was very bad, causing the plane to move up and down rapidly. Feeling nauseous, I grabbed the seat in front of me and told window man, “Hold on.” He asked if it would help if he opened the window. Once he opened it, he started to explain turbulence to me to distract me. It took him five minutes to explain it and ended with, “So you see, there’s nothing to be afraid of.” I replied, “I’m not afraid. I’m about to throw up.”

I started searching for my throw-up bag and couldn’t find it. He quickly found his bag and gave it to me. I was mortified at the thought of throwing up in front of this attractive, incredibly cool man. He said, “It might help if you eat something.” I found the mini-banana I put in my purse earlier. I was struggling to get it open so window man grabbed it, turned it upside down, and squeezed it open. He said, “That’s how the monkeys do it.”

I didn’t throw up, but was still not feeling very well. We landed and were waiting for the door to open. I handed window guy my card, “In case you wanted to follow my blog.” He noticed it was my only card so he took a picture of it and gave it back. He said he might check out my video about the John Muir Trail.

We stood up to leave the plane and shook hands. But then we ended up walking together when we got off the plane. I needed to use the restroom, but wanted to keep talking. As we walked down the hall, I realized I didn’t have my neck pillow. I paused, “Shoot, I think I left my pillow on the plane.” In my head, I debated on whether I should go back or not. Window man said, “You can just buy another one.”

We arrived at the tram to take us to the other side of the terminal. I stood next to him and realized just how tall he was. I’m not used to looking up at people and it was actually making me feel dizzy. Window man asked me how long I planned on traveling and I told him the plan was for two years.

The tram arrived and we headed to the main area. I pointed towards the baggage area and asked, “Do you have baggage?” He laughed, “Oh, I got baggage. But I don’t have a bag.” I needed to pick up my bags so we said our goodbyes. He gave me a hug and said “Maybe I’ll email you.” We chatted for another minute and he hugged me again.

As I walked away, window man said, “You have a lot going for you, stop picking bad guys!” I smiled, “I’m trying!” I arrived at the baggage area and used the restroom. I looked in the mirror and noticed I had smeared mascara under my eyes and looked terrible in my old jeans.

I got my bags and waited for my aunt Lori to pick me up from the airport. I was so happy to have met that man. He helped me realize he’s the type of man I need to date. He’s smart, driven, funny, thoughtful, reflective, and a good conversationalist. I was happy I didn’t take that other flight option for a $400 credit or I wouldn’t have met him. I stood there with a smile on my face, thinking about our conversations. Then I realized…I never asked his name!

I couldn’t believe it. In all that time, I never asked for his name and he never told me. I also had no way of ever contacting him. It would be up to him to contact me if ever wanted to talk to me again. I hated the fact that it would be up to him. However, my therapist helped me realize that I need a guy who is willing to put in effort. Someone who pursues me. It’s difficult for me to sit back and wait, but I’ve realized if a man isn’t strong enough to ask me out, he’s not the man for me. I wasn’t expecting this man to ask me out, he has a girlfriend. But if he finds himself single and interested, he’ll need to be the one to ask me out.

It’s been almost five months since I met window man and I haven’t received an email.  If it’s meant to be, it will be.

Post Edited by: Mandy Strider
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Day 63: Brewery Tour and Tinder

I needed to get out of my funk so I booked a brewery tour in the afternoon. I met the group at the log cabin visitor’s center in downtown Anchorage. I was surprised by how small and short the buildings were in the downtown area.

Our tour guide, Roberta, appeared to be in her 30s, had shoulder-length, red hair and was spunky in her jeans and tennis shoes. She asked me and a couple to hop inside the van so we could head to our first brewery. Roberta told us that there was a family of five who also signed up, but their flight was delayed and they were going to meet us at the first brewery.

Once we boarded the van, Roberta told us how she grew up in a small town just north of Anchorage and when she was 16 years old, she couldn’t wait to move away. During college, she lived in Wisconsin and then Washington. She noticed she kept moving her school schedule around so she could spend more time in Alaska, so she ended up moving back 15 years ago. She said, “Alaska is a hard life and you need to choose it. It’s different living here when you choose it.”

The couple who was sitting across from me in the van looked to be in their mid to late 30s. They were gorgeous, fit, and looked like they were heading to an expensive ski resort with their scarves and nice boots. The guy, Richard, had a reddish beard and his girlfriend had long, beautifully curled blonde hair. It turns out he grew up in Canon City, Colorado, where I lived for three years growing up. He was a year younger than me so we didn’t remember each other, but we must have seen each other (it’s a small town). After living on the east coast for 15 years, he now lives in Fort Collins, Colorado.

On the drive to the brewery, Roberta told us about the relationship Alaska has with alcohol. There are many small towns that have limits or ban alcohol because people were too drunk all the time. She explained that the reason bartenders often ask to see your driver’s license is because they are looking for the “red stripe,” which means you are only allowed to buy alcohol at bars, not at a store, where it is limited. Drunk drivers usually get the red stripe on their license.

Roberta told us that Alaskans drink more beer per capita than anywhere else in North America. I wanted to see if this was true, so I Googled it afterwards. According to this Thrillist article, Alaska is the third booziest state in the United States. However, this article from Anchorage Daily News shows that Alaska is the number one state for the cost of alcohol abuse. I mean, it’s ridiculously cold up there, so what else are people supposed to do?

Roberta also explained that most of the breweries there are local beer and are only sold in Alaska because it’s too expensive to ship it outside of the state. But they don’t have a problem consuming all of it in Alaska.

We arrived at the first brewery and met the family of five who just flew in from Denver, Colorado. The three children appeared to be in their 20s. We were all taken to the back where they brew the beer. We stood there listening to the brewing process for what seemed like an eternity, only getting small samplings of four different beers. Maybe it’s because I have done brewery tours before, but I was getting bored with all of the information and just wanted to drink some beer.

We all boarded the van and headed to the next brewery. When we first arrived, a woman who worked there gave a five-minute, behind-the-scenes tour and let us pour beer from a plastic fish on the wall. She quickly led us upstairs for the tastings. We sat around a table with some cheese and meat appetizers while we tried large samples of beers. These beers were very strong and we were all starting to feel it.

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The brewery had a system where people could buy a beer for someone, write their name on a piece of paper, and hang it on a metal board. If you had the name on a piece of paper (and could show ID) the beer is yours. I perused the board and saw a variety of names: a realtor who bought a beer for his clients; if your name is Ben and graduated from MIT; if you have passed level 1 and level 2 of TOGAF certification. I thought it was a really cool concept. Some were specific people, others were generic and just paying it forward. Sadly, I didn’t find one waiting for me.

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We boarded the van again to head to our third and final brewery. This time we were able to sit at a table, try different beers, and chat. The owner sat at the end of the table near me and told us a little bit about how she and her husband started the brewery two years ago. She appeared to be in her 50s and had a stern look about her. She was a former lawyer and her husband was a scientist/engineer. He was always brewing beer, so they decided to try out the brewery business. She said this is a lot more fun than practicing law, but not as lucrative.

Across the table from me was the mother in the family of five. It turns out she’s a lawyer and sues the government for discrimination. Her family was taking an Alaskan cruise out of Seward, but they wanted to check out Anchorage for a day first. After the cruise, they were going to spend a couple days in Vancouver so I gave her a lot of tips. We had a really enjoyable conversation and she was incredibly sweet. She offered me a place to stay if I’m in Denver and I appreciated her hospitality.

I was mad at myself for originally not thinking so highly of the family of five. My first impression was unflattering and judgmental. When I first saw that family, I think they reminded me of parts of myself that I’ve tried so hard to change. I’m always working out trying to lose weight and I’m still self conscience about my uncool clothes at times. We’re often the most critical of those that resemble the parts of ourselves that we don’t like. I think we all stereotype people and it’s up to us to check ourselves and change the mindset.

The brewery tour finished and I drove to Moose’s Tooth, a famous pizza place. There was a 65-minute wait for a table, but one seat available at the bar. The pizza was really good and I took some home for the next day. I went back to my Airbnb and watched a movie on my Ipad mini.

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Cody, the guy who had told me about a local volleyball game the day before, but hadn’t actually asked me to go to it, messaged and asked if I wanted to meet him at a bar. They had a reggae band playing and it was a Saturday night.

I wasn’t tired so I figured, why not? I didn’t arrive to the bar until close to 1:00 am and he was sitting at the bar with a bright red t-shirt. Cody was 29, had a semi-long, brown/reddish beard, was thin, and his long hair was pulled back underneath his ski hat.

I wasn’t really nervous meeting him because I wasn’t that interested in him, but figured it would be fun to see some nightlife in Anchorage. Cody was pleasant and talked a lot. He told me about five jobs he works, concerts he’s been to, and hiking. He’s from Anchorage and has traveled a little bit in the United States.

Cody told me that he spent a month in Toronto with a girlfriend, but got sick of her so he made up an excuse that he needed to see a concert. He drove from Toronto to Alaska in a few days and left her in Toronto. Great, another liar. I found myself being less and less interested.

The bar closed at 2:00 am and he asked if I wanted to get another drink at a bar down the street that was open until 3:00 am. We just started walking and ended up going inside the small dive bar. He had no problem with me paying for my drinks. In fact, he never even offered to pay. I don’t mind paying for myself, especially if I don’t like the guy. I never like to feel like I owe someone something. However, it is a nice gesture when a guy pays, or at the very least offers.

The bar closed at 3:00 am and we walked down the street towards our cars. Standing at the corner, I pointed towards my car and stopped walking. After talking for another few minutes, Cody said, “It’s really cold outside. Maybe you could drive me to my car so we can still talk for a bit without freezing?” We didn’t have jackets and it was pretty cold. I didn’t want Cody inside my car because I was afraid he’d try to kiss me. I replied, “I have a lot of stuff in my car.” He laughed and said, “Yeah, that happens to me too. I just move it all to the back seat.” I didn’t really respond to that and shortly after said I needed to get going.

Once I got back to my Airbnb, Cody continued to message me saying we were only two miles away from each other (Tinder shows distance). Surprised he didn’t get the hint that I wasn’t interested, I tried to politely not respond too much.

I reflected on Cody as I laid in bed. The good thing about meeting different guys is that it’s helping me determine what I want and what I don’t want in a relationship. Cody was immature, scrambled to get by, and wasn’t very smart. All of those were turn-offs to me and it was a good lesson. I was also proud that I didn’t force myself to like him as I probably would have done in the past. I was happy that I seemed to have learned that being alone is better than being with the wrong person.

Post Edited By: Mandy Strider
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Day 35 – History of Seattle and Getting a Kiss

It was my last day in Seattle and I wanted to learn a little more about the city so I signed up for an underground tour. Meeting in downtown Seattle, the tour began in a basement of a skyrise. It was dark and had a setup like what you’d see during Halloween.

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The tour had about 15 people and as we sat in dark pews, the tour guide started by giving us the rundown of what the next 90 minutes would look like. We began by going around the corner and seeing the old store fronts.

Seattle was originally a logging town and port city, but really started to boom when they realized they could take advantage of people flocking to Canada and Alaska in search of gold. Seattle became a place where people (mostly men) could rest, buy supplies, and eat.

Being mostly men coming through the city, Seattle developed a seedy underground full of booze and prostitutes. The police and government officials overlooked all of this as long as these establishments paid their “tax” – which was basically a bribe. This went on for about 100 years until the 1970s when the FBI did an investigation and put a stop to all of it.

The shoreline of Seattle used to be giant cliffs overlooking the ocean, so people couldn’t build many houses there. The city center was near the port on soft ground and the tide changed dramatically at the end of the day. The tide would literally come into the little town, wash things away, and flood it.

The roads were made of a mixture of sawdust and dirt (remember, it was a logging town) and when the horse and carriages would come through the city, they’d poop on the street. The tide water became a combination of many things, including horse poop. There were some sections that had a consistency of oatmeal, and were like quick-sand causing people would drown. People literally risked their life to walk down the street.

In 1889, the city had a massive fire (miraculously, nobody died) and it cleared out thousands of rodents that carried diseases. It gave the city the chance to rebuild in brick and stone, and fix the tide issue. They decided all new streets would be graded one to two stories higher than the original streets. During this construction, the streets were built first and the sidewalks later. Merchants stayed open during construction and used ladders for people to climb down to their store until the sidewalks were complete. Lots of people actually died falling off of these ladders.

Once the sidewalks were complete, the storefronts were moved to the 2nd story, and the first story now became the basement, and the underground was born. Buildings were not connected to each other underground, but it gave way to the seedy happenings in the city. They installed makeshift “skylights” using little glass tiles so light came through. You can still see the mosaic titles on the sidewalks in Pioneer Square.

In 1907, the city condemned the underground because of bubonic plague carried by rats. After years of most of the underground being abandoned, they restored a few sections and started giving tours. In 1965, Bill Speidel starting giving tours and still operates today (which is the tour I took).

The city also spent time regrading the other parts of Seattle and demolishing the cliffs so houses and roads could be built. They used high-pressure water hoses to make the cliffs more like steep hills.

The tour was fascinating and I was able to see a few underground sections, including the Comedy Underground club, where comedians perform. Learning the history helped me to understand why the streets were so crappy and full of potholes – they sink 1/8th of an inch every year because underneath them it’s still sawdust and dirt.

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After the tour, I walked around downtown a bit and messaged a guy I had been talking to on Tinder, Jerry. I told him that it was my last night in Seattle (wanted to be clear I don’t live there as to not repeat the previous date I had when I first arrived to Seattle) and I was told I need to try the oysters. I asked if he wanted to go and he said he did and would pick me up.

I took an Uber back to my Airbnb to change into pants and freshen up. I thought it was nice he offered to pick me up. Most guys say they’ll meet you somewhere so this felt promising. Jerry arrived and I got into his car. He was about 5’11” – 6’ tall, with blonde/reddish hair, and was on the thinner side but fit. The wrinkles on his face made him look older than 32.

We decided on a place in downtown and Jerry had to parallel park. Backing into the space up a steep hill, he was nervous he’d mess up since I was watching. It actually felt nice for someone else to be nervous.

Jerry hadn’t eaten oysters in about 10 years so we didn’t know which ones to order. I said, “I’ll ask the waiter for help.” Jerry responded, “I’m usually embarrassed to ask and show I don’t know.” I explained, “Yeah, but my take on it is this. You ask and are embarrassed once. Then you know how to do it going forward and don’t have to worry about it again.” He smiled and said, “That’s true.”

We ate the oysters but agreed we don’t care for them very much. While eating, I learned a little more about Jerry. He has his master’s degree, was in the peace corps for two years, and is a project engineer for a nonprofit in Sierra Leone. He spent two years in Sierra Leone but told his company he can’t keep living there. They compromised and said he can do three months there and then three months in Seattle, as a rotation.

After oysters, Jerry asked if I wanted to walk around so we did. Lots of people were walking the streets as a parade had just finished. We walked for close to an hour and I noticed my hand kept hitting his. I thought my purse that was crossed over my shoulder must be bumping my hand into his hand. At one point, I quietly said, “Sorry”. But then I noticed Jerry kept looking at my hand. I thought, “Wait, is he trying to hold my hand. Crap. What do I do now??”

My problem is that I get very nervous at the anticipation of meeting someone, or holding hands, or kissing. It had been 2-1/2 years since I separated from my ex-husband after being married for 9 years. I hadn’t held hands or kissed anyone since my ex. Part of me just wanted to get it out of the way because otherwise, the more time that passed, the more anxious I became about it. It felt like a “build-up” and I would start to feel sick to my stomach.

Jerry and I arrived at a bar and he bought me a beer. Sitting close to me at the bar, Jerry became more flirtatious. Right after we finished our beers, the bartender asked if we wanted another one. As I was about to say yes, Jerry said no. Then he turned towards me and said, “If we’re going to have another beer, I shouldn’t drive so we should go to a bar close to my house. I can park in between my place and your place and walk you home after the bar and then I can walk home.” He lived about half a mile from where I was staying so it made sense.

As we left the bar and walked to Jerry’s car, he held my hand. It felt really nice to hold someone’s hand – it was sweet and genuine. Once Jerry parked near his house, we walked towards the bar and he continued to hold my hand.

We arrived at the bar, but it was closed. Jerry said he knew of another one nearby, but it was a dive bar. I was fine with that so we headed there. He bought us some beer and we sat across from each other at a small table near the pool table. I was holding my glass with my left hand and I noticed he kept looking down at my hand. So I grabbed my glass with my right hand and let go of the glass with my left hand. Jerry grabbed my left hand and held it. Then held it with both of his hands. I’ve never had a guy hold my hand across the table before and it was sweet.

We had a good conversation and it felt like Jerry was a good guy. When I felt he was going to kiss me, I got nervous and continued talking like a crazy person. Finally, we kissed! It was sweet and instantly I didn’t feel so nervous. It’s the lead-up that makes me feel sick. I hadn’t held hands or kissed someone in so long, I forgot how nice it was to have human touch. We are designed to have human touch – it’s one of the five love languages. I never realized how much I missed it until I didn’t have it for so long.

Jerry thanked me for asking him to get oysters and I thanked him for going with me. I knew I’d likely never see him again, but I was ok with that. He had spent a lot of time in Sierra Leone and I think he was in the same boat – we needed to connect with someone, even if it was just temporary.

Post Edited by: Misty Kosek

Days 28 – 29: A Date in Seattle, WA

I took the ferry from Whidbey Island to Seattle. I love taking ferries. It’s fun to drive your car on, go to the cafe, get a coffee, and wander outside to check out the views. This ferry ride was just about 40 minutes which was long enough to enjoy the sun reflecting off the water and watch the islands in the background.

It was very windy at the front of the ferry where I stood and there were just a couple of us braving it outside. My hair was flying all around so I tied it back with a hair tie. I had a death grip around my phone when I took pictures and two little girls with their dad were laughing as they tried to take a step against the wind.

I arrived to the Airbnb just after 5:00 pm. My room was a converted garage at the back of the house. Following the instructions from Airbnb hosts is always like being a spy who has been given covert instructions to break in to a place.

The street was incredibly steep so when I opened my trunk, my suitcase started to fall out. I opened the gate to the tall wooden fence and there was a small sidewalk leading to the backyard just to the right of the house. Per the instructions, I followed the narrow path to the backyard and opened another small metal gate.

The garage was across the brick patio and I opened the door. The first thing I saw was a washer and dryer on one side of the room. In front of me, I saw that the owner’s had hung a sheet to hide all the items stored in the garage, and on the left side of the room was a step up to another door that led to my  room.

This door had a glass window on the top half with just a sheer cover, which didn’t leave a lot of room for privacy.

I opened the little lock box next to my bedroom door using the code provided. The key was inside and I used that to open the door to my room.

The room had a bed, desk, a coffee maker that sat atop the dresser, a microwave, and some plates and cups. There was also a small refrigerator and a portable AC unit. The bathroom was very small – like European small.

There was a skylight above the bed with a white/sheer covering. It was nice during the day, as it let in the sunlight – the only other windows were two small rectangular ones at the top of the wall. This skylight became annoying in the morning, as the sun shone on my face and I’d find myself turning to avoid it, then within minutes the sun would follow me and I’d have to move again.

I was glad to have my own space. After checking in, I went to a nearby salon and got my nails done in preparation for a date I had the following day. After that, I picked up some groceries (sandwich, salad, crackers) and relaxed.

I wrote the next morning and later went to the Ballard Locks. This was one of the recommendations made by my previous Airbnb host. The lake meets the ocean but they are very different depths. The lake is much higher than the ocean water so there are several locks that boats go inside, the water either drains or raises depending on which direction the boats are going, and then the boats continue on. The locks create the same water level so they can pass through. It was interesting to watch the boats all pile up and wait for the water level to change.

The salmon also use the locks to travel. They are born in the freshwater lake and once they’re mature they swim to the ocean where they live for about five years. At the end of their lives, they find their way back to the lake, where they lay their eggs before they die.

There are windows below the locks where people can watch the salmon coming and going. It was mid-July so there weren’t that many going back to the lake but it was amazing to see. The locks help them so they don’t have to jump so far upstream to get to the lake.

After seeing the locks, I went back to my Airbnb, ate dinner, and got ready for my date. I connected with a guy from Coffee Meets Bagel the week before and he asked if I wanted to go over for a bonfire and yard games. I love both of those so I said yes. Then he mentioned that he was a craft cider connoisseur and “maybe he’d break open a bottle”. I love ciders so this sounded like a nice time.

He was 39 years old, just a year older than me. His name was Aaron. Yes, the same name as my ex-husband. I wondered, If we were to date, how would I refer to them? New Aaron and old Aaron?

Aaron ended up messaging me saying he was running behind and asked if I could come a little later, around 9:20 pm. He said he’d give me a big hug when he saw me if I accommodated his request. It didn’t get dark until around 9:00 pm so I said sure.

He asked where I was coming from and I told him I was by the zoo. He grew up in that neighborhood but now lived about 15 minutes away. He said, “You’re not too far away”. I thought, Not too far away? In LA standards, this would be considered down the street.

I was nervous for several reasons.  1) There’s always the fear that once someone meets me in person they won’t actually be attracted to me. It’s difficult to tell just through pictures. 2) He seemed excited about what neighborhood I was coming from and I was worried he didn’t realize I didn’t actually live there. I thought my profile was clear that I was just traveling but maybe it wasn’t.

I parked on the street but it was hard to find his house in the dark. I messaged him and he said he was in the backyard and had just started the fire. He came around to the side and peaked his head over the tall wooden fence so I could find him.

When he opened the gate, he seemed a little surprised. Not a bad surprised, but a surprised like how people look at me when they see how tall I am – 6’1”. My height is listed on my profile, but people still seem surprised.

He looked like his pictures but a little older. He was about my height, maybe slightly taller, with light brown hair. He had a button up casual shirt on and looked responsible. I wasn’t super attracted, but he was okay.

Aaron did not give me that hug he promised and it felt a little awkward. I’m sure I was giving off a weird vibe because all I could think about was, what if he thinks I live here? It’s going to be very awkward.

As soon as we started walking to the backyard, he said, “So how long have you been in Woodland Park?”

“One day.”

“Wow!! Really?”

“Yeah, I just got to Seattle. I’m traveling…”

“Oh…”

There it was. Awkward. We got to the fire pit in his huge backyard. There were several lawn chairs around it, but only two that were the nice padded ones. I sat in one of them and then he sat in the other padded one. We weren’t seated next to each other, as there was a folding chair between us.

I was very uncomfortable because I felt like he thought I had tricked him into thinking I lived there. Though I thought I had made it clear. We ended up talking for a couple of hours and it was all friendly. But there were no yard games and no cider bottles were broken.

He asked me what my plan was and I said “I’m not sure.” I was pretty vague because I felt awkward being there – like I disappointed him because I didn’t live there.

I think we both realized it wasn’t going to work but there was a fire started so we might as well make the most of it. He kept putting more wood on the fire so I figured he must be ok that I was there. We talked about his job with the city (he’s a software developer) and the housing market in Seattle. The houses in his neighborhood have tripled in value in the last five years. It’s about as bad as LA.

I was a little bummed because his profile said things like:

• He likes to “question the norm as much as possible. Humans were given the ability to think outside the box”.

• He likes to “debate life’s mysteries”.

I was hoping that he’d be open to an unconventional situation – like me traveling. But it turned out that he was pretty conventional after all.

After a couple of hours, he started to let the fire die down. Then we stood up and talked some more. I told him that although I joke that I retired at 38, I actually planned on finishing a book I was writing and make a documentary after that. He seemed more interested in me after I told him this. Then I realized he didn’t know much about me and at the beginning of our conversation that night, I probably looked very flighty saying I didn’t know where I was going or what I was doing. Lesson learned. I need to remember that people just meeting me don’t know I’m actually very responsible and I do have plans. But I suppose I look pretty flighty to someone just meeting me.

Aaron walked me to the gate and then he kept talking. He gave me tips of things to see in the city and told me (multiple times) to text him if I had any questions or couldn’t remember any of the tips.

We said goodbye and I left. No hug, just a “Goodbye”. I was disappointed because I realized it was going to be very hard trying to date while traveling. I had been hopeful that maybe I’d meet someone on my travels and somehow, we’d make it work. I guess I’m still naive – although I like to call it being a hopeless romantic. But either way, the dating world just a lot harder.

Post edited by: Trisha Harmon