thoughts on traveling alone.

Traveling alone isn’t all fun and games. 

There is no one to share in the inside jokes. 

No one to whom I can complain. 

No one to laugh with or with whom to people watch.

Congratulations. You have just become that person. I am now going to tell you everything I couldn’t tell anyone when it happened.

You know how that one husband who is staying at the B&B looks like the gay guy Cher kinda sorta dates in Clueless? Totally.  They kinda laugh the same too.

How funny was it when that couple at the restaurant last night sat on the same side of a table? [A table designed to have one person on each of its four sides.]  It apparently was their anniversary and the wife kept asking, “Did you move your chair closer, honey? Did you move your chair closer?” Lay off, woman, and eat your vegan dinner. You don’t need to be sitting on top of your husband right now. “Did you move your chair closer? Did you?”

Do you think Phil-the-kayak-guide is single? Also, what do you think it would feel like to run your hands through his curly red hair? (Answer: amazing.)

And that woman on the kayak trip who apparently knew everything? Gross.

< Was it just me or would you also want to run inside and yell to the people behind the counter at this donut place, “You did it! You finally did it!” like on the movie Elf?  World’s best donuts?!  Congratulations!  

Do I really have cause to currently dislike my job or do I simply have too high of expectations? Maybe it’s not the job that has to change; maybe it’s me.  [shoot.]

I don’t want to go home tomorrow.  Please don’t make me.  One more night would be perfect.

>The server I had for dinner at The Angry Trout restaurant was named Lenna. Of course she was.  I wonder where Ole was.  All I know is that she didn’t charge me for my glass of wine because she kinda forgot about me for fifteen minutes.  I’ll take it; it wasn’t like I was just sitting there doing nothing.  I was reading my book on introverts by myself like most crazy people would be doing.

No, Stone Harbor Outfitters, I will not rent one of those stand-up paddle boards to try on Lake Superior.  You crazy.  But I will buy a set of playing cards called Don’t Die Out There to give to my brother, Ben.  Each card has a survival tip on it; not that he needs it.  He just got back for a bear hunting trip about which he sent an email.  He called it “exciting” and is apparently getting a bear rug out of the kill.  Huh.

Bright yellow Keen sandals were a very wise investment.