Day 175: Leaving Whistler with a Bang!

After spending six weeks in Whistler, it was time to leave. As I packed, I reflected on my time there and all the things I did:

  • I wrote a lot, oftentimes sitting in a reading nook, peering out the window. A few times, I was able to watch the snow fall.

I settled in, bought groceries and cooked. I even joined a gym while I was there.

  • I watched fall transition to winter, and enjoyed taking in all of the changes during walks in the forest and around town.

I took the bus to town and got to know some locals. I even took advantage of locals’ only discounts!

  • I cleared more than eight inches of snow off my car a few times, drove in the snow, and scraped ice off my gas tank so I could add gas.
  • I met a few guys. Each one helped me learn what I want and don’t want in a relationship.
  • I sat at bars alone, often times listening to live music. Sometimes I felt lonely, but I made myself get out and about anyway.
  • I attended a wine festival and a film festival.
  • I went snowshoeing and snowmobiling.

I did a beer tour tour, a nightclub crawl, and went to a vodka freezer.

  • I went to game nights, pub trivia, and bar bingo.
  • I made several new friends.

I very much enjoyed my time in Whistler and could see myself living there someday. I don’t get that vibe often with places. I don’t know where I’ll end up living, but Whistler is on my list of possibilities.

Before I left Whistler, I wanted to give a letter to Josh, who I had met right after Thanksgiving. When I dropped Josh off after spending 16 hours together, I didn’t know his last name or phone number and I had hoped he would reach out to me. I was 99% sure I’d never hear from him, which made me bummed. I wrote him a letter telling him how I felt because I’m tired of living life afraid – afraid to be me, afraid of rejection, and afraid of being vulnerable. I knew he worked at a fine dining Italian restaurant, but I couldn’t remember which one so I held onto the letter until I could figure it out. Before I left town, I planned on walking into his restaurant, handing him the letter, and walking out.

When I got sushi with my new friend Brittany, she connected me to a Whistler Facebook group. I found Josh on the group and felt relieved that I at least knew his last name and had a way of contacting him. One night at bar bingo, my new friend Saya convinced me to send Josh a message on Facebook. I thought I had seen him at the bar, but the guy disappeared. After a few drinks, I decided it was a good idea.

Of course, my message was lame (what did you expect?) and I said, “Are you around?” This was after not seeing or talking to him for two weeks. I had become accustomed to guys either not responding, responding very late, or responding in a disrespectful way after online dating. I was pleasantly surprised when he wrote back within 15 minutes. We conversed about the weather and how the snow was great. He said now that it was snowing, he was waking up very early every morning to ski. He told me which restaurant he worked at, so I was happy that I could give him my letter.

It was my last day in Whistler and after snowmobiling, I showered, ate dinner, and prepared to leave my Airbnb to surprise Josh with the letter. I was extremely nervous.

“He will probably think I’m a weirdo.”

“What if I become the laughing stock of his friends?”

My friends back home all thought I was crazy. Their response was always the same – if he was interested in you, he would have contacted you. He just wanted to have a fun night and you’ll never hear from him again. That’s how men are. I could hear the tone in their messages as they told me I’m such a hopeless romantic and that this likely would end with a broken heart. I didn’t care.

I knew logically they made sense. It was likely that he never wanted to know me past the night we met. But my instinct kept telling me that he was different. He wasn’t a jerk, he was actually a caring individual. I spent many hours getting to know him, and he didn’t act like other guys. He was tender, he was real, and he had a good heart. I didn’t blame him for not contacting me. It was a strange situation. I was traveling and was only there temporarily. Nobody wants to do long distance, so I didn’t blame him for that. I just needed him to know that I cared and that our time meant something to me, even if that meant I’d be rejected.

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I had a few shots of vodka in preparation for going to the restaurant where he worked. I arrived around 10:20 pm and couldn’t get myself to walk inside. It’s a fine dining restaurant. It’s not like I could just walk in and find him in a sea of people enjoying their fancy meals. I also didn’t want to ask for him because then his coworkers would all wonder what was going on.

I saw a second door that led to a hotel that was connected and went through it. I used the restroom, trying to convince myself that I had the strength and the nerve. People always tell me I’m the bravest person they know – I can assure you that does not apply to the romance department.

Sweating, I managed to get myself into the side door that was by the bar. There was not a single person at the bar, so I asked the bartender if the bar was open. He said it was and got me a menu. The section to my left was crowded with tables full of people enjoying dinner. Behind me, there were lounge tables and some dinner tables, but they were mostly empty.

The bartenders were all from France and were so friendly that it helped to calm my nerves. That, or the vodka was settling in. I ordered a drink and texted my friends. Kristina, who was from Germany, came down within 15 minutes and sat with me at the bar. I slowly turned around, looking to see if I could find Josh. I didn’t know if he was working that night, but it was my last shot.

Kristina and I talked all about her life in Germany. She told me about how she thought Canada would be a lot like the U.K., but she found that is not at all the case. She described German people as being very straight forward, but in Canada, they consider it rude. I told her it’s because Canadians are known for being very nice.

I was enjoying Kristina’s company. At some point, I thought I saw the back of Josh walk by me twice. He was headed the other direction so he only saw my back. I was also trying to cover my face with my hair. I told Kristina about my letter and my dilemma.

At just past 11:00 pm, two servers who were running the bar after the bartenders left said they needed to close out our tabs. I panicked and told Kirstina to stall. We slowly paid and I messaged Josh, asking him to come to the bar. He wasn’t responding and after a few minutes, our bill was closed.

Kristina, being a straight-forward German, asked the servers, “Is Josh here?” The girls looked at each other and one said, “I think he just left.” The other chimed in, “Yeah, he was helping a large party and once they were done, he went home. He just left.” Kristina immediately said, “Can we give you something to give to him?”

Panicked, I said, “No, it’s ok.” The sweet servers enthusiastically said, “Yeah! We can give him something.” Kristina tried to grab the letter from my hand and I tried to shove it back into my purse as I quietly told her, “It’s fine. I’ll message him.” The servers, trying to be helpful, said, “We can tell you his schedule tomorrow.” I assured them it was fine and that I’d message him.

Kristina and I walked outside and met our friends Saya and Misato from Japan, who had just arrived after getting off of work. We brainstormed as to what I should do. I wanted to just run away. Kristina reminded me that I wanted to tell him how I felt and I came there to give him the letter, so I should do it. She told me I could give the letter to her and she’d go back the next day and give it him. I gave her the letter and we all decided to go have a drink at Brickworks bar.

They all thought the idea of writing a letter and giving it to Josh was romantic and they gave an “awe…”. I explained to them what my brother used to say many years ago, “If the person likes you back, they’re flattered. If they don’t like you back, it’s stalking.” I think he’s right. I had no idea if Josh would consider this romantic or consider me a stalker.

As we sat at Brickworks, Josh messaged me back and said he was in bed after skiing and working all day. I told him it was my last night in Whistler and there was something I wanted to give him. He said he would come back out, but he was too exhausted. He asked when I was leaving the following day and said he could meet me to say goodbye.

I was happy that he offered to meet me. I told him once I checked out of my Airbnb, I was going to the holiday market at one of the hotels, and then I needed to head south by around 2:00 pm. He said he’d keep me posted because he would be skiing early in the day and then had to work that evening, but he thought he’d have some time to meet me in the village to say goodbye.

My new friends and I had a great time talking over some wine. I played some classic American songs on the jukebox and we talked about relationships, what it was like in their home countries, and how much fun we’d had together. They are amazing people with warm hearts, and they were so encouraging. I felt lucky to have met them and figured I’d go visit their countries once they were back there. They walked me to the bus station and we hugged goodbye.

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The next day, I checked out of my Airbnb and drove to the winter market at the hotel. Misato met me there and we looked around at the locally made items. It was much smaller than we anticipated, so we walked through the village. Misato hadn’t been in Whistler very long and was working a lot, so she didn’t have a lot of time to shop around yet. It was a great time because we got to know each other better now that it wasn’t in a loud bar or while we were playing a board game.

Josh messaged me at 1:00 pm saying he was about to do his last run and he’d be done by 2:00 pm. Then at 2:00 pm, he was done and asked where to meet me. Misato and I had just finished shopping and were by the Pangea Pod hotel, which is a hostel. They have a nice restaurant on the second floor overlooking the village. We went inside and I told Josh to meet me there.

When we walked inside, Brittany, my friend from the beer tours, was there to get people to sign up for the tours. It was perfect because I hadn’t gotten a chance to say goodbye to her. We talked for a bit and then Misato and I went to the bar to order some coffee while Brittany was at her table with promotional material. I was incredibly nervous and this time didn’t have alcohol to help give me courage.

As I was looking at the menu, Josh tapped me on my left shoulder. I turned around and he had a big smile on his face. I was awkward of course and messed up giving him a hug. He was in his ski gear, took off his jacket, and sat down. I was pleasantly surprised because I wondered if he’d just message me saying he was downstairs and ask me to come outside to give him whatever I had to give him. Or maybe he’d come upstairs, but quickly leave.

I introduced him to Misato and she ordered coffee, talking with the bartender. I was turned towards Josh, talking. We talked about the ski conditions and how amazing the snow had been the last two weeks. Within about ten minutes, Misato had to go to work so she hugged me goodbye. Ten minutes later, Brittany came over and hugged me goodbye because she had to leave.

I continued to talk to Josh over the next hour. I kept thinking he was probably about to leave at any moment. After 40 minutes, the bartender asked if I wanted to order anything (I never ordered my coffee) and I said no because I thought Josh was about to leave. To my surprise, he ordered an espresso.

We continued to talk and I told him about my snowshoeing and snowmobiling experiences. As he told me about skiing, he was enthusiastic and never made me feel awkward. I enjoyed talking with him and it was reassuring that we could still have great conservations, even without any alcohol. It reminded me why I liked him in the first place. He was so easy to talk to and I was attracted to him.

After an hour, Josh said he needed to go because he had to change for work. I told him I needed to get headed south to make it to Mount Vernon, Washington that evening to stay the night with a friend. We put on our coats, walked down the stairs, and went outside. He gave me directions on how to get back to my car and then he gave me a hug.

As we hugged, I reached into my purse to grab the letter. I had printed it at the library and put it in an envelope. I was terrified about how he’d react, but he came out to say goodbye and I was reminded that I like him. I could also run away right after I gave it to him.

At the end of the hug, I pulled the folded envelope out of my purse and said, “Just don’t make fun of me.” Josh looked down, took the letter, and looked up with a huge smile on his face. He immediately gave me another hug. I felt relieved that he didn’t make me feel like a weirdo. We said goodbye and went our separate ways.

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I drove to Washington feeling amazing. I had conquered a tremendous fear. I let myself be vulnerable, even if it meant embarrassing myself. I trusted my instincts and they were right. Josh wasn’t a jerk and he didn’t make me feel like it was a pity goodbye. He seemed happy and being able to see and talk with him again confirmed what I believed about him.

I know I can’t control the future. I can’t make someone like me. I am a hopeless romantic and I desperately want life to be like the great books and movies where big gestures happen and anything is possible. They say that you should “be the change you want to see.” Well, I want to see people letting themselves be vulnerable. I want to see people taking risks in life. I want to see people express themselves to those they care about. So, I decided to start with me. I can’t expect someone else to treat me that way if I’m not willing to do the same.

I knew I probably wouldn’t hear from Josh for at least a few days. I was feeling happy and content that I was able to say goodbye in person and give him the letter.  Now it was in his hands.

Post Edited By: Mandy Strider
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Day 154: A Night to Remember

It was the Saturday after U.S. Thanksgiving and the insanely loud noise from the flooring construction in the unit above started promptly at 9:00 am. I went to bed late and didn’t want to leave the warmth and coziness of the blankets. I fell in and out of sleep over the next few hours, having crazy dreams.

Around 4:30 pm, I took the bus to the holiday market at the conference center. It was so much fun listening to Christmas carols, buying some locally made items and food, and settling in to the Christmas spirit.

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After spending a couple of hours there, I walked around the village and perused a bookstore. I needed to use the restroom so I popped into a hotel. When I came out, I saw the Whistler nightclub crawl was getting ready to start in the lounge area. The leaders, Brittany and JD, were training a new girl and getting all of the name tags ready. They had 90 people attending the crawl that night – Yikes!

It was good chatting with them for a bit and Brittany and I agreed to get sushi sometime. She recommended that I get a cocktail at 21 Steps Kitchen and Bar. I trusted her recommendation, so I walked over to the restaurant/bar. It was around 7:45 pm and people were waiting for tables at the higher-end restaurant. I was seated at the bar and there was only one other seat available, which was to my left.

I ordered a drink and then a salad. I was fascinated by the bartender’s ability to make specialty cocktails, wines, and beers at light speed. I was close to the end of the bar, so I watched as he zipped through cocktail after cocktail, lining them up for the servers to take to tables.

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I felt a little bummed as I looked around at the tables filling up with couples and groups of friends. The bar sat about eight to ten people and I was the only one sitting next to an empty chair.

As I was halfway through my salad, a guy took off his coat and sat next to me at the bar. I couldn’t see him very well since he was directly next to me in my peripheral vision, but he appeared to be young and was wearing a baseball hat. He ordered a beer and I thought, “Are you even old enough to drink?”

He knew the bartender and the manager, and they chatted about the ski conditions. I finished my salad and the bartender asked me if I wanted to order dinner. I said, “That was my dinner.” I ordered another cocktail as the guy next to me ordered appetizers. Through the bar, I could see the cooks motioning to the guy next to me. Finally, one of the cooks came to the bar and they chatted for a bit about mountain biking. I figured this guy must be older than I thought since he knows all of these employees who appear to be in their 30s. I overheard them say his name: Josh.

As Josh was eating his first appetizer, I turned towards him and asked, “How do you know all of these people?” He told me he’s from Australia, but he’s been in Whistler for eight years. When Josh came to Whistler on a work visa, he first managed a bar because that was his experience in Australia. However, he quickly realized he could make more money by being a server so he stepped down. During his time in Whistler, he’s worked at several different restaurants and has worked with these guys at various places. He was currently working at a fine-dining Italian restaurant.

Surprised to hear that Josh had been in Whistler for eight years, I figured he must be in his late 20s. We continued to talk and I told him I was staying in Whistler for a month writing. I turned towards him a bit so I could see him better as he ate his appetizers. His blonde hair stuck out from the bottom and sides of his baseball hat. He had blue eyes, no facial hair, was thin, and appeared to be around 5’9”-5’10”. On his left arm, I could see a tattoo sticking out from the slightly rolled up sleeve on his checkered button-up shirt. He was cute.

After I told Josh about writing my book and blogging about driving to Alaska, he told me he wants to ski all 50 mountain peaks that are in the western US and Canada, all in one winter. He asked me how he’d go about doing that – could he write or blog about it? I told him about my blog and Instagram.

Josh finished eating and we both kept ordering drinks – although he switched from beer to a gin and tonic. We both turned towards each other as we talked. Josh has traveled to more than 35 countries, including the western US, Europe, Africa, and the Middle East. His favorite city was Portland until he went to Amsterdam.

Josh told me that in 2010, he was heading to Banff from Vancouver and he drove through Whistler. He saw a snowboard for sale that had a design from his favorite artist, who was from Whistler. When he tried to purchase it, he was told it would take two weeks to make. While he waited, he found a job and a place to live and has been there ever since.

Josh spends his time skiing, snowboarding, working, and recently got into mountain biking. He described Whistler as getting busier in the shoulder seasons, but he’s still able to take off about four months a year to travel. When he hit 31, his work visa expired and he applied for permanent residency. He is now 33 years old and a permanent resident.

Josh and I had a similar sense of humor and view on life. I was happy to have the company so I kept ordering drinks. The cook came over and asked Josh if he wanted a dessert and Josh chose the cheesecake. He told me, “You’re going to have to help me eat that.” When the cheesecake arrived with one spoon, Josh quickly asked them for another spoon. We shared dessert and it was starting to feel like I was on a date. I am drawn to free spirits who have opinions about the world and there was never a lull in our conversation. Customers had to pass by the bar on their way in and out of the restaurant and as it emptied out, I didn’t even notice. That’s when I knew I was starting to like this guy. The rest of the world seemed to disappeared.

Josh and I talked about border crossings and how he is afraid going into the US and I get afraid going into Canada. He told me how he drove to Alaska, almost to Fairbanks, and stayed with a friend in Anchorage for a month. On his way back down south, he stopped in Dawson City and told me how the town is like an old west town with saloons. He drank the famous drink they serve with a toe inside the glass. Your mouth has to touch the toe, which is disgusting. I had heard about that place on my travels to Alaska so it felt good to talk to someone who knew about it as well.

After the two guys next to Josh left, a single guy sat down. At one point, he interrupted so he could comment and said, “Sorry, I’ve been eavesdropping.” It turned out Josh knew him too.

At 11:15 pm, they asked if we wanted one more drink since they were closing at 11:30 pm. Josh told his friend, the cook, “If I have another one, I won’t be able to go mountain biking tomorrow.” I was happy when he ordered another drink, so I did too. At 11:45 pm, we were almost the last people there and they were closing up. We walked out together and he made a comment about going to Brickworks, a bar. The guy who had been eavesdropping was with us too, so as I walked with them, I asked, “Is it ok that I’m coming too?” Josh replied, “Yes, of course.” Then he shook my hand and said, “I’m Josh by the way.” We laughed as I introduced myself as well, realizing we hadn’t technically gotten eachother’s names.

We arrived at Brickworks and it wasn’t very crowded. After taking bathroom breaks, we sat at the bar with Josh to my right. The other guy was down the bar a bit. The bartender let me sample a couple of beers and I picked one. As I was talking to the bartender, Josh was talking to the guy on his right. Of course, he used to work with that guy too.

After two beers, the bar was closing at 1:00 am. All of a sudden, it got super quiet and we noticed everyone was gone. The bartender needed to close out our tabs and asked, “Together or separate?” I quickly replied, “Separate” because I didn’t want Josh to feel obligated to pay for my drinks. Josh and I walked outside and he immediately set out to another place that was open until 2:00 am. He said it was the only bar open that late; all the others that are open until 2:00 am were underground clubs because of noise ordinances. The last bar was packed. We could barely squeeze our way inside. Once again, Josh knew someone as we were walking into the main section. He introduced me as his “friend, Christy.”

Josh asked what I wanted to drink and I said a beer, so he fought the crowd and brought back two beers. We stood in the middle of the packed bar talking. Now that we were standing while talking to each other, I realized he was a few inches shorter than me. That always makes me nervous because some guys feel uncomfortable with taller women. But being 6’1”, this happens to me most of the time. I’ve only dated one guy who was taller than me – he was an inch taller. The rest have been one to five inches shorter than me.

It was loud inside the bar so we had to stand close to each other to hear, which made the height discrepancy more apparent. The nice thing was that he didn’t seem bothered by it at all. He was also thinner than me. Sometimes that makes me self-conscious, even though I prefer thinner guys over larger guys. He didn’t seem bothered by the weight difference either. It made me feel accepted. He didn’t even seem to notice, and we were able to just focus on our conversation and who we are as people.

It was now 2:15 am and the bar was closing. We laughed that we closed out three different places. On the way out, I told him I was going to use the restroom and he said, “I’ll wait for you outside.” When I got outside, he said, “I’d invite you back to my place, but I just ran out of vodka.” I said, “Well, I have vodka sodas at my place and you’re welcome to come over.”

We took a taxi to where I was staying. I showed him around my little studio, got us vodka sodas, and we sat on the reading nook by the window. I turned on my favorite pandora station and we bonded over music. He told “dad jokes” and made me laugh.

For the next three hours, we talked about politics, gun control, movies, and adventures. At one point, Josh got so passionate about politics, he jumped up and was standing, sort of shouting. I just laughed because I was enjoying how passionate he was about it. Even though we didn’t see eye-to-eye on many things, I knew his heart was in a good place and he really cared about people.

My ex-husband had no opinions about anything, which drove me insane. I tried and tried to get his opinion on topics and he’d always say, “Well, you’re right.” It was maddening not being able to have a good discussion with my partner for a decade. I’ve realized that I need to be with someone who is passionate and has opinions, even if I disagree with them. As long as that person can have a considerate, respectful conversation, I’m down. It’s an absolute must for me in a relationship. I lose interest in someone who doesn’t have anything to say.

Josh realized he was getting too animated and upset when he was standing and yelling about politics. He paused and said, “I’m sorry. I know I need to work on being calmer when talking about these things.” He sat back down and we continued talking about other topics.

At 5:30 am, our conversation came to an end for the first time in nine hours. We looked at each other and laughed. He said, “Can we stop talking about politics and makeout?” I laughed, “Yeah.”

Josh kissed me with just the right amount of assertiveness. He was gentle and sweet, which made me feel comfortable. We made out and I laid on Josh’s shoulder as we talked more about his family and life in Australia. He kissed my forehead and his embrace was something I hadn’t felt in a very long time.

I knew our time would end soon and as he fell asleep, I laid there thinking about how wonderful the night had been. My recent experiences on dating apps had been making me very depressed. The guys put in zero effort. One guy kept wanting to “come over and say hello.” When I kept suggesting we go meet for a drink first, he’d end up being too tired to go out. We messaged for two weeks and never met up. He’d say he was going to get dinner and would let me know how he was feeling afterwards. I wondered why he couldn’t have just invited me to dinner…

I know sometimes my expectations are too high. I am an idealist and a hopeful romantic. The previous year attempting to date hadn’t gone well and I was really starting to believe I’d be alone forever. I’m too weird – there’s nobody who would like me for me and be willing to put in the effort. A few days before I met Josh, I figured I’d give up on meeting people online because it always just ended in hurt feelings and feeling disrespected. I hadn’t cancelled my subscriptions though because I was afraid that I simply wouldn’t meet someone in real life. All of the good guys are in relationships. Those left are often narcissistic jerks who only want to hook-up or are super lazy.

As I laid there, I knew that this probably wouldn’t last. I was only going to be in Whistler for two more weeks. He likely didn’t want a long-distance relationship and maybe this is all it would ever be. But as hard as I try not to care about someone, my feelings always get involved. I’m either not interested in someone at all or I fall for them. And when I fall, I fall hard.

I tried to focus on how I was feeling in that moment. I wanted to remember it, to cherish it. The way he looked at me. The feeling that someone cared enough about me that he spent over twelve hours talking with me, laughing with me, debating with me, kissing me, and holding me. I didn’t want it to end.

We ended up falling asleep as the sun was making its way through the blinds. An hour and a half later, the construction started on the unit above, disturbing our sleep. At 12:30 pm, Josh woke up and wasn’t sure if he worked at 3:00 pm or 5:00 pm that day. I took him home so he wouldn’t have to take the bus.

I dropped him off at a place near his house so he could get a coffee. As soon as I stopped the car, he opened the door to get out saying, “Have a nice rest of your trip.” He was out of the car too fast. I said, “Do you want my number at all? To maybe hang out again?” He said, “Well, that was my night off for the week, but sure.” He took my number and said goodbye.

I drove away feeling sad. I didn’t even know his last name or phone number. I had no way of getting ahold of him. I would have to sit and hope he messaged me, which I knew was very unlikely. I was angry with myself that I didn’t ask for his number, felt hurt that he didn’t ask for mine, and felt regretful that I didn’t tell him how I felt. I was also confused. He didn’t act like the guy who just wanted to make out. He acted like he cared. I knew his response would likely be, “You don’t live here.” But I still wished for the ending in all of the romantic comedies – the unexpected, the big gestures, and the “anything is possible” attitude. It was an unbelievable night and in the end, I fell for him. 

Post Edited By: Mandy Strider
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Days 145-151: Dating in Whistler

As hard as I try to stay busy, I still get lonely. I was on Tinder and from time to time would match with someone. I almost never message first because I don’t want to get stuck in another relationship where I’m the one doing all of the initiating. During the first few weeks in Whistler, I didn’t have much luck with men.

Keven

I matched with Keven shortly after I arrived in Whistler. He was engaging in his messages and his pictures made him out to be quite a character. He looked like a free spirit who enjoyed festivals and he had a nice smile. He was 30 years old and had black curly hair that was just past his shoulders. He was originally from Portugal, but grew up in Toronto.

He was living in a bus in Squamish and one night he said he’d love to come over and tell me about his stories and bus life. I figured why not? so I let him come over. It was late at night and I told him if he wasn’t who he said he was, I wouldn’t let him in the condo complex. It was a glass door, so I could verify.

Keven was standing outside of the glass door in a black hoodie (with the hood up) and black jeans, which made him look mysterious. He appeared to be who he said he was, so I allowed him inside. He gave me a hug and we sat down to talk.

Keven told me that when he was 20 years old, he moved to Mexico, near Playa Del Carmen. He went with his brother who was six years older than him. They bought an old van and converted it to a home. To make money over the next year, they played music on a jug to American tourists and made a lot of money. In an attempt to get him back to canada, his parents paid for him to go to Cuba with them. He decided he liked having running water again, so he moved north.

Keven bought a small school bus in Oregon and converted it so he could live inside. When marijuana was illegal, he worked in the fields in northern California picking it. He made $20,000 in six to eight weeks, working 12 hour days. He lived off of the money for the rest of the year. He said, “Now that it’s legal, you can only make about half of that.”

Growing up without a lot of money, Keven’s parents always told him not to pay rent. He took that literally and lived in the bus for seven years. Three years ago, he moved to Squamish and actually rented a house with some friends for two of those years, but had recently moved back into his bus. Keven described the bus as having an outdoor shower, a wood stove, and a full kitchen. He had everything he needed. For work, he did housing construction with his brother.

Keven was interesting, but not as interesting as he was trying to be. After just over an hour talking, Keven kissed me and we briefly made out. I didn’t enjoy it because there wasn’t chemistry and I wasn’t that attracted to him. I sort of pulled away at one point and when he left, he hugged me and kissed my cheek. I didn’t mean to, but I flinched and pulled away when he went in for the kiss. He left saying, “I’ll call you. You can come see my bus.” I sort of wanted to see his bus, so I said sure.

A couple of days later, he unmatched with me on Tinder. It was fine because I didn’t really like him anyway. But it still hurt. There’s a feeling of rejection when someone just unmatches and disappears forever. It hurt my feelings. Keven made me realize that I can’t just casually make out with a guy. I tried, but if I’m not interested in the whole package, I can’t be attracted physically.

Andrew

Andrew and I matched about two weeks after I arrived in Whistler. He was 34, very tall (6’6”), muscular, and had shoulder-length blonde wavy hair. Andrew was a firefighter and a paramedic. He grew up in Ontario, but has lived on and off in Whistler since 2003.

When Andrew first messaged me, I was at the Cornucopia that was going on at the conference center. The large conference room had a lot of booths with vendors sampling their wines. There were also some appetizers. When I arrived, I noticed groups of friends dressed for a nice night out as they tried different wines and beers. I felt awkward being there alone and drank my samples way too fast. I felt a little less alone when Andrew messaged me.

Afterwards, I went to a bar and continued to message him. He said he had a long work day and had work early the next morning, so couldn’t meet me that night. But, he could hang out the next evening. We continued to message, getting to know each other.

This trend would continue over and over with Andrew. He’d message saying he just got home from work at 7:00 pm and needed to work out and get dinner and he’d see how he felt later. Then later would come and he’d be too tired to meet me for a drink. He’d always mentioned he “could come over” though. After the Keven incident, I did not want someone coming over again.

I was feeling rejected one night when we were supposed to meet up, but he bailed yet again. I had done my hair and makeup so I went out drinking alone. He messaged me saying he wasn’t trying to reject me, but he was just tired. I never understood why he didn’t just ask me to dinner, instead of always saying he’d see how he felt after dinner. I realized he just wanted to come over and hook up and I wasn’t going to do that. So, I kept insisting he meet me in public. Andrew told me he’d take me for a walk on his next day off, which was in a couple of days.

The day came and Andrew said he was on-call, so he couldn’t go for a walk. He did offer to come over, however, as long as he was close to his car because he “might need to run out at a moments notice.” I declined his offer and felt very frustrated. He left for Hawaii for two weeks shortly after, and wouldn’t return until I was supposed to leave. I ended up staying in Whistler for longer than I originally planned, but I didn’t bother telling Andrew I’d still be around when he got back. I was tired of the games and it was pretty clear that he was only interested in one thing.

Adam

I matched with Adam in September when I first went to Whistler and I met him twice after his band was finished playing some shows. We had continued to message every now and then. When I got back to Whistler on November 1st, he was in Florida with his parents for a few weeks. In mid-November, he returned and we matched again, but this time on Bumble. For the next few days, we texted and he’d often be flirtatious.

After a few days, I was impatient and asked him when he was going to ask me out. He responded a day later saying he wasn’t into “dating” because he had a few bad relationships. He assured me that he adored our talks though. I was very disappointed. All I wanted was to meet up with him. I guess asking “when are you going to ask me out?” was too much. Perhaps if I had just said he could come over, that would have worked.

A few days later, we messaged again for a bit as friends. Then a week after that, I was walking through the village and saw a sign that mentioned his band was playing that night. I went inside and sat at the bar and ordered a beer. It was crowded, especially with the groupies at the stage dancing. I was surprised when he saw me right away and as he kept singing, he pointed at me. I waved and smiled.

Shortly after, he had a break and came right over and gave me a hug. We chatted for a bit and then he continued the performance. They stopped playing shortly before the bar closed and were cleaning up their equipment. I waited around so I could say goodbye. He saw me waiting and walked over and said, “I have to go home and get some sleep.” I was irritated because I wasn’t expecting to hang out with him. I was saying goodbye, a goodbye that I knew would likely be for good. We hugged and I haven’t spoken with him since.

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Result

I started to feel very depressed. I constantly felt like I wasn’t good enough for these men. I wasn’t good enough to be taken out for dinner. I wasn’t good enough to be romanced. I wasn’t good enough to date. None of them wanted to put in any effort. The dating scene is awful, no matter where I go. I was starting to believe that I’d be single forever. For the first time, it crossed my mind that I just might never meet someone that I actually like.

On one of the nights, I watched Destination Wedding, a dark romantic comedy. It made me sad that I didn’t have a partner. But these men all made me feel worse than feeling lonely. Maybe being lonely is better than being broken-hearted.

I often hear that expectations are the death of a relationship. While I think that can be true if you have unrealistic expectations, I also think it’s bullshit. I know that I have high expectations of myself, of my friends, of my family, and especially the person I’m involved with romantically. I tried really hard the last year to be carefree and throw expectations out the window.

Holding people to standards and not letting them be themselves, or holding them to expectations that society has placed, is bad. But we should have some expectations. I expect a partner to be honest, to be kind, and generally be a good human being. I don’t think that’s too much to ask. Trying to “let go of all expectations” was allowing me to accept poor behavior from Keven and Andrew. It was making me feel like that’s how the world is and I’m the weird one for expecting more.

I was recently talking with a guy about our dating woes on Tinder and I mentioned my experiences. His response was, “Wow, Don’t scare those poor fellas. Actually wanting attention. What’s next, conversation over dinner?” It made me feel better knowing there are men out there who put in work and don’t think it’s unreasonable to have basic expectations.

After experiencing all of this over a month, I decided I was done with men. At least temporarily. I was tired of them making me feel horrible about myself. I was tired of crying myself to sleep. I decided that being alone wasn’t all that bad.  

Post Edited By: Mandy Strider
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Days 99-100: Victoria, British Columbia

I said “good morning” to the spider in my bathroom, my usual acquaintance. I walked out of the living space in my Airbnb to drive to a museum downtown. The wife’s father was sitting on the couch taking care of the toddler while the parents worked. He asked me about my travels and I told him that I quit my job and sold my house in Los Angeles so I could see the world. He responded, “You sold your house in Los Angeles? You’ll never be able to afford to live there again.” I replied, “Well, perhaps I’ll be successful and can afford to buy one again. Or perhaps I don’t want to live in LA any longer.”

It was lightly raining outside and the man told me winter had arrived. They don’t get snow on the island, but they get a lot of rain. I really didn’t mind the weather. We never get rain in Los Angeles, so it was a nice change of scenery.

I went to the Canadian Museum of History. There was a section called First Nations Hall where they have information about the aboriginal peoples. I learned about their culture and how they were taken over by the British. There is a group who is working to remember aboriginal history and traditions so it’s not all forgotten.

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As I strolled through the museum, I wondered what would be left behind of our civilization if the supervolcano erupted in Wyoming. Our world is so digital, would anything survive to tell future generations that we existed and what our societies were like?

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The museum had a display about climate change. I thought they did a nice job of laying out the various effects without being in your face about it. I wish the US could be more balanced when talking about issues. Unfortunately, it’s all very polarized. We should strive to be more like the aboriginals. In order to achieve peace, they would marry two opposing families. Hmm, not a bad idea. Perhaps we should marry a Bush with a Clinton.

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After exploring the museum, I walked to the start of a ghost tour. There were 13 people on the tour and our guide was a former historian. He was retired and started this business walking people around the city, telling stories about the haunted past. He started the tour asking, “Does everyone believe in ghosts?” Almost everyone said yes. Then he asked, “Does anyone not believe in ghosts?” I was the only one who responded, “Me.” The guide said, “So, only one?”

The group laughed and stared at me as the guide said, “You know that means you’ll be the first to go if this was a horror movie? Don’t say ‘don’t worry guys, it’s just a dark hallway.’ That’s the kill line.” I liked this guide. He was a great storyteller and full of historical information.

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We started the tour on the side lawn of the Empress Hotel. Our guide explained that hotels are the second most common place for people to die, after their home. Hotels are especially prone to suicides. People don’t want their families to be the ones who discover their bodies.

In the 1950s, there was a British woman who moved into the hotel during the winter. At the time, they didn’t get many tourists during the winter, so locals often moved in to the beautiful hotel at a discounted rate. She always made it downstairs for the 4:30 pm tea time. Until one day. Concerned that she did not show up, the staff went to check on her and found her dead inside the room.

For years after she died, guests kept complaining that something felt strange in that room. The hotel received so many complaints, that around 1989, they turned her room into an elevator when they converted the old staff quarters on the top floor into penthouses. After they destroyed her old room, guests reported hearing a knock on their door and seeing an old woman wandering the hallway saying, “Have you seen my room?”

During the tour, we walked all over the downtown area, going to various historic building and learning some scary history. I was particularly intrigued by the story of the famous architect in Victoria, Francis Rattenbury, who at age 25 won a contest to design the new legislative building. He went on to become very famous, designing many buildings in Victoria. But then it gets interesting with affairs, greed, and being murdered back in London by his younger second wife and her 18-year-old lover. You can read more here.

The tour was fun and informative. The following day I drove back to downtown Victoria for a bike tour. Our guide, Matt, was about my age with a reddish beard. He was fit, but had a bit of a belly. He said this was the last bike tour of the season and I chuckled because I kept getting the last tours for the season. There were five people from a cruise ship that had docked, and a single older guy who kept talking to me.

We rode through Victoria, stopping at various sights so Matt could tell us more about the history. He said the buildings there are the oldest in western Canada because they never had any fires like San Francisco and Vancouver. When we arrived at the Parliament building, Matt started to tell the story of the architect. I felt like a child who couldn’t contain myself. I joined in with him and told them the more “haunted” parts to the story that I had learned the night before.

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Shortly after, we arrived at the Empress Hotel where Matt told us how it was the most famous hotel in the area. Not being able to contain myself once again, I jumped in to tell the others about the haunted history behind the hotel with the old woman.

We rode all over the city and saw the Emily Carr house, various government buildings, and the ocean. Matt told us about how Canada is no longer under the English monarchy, but they do still follow a lot of the traditions because they are part of the Commonwealth with England (Constitutional Monarchy). For example, there is a position in Victoria where someone is assigned Governor General of Canada for five years. Their job is to stand on the steps of parliament as the Queen’s representative and when a new bill is passed, she/he will nod their head, showing the queen’s agreement. The Governor General is chosen by the Premier of British Columbia and it’s usually someone who has shown a history of volunteer work. They get to live in a fancy house with a beautiful garden for free while in this position.

 The bike tour took us up some large hills, forcing some people to walk their bikes. It would occasionally sprinkle so I put my rain jacket on. However, the sun kept popping out, making it very hot inside the rain jacket. When we got back to the bike shop, Matt said, “Well that was a nice ride. It didn’t rain today.” A woman in our group replied, “Yes it did.” Matt laughed, “In Victoria, we would say it didn’t rain.”

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I walked through the downtown area and ate some delicious tacos at Tacofino, a place Matt recommended.  Afterwards, I drove to Best Buy to get another SD card for my GoPro.

Once back at the Airbnb, I started to watch a new series on Netflix called Maniac. For some reason, I was longing for someone to cuddle with. I missed having physical touch, someone to hold me. I never used to be that way when I was younger. It took me a long time to get used to holding hands and touching a partner. But now I often find myself missing the feeling. I’ve read studies about how humans need physical touch and that skin-to-skin contact releases serotonin and oxytocin (hormones that make you happy).

It’s funny learning things about yourself. If you told me 20 years ago that I would miss physical touch from a romantic partner, I would have laughed. As someone who used to get up every time her boyfriend put his arm around her at age 19, I wouldn’t have believed you. But in that moment, I wished I had someone to snuggle up with.

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Day 98: Thoughts Driving on Vancouver Island

Before leaving Tofino, I stopped by an outdoor market selling locally made items. It was small, but I enjoyed walking around. I went to a restaurant, sat at the outdoor bar, and ordered a poke bowl. Afterwards, I got some ice cream at a small shop next door. The girl told me that the power was going to be out the following day, so most businesses were closed. She was discounting her ice cream before it melted.

Most people in the town were at an all-female surf competition. I drove by the entrance to the competition, but there wasn’t anywhere to park. I kept driving and hiked to a beach with beautiful views.

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My next Airbnb was in Victoria, the capital of British Columbia, with a metro area population of 367,000. It’s on the other side of the island so it would be just over four hours to get there. Part of the drive was going back the way I had come, but this time I was able to see it in the daylight.

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At one point, I pulled over on a gravel shoulder to take some pictures of a lake. I left my car running and crossed the street. I noticed there was a small path leading to better views of the lake, so I hurried down to take some pictures. The lake was picturesque. It was huge and clear, surrounded by blue mountains.

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I saw evidence of a recent campfire fire and started to feel creeped out – like someone might be living out there. Just then, I heard a car door. Panicked, I realized I left my car running with all of my stuff in it, and couldn’t see it. Adrenaline kicked in as I started to run back up the small hill to my car. I yelled at myself, “You aren’t in the isolated Yukon any longer!” Relieved to see my car still on the shoulder of the road, I saw that a fisherman had just pulled up and was getting the gear out of his car.

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I continued my drive and noticed signs proclaiming that you are not allowed to hold up five or more cars. If you are, you need to pull over and let them pass. I was grateful for the opportunity to see the beautiful drive this time. The road wound its way around large boulders to my right and a lake to my left. I couldn’t believe all of this was on an island.

As I drove, I thought about where I’d go next. I knew I needed to be in Los Angeles soon for some doctors’ appointments and a friend’s birthday, but I also needed time to catch up on my writing. When I left California, I knew I wanted to see Canada, Alaska, Thailand, Australia, and Eastern Europe. But I wasn’t feeling it. My gut was telling me it wasn’t the right time to go overseas.

It’s difficult to decide where to go when you can go anywhere. There’s an immense pressure to not make the wrong decision. I was also realizing that traveling long term meant that I might not be able to date. If I traveled for two years, that meant no dating for two years. I had already been single for a year and a half, but it seemed much longer because the last few years of my marriage I felt alone and unloved.

Then I thought about the movie, The Holiday. Kate Winslet and Cameron Diaz do a house switch between  LA and the English countryside. They are both fishes out of water, which is hilarious. Then, they each meet a man that’s just right for them, while also discovering more about themselves. Life can be like that, right? I could meet someone while traveling?

I arrived at my Airbnb in the dark and it was slightly drizzling outside. I was renting a room inside a house, but it had its own little studio-like area. A door separated the living room from my apartment, which included a bedroom, bathroom, and a small living space.

I met the owners – a young husband and wife with a toddler and two giant labs. We said our hellos and the wife showed me my space. I grabbed my bags and had to walk from the front door through the living room. The husband was playing video games on the large TV, and wearing headphones while saying “f*ck” a lot. The wife was folding laundry in the kitchen while also taking care of the toddler.

As I relaxed in my little living space, I could hear the husband playing video games for hours. I felt sad for the wife. This sort of marriage is so common. The woman takes care of the house and child while the husband plays games. I am aware it’s not always like that. Sometimes it’s the man doing all of the work, and sometimes people have very happy marriages with shared responsibilities.

My marriage was similar to this couple’s arrangement, only we didn’t have a kid. Even though we both worked full time, I did most of the house work while he watched TV. Even though I get lonely at times, this was a good reminder to me that I do not want a relationship like that. I would much rather be alone than be in a boring, monotonous marriage, doing the same thing over and over, in something that resembles a business arrangement more than a marriage.

I know everyday can’t be exciting and there is comfort in being still with a loving partner. But we get such a short amount of time on this planet and I don’t want to spend it like that. Waiting for the kid to grow up or waiting to retire. I want to live the life I believe I was created to live. I don’t know if I will live to be 100, but if I live my life the right way, it’ll be great no matter how many years I get.

POst Edited By: Mandy Strider
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Days 93-94: Ziplining Away

I was happy to have more privacy in my little Airbnb. I paid some bills, including my health insurance. I was using the Cobra program, which allows people to keep their same health insurance that they received through their employer for up to 18 months, except now I had to pay for it. Each month I had to send a check to my previous employer to continue my insurance because they don’t take electronic payment. I walked over to the post office and asked the woman at the counter for a stamp. It cost $1.26…and we complain about $0.41 per stamp in the US! It also took more than a week to be delivered.

I strolled through the village and ended up at the zipline tour office. I booked a tour for the following day, grabbed some food, and took it back to my Airbnb. I spent the rest of the day writing for my blog.

The following afternoon I walked to the zipline meeting place. There were ten people in our group, with two guides. The two female guides were from Australia and in their early 20s. They lined us all up to put on our harnesses. Then we got into a van that drove us about halfway up the mountain. The guides told us there were bears and mountain lions in the area.

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When we arrived, we walked through the woods for a bit until we reached our first line of seven. The first line was the longest line and was a double, so two people go at once. I have ziplined once before and I am afraid of heights when I don’t feel supported. This was fun, but also terrifying. I believe in facing my fears, hoping that eventually I’ll conquer them.

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I stepped off of the platform and started zipping down the first line. As I went, I kept turning backwards, which made me nervous since I couldn’t see the landing. Your line clips into the brake to slow you down right before you hit the platform. It can be jarring and forceful, so each time my body was tense as I anticipated it.

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The fourth line was the fastest and we had to step off of a ledge (like a tree house platform). I had a hard time getting myself to step off and let the line catch me, but I eventually did it!

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Because of our groups’ size and having to wait for each person, it took a few hours to finish ziplining. While we waited, I talked with one of the guides. She was very short, but her boyfriend was 6’6”. This always seems to be the case – all the tall men date short girls.

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 After we finished zip lining, we were walking back to the village and saw four bears! There was a mamma and her three cubs. They were just scavenging for food underneath the empty ski lifts.

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For dinner, I walked to Portobello’s, my new favorite restaurant, and got some mac and cheese. I devoured it before I could take a picture, but I remembered to take a picture of my dessert.

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After dinner, I went back to my Airbnb to soak in the hot tub. There wasn’t anybody there, and I thoroughly  enjoyed the bubbles and the warmth. I showered and got dressed because Adam was going to come over after band practice. However, he got into a fight with his bandmates about a music video they were about to shoot.

I was disappointed because I was feeling lonely and wanted the company. Adam and I messaged as he vented about the fight. They were waiting for the director to come over to discuss their ideas. It was nice to message with Adam and at least have a friend to talk with.

I was leaving Whistler the following day and that morning I messaged Adam thanking him for being nice, respectful, and friendly. He sent me a nice message saying he thought I was cool and enjoyed meeting me. We agreed to stay in touch and maybe our paths would cross again. I was happy to have him as a friend. I had a feeling that I would make my way to back Whistler soon.

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Day 92: Peak to Peak Gondola

My Airbnb host, Ash, made me breakfast while we talked about relationships. He’s been married three times, each time for less than a year. They were all party girls and one had an expensive cocaine habit. He lived with his last wife for three years before they were married, but it still ended shortly after they got married. He reflected, “Maybe I didn’t put in effort.” Ash wasn’t really interested in dating and didn’t know how to use Tinder. He said maybe he’d meet someone in a bar.

Ash told me about the housing problems in Whistler and how the big companies take advantage of young people working and pay them the minimum wage of $12 an hour. There isn’t enough housing, so people are living six to seven people per apartment. For a few months a year, Ash goes to Mexico and rents out his place so workers coming up for the season have somewhere to live. The town is full of people from the UK, Australia, and New Zealand because they can easily get two-year working permits if they’re under 31. After two years, they can leave for a day, come back, and get another two years. Once they get older, they no longer want to live in shared bedrooms, but there just isn’t affordable housing. There are mansions sitting empty most of the year.

Ash vented to me about Vail Resorts taking over Whistler and how they don’t understand the locals and they’re trying to run it like they do in the US. For example, the Peak to Peak gondola only runs on weekends in the fall even though it has gotten very busy. He also vented about Airbnb and how he liked that it started as people in homes renting out space. Unfortunately, there is now a lot of investors buying property just to put on Airbnb. In his opinion, it ruins the whole purpose of doing an Airbnb – shared space with a local.

After talking with Ash for awhile, I packed up and loaded my car. I had only booked his place for three nights. My first day in Whistler was spent relaxing and going to the spa because of my back pain and I loved the town. The weather was improving and I wanted to stay longer. However, I wanted some more privacy so I booked a little one-bedroom apartment in the village. I couldn’t check in yet so I drove to the Peak to Peak gondola.

I parked in a parking lot and had to walk about 15 minutes to the village. There was a beautiful paved path through trees and suddenly a skate park appeared with a competition going on.

Once I arrived at the gondola, I saw hundreds of mountain bikers in line to go up the mountain, and others coming down the bumpy bike paths. They were all covered in mud.

The gondola going up Whistler Mountain fits about six people, but it wasn’t crowded so it was just me and one other woman. She was 30 years old, from Malta, and had been living in the US for the last eight years. She was in Vancouver for a chemical biology conference and decided to do a day trip to Whistler over the weekend. It took about 20 minutes to reach the top so the woman and I talked about things to do in Whistler.

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When I arrived at the top, I lucked out and the sun came shining through.  There were amazing views in all directions for miles. There were a lot of people at the top taking pictures of the Olympic Rings.

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To get to Blackholm Mountain, you need to board the Peak to Peak gondola that connects the mountains. I boarded that gondola, which fits about 20 people.

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The gondola dipped in the valley between the mountains, and then climbed up Blackmon Mountain. A sign boasted:

  • World’s longest unsupported (free) span for a lift of this kind in the world.
  • World’s highest lift of its kind.
  • World’s longest continuous lift system.

It took eleven minutes to cross to Blackholm mountain. It was incredible to float above the trees with the valley below, surrounded by mountains that seemed to go on for days.

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When I got to Blackholm mountain, there was a small hiking path at the top. I climbed up and walked around the path, seeing marmots and birds along the way. Once the short hike was finished, I went inside the building and watched a movie about the gondola.

On the way back to Whistler mountain, the fog was setting in, making it look like the cable disappeared  into nothingness. I was grateful I made it before the fog set in.

I walked around Whistler mountain for awhile, checking out the building inside and the famous rock statue that sits on the top.

Once I got back to my car, I drove to my next Airbnb. I was happy when my car with the rooftop storage unit fit inside the underground parking. I liked the place. I had a little apartment right in the village, near a grocery store.

That evening, I went to see Adam’s band play again at a local bar. I felt more nervous for some reason. I was also very tired after a day of exploring.

When I walked in, his band was on a break and he was talking to a table of people. I stood in line to get a drink and he waved at me. I felt like a groupie, and I could tell my body language was closed off. Adam came over to say hello, but didn’t give me a hug. He asked how my day was and I told him about the gondola. He also asked if I switched Airbnb’s and I said I did. Adam had to use the restroom before his break was over so he said he’d see me later.

I sat at the bar and the band was to my left, sort of behind me. I didn’t want to just stare at him, so sometimes I played on my phone while his band played. They were really enjoyable to listen to and Adam is really good at getting the crowd pumped up. There were several people dancing at the stage.

When Adam was done playing, he came over and talked for a bit and said he’d be back after he loaded up his van. He mentioned he had a 7:00 am doctor appointment the next morning. I figured it was his way of giving me a heads up that he wasn’t going to hang out afterwards and I felt disappointed.

Once Adam was done loading the van, he came over and told me he’s been waiting for the appointment with a foot doctor for eight months. He was having some pain in his foot and it would take him almost two hours to get to the appointment in Vancouver. Since he wasn’t going to get much sleep, he said he was going home. He gave me a hug and said, “See you later?” I responded, “Sure.”

I felt rejected. I know he had an early appointment, but I also know that people prioritize what’s important to them. I don’t blame him because it was an early appointment. I just wish he had told me the day prior or even that day. The day before he said he wanted me to come to his show and was still messaging, so it seemed like he was still interested. I couldn’t tell if he was blowing me off and was suddenly not interested, or if he legitimately just wanted to make sure he didn’t miss his appointment.

I finished my drink and walked back to my Airbnb. The village has a lot of bars and clubs, and people were out and about having fun. I was bummed because I thought I would be hanging out with Adam after his show. I was still going to be in Whistler for a few days and I hoped I’d see him again.

Post Edited By: Mandy Strider
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Day 91: E-Bike Vs. Pedestrian and a Musician

I was regretting my decision to do the 9:00 am bike tour with Ash, my Airbnb host, because I was tired and it was dreary and cold outside. When I left my bedroom, Ash wasn’t around so I drove myself to the meeting place. I met one of Ash’s guides, who said he wasn’t told I was coming, but said he could add me to the tour.

While we waited for a couple to arrive for the tour, I walked over to a nearby restaurant and bought a bottle of water. When I returned, the tour guide said he received a message from Ash saying he moved the 9:00 am tour to 1:00 pm because the other couple asked for it to be pushed back.

I was frustrated because I would have preferred to sleep in and I had just paid for parking. The guide was also frustrated because he wasn’t told earlier. I went back to the Airbnb and went back to bed. My back and neck were still recovering and the extra sleep felt good.

When it was close to 1:00 pm, I walked out of my bedroom and saw Ash getting ready to leave. He asked if I wanted to share a taxi so I agreed. While we waited for the taxi, Ash asked me how my day was yesterday and if I made it to the physiotherapy place. I was confused since we talked all about it the night prior. I said I went there and then went to the spa. He responded, “Oh, great! You went to the spa too?!” He clearly did not remember talking to me when I got home…must be the mushrooms.

Ash and I arrived at the tour meeting place a little early so I grabbed a coffee and a pastry at the restaurant next door.

For the tour, we used electric bikes (e-bikes). I used an e-bike once in Vancouver, but these bikes were much more powerful. You still pedal, but there is a battery pack that assists you on hills and makes pedaling easier. We tested the bikes in the underground garage to make sure we were all comfortable on them.

There were four other people on the tour: two women in their 40s from Montreal, and a couple near retirement age from the UK. It was 47° F and raining. Whistler has a lot of paved bike paths, so we rode through the town on the paths. We were surrounded by huge green pine trees, rode by lakes, and stopped at the Valley of Dreams (a pioneer house from the early days of the town).

The rain poured on us at times, making it hard to see. Thankfully, it let up a bit for part of the ride. Ash told us stories as we arrived to each sight – like a lake where people swim naked and hang out during the summer.

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Toward the end of the tour, we were riding very fast (about 25 MPH) down the windy path. A group of five tourists was walking and taking up the entire two-lane path. Ash and the two women passed them, which scared the group, who had split into two groups. One of the girls realized her group was now on both the left and right side of the path, forcing us to drive in the middle of them. She was crossing, but decided to stop in the middle and scream…right as I was trying to pass. I slammed on my breaks right as she turned to face me. I couldn’t stop in time and I ran into her, but she was able to grab the handle bars and help stop me. Her friends apologized because they knew she jumped right in the middle at the last second, giving me nowhere to go. Thankfully, we weren’t hurt and I continued on.

The bike tour finished up and Ash offered to buy me a meal since he dropped the ball telling me the tour time changed. The couple from the UK joined us as well. We went to the restaurant where I had gotten a pastry and coffee earlier – Portobellos. We all got the chicken and mushroom pie, which was incredible!

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Susan and Tony from the UK were awesome. We talked all through the meal and ended up staying to talk afterwards for a couple of hours. Ash didn’t talk much and was on his phone once he finished eating. Then he quickly left. Susan and Tony told me they had signed up for the 9:00 am tour, but received a message that morning from Ash saying he needed to move the tour to 1:00 pm because a guide cancelled on him. Right before we started the tour, he was drinking a beer and asked them if they wanted one. I told them about my experience and we realized that Ash had fibbed because he didn’t want to do two tours.

Susan retired last year after working in home health care. Tony chimed in, “She’ll be able to take care of me when I’m old!” Susan shrugged, “It’s quite different taking care of someone when you’re not getting paid.” Tony hasn’t retired yet and works for the Department of Defense repairing submarines. They have two sons in their 30s who are married with kids.

Susan and Tony have been to Canada a few times. For this trip, they would be there for 25 days, in Vancouver, Vancouver Island, Whistler, and Alberta. They gave me some good tips about Vancouver Island and told me about all of the bears they saw.

I swapped stories with Susan and Tony about crossing borders and police. They told me when they were visiting the US, they were pulled over when driving a rental car. They were scared and didn’t know what to do. Do they get out of the car? Do they wait for the Officier to come to them? They got a speeding ticket and were embarrassed to tell their son, who is a police officer in the UK.

When they went into the US to see Niagara Falls, they were asked to pull over while their car was searched at the border. They ended up just having to pay a travel fee in US dollars, which was a problem since they didn’t have US cash. They used a prepaid card and it worked.

I really enjoyed talking with Susan and Tony. They were friendly, kept me company, and it was fun swapping stories.

I went back to the Airbnb, showered, and rested for a bit. A guy I had been messaging on Tinder for the couple of days asked me how my day was. He said his band was playing at a local bar that night so I said I’d come see him play.

Adam was 37 years old and was from Toronto, but had been living in the area for many years. He messaged me the first night I arrived in Whistler when my back and neck were extremely sore. He was really nice asking how I was doing and telling me about his pulled neck muscles as well.

I took the free bus to the village that Ash told me about. It was a quick ride, but shortly after I boarded, a British girl jumped on and we chatted for a bit. She had just finished a catering event and was hired separately from the caterers to “make sure rich people had wine at all times.” She was excited about the job because she said she was paid for the work of two people ($25 an hour) for a five hour shift where she talked to people for 70% of her time. They let her take home three bottles of expensive wine because the label was ripped (but the cork was still on). She said, “They also didn’t care if I drank on the job.” Maybe Ash’s description of Whistler of being the Wild West was correct.

I arrived at the bar where Adam was playing and ordered a drink. I purposely sat towards the back at a cocktail table. His band was really good and they played cover songs. Adam was the lead singer, had a great voice, and was charismatic on stage. I was nervous and wondered why he was interested. He seemed much cooler than me.

The band was done playing and the bar was still open for about an hour. I figured Adam would message me asking if I was there and where to find me. I always hate the first in-person meeting. Will he be attracted? Will I be attracted? Will there be chemistry?

As soon as the band finished, I looked up from my Long Island Iced Tea and saw Adam running towards my table. We made eye contact and he got a huge smile on his face, came around the table and gave me a hug. He said, “I really want to talk to you, but I have to use the restroom really bad! I’ll be right back!”

Adam ran off down the stairs to use the restroom. I felt relieved. The anticipation was over, he was happy to see me, he made me feel accepted right away by giving me a hug, and he was cute.

Adam came back from the restroom and stood by the side of my round table. We briefly talked and then he said he had to help the band clean up and load their equipment in their van. He asked if I was sticking around and I told him yes. For the next 20 minutes as Adam was loading the van, he’d stop by my table to chat for a few minutes here and there. He had a lot of energy and it made me feel excited.

Once Adam was done loading the van, he sat at my table with me. He’s been sober for over five years so he didn’t order anything. He was about 5’11”, thin, had wavy black hair that was just above his shoulder, and full sleeve tattoos on his arms. He looked like a musician – sort of like Chris Cornell from Soundgarden.

Adam and I talked for the next 45 minutes about where we’ve lived and politics. He liked Trump, even though he can be crass. He said he likes to disrupt the system. Canada and the US were in the middle of trade talks that weren’t going well, so we talked about the current climate between our countries. I enjoy talking about politics so we continued for a while. At one point, he got a big smile on his face and said, “You get really passionate talking about this.”

I really appreciated him saying that with a smile on his face. My ex-husband, Aaron, hated that I got passionate about topics like politics. One time we were out with a few friends for dinner and I was getting animated while talking about politics. Under the table, he squeezed my leg and looked at me like, “Stop, you’re embarrassing me.” After we left the restaurant, I asked him to never do that to me again. It made me feel so belittled and controlled. But a few months later, he did it again while I was talking with some other people about politics at a restaurant. This time, I was angry that he was making me feel like I couldn’t be me and also angry that he was hiding the fact that he was squeezing my leg. He always liked to appear to be the “nice guy.” I said to the friends, “I’m sorry. I’m embarrassing Aaron. He’s squeezing my leg under the table to get me to shut up.” Understandably, there was an awkward silence.

Having Adam appreciate my passion for politics felt amazing. He wasn’t embarrassed, he liked it. I could be me without judgement. At 1:20 am, the bar was closed and they were cleaning up while trying to get people to leave. We decided we should leave and as we walked outside, Adam said, “You’re just so real – I like it.” We talked outside for a bit and I mentioned I thought some places were open until 2:00 am. He explained that only the underground clubs are open that late and he doesn’t do those clubs.

After talking for another 10 minutes, Adam offered to take me back to my Airbnb since I had taken the bus there. His van was illegally parked on the sidewalk so he needed to move it too. When we arrived at my Airbnb, there was nowhere to park so he just pulled up out front. We talked for a little bit, but I couldn’t invite him inside because I wasn’t allowed to have guests. I got out of the van and said maybe I’d come see his show the following night. He said he would like that.

Adam lived in Pemberton, about 20 minutes north of Whistler. When he got home, he messaged me for a bit, flirting, and then telling me goodnight. I was happy to have met him. He’s one of the rare guys on Tinder that messaged me shortly after we matched. He was always nice and fun, and I looked forward to seeing his show the following night.

Post Edited By: Mandy Strider
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Days 83-84: Dating the Wrong Guy in Abbotsford

Abbotsford is about 45 minutes from Vancouver and has 141,000 people. I planned on spending more time in Vancouver, but it’s expensive. A guy I had been texting with on Tinder, Ian, lived in Abbotsford and recommended it. It was cheaper so I chose to stay there. I had been traveling for two and half months and needed some down time.

After having a lazy morning, I drove to the grocery store to get some food. I had a whole house rented for the week and was looking forward to doing a little bit of cooking. I asked the woman at the register where their wine was because I couldn’t find any. She said they aren’t allowed to sell alcohol. Their law states that if a liquor store is within five miles, they cannot sell it. So I drove to the liquor store and got some vodka sodas.

I enjoyed my lunch at the house and updated my blog. At 6:30 pm, Ian picked me up to go for a walk. We had been texting on and off for a few weeks, but I hadn’t met him in person yet. He told me he was 5’10”, three inches shorter than me. As any female on dating apps will tell you, guys always overestimate their height. He was closer to 5’9”.

We drove about five minutes to the park and his voice was higher pitched than I imagined. His athletic clothes gave off a casual vibe. He grew up in Abbotsford, was 29 years old, had short blonde hair, played professional golf for awhile, and now works at his dad’s construction company.

We started the walk and Ian was walking incredibly fast. I thought it was rude and after 15 minutes, he was done walking and just wanted to go back to my place. He came inside and inspected the house.

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Ian made it clear what he was interested in. We briefly made out and the chemistry was not there. We decided to just hang out and watch TV. For the next couple of hours, we talked and got to know each other better. I enjoyed the company, even though he is not someone I would date. He said he’s not used to dating someone taller than him. Frustrated, I pointed out that my height was made very clear.

Ian said he was trying to be this aggressive guy and it was appealing to him that I was traveling because I didn’t know anybody there and nobody knew me. But he realized he didn’t want to be that guy  – the guy who uses a girl and then never sees her again. Apparently he realized I’m a real person.

Ian had always lived in the area, even during college. I told him about my travels and he said he felt like his life was boring in comparison. I couldn’t imagine living in the same place that long. Even growing up, I never lived in the same place for more than four years.

Ian left and said he’d contact me later so we could hang out again. We texted on and off for a few more days, but I never saw him again. He texted me and asked me if I was even attracted to him. I told him physically, yes, he’s an attractive guy.

Even though it didn’t work out with Ian, he was a lesson for me. I liked that he was assertive in his texts and said what was on his mind. I don’t like game-playing or men who can’t make a move.

While he was a physically attractive guy, his insecurity was unattractive. I intimidated him and he overcompensated by being overconfident and arrogant. I see this often with men who are shorter than me. Either they love it, or they feel insecure. I’ve learned I cannot control their perception of me, but I can decide if that person will continue to be in my life.

Ian wasn’t a mean guy, but he wasn’t kind. He taught me that while I thought I could just be causal and make out with someone, I can’t if I’m not attracted to them all around. I need physical attraction, mental, and emotional connections. Just being physically attractive isn’t enough.

He liked that I was just traveling through. It was disappointing to learn I was just some girl that he could easily get out of ever seeing again. I understand nobody wants to do long-distance. But I’ve learned I’m not really a casual dater. If I can be casual with a guy, it’s most likely because I don’t really like him much. If I like someone, I really like them. There’s not much of a gray area.

I tried to be reflective and hopefully learn lessons, and not make the same mistakes. I spent the next day going for a run around the neighborhood. It had just finished raining so it was still wet outside. It was humid and painful since I hadn’t ran in a month or so.

In the evening, I went to a brewery to sample some ciders. It was a Saturday night so it was crowded. The bartender told me about a table just outside by the window that sat two people. I took my four cider samples outside and watched all of the groups of people having a good time. Across from me was an empty chair, which made me feel lonely.

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Within 30 minutes, the mild allergic reaction I was trying to ignore came roaring in. My chest was feeling tight and painful. I was frustrated that this keeps happening more frequently and I don’t know what food and/or drinks are causing it. I took a Benadryl, even though I normally only take one before bedtime because of the severe drowsiness it causes.

After another 10 minutes, I couldn’t handle the pain from the reaction and I left. When I got back to my house, I took a second Benadryl and laid down on the couch. The alcohol mixed with two of the pills made me feel dizzy and out of it. I passed out on the couch until 1:30 am when I made it to my bed. All I could do was hope the allergic reactions, and meeting guys like Ian, didn’t continue.

Post Edited By: Mandy Strider
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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 62: Sadness in Anchorage

I checked into my Airbnb around 10:00 pm and followed the directions to get inside. I climbed the stairs outside and took my shoes off at the landing. The house had three stories: the top floor where the owners live, the lower level with two bedrooms and a shared bathroom, and the basement level floor with two more rented rooms and a shared bathroom.

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I got settled into my room and went to sleep feeling happy and content. The few days prior to arriving in Anchorage were wonderful, fun, encouraging, and beautiful. They were also tiring. I didn’t get much sleep and I was starting to get a cold. I took some cold medicine and tried to let myself sleep in the next day, but I still woke up after about seven hours. I laid around and got some things done like writing reviews of my recent Airbnb stays.

After a few hours, I headed to Target to do some shopping. I talked with my sister while sipping on my Starbucks latte. For the first time in a long time, it felt like a regular day that I would have experienced before I started traveling.

After Target, I headed to Subway to grab a sandwich. The music playing was a country song I had heard many times on the radio station in Fairbanks. It goes “sunrise, sunburn, sunset, repeat.” It was so noticeable to me because you never hear country music playing in Los Angeles. But I had heard this song so much in the last week, I actually recognized it.

I got back to my room at the Airbnb, ate, and watched Like Father on my iPad mini. A guy I had matched with on Tinder messaged me and asked if I like to watch volleyball because there was a game that night and the following night at the University (my profile mentions volleyball). I asked what time the games were and he said 7:30 pm. I thought about it for awhile because I needed to pay bills and catch up on some work, like writing. I finally showered and messaged him around 6:30 pm asking if he still wanted to go to the game that night. He wrote back around 7:15 pm saying “Oh, I’m sorry Christy! I was just telling you about the game. I came over to my buddies to help him move.” He continued to message, trying to get to know me.

What the heck?! Who does that? I felt like an idiot for thinking he was asking me out. My face literally got flush with embarrassment. But then I got irritated wondering why he would ask me if I liked watching volleyball and then give me the details as far as days and times, but not actually ask me out. That’s pretty crappy. I didn’t respond to his other messages.

My parents called and I talked with them for awhile about their current trip in Colorado. I briefly mentioned that I was on a dating site. My dad started into a rant about what I need to look for in men worth marrying. This really frustrated me. I told my dad I do not plan on getting married again. It cost me significantly, both emotionally and financially, to get out of my marriage. Nobody can ensure their partner will actually be a decent person for decades. My dad was not happy about this and the whole conversation left me feeling incredibly judged and alone.

I want a life partner. I want someone who loves me for me. Not for the person they think I am or for the person they wish I was. I want someone who sees me. My ex-husband never saw me. He didn’t notice anything about me. He didn’t love me. I want someone who actually remembers things about me, asks about my day, asks about things that make me who I am.

I was feeling incredibly lonely. Not just lonely, but completely alone. It’s the feeling that I am not “number one” to anybody. Not a single person in this world puts me first. I am nobody’s “person.” Friends, family – they all have a number one. I am not it. I am somewhere on the list, but will never be number one. There was a pain in my heart knowing I was down on every single list.

I felt sad. And then I felt frustrated. I don’t want to get married again and people can’t seem to understand that, especially my parents. I do want a partner. But there are no guarantees in life. If that person is not who they led me to believe or they change drastically into a terrible person, I want the freedom to get out easily without losing all of my money.

Marriage is one thing in life you cannot control. You can work so hard, do all the right things, and it can still fail. You cannot force your partner to invest in the relationship, and if they don’t, you have two choices. Your first choice is to stay in the marriage, unhappily and hope it gets better. A lot of people do this. I see people all the time who are unhappily married. Your second option is to get a divorce. That’s it. There is not a third option.

This is a bad deal in my eyes. I feel that when people are married, they know they can slack off and their spouse will not divorce them for little things like forgetting a birthday or not helping out around the house. The thing is, all those little things add up. That’s what makes or breaks a relationship. If you’re just dating, people know it’s easier for their partner to end it so they’re more likely to keep investing and be a good partner. Because if not, your partner could easily end it. But with marriage, there’s no such thing as an easy ending.

I was frustrated with the fact that I could have a few amazing days and suddenly feel so sad and lonely. My Myers Briggs personality says my personality type is the type most at home in a relationship and always looking for that life-long partner. It feels like a curse. I am independent and I would rather be alone than be with the wrong person. But yet, I still want that partnership. I want the love, the intimacy, and the adventure. And I don’t have it.

Post Edited By: Mandy Strider
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