Blogging, Dating, humor, PSAs, Uncategorized

The Girlfriend Experience

A quick note: This post is a work of personal memoir, told to the best of my recollection. Some names and identifying details have been changed or omitted to protect the privacy of the people involved. Dialogue and text messages are reproduced as accurately as possible, though some details may be reconstructed from memory. The opinions, interpretations, and feelings expressed here are my own.

A woman with long blonde hair wearing sunglasses and a light blue top, smiling over her shoulder, set against a gradient background of pink and purple, with text that reads 'THE GIRLFRIEND EXPERIENCE'.

PART I

Whoa. He’s TALL. And CUTE.

When I first saw Randy I was taken aback. After months of sporadic and not entirely engaging texting, I was ready to be underwhelmed.

We’d been set up by a mutual friend, Shawna, via text, both of us having just gotten out of serious relationships. Now I was 1,800 miles from home, at her wedding, meeting Randy in person for the first time. It was an outdoor, waterfront event the afternoon before the wedding and Randy was standing by the grills next to two large coolers filled with beer. I recognized him right away. I took a deep breath and walked over.

“Randy! Hi!” I said as I approached, smiling and hoping I looked calmer than I felt.

It was late July and the theme was Yacht Rock. I was wearing a short-sleeved blue sweater with a sailboat stitched on the front, a long fitted white skirt, and a red and blue satin scarf, tied jauntily around my neck like a Pan Am stewardess.

A smiling woman wearing sunglasses and a blue sweater with a sailboat pattern, seated outdoors with a grassy background.
Now boarding at Gate Whatever the Hell This Is.

“Jules! Hello!”

His grin was wide and sincere. I was immediately struck by not only his height, but his energy: warm, inviting, and fun. He looked like a walking bear hug – and the perfect wedding date, just as Shawna had predicted.

A group of people at an outdoor gathering, with one person holding two drinks, while others engage in conversation in the background.
One for me and one for…me.

“What a beautiful place this is!” I continued.

“I know!” Randy agreed and I could already detect the full throttle Midwest accent.

“And the weather is perfect, too.”

“Can’t beat it!”

“Well,” I said, starting to panic. I had interrupted a conversation he was having with someone I didn’t recognize and they were both looking at me expectantly. “I’m going to go grab a cocktail!”

I could feel Randy’s eyes on me as I walked away, but for the rest of the event, he never approached me. I tried not to take it personally.

I wasn’t looking for a relationship anyway. I had just recently freed myself from a man and a joint mortgage that nearly killed me. My trust, safety, and patience had all been tested to the point of Lexapro.

A woman sitting on a couch with a blue shirt, looking at the camera, while a fluffy dog is curled up next to her. In the background, there are festive decorations and a Christmas tree.
December 2025: Newly single, sick senior dog, and about to live out of a suitcase for five months.

I was finally –finally and truly– on Team My Life is Already Complete Without a Man. I was high on the prospect of days filled with peace, perfectly curated flower arrangements, and girl dinners. Was I open to possibility? Sure. But was I actively seeking dates? No, thank you.

I think my girlfriends agreed, based on the shirts they gifted me for my 44th birthday.

The night ended, or so I thought, at a dive bar downtown. It was the kind of Midwest town with a dive bar on every corner and cute coffee shops sprinkled between. You wouldn’t want to visit in January, but in July? Fantastic.

Two women standing by a waterfront, enjoying drinks and watching boats on the water during sunset.
Complete with a summer concert series on Lake Superior.

Randy still hadn’t tried to talk to me, but by the time we decided to walk back to the groom Jed’s house where a few guests were staying, we fell into lockstep and wound up at the dining room table with an expensive bottle of whiskey.

Two women smiling and holding small glasses, enjoying a drink at an outdoor festival. A vibrant mural with the text 'Oregon' is visible in the background, along with people socializing.
I take my whiskey neat and my men sloppy.
(Oregon Spirit Distillers Whiskey Festival, Bend, OR, September 2026)

“You can crash on my couch,” Shawna said to Randy as she was leaving to go home, about a half mile away. I was staying with her and knew her comment was anything but casual.

Randy and I, cool in the evening air but warm from the whiskey and company, walked back to Shawna’s house sometime after midnight.

“Hang on, do you know where she lives?” I stopped suddenly.

“No,” Randy laughed. “I thought you did!”

“I think we went way too far,” I said, not feeling nearly as embarrassed as I might have. Why was it so easy to be around this guy? It felt like we’d known each other for years.

I pulled out my phone and entered the address; we’d overshot her house by several blocks. We eventually tiptoed inside and found more whiskey. Before I knew it, it was three a.m. and we were still talking. One of Shawna’s cats occasionally made an appearance, but otherwise, it was just us.

“We should probably go to bed,” I whispered before things could get awkward. “Let me get you a blanket.”

I was staying in the guest room just off the living room where we’d been talking. As he settled onto the couch, I stood in the doorway.

“If you feel something warm and furry sit on your face,” I said, “I promise it’s not me.”

Randy’s jaw dropped and he blinked. I giggled.

“The cats,” I explained with a glint in my eye before shutting the door.

I laid down in bed before sitting up suddenly. I crept back into the living room.

“I forgot to show you the wedding gift I got!” I whispered.

I had told him several times that night that I would. Randy sat up immediately as I produced a Blockbuster fanny pack filled with cash.

“Last time I was here, I brought one and Jed took it, so I wanted Shawna to have her own.”

Man smiling and posing in a casual setting, wearing a plaid jacket, a graphic t-shirt, and a blue fanny pack, with a modern cafe background featuring a wooden bar and menu board.
When you live a few blocks away from the last remaining Blockbuster, gift shopping is easy.

“It’s excellent,” Randy complimented.

“Okay, that’s all!” I chirped and turned away. “Sorry I woke you up!”

“Wake me up again,” he said softly and I smiled to myself as I closed the door.

As my head hit the pillow, all I could think about was what it would be like to kiss him.

When I woke up, I felt surprisingly well rested. The men were supposed to have left early to go sailing, so I slowly opened my bedroom door, expecting the room to be empty. Randy was sitting on the couch and Jed was in the kitchen making coffee. I cringed and my hand shot to my hair, attempting to smooth it down. I caught a glimpse in the mirror: raccoon eyes and puffy, blotchy cheeks. Great.

“Oh, I thought you were going sailing!” I said, rubbing beneath my eyes to try to remove any mascara remnants. At least I was wearing new pajamas: a matching camisole and pants in a soft white cotton with little pink and green flowers.

“Yeah, the weather didn’t cooperate.”

It started out a little rainy, but the day wound up being perfect: 80 degrees and sunny. The bridal party gathered in a local salon to get glammed up. It wasn’t a traditional bridal party and it wasn’t a traditional wedding. Shawna, who had been married in her 20s like me, decided a “ceremony celebrating love” versus a court sanctioned union was more aligned with her middle aged sensibilities – and I was HERE for it. Our close friend, Erin, had a speech prepared that was ready to convince even crabby Great Aunt Becky that this was a wise decision.

“We don’t have much time left,” the hairstylist said when she got to me. “But I could do a Dutch braid type of thing.”

“I don’t know what that is,” I confessed. I typically spent about as much time on my hair as I did thinking about the Roman Empire.

“It’s kind of like a faux hawk,” she explained.

“SOLD,” I replied.

A woman with blonde hair styled in a braided ponytail, viewed from behind, standing in front of colorful portraits and a shelf with decorative items.

The backyard ceremony was beautiful and went off without a hitch.

A lively group of people celebrating outdoors, with one person being playfully lifted and held by others. The scene is filled with joy and laughter, surrounded by greenery.
Pun intended.

I didn’t really talk to Randy until the limbo between the ceremony and the reception, which was being held at the local aquarium where Shawna worked.

During the reception, Randy and I were seated at the same table and he seemed to be having a blast, scoring free beers and chatting with everyone. He laughed and clapped loudly during Erin’s epic speech. I made a mental note that he clearly wasn’t intimidated by feminism.

A woman in a bright pink dress speaks into a microphone at an outdoor event, while seated guests listen intently.
“Throughout history, institutions have been remarkably interested in deciding which relationships count. Governments, churches, families, courts: they’ve spent centuries asking, ‘Who gets to marry? Who gets to belong? Whose love deserves recognition?'” -Erin, The Myth, The Legend

When I went to the bathroom a short while later, I saw a text from Erin.

“Randy just said the sweetest things about you and I’m dying.”

“What did he say?” I asked eagerly when we next caught each other.

“I wish I could remember everything!” she gushed. “He said you were so great and funny and out of his league and beautiful. He said he saw you this morning when you woke up and you still looked perfect. It was SO cute, Jules.”

I raised my eyebrows. He seemed interested, sure, but not THAT interested. In fact, after dinner, I didn’t see him again until the bartenders were packing up. He emerged out of nowhere and said,

“Come see the stingrays!”

We spent the last twenty minutes exploring the aquarium, Randy as silly and giddy as a third grader hopped up on Fun Dip, almost missing our ride. Everyone was starving, so we went to a favorite local spot with a late night menu. I ordered their most popular vegan pizza and they delivered it to the opposite end of the long table. Randy popped up and grabbed me a slice, making a point to say he liked it, too.

A man standing in a restaurant wearing a black shirt and light shorts, with flip-flops, while another man in the background sits at a table with drinks.
He also liked my shoes.

We broke away from the group and decided to walk a bit, even though it had started to lightly rain. Randy suddenly said, “Hang on,” and stood a few paces behind me.

I was sure he was about to compliment my backside when he let a loud fart rip.

“Randy! NO. Absolutely not. If you want me to find you attractive, you can never, I repeat NEVER, fart in front of me. I thought you were checking out my ass!”

I couldn’t believe how easy it was for me to speak freely around him. To voice my opinions and preferences, to be completely myself, without worrying that I’d suddenly turn him off. He was just such a goofy, ridiculous, endearing human. There was no veil between Outside Randy and Inside Randy. After my last relationship, where every syllable seemed loaded with hidden resentment, it was intoxicating.

“Oh nooo,” he moaned sincerely. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’ll just hold it.”

That would be the start of many ‘fart holding’ jokes, but he kept his word. Once again, we stayed up until the wee hours drinking whiskey and talking. He told me about the cabin he was renovating and I shared dreams of buying a second rental property. He was as obsessed with his pets as I was with my geriatric doodle – all of our animals, coincidentally, named after celebrities.

A person sitting on the floor of a veterinary clinic with a furry, light-colored dog lying beside them, both on a colorful heart-patterned blanket.
Uncle Jesse has given me a few scares this year, but he’s still trucking and going on 17.

“I’m not trying to be suggestive,” I eventually said, “but it’s almost four a.m. and Shawna and Jed said they’re getting up at seven. If you want any sleep, you should stay in the bedroom with me.”

“Okay!” he replied with the same enthusiasm he seemed to greet everything.

It was one of those sleeper sofas where you arranged the cushions into a bed. There was plenty of room for both of us. We laid there in the dark until Randy spoke up.

“I heard Jersey girls are terrible kissers.”

“It’s true.”

I knew he was fishing, but I wanted him to ACTUALLY make the first move. He didn’t, and soon enough, we drifted off to sleep, arms barely touching. In the morning, I opened my eyes and saw him looking at me, a small smile on his face and eyes like a crackling fireplace. The unguardedness was so different from all of my other middle-aged dating experiences, where men were practically doubled over from all of the baggage they brought.

On Saturday, we enjoyed a water day on the inlet behind Shawna’s backyard. Randy borrowed a miniscule Speedo from Jed and laid spread eagle on a paddleboard. All of the women giggled and teased him while I –mostly– tried to avert my gaze. His pale legs would pay the price later.

A person standing by a fenced area waving at someone on a boat in a calm lake surrounded by trees.
Shawna waves to the neighbors as they take off in their party pontoon for –and I’m not making this up– an underwater concert.

I tried to play it cool, but I was really starting to like him. That evening, he disappeared to a bar with the men and I sat on Shawna’s porch with a few of the gals for hours, having the kind of hilarious and deep conversations that women can have even if they’ve only just met.

Four friends posing for a photo at a concert venue, smiling and enjoying their time together. The setting features an outdoor amphitheater with a rocky backdrop and spectators in the background.
Girlhood for the win.
(Shawna, Alana, Jules and Erin. Red Rocks Amphitheater, October 2026)

I wasn’t sure if Randy would return, and tried not to fixate on it. He did, and that night we managed to get to bed at a reasonable hour. The fact that he was staying with me again went unspoken.

“Are you going to kiss me?” I asked as we once again lay side by side in the dark.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to! I tried to last night!”

“No you didn’t,” I laughed and pulled him towards me.

He crawled on top of me and relief flooded my body when I realized he didn’t taste like booze or the vape he had been regularly puffing. Relief gave way to minor confusion when he kept stiffening his tongue and sticking it in my mouth, like a prairie dog searching for his next burrow. What was that? Was his ex into that? Where did men learn these things?

It was a common enough phenomenon that Erin and I had coined a term for it: Poop Tongue.

Two joyful women walking together on grass, smiling and laughing, with a wooden bridge and trees in the background during sunset.
Maybe if we just smiled more, they would learn how to love us!

Well, I thought to myself, maybe you can teach an old prairie dog new tricks. He had already agreed not to fart in front of me, after all. After making out for a while, I started giggling.

“You know, the Midwestern accent doesn’t exactly lend itself to bedroom talk. ‘Ohhhhh gash yah. Right there, eh?'”

Randy laughed and immediately jumped in, “Give it tuh me harrrd, mis-tur!”

We fooled around for a while before settling into a loose spoon and falling asleep. Randy had already declared that he wanted to spend the following day showing me his favorite local nature spots, and said he’d take off of work on Monday to drive me to the airport. He would also show me some more of his generous bedroom talents on our final night together, though we wouldn’t have sex. I’d always been pretty hardcore when it came to safe sex and testing, and Randy seemed to have instinctively picked up on that.

After getting coffee on Sunday morning, Randy drove me across the bridge to his hometown where he and Shawna had grown up together. He wanted to show me two of the state parks, but not before making a detour to his dad’s house to shower and change. He hadn’t been planning to stay at Shawna’s for one night, let alone four, and needed clean clothes.

I was suddenly standing in his father’s kitchen, wondering what impression I was about to make. Not a walk of shame, per se, but a Four Day First Date didn’t exactly scream Downton Abbey, either.

“Sorry, it’s a bachelor pad here,” his dad said sheepishly, trudging upstairs from the basement. I’d later learn that he had had NO idea I was coming over.

Randy went to go shower and his dad offered me a “pop” while we fed Randy’s rescue dog chicken nuggets. (Apparently his dog was as picky as mine.) We moved to the living room and chatted about Randy’s genuinely impressive childhood sportsball talents and I gave him highlights from the wedding while he laughed.

The mantle was filled with photos and trophies and the dining room table was scattered with mail, newspapers, and a slightly dubious black cat. The conversation was easier than I could have ever imagined. Now I knew where his son got his charm.

A person walking barefoot on a sandy path leading to the beach, surrounded by green grass and under a cloudy sky.
In the car, Randy would tell me how it “warmed his heart” to hear his dad laughing with me. Cue: warm fuzzies all around.

It turned out to be 90 degrees with 1,000% humidity that day, which might have put a damper on our outdoor romp since we both loathed the heat, but somehow, it was still fun. I convinced him to cold plunge in Lake Superior (twice!) and we tiptoed around crawfish at the state park. I learned more about his parents’ divorce and the 13 year relationship he’d ended right around the same time I’d ended my two year one. He owned his house, they weren’t married, and didn’t have children, so he had faced fewer complications than me.

A serene landscape featuring a waterfall cascading into a tranquil river, surrounded by lush green trees and a wooden bridge in the background.
Let’s look at this pretty picture while you imagine how heinous the breakup must have been if I can’t even blog about it!

“It probably went on two years longer than it should have,” Randy confided. “I have a tendency to be avoidant. We didn’t even sleep on the same floor of the house for the final six months.”

We eventually wound up at a local dive bar after I insisted on getting to the bottom of their signage.

“HI RHONDA,” the marquee read. “KISS MY ASS.”

“I have to know, is Rhonda real?” I immediately asked as I bellied up to the bar.

“YES,” the bartender replied emphatically. “Rhonda is the woman who owns the shop down the road and she kept teasing our bar owner for having a blank sign out front. So that’s what he put up.”

Sign outside Log Cabin Tavern with text: 'HI RHONDA KISS MY ASS'.
*chef’s kiss*

By the time Randy drove me the two and a half hours back to the airport the following day, holding hands most of the way, I was wrestling with what I wanted to happen next. Would we pretend this was just a fling? Was it just a fling? Would we ever see each other again?

Randy jumped on board and helped me replicate photos once we realized we were having a parallel day with Jeff and Erin, who’d traveled a few hours away to visit her college hometown.

My swirling thoughts kept me reserved during our goodbye, standing shyly on the airport sidewalk next to my bulky suitcase. Randy swooped me up in a giant hug, movie scene style, and said pointedly,

“See you soon. Sooner rather than later.”

Well okay then.

PART II

“I told my boss apparently I’m INFATUATED with this girl. I can’t wait to kiss your neck. I just can’t wait to see you!”

Randy was gushing, and probably more than a little tipsy, the first time he called me. By then, he’d already bought plane tickets to see me, a mere three and a half weeks after our Wedding Date That Never Ended. We used a concert he wanted to see as an excuse, but he even canceled a sporting event to make the trip happen.

“That’s basically the Midwestern Man equivalent of saying he’s obsessed with you,” Shawna informed me.

I was pretty sure he was in love with me at that point, so it didn’t come as a surprise, but it was still fun to hear. Apparently he was kind of a big deal in sports ball and was constantly recruited for tournaments. He also had a very grown up job that belied his goofiness, requiring an exceptional level of training and precision – and not a lot of time off. I would catch glimpses of his intelligence in his texts, which I occasionally needed Erin to help me interpret.

I was a Jersey girl like he had teased me about when trying to kiss me, but had moved to Bend, Oregon in 2019 and now considered it home. Soon after I’d gotten back to Oregon following the wedding, I had mustered the courage to text something along the lines of,

“We should probably have the safe sex talk. Getting tested is really important to me.”

He had replied with a Princess Bride GIF.

I had thought it was the perfect response, but as his trip neared, my anxiety intensified. He still hadn’t confirmed whether he’d gotten tested. I reminded him a week out, and he again responded with the GIF, but by the morning of his trip (he was due to arrive just before midnight), he still hadn’t produced results. Or even mentioned it.

I bit the bullet and texted late that morning.

“Your evasiveness on the testing thing is kinda giving me anxiety.”

My heart pounded as I watched those three ominous dots fill my phone screen. Why is it taking him so long to reply?!

“Yeah…” he texted back. “Didn’t want to spoil the mood that I couldn’t get in to my GP till after the trip which is awesome… So there’s that. There’s more delayed gratification.”

I stared at my phone like I’d been sucker punched. Hang on… was he just going to show up here and THEN drop that bomb? Lie about getting tested? Still try to sleep together?

“Why do you have to go through your GP?” I asked, jaw clenched.

“Good question. First time. I had some other things to check out and thought I’d get two birds stoned at the same time. Get an appointment with my dermatologist for my skin moles.

“My only experience is from Forgetting Sara Marshall where Pete goes into a pediatrics doctor and has him look at his dick. I assumed that’s the deal, get some tests and slap the willy around.”

I didn’t respond and he continued,

“I can’t blame you for being protective of your body. Can’t have a dude with a dirty dick fucking up the rest of your life and health for a couple moments for fun. I’d expect the same.”

My head was spinning. Was he being flippant about it now, just hours away from his visit?

“Yeah it was awkward to bring up / remind,” I wrote with tears pricking my eyes, “but it’s really important to me so I wanted to get ahead of it and be able to just enjoy the natural flow of things in person. I’m glad I know the status now and appreciate the context, but I wish I hadn’t had to force the issue.”

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t more upfront with that,” he answered a short while later. “I didn’t realize, well a lot of things, [including that] Planned Parenthood is [for] more than just women’s health.

“Got an appointment for tonight so hopefully it’ll be done by my flight. Completely understood, sexual health being super important to you and it should be for everyone. Didn’t realize it was that simple.”

I felt relieved, if a little wary. At least he tried to turn it around, accept accountability, and take action. That was the next best thing, right? A few hours later, he texted again.

“Well… I’m a big dumb idiot. I lost the appointment because I didn’t have my insurance card on me and it timed out. I’m super sorry. I really boned that up for being a bone head. I’m just looking forward to being with you in your wonderful city of Bend. Boning would have been the cherry on top.

“It wasn’t my intention not to get tested. I should have long ago before even meeting you. I should have known the process of getting tested. This all falls squarely on my shoulders and I will be taking all consequences of my actions. …We’ll just have to plan another trip.”

I swallowed and decided to accept that for now. I didn’t hate that he was already planning another trip, either.

I tried not to go overboard getting ready for his arrival; I was attempting to do that thing where the woman gets, what’s the word? Considered? Pursued?

A colorful itinerary titled 'Jules & Randy's Excellent Adventure' detailing activities for August 21 to 23, including morning breakfasts, afternoon floats, and evening concerts, with accompanying images of a scenic landscape and a woman smiling while holding a hat.
Okay, so maybe a little overboard.

I drove to the airport wondering if things would feel the way they had during the wedding trip. My only other long-distance relationship wasn’t exactly a model of success. Sustaining a new connection through so much time and distance felt like a tall order.

When I pulled up to my tiny local airport, Randy was standing at the far end of the walkway. As I drove closer, I couldn’t quite read his expression. Was he nervous? I got out of the car to greet him.

Just like his parting hug at the airport a few weeks earlier, he swept me into a tight embrace, adding a kiss this time.

“Are you ready for this?” I teased.

“YES,” he declared.

When we got to my house, he gave me a necklace “just because” and the next several days were a whirlwind of Central Oregon adventuring. We started with one of my all-time favorite summer activities: floating the river.

A hand holding a soda can in a blue koozie with the text 'Log Cabin Tavern Hi Rhonda Kiss My Ass', against a serene lake background with trees and blue sky.
Where I surprised him with these custom can koozies. OKAY SO MAYBE I WENT TOTALLY OVERBOARD, IT’S FINE.

As usual, he made everything fun. From glitter face paint to swapping shirts to vegan sandwiches, he embraced it all with open arms. He didn’t even get upset when he realized he’d left his brand new concert t-shirt at the venue, never to be seen again.

“Ah well, I’ll just have to get another one,” he said as we walked side by side in the delicious, high desert summer air.

On Saturday, following the concert and night on the town, I scored last minute permits for one of my favorite hikes. I roused him at 10:00am even though we probably both would have stayed in bed past noon.

He geeked out on the beautiful drive that took us past impressive lava fields. “We have to stop on the way back!”

Person standing beside a wooden signpost indicating the Mount Washington Wilderness in the Willamette National Forest, surrounded by trees.

He grinned watching me in my element, dirt crunching beneath my trail shoes, arms outstretched as I repeatedly asked, “Isn’t this the BEST?!”

“I love tall hiking girls,” he teased.

We swam and talked and laughed, the eight miles flying by.

I had packed so much into the agenda that by that third and final night, we were too tired to even make out, crashing onto our pillows before midnight.

“The Bend Tourism Board really knocked it out of the park,” Randy said, giving us another ongoing schtick about the “BTB.”

A person sitting on a rock by a tranquil lake surrounded by trees under a clear blue sky.

We continued to talk about how wild it was that we had bonded so quickly and then spent the following 92 hours of the wedding weekend together, both claiming to have never experienced anything like it. When we parted ways at the airport, I could tell he didn’t want to go home. He wound up leaving several items behind.

“Now I have to come back.”

I didn’t know if his reluctance to get on the plane had more to do with returning to work and reality, or with leaving me.

Scenic view of a river with multiple people floating on inner tubes, a pair of feet resting on the edge of a tube in the foreground, surrounded by greenery and a clear blue sky.
Because who would want to leave this?

“See you soon – sooner rather than later,” he said, echoing our last airport goodbye.

Once again, I tried to play it cool, unsure of what to expect next.

“Have a safe flight. Text me when you land!”

As much fun as we had had, there were a few things giving me pause, not the least of which was the testing debacle. The vaping was gonna need to go, for one. And he had spent the better part of the 8-mile hike hocking loogies behind me, even after I’d teased him about it in desperate hopes that he would stop. Could I stand that on the regular? Was I being shallow? Was I just afraid to fall for someone again this soon?

“I had a blast. Thank you SO much for your hospitality and amazing agenda,” Randy texted during his layover. “Bend lives up to the hype and we just touched the highlights. The people and the sights are top notch. The best part was spending time with you. You’re an amazing woman and I’m ever so lucky to have had the opportunity to meet and spend time with you. Tall hiking girls… What can I say.”

A group of three women taking a selfie at an outdoor concert, with a crowd in the background and a stage featuring lighting equipment.
68.2 inches of pure fun anxiety.

PART III

“I wish you were here.”

Randy and I texted daily after he got home while I wondered when he’d make another concrete move.

“I lowkey miss you,” he replied. “Trying to figure out the next time. Distance is dumb, I need more miles and money.”

“Do you have off tomorrow [for Labor Day]?”

“I have no leave left…” he said. “I used a ‘mental health’ day that Friday [when I came to see you in Bend]. Which was good for my mental health… Actually couldn’t have been better for my mental health. The BTB is doing its best work! Find me a [similar] job there or close with remote. I’ll teach [your] pops mahjong.”

“Tall hiking girls are clinically proven to be good for mental health,” I replied, secretly delighted that he was already fantasizing about moving to Oregon.

A couple of weeks later, Randy called and we talked for over an hour.

“So good to hear your voice again,” he wrote right after we’d hung up. “Hour 20m? Lol”

“It did not feel like more than 30,” I texted back.

“Distance is dumb,” he replied, repeating his earlier line. “We’ll have to become phone people,” he had said during the call.

This really was turning into something and I realized I was prepared to explore what that might be. He regularly texted things that suggested he felt the same:

“We would have been friends [when we were in grade school]. This timing works out better. I don’t think I could have handled a Jersey girl back then.”

“I’ll fix [your washer and dryer] when I come for Christmas.”

“I’m pretty lucky to be where I am. Things happen for a reason and that’s why I want to nibble on your neck just below your ear […] And promptly fall asleep… With the biggest smile on my face.”

He was just so easy to be with and I could be completely myself. What else mattered?

Even my selfies to him proved that point.

“[We have] a few [vegan restaurants]. You won’t starve here,” he texted one day, giving me the perfect foothold.

“What would you do if I just showed up on your doorstep?” I asked, heart pounding. It was the first time I was even hinting at the idea.

I was getting a ton of dog sitting bookings (the source of my fun money) and I had a lot of miles. I didn’t want to seem TOO eager, but my job was fully remote, on central/east coast time, and I had unlimited PTO. It was a heckuva lot easier for me to travel to see him, and I suspected he hadn’t asked me sooner out of Midwest chivalry (and maybe a little self-consciousness).

“Probably say holy shit, give ya a big hug and a kiss. Then run inside and do the fastest cleaning of my life.”

“First open weekend for me to travel is 10/9,” I explained a few days later after it seemed crystal clear he was now assuming I would be visiting – and really wanted me to.

“I’m pumped. I may have to announce some games.”

“Would the following weekend be better?”

“You’ll have my full absolute attention the following weekend.”

The next day, after I’d had a chance to research flight options, I told him that I could fly in on a Friday afternoon or evening and leave the following Monday or Tuesday evening. I asked if he had a preference.

“Early Friday and late Tuesday!” he immediately replied with his usual Golden Retriever enthusiasm. “I’ll take the days off. That’s not a problem.”

In the weeks leading up to my visit, he said increasingly effusive things, but the STD testing issue remained unresolved, a little cloud floating over every interaction. When I finally brought it up, two weeks before my trip, he replied,

“I’m not used to all of this. Always been or at least been in [sic] a relationship so it wasn’t an issue so getting used to it. It’s a good thing. Learning.”

“It’s probably not fair of me to be making so many assumptions,” I replied cautiously. “I’ve been assuming we’re on the same page and not exploring anything (anyone) else romantically, and would really like to bone each other, lol, and do it safely. I’ve been tested and have an IUD (and vehemently don’t want children regardless), and want a safe place to play in with someone I really, really like.”

“Ah… Yes, yes, and yes… !!” he quickly replied, seeming to finally grasp the gravity of my request. “You are awesome, hot, and tall. I get off on thinking about the different ways of boning you. I want you to feel safe always with me… In the bed and everywhere else.”

“Well, I’m glad we accidentally had that conversation,” I wrote, swooning from his words. “I really like that you want me to feel safe with you. So far that is exactly how I feel.”

“So right now… I miss your touch, smell and the taste of your neck and lips… Distance and being old. Well whatever. Less than three weeks.”

The following day I said to Shawna, “I really think he’s in love with me.”

“Oh I think so, too,” she replied without hesitation. “Part of why I set you up with him is because he’s the type of person who wouldn’t hurt you, that it would be good no matter what actually happened.”

For the next several days, I floated on the high his words inspired. Despite some misgivings, I had felt so confident throughout the past two months, bathing in the adoration of someone who seemed to like me for me. And now that I knew we were on the same page about our exclusivity, I could fully relax and enjoy what might turn into a real relationship.

When I got sick the following week, he texted,

“Less than 2 weeks [until I see you]. I can take care of you. I feel that’s my life goal.”

I beamed and rolled my eyes. What a goon. But after he wrote that, I didn’t hear from him for two full days. My trip was getting closer and I was expecting more contact, not less. I eventually caved and texted,

“Finally feeling better although afraid to jinx it!!”

“Well… I have a sore throat now too. Can’t swallow, hurting… I’m hoping because I had too much fun on Monday after my [sports ball] tournament and nothing crazy.”

I blinked back tears. Two days of silence after that grand declaration and he’s only talking about how he’s feeling?

I knew he was probably drunk when he was sending some of those lovey-dovey messages, but did that make them any less sincere? And the texts weren’t just limited to sweetness; there were plenty of X-rated ones that left no room for the imagination. In fact, some of them were so explicit that they made me blush.

A person standing in a park wearing a Lake Superior t-shirt and black tuxedo-themed underwear, with pants pulled down to their ankles, and a smiling emoji covering their face.
And I’m a Jersey Girl who swears like a sailor.

A few days later, we were both fully recovered from our flus/colds. It was now only one week away from my trip and he still hadn’t confirmed whether he’d gotten tested. I couldn’t believe I was going to have to ask AGAIN. It was the only thing I’d ever requested of him. (Well, that and the not farting.) I wasn’t asking for long-term commitment, just honesty in the present.

“Also checking in on testing status,” I wrote, trying to sound casual while giving him the benefit of the doubt. “I think it can take a week or more for some results…”

“Our good friend reminded me to do that and told me to make an appointment before you asked me…” he answered. “Hopefully the speed of government is good. Well… If the results don’t come in on Friday… I’ll just have to [pleasure you] all night. Hiking Saturday or white water. I haven’t figured out the exact plan… [The agenda is] not laminated yet.”

He included a screenshot that showed a Planned Parenthood appointment for the following Tuesday afternoon…three days before my arrival.

Screenshot of an eCheck-In confirmation from Planned Parenthood for STI testing with a date and time.

I immediately started to cry. He needed a REMINDER?! He still hadn’t done it?! He was going to put us through the same situation AGAIN?! I was beside myself. I spent hours crafting my reply, but waited until the next morning to send it.

“Honestly, Randy, I’m pretty hurt and confused about some things.

“I’ve been asking about testing since early August, and I’ve tried to explain why it’s important to me. When you came to Bend, I understood you’d arranged a PCP appointment for after your visit. What happened to that appointment? I’m having a hard time understanding how, two and a half months later, we’re now at the point where you’ve booked a new appointment for three days before I arrive, with no guarantee the results will be back in time.

“I think part of what’s making this harder for me is that we just had a conversation last Friday about being on the same page and not exploring other people romantically. You emphatically confirmed that you were, and told me you wanted me to feel safe with you, in bed and everywhere else. I took that conversation to heart. But then the one thing I’ve asked for to make me feel safe was…forgotten…repeatedly.

“I was also surprised to hear that a friend had to remind you to make the appointment. I’ve tried to be clear with you about how much this matters to me, and I don’t want to feel like I need to keep bringing it up or that other people need to remind you to follow through on something we’ve already discussed many times.

“For me, this isn’t just about whether we can have sex next weekend. It’s about something important to me falling through the cracks, even though I’ve tried to communicate clearly about it. And because we already went through the whole situation in August, I’m really, really struggling to understand how we’ve ended up back here.

“This is also coming on the heels of this past week. You told me that taking care of me was ‘your life’s goal,’ but then you didn’t check in or ask how I was doing. I had to reach out to you, and even then, the conversation became about how you were feeling. I know you were sick, and it’s hard to be at your best when you’re feeling lousy. But given what we’d recently discussed about how our exes treated us when we were sick, I was hoping for a little more consideration.

“These things have left me questioning the gap between what you tell me and what I actually experience. I’ve really enjoyed what we’ve been building, and I believe you feel strongly about me. That’s part of why this is hard to navigate. I want to be able to take your words at face value, but I need the actions to match them, too.

“I’m not expecting perfection. I’m not looking for another apology or reassurance. Those are more words. I need to see that the things I tell you matter to me register, and that I can trust you to follow through without having to keep reminding you. Right now, I’m struggling with that, and I need to figure out how I’m feeling about everything.”

View from an airplane window featuring the aircraft wing and a distant mountain in the background under a clear blue sky.
AND LET’S REMEMBER I’M SUPPOSED TO GET ON A PLANE TO SEE YOU IN SIX DAYS.

“I needed to hear that,” he wrote back an hour later. “Truth is I’m scared of the consequences, both in rejection and commitment. I’ve procrastinated in my appointment probably because of that. I honestly want you to be safe and comfortable. I’m scared that I might fail at that. You’re an amazing woman that deserves that with whomever that maybe [sic]. Words do not equal actions. I need to show you that I am sorry and that I am able to provide you with safety and comfort.”

I stared at my phone. …With whomever that may be? What was he trying to say exactly? I once again chose my words with the precision of a woman who’d recently been gaslit for the better part of a year.

“I appreciate you sharing that. I understand how the stakes feel high and uncomfortable, but unfortunately, you avoided the discomfort and left me to discover the consequences in the 11th hour…again.

“That’s the part that concerns me most. Not that you have fears. Not even that you procrastinated. It’s that your way of managing those fears appears to have been to avoid a conversation that I had every reason to expect you to have with me.

“I can’t make informed decisions about my own life if you’re privately experiencing one thing while telling me another. I was presumably important enough for you to fly to Bend, make plans, talk about the future, and tell me that taking care of me was your life’s goal. Yet this one concrete thing remained undone.

“That’s a pretty significant discrepancy.

“I don’t know how to reconcile the things you’ve told me about how you feel about me with what’s actually happened. And I’m not entirely sure your response is saying that you genuinely want to show me that I can feel safe and comfortable with you, or that you’re ready to do what that would require. That would take consistent behavior over time, and right now, I’m not sure where that leaves us.”

I hit send and then spent the day with Babs (mom) hiking, drinking wine, and chatting. I felt calm, accepting of whatever was to come. By the next morning, though, the dread settled in. Did he think that last text was a break-up? Was he off getting drunk somewhere? Was he just ignoring me?

When nearly two days went by without a response, I started to really spiral. I mean…what the actual fuck? Was I getting GHOSTED? With plane tickets in my hand?? I decided to give it exactly 48 hours before canceling my flight.

A woman holding a drink with a lemon slice, looking at the camera with a serious expression in a bar setting.
Guess I’ll have to spend $36 on an airport Long Island Iced Tea another time.

My heart pounded as I clicked cancel inside the United app. I waited another several hours before texting him, still in shock by the complete radio silence.

“Since I haven’t heard from you I’ll assume you’re either not capable of the type of connection I’m looking for or dead. I thought what we’d shared deserved more care and consideration than silence. At a bare minimum, I expected the respect of an honest conversation, even if that conversation meant acknowledging that this wasn’t going to work. I’ve cancelled my flight.”

A half an hour later, I finally got a response.

“It does deserve more than silence,” Randy wrote. “I’ve spent the two days self reflecting and talking over what I wanted to say. I didn’t come up with a whole lot. I am a conflict deflector and push things off until it’s a bigger deal than it should be. You’re amazing and our time together was amazing. Maybe if we were closer geographically it’d be different. I can’t blame that. If I were better it could have worked.”

WHAT IN THE HELL KIND OF BULLSHIT MOTHER FORKING COP OUT IS THIS COLOSSAL PILE OF FECES? I felt dizzy.

All of the stages of grief hit at once. Denial, anger, sadness. But mostly disappointment. After all of that time together and a bond that I thought was characterized by its ease and authenticity, had I just been hit by another love bomb? Was I enough for The Girlfriend Experience but not enough for The Actual Girlfriend? Had I really, truly been that delusional in reading the room?

A woman in a red outfit sitting in a colorful cave-like structure, smiling and posing with her hands raised.
Hello? Is this where they hide all the false promises?
(Meow Wolf Denver, September 2026)

I didn’t respond. I also knew it was unlikely I’d ever hear from him again. He was too avoidant and I was too…experienced. I wouldn’t let myself believe someone was more than their actions just because they had potential. My last relationship ended after the heartbreak and exhaustion of doing just that.

Three women posing together at an outdoor event in front of a Taco Bell restaurant, wearing hats and athletic attire.
When walking 32 miles while eating 10 soggy burritos feels dreamy compared to your last relationship.
(Shawna, Erin & Jules: Denver Taco Bell 50k finish line, October 2026)

“I hope you aren’t hurt too badly,” Erin texted immediately after seeing the screenshot of Randy’s final message. “I know you two had a good time when you were together and still had a meaningful connection even if it isn’t a forever connection. I hope you feel more proud of yourself and rooted in who you are. I’m proud of you for knowing who you are and what you need and not compromising any of that while still being generous and loving. That’s a big deal.”

The screen was blurry as I read her words. I knew I’d be okay. I knew it was for the best. But for now, my only consolation prize?

I finally had something I wanted to write about.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Blogging, Dating

New Love

Disclaimer: This blog post is memoir. It reflects the author’s present recollections of experiences over time. Some names and characteristics have been omitted or changed, some events have been compressed, and some dialogue has been recreated.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Can I cancel? I really want to cancel.

I stared at the clock. It was 4:30pm, a.k.a. Online Dating Witching Hour, when single, 40-year-old women’s nervous systems kick into high gear and Fight-or-Flight battles with Reason.

I was feeling especially cagey about that night’s first date because, just the night before, I’d gone on a first date that went disturbingly sideways. While it initially seemed like a great conversation with someone who might make a wonderful friend, the guy got drunk, propositioned me, and then backpedaled by explaining that he “understood women” because he “had daughters” and, for example, knew I had taken my purse to the bathroom “because I had had [my] period.”

Spotted him again on Hinge last week. He now lies about his first name AND his age. Get in line, ladies!

Fast forward 24 hours and the internal debate raged on. Doooon’t cancel. You know how bad that feels when it happens to you. Plus, this is a midwest guy. He’s not going to talk about periods.

David and I had matched on Bumble about a week and a half earlier and he immediately explained that he was en route to Bend to spend Christmas with his dad, splitting his time between Bend and the midwest.

“I moved to [the midwest] about 7 years ago,” David wrote in his first message to me. “With my no [sic] ex-wife. When we separated I have been spending more time out in Bend with my Dad. Love both places.”

“I read that a few times,” I wrote back, “asking myself, ‘Oh lord, what is a no ex wife? Is this another ethically non monogamous dude?’ and then realized you probably meant ‘now ex wife’? …Correct? (You can never be too careful on these apps.)”

“haha yes, I did. I saw that after it was too late. But I hear ya, I’ve noticed a lot of that on here – I’m definitely not that.”

I suggested we meet at one of my favorite casual restaurants downtown for a drink when he got to Bend, and when our date night arrived, I decided NOT to cancel and dress up in a black top and skirt.

David walked in ten minutes late looking a little flustered, having gone to the wrong spot in the sprawling restaurant. He was tall and dressed like a midwest-meets-Bend hipster: plaid shirt, vest, wool beanie.

“Are you a hugger?” I asked, rising to greet him with a smile.

“Absolutely, yes,” he said and hugged me in a way that showed he meant it.

Well, he’s definitely cute, I thought as we took our seats. He hadn’t been smiling in any of his dating profile photos and I was pleasantly surprised to see how charming he looked when he did, which was often and easily, just like me. The conversation started slowly and I struggled to get us away from mundane small talk. I bet he’s bored out of his mind and can’t wait to leave.

“So this is actually my first ever online date,” David confessed.

“THAT IS NOT FAIR,” I immediately blurted.

“I just had a good feeling about you,” he shrugged.

“You hit the jackpot,” I teased. “That really isn’t fair.”

When we finished our second drink, I was surprised that David both insisted on paying (a growing rarity in the online dating world) and then said,

“Should we get another somewhere else?”

I suggested a nearby bar and as we made the short walk, I cautioned,

“I’ll need a chivalrous arm because the entire parking lot is a sheet of ice.”

He offered his right arm and I got the sense that that one small gesture healed something inside both of us. We ordered whiskey cocktails -he again insisted on paying in an easy, swoon-worthy way- and we settled into a more intimate, relaxed conversation, diving into topics like veganism, financial security, and, of course, cheesecake.

“I’ve been wanting to try to make a vegan cheesecake now that I know all of the best vegan dairy products. I could make you one for your [upcoming] birthday if you’ll be in Bend!”

“I could be in Bend for my birthday,” he replied without hesitation. He made several similar comments that night that had me feeling confident I didn’t have to worry that he owned a house 2,500 miles away.

“So what are you looking for?” he asked at one point.

“A partner,” I replied immediately and he nodded, seeming not the slightest bit surprised.

“I’m beginning to see that you really need this,” he teased at the end of the night, seeming much more at ease, as he again offered his chivalrous arm all the way back to my car. This time, the insanely icy sidewalks almost took us both out.

In Bend, snow management = There’s snow. You’ll manage.

“So how does this work? Do we exchange numbers?” he asked once we reached my car. I nearly melted at his naïveté. He took out his phone and I gave him my number.

We texted until midnight and all I could think was: This guy is out of my league and I NEED TO LOCK. IT. DOWN. Smart, handsome, polite, artistic, sensitive, financially secure, active, a dog lover and foodie… He spent his free time doing creative and varied hobbies and had built a community and life for himself that mirrored what I had in Bend. He was even left-handed like me, and it didn’t hurt that his teeth were perfect and he smelled great, too.

“So are we calling today our first date or is it just the Crazy Vetting one?” I texted.

“Well, whatever you call it I liked it and I want more.”

“I learned from true crime shows that once you let them take you to a second location…it becomes a first date.”

“Call it what you want so long as I get to take you on another date.”

“Looking forward to gripping your manly chivalrous arm next week [when I get back from a Christmas trip].”

“I look forward to that, too. I still have a moment I am thinking about when I was just looking into your eyes and thought, ‘huh, this girl is hanging out with me? That feels really nice.’ Just a simple acknowledgement, and appreciate that, wherever it goes from here.”

The next day, on the long drive to the Oregon coast with my “Bend sister,” Erin, I immediately warned her,

“I’m not going to be able to shut up about David, so should I just get it all out now?”

She laughed and let me ramble about all things Amazing David for at least an hour.

“He remodeled his kitchen himself – and it’s my dream kitchen! He taps his own maple trees! He paints! He sails! He plays hockey! He does yoga! He said he’s working on a cookbook with mostly vegan recipes! …I should probably try to go on a date on the coast just so I don’t get too obsessive.”

It was a tactic I’d picked up from a respected friend (now married via Tinder): always keep 4-5 guys in the rotation in the beginning so you don’t get too hung up when one doesn’t text (or winds up claiming he has an alien blood type). This adopted strategy kept me from texting David a ton over the following few days, although we did exchange several messages each day.

I mean obviously he needed to see this photo.

“Do you mind if we play things by ear on Monday? I might be wiped when we get back,” I texted. I was eager to see him, but wanted to bring my A game. He assured me he’d make himself available whenever I was free.

On Monday, I decided I couldn’t wait another moment to see him and we arranged to meet at a nearby, mellow restaurant with lots of vegan options. This time he was only a minute or two late, and when he walked in, my face exploded into a wide grin.

“Hi,” he said, smiling from ear to ear. His eyes sparkled and I could feel his expression reflected in my own. He looks SO happy to see me. We hugged and everything felt warm. Good. Right. Conversation flowed and we shared a giant salad with tempeh and vegan wasabi mayo – a combination we both couldn’t get enough of.

“Did you know they don’t use real wasabi in the U.S. because it’s too expensive?” David asked. “It’s actually just horseradish.”

“Are you serious?” I replied. “What is real wasabi then?”

“It’s a plant in the radish family that only grows in Japan.”

Marry me.

“Holy crap it’s already almost nine,” I said later, the past three hours having flown by. “Excuse me, I’m going to use the restroom before they close.”

When I came back, we chatted some more and I wondered why no one was bringing the check. The waitstaff was already putting chairs up.

“I guess we should get the bill?” I finally said.

“Oh, I paid when you were in the bathroom,” David explained.

Marry me.

As we walked outside, I was struck by how small I felt next to him – not a common feeling at 5’8″. We stood in front of my car silently for a moment, his eyes glowing. He leaned forward and placed the most gentle kiss on my lips. It suddenly occurred to me that that was likely his first kiss since his divorce.

It was snowing so we didn’t linger as long as we both wanted to. The next night I met a friend for drinks and when I checked my phone, I saw a message from David.

“Hi, I’m finishing up dinner with my dad – care to hang out with me for a short bit?”

I was exhausted and about to head home, but couldn’t bear the thought of this wonderful man thinking I wasn’t excited to see him. Besides, he was only in town for a few more days. I told him to come over to the bar. David chatted easily with my friend, foreshadowing the next two weeks where he’d seamlessly immerse himself in my world.

And it’s a pretty great world.

We shared another chaste kiss in the snowy parking lot and David joked,

“Hopefully the weather improves so we can make out.”

The next night we played trivia with a few friends, one of my favorite hobbies. The brewery was crowded and there weren’t enough bar stools, so he stood behind me the whole night, reaching his hands through my overalls and around my waist. Instead of feeling self-conscious that a handsome man was touching my stomach, I leaned into his chest.

Overall, it was a great night. (And we won trivia.)

“Do you want to come inside?” I asked him when we got back to my apartment.

“Do you want me to?” he replied.

“Yes,” I said without hesitation.

We chatted for a while on the couch before kissing.

“I really can’t figure out what you want,” he said, pulling away.

“What do you mean?” I giggled in reply.

“I’m like, does she want me to kiss her, not want me to kiss her? I can’t figure you out. But I keep coming back for more.”

I giggled again.

“You have a wall up,” he said, intensely holding my gaze. “Why?”

Tears sprung to my eyes.

“I’ve really been through the wringer.”

He placed a palm over my heart and rubbed my chest soothingly. No one had ever done that and I was moved beyond words. We talked for a long time until he said,

“Do you feel that? Your wall is starting to come down.”

As we made out, he often paused to stare at me intensely and I tried not to shy away from this person who was so disconcertingly vulnerable. We talked and kissed for hours before he went home, and the next morning, he texted,

“I’m at a coffee shop with vegan breakfast options. Can I bring you something?”

Normally a text like that would have me internally screaming, “Ack! No! It’s the morning and I’m gross!” Instead, I found myself replying,

“I would love that, actually.”

We spent the better part of every day together after that, each day me asking,

“So, when do you have to get back [to your midwest home]?” He had originally intended to leave shortly after Christmas.

“I don’t know yet,” he would reply, eventually confessing, “I can’t seem to leave you, even though I’m making things more difficult for myself [with work and the house by delaying my return].”

We jokingly (but not) talked about him buying property in Bend after I learned that he didn’t actually split his time between Bend and the midwest. I also learned that he was still dealing with messy divorce paperwork, so “no ex wife” was an apt descriptor after all. But it was too late; I was already in too deep.

“I’m falling for you,” I said on New Year’s Eve, my voice wobbling.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I’m not ready for a full-blown relationship right now,” he said, tears in his eyes. “But I guess I already have hurt you.”

“I told you on our first date I was looking for a partner!”

“I know,” he replied. “I guess I’ve been selfish. I just haven’t been able to stay away from you. I wasn’t expecting this.”

“I’m solid in what I want; I’ve been at this dating game for ten years [since my own divorce]. I want this to be real, not just some summer camp fling. I’m scared this is just an escape for you, but this is my real life. I let you into my whole world.”

I introduced you to my Bend family!

“How can you say this isn’t real?” he said, tears landing on his cheeks.

On his last night in Bend, I cried for hours.

“I don’t plan on seeing other people,” he said, “But probably for different reasons than you. I need to focus on healing.”

We agreed we’d continue to talk and video chat and not see other people without telling the other first.

When he left, his text messages slowed and his phone calls were non-existent. A sinking feeling took over, punctured by random moments of hope when he’d text things like,

“Want to meet me in Mexico for my birthday? I’ll buy your ticket.”

“Well there’s only one answer to that question!”

Even though we made a couple of plans to see each other, he never followed through and I eventually confronted him via text. He immediately called.

“I’m completely humiliated,” I cried into the phone. “I bought bathing suits for Mexico! My friends keep asking about you! I’ve been solid and honest with you about how I’ve felt and what I want. You put all of this effort into ‘breaking down my wall’ and then look how you’ve treated me!”

“I know. I know. You’re right. About everything. I’m so sorry, Jules,” he said with his usual unguarded sincerity. “I got back home and everything just hit me and I chose to just not do anything, which was the shitty thing to do. But I wouldn’t be on the phone with you right now if I didn’t care about you. I didn’t expect to go on my first date in 13 years and connect with someone like this.”

Two hours later, we were back to flirting.

“I got my hair done today and I didn’t even send you a selfie,” I teased.

“Send it now.”

I did and he made a suggestive comment, prompting me to laugh.

“I like picturing you doing that little giggle of yours,” he said in response to a laugh I only seemed to do around him.

We joked some more and got even flirtier.

“Well, at least we know we always have that part,” David said. I, for one, knew I’d never been so attracted to someone -physically, spiritually, emotionally- in my life.

After that phone call, I was sure we’d stay in regular contact, but once again his texts disappeared. Completely defeated, I finally texted him that I would “let him off the hook” and start seeing other people. We agreed to have another video chat.

“Based on how things have been,” I began, “I’m just going to carry on with my life and not expect anything from you. No texts, nothing.”

“What are you trying to say?” he replied, seeming offended.

“I want to be in touch and stay connected, and we could use this time to get to know each other better, but that doesn’t seem to be what’s actually happening.”

“I selfishly want to stay friends so that maybe in the future I’ll still have a shot with you,” he confided. “But I know you don’t trust me anymore so that probably won’t work.”

Throughout the long chat, he said sweet things about all of the time we’d spent together.

“The day we went to the nacho place was one of my favorite times. That was a perfect day. I remember sitting there at the bar waiting for you and feeling so proud that I got to be with you and like I was the luckiest guy in the room.”

I reminisced with him, wondering if, one day, we might get back to that perfect place. I wished we could be there now. Instead, he knew I had to end our chat to go on another date. I couldn’t wait around for months, or even years, hoping he’d one day be ready for what we seemed to so clearly have.

“Well… I’d better get going…,” I said after we’d talked for two hours.

His face crumpled and he began to cry.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “That just really hit me. I wasn’t expecting that [to hit me so hard]. I’m sorry.”

We said goodbye and the only text I got from him came days later, asking if I’d gotten the sweatshirt he’d mailed to me weeks earlier (one of his that I loved and he’d wanted to surprise me with). I said it hadn’t arrived and heard nothing from him after that.

“Just think of all he’s going through,” a close friend said when we did a deep dive into the situation. It had been well over a month since our last exchange. “He’s dealing with all of the ex settlement shit. He’d have to tell his family and friends he started dating the first woman he met – online. He has a therapist telling him not to get into another relationship right now. He knows you’re dating. And you didn’t text him on his birthday. He probably thinks you’re mad, that your friends hate him, that YOU don’t want to hear from HIM. Maybe he thinks you got the sweatshirt and never said anything. I think you should reach out and tell him you’re not mad, just sad, and hope he’s healing.”

I took a deep breath. I’d already given her my rock solid counterargument of, ‘Or he’s over it, never felt what I felt, and I’ll look even more pathetic.’

Two days later, I bit the bullet and took her advice.

“Welp, the sweatshirt never came,” I texted, “but I promise I wouldn’t have burned it [like we joked about]. 😆 I was sad to not text on Valentine’s Day and your birthday, but I wasn’t sure what the right thing to do was. I feel like it’s important to say I’m not mad, just sad, and I hope you’re healing. ❤️”

I hit send and tried to come to peace with the idea that he might never reply. A little over five hours later, he did.

“Hi, thanks for texting it’s good to hear from you and I appreciate you saying that ❤️. I’m sorry I never resent [the sweatshirt], it just felt weird to me given our talk. It was a tough birthday this year but I think I’m doing ok. I hope you (and uncle Jesse) are doing well out there.”

I burst into tears which turned into sobs. His response felt so…distant.

…So I guess I’ll be buying my own sweatshirt.

I waited an hour and a half before deciding I needed to say more. What did I have to lose?

“I’d left the door open based on our last video chat,” I wrote, “especially in terms of keeping in touch (which is where I thought we’d landed), but have been interpreting the [six weeks of] radio silence to mean you’d prefer to not be in each other’s lives… Either way, the earlier sentiment stands and I’ll be thinking about you. ❤️”

He replied two days later with a typo-riddled message.

“Hi Jules, I know we did. I’m sorry I am not in a place to do that and I’m sorry that you are sad 😞. I appreciate that you are understanding of me and what I have going on.

“For what it’s worth I also want to say this because you should know it: I think you are an amazing person. You are super funny, I haven’t laughed as much in a long time. you are kind and thoughtful, I still feel so thankful that you put together all that food for my road trip. I appreciate you let [sic] me hang out with you [sic] friends who are all so welcoming, thoughtless [sic] and awesome people in general. I throughly [sic] enjoyed just talking with you and all our great conversations. I think you have great morales [sic] and love how you stick to them while also being understand [sic] and compassionate to others. You are also very pretty and I appreciate how you take care of yourself and Uncle Jesse ❤️”

I read his message twice, surprised when only a single tear fell. After another moment, I clicked ‘Archive,’ and after a few moments more, started to feel my heart lighten.

~*~*~*~*~

It’s tempting to give up, but with each heartbreak (this one arguably the worst since my divorce in 2014), I’ve started to better understand how our capacity to love expands indefinitely. Just as when we welcome a new child or pet into our lives, we don’t trade old love so we can afford to love this new being.

I know now that I don’t need to “get over” this love. I just need to make room for new love.

There’s always room for more love.
Blogging, Dating, PSAs

Dating: A Mental Load (of You Know What)

“So should we meet to grab a drink sometime this week?”

I’d lost track of the number of times I’d typed that phrase into the Hinge or Bumble chat box. Usually after a day or two of chatting, but sometimes after a multi-week, back-and-forth investment.

I wasn’t sure if it was my age (40), some sort of collective post-COVID social anxiety, or pure laziness, but suddenly the mental load of dating seemed to fall squarely on my weary, stress induced rash-covered shoulders.

“What is this?!” I cried to girlfriends during trivia last week, shoving my phone under their noses.

What are you up to this week? -Rich

How’s your week been? -Tom

How was trivia? -Ben

“All of them! All of them are doing this! And with these dudes, we’ve ALREADY BEEN OUT. And now they won’t stop texting! But they won’t ask for another date! I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS.”

“Did you meet them on Bumble?” one friend asked. “I have this theory that maybe it’s training men not to make any moves [since Bumble requires that the woman ‘make the first move’].”

“Some were Hinge,” I replied. “But you might have a point. I think I did initiate the first date in all cases. …Are they just not that into it? Back burner-ing? Friend zoning? Too scared to wind up on my blog?”

There had been an impressive uptick in Dates Who’d Discovered My Blog Before Meeting, after all.

Hi boys. Told you I always change names.

I sighed and put my phone back in my purse, trying not to think about the last three dates I’d line up – all canceled, by them, just hours before our meeting time. A bone deep weariness and latent anger threatened to take over as I recalled all of the recent dating disappointments – including one crushing heartbreak.

“Don’t worry. I understand women. Like I knew you took your purse to the bathroom just now because you have your period.”

Gross.

“You’re having so many bad dates because you need to improve your screening process.”

F&@% you.

“If you did run a background check on me, you’ll see that I have a restraining order out against me by my third ex-wife for strangulation. But it’s not true.”

Help.

“I’m just not ready for a relationship.” x 1,427

You don’t say.

Not just the mental load of making plans, carrying the conversation, and offering to pay (all still resulting in little more than the above), dating was taking its toll in deeper, identity-challenging ways. Had I lost my ability to read the room? Could I no longer tell the difference between sincerity and narcissism? Genuine interest and politeness?

Meet Cary, a first date from a month ago.

“Hey! I just got done with a long training run and I’m STARVING,” I typed into Hinge. “Any chance you’d be up for meeting at [x] or [y] restaurant instead of the whiskey bar? [Y] restaurant has a full bar! And I promise I’m not trying to score a free meal – I’ll even share!”

I pressed send on my message to Cary, feeling bold but a little bad about proposing a last minute change. Twelve years my senior and brimming with goofy photos and energy, I assumed he’d reply along the lines of, ‘I got upgraded from first date drinks to dinner on a Saturday night?! Score!’

“Y restaurant is fine,” he responded 15 minutes later. I gulped.

“I can try to eat quickly here and keep the original plan,” I backpedaled, a knot forming in my stomach. Was he really that stuck on the whiskey bar? Should I have kept my mouth shut since girls are supposed to be pretty and agreeable and never hungry?

“No, your happiness is important. And I’m easy.”

The knot grew and I shook my head. Certainly I was reading into what seemed to be “off” replies. Besides, I didn’t have time to worry about it if I wanted to finish drying my hair and keep our original meet-up time. I put on a fitted shirt, corduroy skirt and winter tights, leaving my hair down. I raced to the restaurant to make sure I could get a table for us and not cause any more drama with the change in plan.

Feed me.

A minute or two after 5:30, Cary walked in, unsmiling. The knot in my stomach became a full on Boy Scout lesson.

I’ve definitely earned the badge for this one. Photo by Will O on Unsplash

I sprung up and opened with my usual,

“Hi! Are you a hugger?”

Cary was much slighter than I had imagined and we hugged awkwardly.

“Are YOU a hugger?” he replied after we were already embracing, a tone to his voice that might have been teasing if not for the edge. I laughed nervously, failing to think of a witty comeback.

“Thanks so much for your flexibility with the change in plan,” I blurted as we sat down.

“Do you normally have trouble asserting your needs?” Cary retorted.

I blinked. This opening line rivaled, “You’re wearing gloves? Are we boxing?” and “I left my oven on.” Overwhelmed by rushing to the restaurant and thrown by his aloofness, I felt my eyes prick with tears.

“Well it depends… In dating situations, usually not…,” I started rambling. “Not with my family, especially not my sister. But with friends…” Could he tell how flustered I was? “Anyway thanks again so much for your flexibility! I’m so excited to eat! Have you been here?”

“Yeah, I actually live nearby,” Cary said, still not offering any smiles, a stark contrast to the silly poses in all of his Hinge photos.

Okay, so the location change shouldn’t have upset him… What was the problem??

“I guess I should order if you’re eating,” he continued, looking at the menu.

“Oh, you don’t have to! I’ll shamelessly shove food in my face by myself,” I joked to no effect.

“Do you care if I get beef tacos?” he asked, knowing I was vegan.

“If I cared about things like that, I’d be upset a lot,” I teased, still trying to lighten the mood.

“Okay, I’ll get fish.”

I stared at him.

“I was kidding,” he replied, and proceeded to order the meat tacos. And beer, despite me reminding him that they had a full bar and he could get the whiskey drink he so obviously had had his heart set on.

We carried on the kind of painful conversation you might have with a distant, visiting relative; plenty of questions asked, but only out of pure obligation. I couldn’t for the life of me pinpoint the issue, but I felt like the nerdy high schooler whose older cousin was forced to take her to prom.

When the waitress brought the check an hour and a half later, I quickly grabbed it.

“Ah-ah, this was my idea. I’ve got this.”

“We can split it,” Cary offered half-heartedly and I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

“Excuse me, I have to use the restroom,” he continued.

I grabbed the bill and ran it up to the counter, desperate to get out of there as quickly as possible. Cary didn’t walk me to my car, instead giving me another awkward hug outside.

“Nice meeting you,” he said and took off in the opposite direction like he had somewhere much better to be.

The whiskey bar, presumably.

I got in my car and stared at the clock. 7:15pm. 7:15pm on a Saturday night and I was alone. Thirty minutes later, I got an alert that Cary had messaged me through Hinge.

“Thank you so much for dinner. You are really sweet and kind. I don’t think we’d be a great fit romantically. [sad face emoji] And I want you to find your guy and get off the apps! It was fun chatting tonight and I enjoyed your company.”

No. He. Did. Not. I stared at my phone in disbelief. Pour a little salt in the wound much?! I gathered myself before uncharacteristically responding (given that my go-to move is silence).

“Haha yeah… I read the room and you immediately gave the distinct impression that you did not want to be in said room. No worries! Take care!”

I put my phone down, poured a manhattan, and fired up Emily in Paris – a mental load-free plan that never disappointed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Blogging, Dating, PSAs

It Was Me All Along

DISCLAIMER: Names changed or omitted.

“The Starfish poem brought you to me. And I think there’s something really important to that. This week, I want you to remember: If nothing matters, it’s just as likely that everything matters.”

The blinds were drawn over the huge corner windows, but even in winter, the high desert sun made the room feel bright and warm. Several starfish paintings dotted the light blue walls.

I nodded, tears pooling in my eyes. I looked at the ceiling to try to keep them from spilling over. The inside of my mask was already wet with an hour’s worth of feelings.

My therapist, Denise, got up from her chair and walked over to her computer, which sat atop a large wooden desk in the far right corner. Our meeting that day had been unlike previous ones. Instead of regaling her with my ridiculous dating stories, as I’d done during the previous two sessions, I had finally caved.

“Sometimes I just don’t see the point of any of it,” I had confessed. “Sometimes I just don’t want to be here anymore.”

Denise promised she would push me harder in future sessions so I wouldn’t avoid the most painful feelings and confessions. I carried her parting words with me as I faced another long week of uncertainty and self-doubt.

Over the past few months, I’d thrown myself back into the dating ring with a fervor usually reserved for boy bands and baked goods. The experiences ranged from barely noteworthy to fascinating to gut wrenching, and my self-esteem wavered at every turn.

Will I ever find my person? I wondered day in and day out. I couldn’t possibly put forth more effort. Between scouting out potential matches on dating apps to getting gussied up every other night to actually going on dates, it was as though I’d taken on another full-time job. Surely it was bound to pay off.

I’ll pray. I’ll light candles. Sweet baby Jesus take the wheel.

As the weeks passed and nothing quite took off, I found myself returning to a well worn narrative: I’m not good enough. I’m too old. Too fat. Too broken. No one wants me. This is impossible. After my divorce and two soul destroying break-ups in 2014, this belief had taken a new, more powerful hold on my heart, and even years later, I struggled to break free of it.

Following my latest therapy session, I suddenly stopped in my tracks. I considered Denise’s parting words, which I’d begun to apply to everything abstract: If you think [x extreme belief] is true, then you have to give equal weight to the possibility that [y exact opposite belief] is true.

If no one wants me, then it’s equally possible that everyone wants me.

I chuckled, and from this new objective standpoint, I reviewed the past three months. There was the adorable Canadian. The 20-something “Darren Criss.” The rock climber. 6-foot-4-four “Brody Jenner.” The engineer. The guitarist. The professor. One of them even gave me a [much-needed] vacuum.

That date didn’t suck. Ba dum tss!

In my mind, they had all been out of my league. And they liked me! They wanted me! By and large, I had turned them down because we just weren’t a good match. As much as I hated the need for external validation, I couldn’t help but marvel at this new, shiny evidence.

For the first time, I saw just how much credence I’d given to untruths. For so many years, I’d taken myself out of the Love Game because I was absolutely and utterly convinced that anyone worth dating would never want to date me.

“How does, ‘I am worthy of love’ sound?” Denise had asked back in October, during one of our initial therapy sessions. She had been helping me uncover my core issue, which appeared to be rooted in worthiness.

I nodded and she handed me a contraption that I jokingly referred to as The Ovaries. One of Denise’s methods was EDMR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing), something I’d never heard of or tried before until coming to see her. Supposedly by holding these small, vibrating disks while thinking of a triggering memory and repeating my new mantra, “I am worthy of love,” I could begin to rewire my brain.

For just $457, you too can feel worthy of love! Source

“I’m open to trying anything,” I had assured Denise when we’d first met. Aside from traditional talk therapy, over the years I’d experimented with everything from hypnosis to reiki healing to past life regressions.

As I felt the plastic disks gently vibrate in my palms, tears rolled down my cheeks. I thought of chubby, smart, stubborn grade school Jules, bullied by the girls who used to be her best friends. I am worthy of love. The family and friends who shunned me after my divorce. I am worthy of love. The grown women who bullied me as an adult. I am worthy of love.

“Okay,” Denise said after a few minutes. “Take a deep breath in through your nose, and out through your mouth.”

I obeyed, feeling like I’d just run an emotional marathon. We repeated the exercise a few more times.

“Now how would you rate the emotional charge when you think of [your most recent triggering experience], on a scale of 1 to 7. We started at a 6,” Denise reminded me.

“Um,” I thought for a long moment. “A 2?”

“That’s a big change,” she replied softly, nodding.

“I’m just looking for that feeling again,” I wept later in our session. I had been describing a person I’d met several months earlier who’d completely taken me by surprise. While it ultimately didn’t get off the ground, it had shaken me to the core and opened my eyes to romantic possibility in a way I hadn’t seen since my divorce. “It was effortless and I didn’t question any of it.”

“You know that had everything to do with you and nothing to do with him,” Denise said, a notebook resting on her left knee.

I furrowed my brows and started to protest before going silent. That can’t be right. It was him. He was amazing. He made me feel that way.

The longer I sat with this new, opposite, y-type idea, the more it made sense. As the weeks passed, I thought about the poem that had brought me into that office in the first place. A poem I’d memorized in first grade and that I’d lived by ever since. Two months earlier, I’d spotted that same poem on Denise’s website home page and knew I’d found the right therapist.

I found a tiny starfish

In a tide pool by the sea

I hope whoever finds him next

Will leave him there, like me!

And the gift I’ve saved for you?

The best that I can give:

I found a tiny starfish,

And for you, I let him live.”

–Dayle Ann Dodds (excerpt)

Our thoughts, feelings, and actions are always about us. We choose to love or hate, regret or move forward, consider others or turn a blind eye. We can save every starfish or none at all. Each of us has such power and such inherent worthiness.

Why not choose to believe it?

Foster Reservoir, Foster, Oregon. Dec 2021.

~*~*~*~*~

Blogging, PSAs

Progress Doesn’t Have to Taste Like Bird Food

Go Jules Go title graphic_Progress doesn't have to taste like bird food_29JUL20

*beep beep beep beep*

I reached over and silenced my phone’s alarm, Uncle Jesse barely lifting his head in acknowledgment. As soon as I got out of bed, he stood up, stretched, and curled into a ball right on top of my pillow.

00000img_00000_burst20200313132654888_cover

“Not today, Uncle Jesse, you’re coming with me,” I said, shuffling over to my dresser and yanking out a pair of clean black stretch pants.

Hearing the upbeat tone of my voice, he jumped off the bed and eagerly sniffed the clothing in my hand. Deeming the scent what must have been ‘baked-in exercise funk,’ he twirled in a circle and began his stretching routine.

Uncle Jesse gorge 29FEB20
I LOVE YOUR FUNK.

It was 7:15am on a Sunday and Bend, Oregon’s high desert summer sun had finally worn me down. “I WILL go running before it feels like Satan’s belly button,” I had vowed the night before as I’d set my alarm.

When our run was over, I fixed a healthy breakfast and set to work on my latest project – another course with Plant-Based with Robin: “Is that Bird Food?” I was excited about this one.

Is That Bird Food AD - Aug 2020 promo
And not just because Canva graphics make me look like I know what I’m doing.

By the end of the day, I felt proud, strong, and accomplished. …Until about 9pm. When I wanted snacks.

All the snacks.

Instead of putting myself to bed -for an even earlier, harder work-out the next day- I caved.

Toast sounds great. And those peanut butter pretzels… Ooh and that chocolate Kate just sent from Germany!

00100lrportrait_00100_burst20200723121533132_cover
I mean gifts don’t have calories, right?

I went to bed full, and full of knowing I’d be unhappy with myself in the morning. On the heels of last week’s shame spiral, I wondered how I could let such a good day slip through my fingers in its final moments.

Was it anxiety? Lack of willpower? Plain ol’ fat-sugar-salt addiction?

Or had I subconsciously decided at some point -based on my unique blend of childhood experiences and genetic make-up- that my ‘ceiling’ was this? Living somewhere halfway between my old life and my new, not quite fully realized, new one?

Go Jules Go: Before & After(ish)

Robin and I have talked a lot about progress vs. perfection as we develop our plant-based living courses.

“I get it. We all have those days,” I said in our first course [about easy meal ideas during quarantine]. “So plan for them. Are you going to be running around all day on Wednesday? Social distance happy hour-ing on Friday? Get the frozen pizza, get the margarita. Plan on it. Work with your schedule and preferences instead of against them.”

It was easy to give this advice, so much harder to swallow it myself.

One thing had changed, though. Instead of thinking that all hope was lost (“what’s the point? Might as well eat nothing but fried Oreos!”), instead of making a series of harsh, empty promises (“tomorrow I’ll eat nothing but lettuce”), I laid my head down on Sunday night and thought, just as I had after last week’s disastrous outing: Tomorrow is a new day.

And isn’t that what progress really looks like?

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Blogging, PSAs

I Cried in a Bar…Twice.

Disclaimer: Names and identifying features changed or omitted. 

Go Jules Go title graphic_I cried in a bar. Twice_21JUL20

Ugh. No.

I pulled off the offending lace tank top and hung it neatly back in the closet, pausing to admire the uniformity of my new wooden hangers. I’d always wanted matching wooden hangers and a closet that looked like a high-end boutique shop. I might not have achieved the latter when I moved to Bend, Oregon last year, but the hangers?

00100lrportrait_00100_burst20200719154538586_cover
Flawless.

I tried on two more shirts, holding a small mirror in front of my face and glancing backwards into my full-length mirror.

Go Jules Go Mt Bachelor 2 June 2019

Do my arms really look like that? And my back? Is it the bra? Oh god. I can’t wear my hair up like this. Look at my double chin.

I yanked the bobby pins out of my side bun. Two months of calorie counting, weight lifting, yoga, and running 50 miles a week, and the reflection in the mirror still betrayed me. I settled on a red floral shirt, dark wash jeans, and a low ponytail.

“I’ll be there at 4:30 to pick you up, if that still works,” I texted my friend, Meghan.

“What are you wearing?” she replied.

I snapped a selfie, strategically cutting out my arms, and surrendering to the fact that this was just as good as it was going to get today.

img_20200718_160433

When I pulled into Meghan’s driveway, she stepped outside in a jaw-dropping maroon dress, her hair and make-up perfect. Playboy bunny meets red carpet knock-out.

“You look gorgeous, as always,” I said, popping out of the car to give her a hug (we had decided weeks earlier that we were definitely “COVID family,” thus able to enjoy embraces).

I hoped I sounded sincere, because I was. Even if I suddenly felt even older and haggier than ever before. We spent the late afternoon enjoying outdoor live music at a lake lodge, every head turning as Meghan walked by, two men even stopping to ask if she was staying at the lodge. The afternoon beer eventually turned into an al fresco “frosé” (frozen rosé) at a bar closer to home.

Frose
Okay then. I guess it’s a thing.

“Those guys keep looking over here,” Meghan giggled, her eyes fixed on a few men behind me.

I tried to casually pivot, turning back to Meghan with a grin.

“You can say that again.”

“They’re leaving now,” she whispered a minute later.

One of them paused in front of Meghan, the final traces of daylight catching his rugged stubble.

“I just have to tell you, you look great,” he said earnestly, staring Meghan down.

“Thank you so much,” Meghan replied, her picture-perfect smile and big, bright eyes shining. “Where are you from?”

“Seattle,” he replied. “I’m here for a bachelor party and leaving tomorrow.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Meghan said, a wink in her voice. “What’s your name?”

“Scott,” he answered. After an awkward half beat, he glanced my way.

“I’m Julie,” I heard myself say. “Jules” felt too unfeminine.

Jules COVID mask from Sarah
I’ll just be over here. Behind my mask.

He immediately returned his attention to Meghan and I downed the last of my frosé. After he left, the server started putting up chairs and wiping down tables.

“Want to try The Lot?” Meghan asked, referring to another outdoor bar just two blocks away. “I think they’re open ’til 10.”

It was 9:30pm, which is when most of Bend shuts down on a Saturday night, international pandemic or not. As we headed to The Lot, a young man shouted out his car window to ask where we were going, his gaze fixed firmly on Meghan.

As soon as we reached our destination and approached the bar for a drink, three men descended.

“You have to come sit with us,” they insisted, practically dragging Meghan to their table.

I waited for our drinks and then sat down next to Meghan, tugging my high-waisted jeans over my gurgling stomach. We had skipped dinner and all I could think about was my couch, my dog, and the delicious cauliflower pizza I wished I was eating.

00100lrportrait_00100_burst20200719154458421_cover
I’m coming for you, fake pizza.

Within five minutes, the three, scruffy-haired, patchouli-drenched men offered us mushrooms (which we politely declined) and told us about their Pacific Crest Trail through-hiking adventure.

“Because of those six months, we really learned how to read people,” the tallest, and youngest, of the crew said.

The cutest guy in the group had already cornered Meghan, forcing me to face the remaining two intoxicated men on my own. This is so not where I want to be right now.

“For example, I can tell that she,” the scruffiest and oldest one began, nodding towards Meghan, “is way more open and spontaneous than you. You’re really closed off.”

He went on for a minute and now had Meghan’s attention. Is this really happening? Are they going to keep talking about how this bombshell next to me is superior in every way, including her entire essence? 

“That’s no way to live,” they both went on. “You’re clearly so rigid and uptight.”

Meghan took one look at my face and interjected,

“We need more people like Jules. Jules is one of the greatest people I know and I always tell people about the dinner party I invited her to when we first met. She showed up with so much amazing wine and food and even labeled it in case anyone had allergies.”

Soy chorizo roll ups with ingredient card
Yeah. It’s kind of a thing I do.

By then I’d missed my opportunity for a graceful escape to the bathroom. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I am 38 years old, crying in front of strangers. In the middle of a bar. I eventually made it to the bathroom, with Meghan, and found myself saying,

“Yeah, I guess we can go with them to the dive bar downtown.” I can’t ditch you, and maybe I can redeem myself.

An hour later, Meghan was missing and Mushroom Man #3 was two inches from my face, shouting over the blaring music.

“I need you to hug me and prove you can connect on a deep, genuine level with another human being.”

“I’m good, thanks,” I said, staring at the shot of whiskey he had given me.

“Come on,” he persisted, and I wound up with my arms around his short, solid frame. A decision I’d later regret for many reasons, not the least of which involved reeking of incense for the rest of the night.

incense-milada-vigerova-Kfn2n0p6Lgc-unsplash
WHY DO YOU SMELL SO BAD? (Photo by Milada Vigerova on Unsplash)

He wouldn’t let go, so I eventually pulled away, knowing I had -purposely- not given him what he was looking for.

“See, that still wasn’t genuine,” he said. “You’re so closed off. You’re living your life all wrong.”

“I think we’re more alike than you think we are,” I replied, knowing all of the bold, terrifying leaps of faith I’d taken over the past several years.

“No, we’re nothing alike,” he retorted, staring directly into my eyes. “You’re never going to experience what life has to offer if you don’t open up.”

My eyes filled for the second time in as many hours.

What if he’s right? Why can’t I be one of those women who goes on spontaneous camping trips, seduces strange, stubbly men, and embraces her mismatched hangers?

…Why can’t I be a little less me and a little more Meghan?

As I felt the hot tears trickle down my face, Meghan returned.

“He’s being mean again,” I said shakily, reduced to a toddler’s verbal range. “So I’m leaving, and you can come if you want.”

I bolted out the nearest door and pushed through the 20-somethings scattered on the bar’s back deck.

“How the hell did this night happen?” I wondered as I made the long, solo trek back to my car, choking back sobs and grateful that I’d sobered up so I could get home safely.

As I passed through Drake Park, the midnight sprinklers pivoted, drenching me. I almost laughed. Well isn’t this cinematic. I pictured the scene from The Holiday where Kate Winslet bends over her gas stove range, turning on a burner and inhaling deeply. She quickly chokes, running to the window, cracking it open and sighing,

“Low point.”

Kate Winslet The Holiday low point

Low point, Julie Jules, low point.

As soon as I got home and opened my apartment door, Uncle Jesse lavished me with licks and whines, watching curiously as I sat on the couch and wept – as deeply and fully as I’d wanted to all night. When I ran out of tears, I went to the fridge and fixed my long-awaited dinner, surprised that I had no urge to open a bottle of wine.

The cauliflower crust immediately crumbled into 17 pieces as I tried to flip it and I felt like crying all over again. Why does everything always fall apart?

00100lrportrait_00100_burst20200714191651803_cover
Holy melodramatic, Mom.

“I’m home, are you okay?” Meghan texted a little after 1am. “I’m so sorry I didn’t leave with you. I came outside, and you were already gone.”

“I’m glad you’re home safely,” was all I could manage.

I collapsed into bed a short while later, clinging to my favorite life line as I drifted into dream land.

Maybe this will all be funny tomorrow.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Blogging, PSAs

Calling All Creativity

Go Jules Go title graphic Calling All Creativity_8JUL20

“This is one of the highlights of my week,” I grinned, staring at my laptop camera lens. Does it look creepy when I do that?

“Mine, too,” Karla replied with trademark sincerity.

We said goodnight and each retreated back to our respective lives – mine in central Oregon and Karla’s in central New Jersey.

“The tacos here are amazing,” Karla gushed.

“Oh my god, I love them, too,” I agreed. 

We both spoke loudly over the din of a sprawling Mexican restaurant known for their cheap -but strong- margaritas and piping hot, freshly fried tortilla chips. 

“I used to be a cruise ship director,” Karla began once our food had arrived. 

I nearly dropped my fork. Whenever I was forced to dine dined with my Big Pharm colleagues, stories usually began with, “I majored in biology in college” or, “I first discovered my love of Bunsen burners when…” I would smile and nod and wait for the inevitable confusion when I shared my own background: “Well… I have a degree in creative writing…”

Karla finished her story and I stared at her for a long moment.

“You HAVE to turn this into a memoir.”

“You know, I’ve always thought I might do that,” she said.

And thus, a creative seed was planted.

That was 2011, and it would take nine years, but eventually the universe brought Karla and I together with the joint purpose of nurturing that seedling.

It all happened after I began teaching a creative writing coaching class.

Seriously Funny Blog Widget

When Kris Tucker, an instructor from my Masters program and founder of Creative Writing with Kris, approached me about teaching the class, I felt utterly unqualified and certain it would lead nowhere. But before long, someone signed up. And then Karla signed up.

“Oh my god, is it memoir time?!” I wondered.

Karla cheers
You bet your sweet chipmunks it is.

Suddenly, all of the stories that had peppered our conversations for so long began taking form. Karla was turning out page after page. It was happening.

“That’s the thing about dreams,” I said one evening to Karla during a weekly video chat. “They never go away.”

Dreams will haunt us or heal us, and we have the power to decide which one it’s going to be.

Whether or not your dreams feel “artistic,” rest assured they’re steeped in creativity, and our world would be a little less colorful without them. We need them brought to life just as much as you do.

When I started this blog nine years ago -another small, seemingly insignificant act- I had no idea it would change my entire life. And you don’t have to know either. Just start somewhere. Anywhere.

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My very first blog post. Don’t be afraid to leverage pets and/or children.

And speaking of helping each other realize our dreams…

If you’d like to help artists struggling during the COVID-19 crisis, here are a few handpicked places where your generosity will be put to good use:

Artists Relief fundraiser logo

Artist Relief

Endorsed by The New York Times, Artist Relief will distribute $5,000 grants to artists facing dire financial emergencies due to COVID-19; serve as an ongoing informational resource; and co-launch the COVID-19 Impact Survey for Artists and Creative Workers, designed by Americans for the Arts, to better identify and address the needs of artists.

Arts Leaders of Color Emergency Fund

Arts Leaders of Color Emergency Fund

Through their GoFundMe page, you can help the Arts Leaders of Color reach their $100,000 goal in support of BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, People of Color) artists AND administrators (consultants, facilitators, box office staff, seasonal/temporary employees, etc.) who have been financially impacted due to COVID-19.

Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS’ COVID-19 Emergency Assistance Fund

If you’ve ever experienced the awe of watching the curtains part on a Broadway (or any live) show, you’re probably having trouble imagining a world where all of New York City’s iconic theaters have gone dark. Help shed a little light by donating here. Your support will provide urgent additional resources for the vital social service programs of The Actors Fund, including emergency financial assistance, health insurance, counseling and the operation of The Friedman Health Center for the Performing Arts.

For more ideas on ways to help artists, check out this wonderful blog post.

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Blogging, Lists, PSAs

Staying Power: 6 Tactics for (Y)Our Advocacy Long Game

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Photos: “Wall of Love” by Westfield, NJ residents. Photos taken by me in Feb 2018. 

Like many of you, I’ve been struggling lately with how best to contribute in the march for equality. I thought about skipping this week’s blog post altogether. After all, how could I, a privileged white woman with a blog about her chipmunk fascination, possibly add value?

If I shared good news, I risked gaslighting the very real struggles and heartbreaking treatment of people of color. If I continued to avoid the topic, I seemed tone deaf, or worse, unaffected.

And then it hit me.

My place has never been on the soapbox, but rather by your side, offering encouragement and support. To each of you who has participated in peaceful Black Lives Matter demonstrations, thoughtfully shared fact-based posts and articles, and stood in solidarity against systemic racism: thank you.

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Turning this ship around, however, will require incredible, consistent, compassionate resolve.

In my years of human rights, environmental protection, and animal rights advocating, bearing witness to unspeakable suffering as I earned my Humane Education Masters degree, I learned a number of strategies that have given me staying power. Perhaps some of them may serve you as you help light the path to peace.

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Disclaimer: I can only write from a place of white privilege, with the sincerest hope of helping readers in a similarly privileged position. Together, if we can avoid burn out-inspired apathy, we can continue to stand up for love, equality, and chipmunks justice.

1. Advocacy starts at home.

There are emotional stages as you process the kind of horrific information that leads to activism. You may want to yell, fight, and/or tell everyone what you’ve just seen or heard. Remember that being a good advocate means being good to the people within your direct sphere of influence. They didn’t ask for, and likely won’t benefit from, lectures or condemnations. When you feel frustrated by “unwoke” friends or family members, remember that they might just be the perfect practice. First and foremost, model the compassion and change you want to see right where you are. At home.

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2. Consider reframing: what are you fighting against standing for?

Have you ever heard the story about Mother Teresa being asked to march against war? “No,” she allegedly said, “But I WILL march FOR peace.” (Even if the quote isn’t hers [though a number of online sources seem legitimate], my point still stands.) Sometimes this simple reframing can reinvigorate your passion. By moving away from words like “fight” and “battle,” I believe we can achieve the same end (and have a lot more staying power while doing so): peace and equality.

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3. Take a break when you need to.

While this can certainly be considered a privileged tactic, please don’t let anyone, most especially that nagging little voice in your head, tell you that you’re “failing” if you decide to take a break from active campaigning, the news, and social media. If you consider yourself a remotely sensitive person (and I’m willing to bet you do or you wouldn’t be reading this), you WILL NOT survive the long game if you don’t give yourself some time-outs. After all, even while you’re sitting down, you still stand for justice, right? (Sorry. So corny. The chipmunks made me say it.)

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4. Find your happy place.

Related to #3, develop your own personalized self-care strategy. Maybe it’s watching stand-up, funny cat videos, a hike, a bath, or a phone call with a friend. Advocacy burn-out is very real, and the world needs you at your best. Your joyful, laughing, hopeful best.

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5. Choose your words (and shares) wisely.

When you’re fired up, it’s tempting to share, share, share and comment, comment, comment. Sadly, this kind of activism often gets lost in the sauce. Your audience is far more likely to pay attention if you have a proven reputation of speaking and sharing thoughtfully and deliberately. And please, please, pretty please investigate your sources before passing ANYTHING along. (You should have seen me Googling that Mother Teresa quote…)

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6. Choose your company even more wisely.

One of THE MOST effective things you can do for your advocacy staying game is to surround yourself with positive, like-minded activists. The kind of crew whose energy invigorates and inspires you to be and do your best. Not sure if that’s the situation you’re in? Listen to your gut. When you picture a particular person or group, do you feel a tight, heavy feeling? Or a bubbly, effervescent one? …I think you know what to do.

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Whether this is your first or fiftieth time here, thank you for taking the time to read my blog. It means more to me than you’ll ever know. Now get on out there and BE THE CHANGE.

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Blogging, Lists

LISTEN UP! (Audio) Books for Summer Reading Season

Psst, before we dive in, I just have to let you know how excited I am about my new course with Plant-Based with Robin!

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Let us help. We love you.

Now, where were we?

Ah, yes, books.

Last week, I mentioned how I’d once given up my favorite pastime, reading. By the time I was about 15, I thought I was only allowed to read “smart” books. You know, the books on the 100 Titles to Read Before You Croak list.

Baby-Sitters Club books
Hang on. Are these not on the list?

And just like that, reading went from an exciting adventure to an excruciating chore.

While I’ve since liberated myself from the notion that I had to read anything on any list, I now experience a sort of late onset ADHD whenever I sit down with a book – no matter how fun and indulgent the title. (Weird, huh? I mean, it’s not like anything going on in the world would make someone feel anxious to the point of being unable to focus, right? ha ha…)

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How many do I have left?! HOW. MANY?!?!

Thankfully, with the advent of library apps like Hoopla and Libby (in which all you need is a valid library ID card to access thousands of free, virtual “borrows”), I’m now able to burn through dozens of audiobooks while I run marathons. I simply download the audiobook on my phone, then set it to airplane mode while I run to ensure I don’t drain the battery or my data plan. When I’m done, I delete it, freeing back up the space on my phone. Boom! (The only downside is that every ten seconds you’ll be forced to debate whether or not it’s worth stopping your running watch and covering your phone in sweat and trail dust to jot down the author’s truth bombs.)

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A little bit of foreshadowing here…

I’ve read listened to so many books over the past couple of years this way that, as we head into summer reading season, I thought it was high time I gathered my own list of Books to Read Before You Croak!

Side note: If your library offers a choice in apps, I find Hoopla far superior in both selection and number of borrows permitted per month, though the interface is less sleek than Libby.

Let’s do this.

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Disclaimer: The below recommendations contain affiliate links, meaning I may receive a small commission if you purchase any of the titles, but the recommendations are 100% my own and unsponsored.

To give this some structure, I’m organizing my list in the order in which I enjoyed these books (purposely leaving off the titles that, ah, didn’t speak to me…well, I mean, they spoke to me because they were audiobooks, but, OH MY GOD THIS IS ALREADY MY LONGEST POST OF ALL TIME AND I NEED TO MOVE ON):

2018-2019 Honorable Mentions

Becoming Supernatural: How Common People Are Doing the Uncommon by Dr. Joe Dispenza

Right up front, let’s get one thing straight: I’m into the woo-woo. All the woo-woo. And it took 36 years for me to admit that – even to myself. Now, as a gift to disillusioned, 15-year-old Jules, I let myself read alllll of the books that fascinate and delight me, even if others might call them foolish. And it has transformed my life. Becoming Supernatural is right at the top of the list in busting open conventional beliefs about who we are and why we’re here. If you think you can handle it.

Secret Lives of Introverts

The Secret Lives of Introverts: Inside Our Hidden World by Jenn Granneman

If you’re an introvert, or love an introvert, drop everything and read this. End of story. …Or is it just the beginning?

Emergence: Seven Steps for Radical Life Change by Derek Rydall

Based only on hearing that this was written by a former actor turned guru, you’d probably sooner eat wood screws than read this. But wait! I still think of this book regularly. The way Rydall describes human life compared to an acorn becoming an oak is… well, you’ll just have to “hear” for yourself.

The Happiness Project book cover

The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin

Narrated by the very likable author, Rubin’s year-long exploration of what happiness really is -and the daily, tangible ways you can experience it- is funny, moving, and interesting.

The 5 Love Languages by Gary Chapman

Oh, boy, did I ever think this former bestseller would be a clunker. (And sorry, Mr. Chapman, if your love language is also verbal affirmation. I, in fact, think this book is fabulous.) I stand corrected! I felt like Oprah based on the number of “ah hah!” moments this book led to.

Jan 2020

Sorry I'm Late Jessica Pan

Sorry I’m Late, I Didn’t Want to Come: One Introvert’s Year of Saying Yes by Jessica Pan

I’ve already written about how much I f@&$# love this woman and this book, so I’ll keep this short. This book is for everyone – introverted or not. Laugh out loud funny, relatable, and endlessly engaging.

Feb 2020

The Very Worst Missionary: A Memoir or Whatever by Jamie Wright

Similar to Pan’s memoir, this recounting by Jamie Wright gives you a no holds barred peek into her world – as the very worst missionary. Wright never shies away from telling the truth about what’s really behind some of the so-called “work” done in the Lord’s name, and she does it with the kind of acerbic self-awareness that makes a humor writer like me swoon.

Class Mom by Laurie Gelman

A cute fiction book about a woman who takes no small delight in her class mom role – emailing parents with often wildly inappropriate comments and suggestions – leading to, as you might imagine, some pretty amusing hi-jinx. This is what I’d call a “classic summer read.”

Furiously Happy Jenny Lawson book cover

Furiously Happy: A Funny Book About Horrible Things by Jenny Lawson

Fellow Blogging sensation Jenny Lawson details her struggles with mental health in a way that makes you laugh and cry – in all the best ways.

The Big Leap: Conquer Your Hidden Fear and Take Life to the Next Level by Gay Hendricks

Written by Stanford psychologist Gay Hendricks, this book exposes the many ways in which we put a “ceiling” on our own possibilities – including how happy we’re allowed to be. Even if you’re thinking you’ve heard all of this before, I promise you’ll gain some surprising new insights into why you STILL HAVEN’T FINISHED THAT G.D. NOVEL ALREADY.

Happy Trail: A Trapped Together Forced Proximity Romance by Daisy Prescott

Um… so… if you geek out on through-hiking, lumberjack chic, and lots of wood, go for it. Exactly the kind of romance novel you’d expect from the cover art.

Happy Trail Daisy Prescott book cover

March 2020

The Power of Moments: Why Certain Experiences Have Extraordinary Impact by Chip Heath & Dan Heath

The way the authors weave research and personal stories through this book is masterful. If you’re a teacher looking to blow your students’ minds, an office worker hoping to transform your organization, or anyone trying to create more meaningful moments with loved ones, I’m confident you’ll walk away moved and empowered by this book.

Normal Sucks Jonathan Mooney book cover

Normal Sucks: How to Live, Learn, and Thrive Outside the Lines by Jonathan Mooney

OH GOD THIS BOOK WAS SO GOOD. In this part memoir, part historical exploration, Mooney (a now-father raised by anything but normal parents) delves into the origins of normalcy in a way that absolutely blew my mind. While the tone is conversational, the content is rich with fascinating data. If you’ve ever felt misunderstood or ‘less than,’ this book will be your new favorite.

April 2020

96 Miles by J.L. Esplin

This is a young adult fiction title recommended to readers who liked Hatchet by Gary Paulsen. Um, helloooo, only my second favorite kid’s book of all-time! (Bested only by Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson.) It was gripping. I cannot believe it’s meant for 8 to 12-year-olds. It also includes some fantastic education around Type I diabetes if, as a parent or educator, that might come in handy.

Natural Born Heroes: Mastering the Lost Secrets of Strength and Endurance by Christopher McDougall

If you loved McDougall’s smash hit Born to Run, or anything by Bill Bryson, you’ll definitely dig this one. A true life historical recount told like an action-packed blockbuster, this book explores the ancient art of human badassery – though I can’t say I agree with all of the dietary recommendations near the end. (Here’s a much happier way to eat .)

When Breath Becomes Air Paul Kalanithi book cover

When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi

Whew. Grab the Kleenex before diving into this memoir by the late neurosurgeon, Paul Kalanithi, who passed away from lung cancer at age 37. He left us not only this beautiful book, but his shining yet realistic example of selflessness. (All the more moving thanks to the absolutely poetic closing chapter by his wife.)

The Road Back to You: An Enneagram Journey to Self-Discovery by Ian Morgan Cron

Whether or not you’ve ever heard of the enneagram model, this book is a fantastic read. Exploring the history and details of the nine personality types described by the enneagram, you’ll laugh (and groan) as you gain insight into what makes you, and others, tick.

May 2020

Year of Yes Shonda Rhimes
Photo credit

Year of Yes by Shonda Rhimes

I don’t know how I made it until May 2020 without erecting a shrine to Shonda Rhimes, creator of Grey’s Anatomy, Scandal, How to Get Away with Murder, and more. This woman OWNS primetime drama and is a beacon of hope for any female writer or introvert with a dream.

Kind is the New Classy: The Power of Living Graciously by Candace Cameron Bure

I know! DJ Tanner writes books (yes, plural)! I didn’t realize this until my friend, Sandy, mentioned it on her blog. Entering in with rock bottom expectations, I was pleasantly surprised. Cameron Bure’s got something. And no one can deny this woman’s work ethic. A little memoir, a little self-help, and a whole lotta Jesus… I’d read more.

The Empath’s Survival Guide: Life Strategies for Sensitive People by Judith Orloff

If, like me, you’ve ever described yourself as a “sponge person,” absorbing all of the energy and emotions of the people around you, you’ll adore this book. It’s woo-woo all right, and it explains EVERYTHING.

Girl Stop Apologizing Rachel Hollis book cover

Girl, Stop Apologizing by Rachel Hollis

I was late to the Rachel Hollis game, and apparently this is like her 47th book. Sort of a shrill Tony Robbins, admittedly, there’s no denying that Hollis MAKES SHIT HAPPEN. My inner project manager geeked out on this brutally honest, practical how-to, and I definitely recommend it if you identify as a woman stuck between dreaming and action.

June 2020

Reflections on the Artists Way Julia Cameron cover

Reflections on the Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron

Like many with a creative dream, I’ve been a HUGE fan of The Artist’s Way‘s 12-week program since I was a teenager. In this three-part audio series, Cameron addresses an audience, answers questions, and then faces a one-on-one interview – all in under two hours. I was delighted to find that I still have so much to learn from this prolific, spiritual powerhouse.

NEXT UP: The Dance of Anger by Harriet Lerner

Having just written about anger’s place in our lives, I’m really excited to dig into this. Stay tuned.

Happy reading!

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What are you reading lately?

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Blogging, humor

Ride or Die…Ski Lift Style

Go Jules Go Title Graphic Ride or Die_ Ski Life Style 29JAN20

This doesn’t look good. I should probably make the prudent choice and turn around. I’ve still got all week before the new job starts.

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Rain turned to sleet, then snow, as I wound my way from Bend, Oregon to nearby Mount Bachelor, the city’s crowning jewel. Every winter, thousands of locals and tourists flocked to the snow covered mountain to…shred…powder…or something.

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I don’t understand half the things people say and do here.

When I moved from New Jersey to Bend last June, I made several promises to myself:

  1. Cultivate friendships that felt like family.
  2. Pretend being naked in the middle of the woods was normal.
  3. Go backpacking.
  4. Start dating running again.
  5. Tour the west coast.
  6. Ramp up The Vegan Dollar’s YouTube channel.
  7. Try all of the winter sports: cross-country skiing, snowshoeing, and downhill skiing.

In other words: Do all of the things that petrify me. As of this month, the only two left on my list both involved skis. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it), Mt. Bachelor rewards new skiers with an incredible deal via their “Ride in 5” ski lesson package, complete with equipment rental.

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Gulp.

Because people swarmed to the mountain on weekends like Go Jules Go to compliments, I decided to attend my first lesson on a Monday. I had already talked myself out of it for two weeks. The memory of my one and only other downhill skiing experience was still powder fresh in my mind.

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Jules: Before [ski lesson, hiding in yurt].
I was 11, and somehow, in the course of two hours, managed to: drag my mother off the chair lift, crash into a fence, and fall down a ditch, requiring a pimpled, teenage rescue team. I’d always been considered an athletic kid, but apparently this was limited to swimming pools and soccer fields.

This past Monday, I turned left into the Sunrise Lodge parking lot, clenching and unclenching my jaw. Ten foot high piles of snow blocked any form of signage.

Seriously? They don’t tell new skiers where to go? This is a sign. I should just go home and hug my dog. 

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Snuggly dogs: a solid reason to stay within your comfort zone since forever.

Eventually -on the third attempt- I made it to the proper parking lot and found the check-in and rental office.

“You look excited!” the check-in employee exclaimed. He had clearly been born with a snowboard attached to his feet.

“That would be the sheer terror,” I retorted, feeling the wild look in my eyes.

“Oh no, you’ll be great! Let me just make sure I have all of your information… And what is your weight, my dear?”

I swallowed. I knew this was coming. I didn’t even lie, lest I increase my chances of death from 99.9% to 100%. Besides, it was printed right on my new Oregon driver’s license [because despite the endless smiles and generosity, they are MONSTERS here].

I was sure to tell everyone at the outfitting station that I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, my eyes darting frantically from the rows of skis to the exit sign.

“I think Matt Damon wore these in The Martian,” I marveled at my borrowed ski boots. They were harder to get on than pantyhose after a steamy shower.

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Right?

“NASA actually used ski boots as the model for their latest expedition.”

My head shot up and I looked at the guy who’d just made the remark.

“I don’t care if you’re yanking my chain,” I said. “I choose to believe you.”

“Do you want a helmet?” he called as I headed outside, shockingly heavy skis in tow.

I stopped dead in my tracks.

“You mean we’re not just practicing how to take these on and off today?”

I’d been certain that, in a package of five lessons, lesson one was simply: These are skis. See you next time!

He laughed and walked over to a giant wall of black helmets. “I think it’s a good idea.”

“I’m not gonna argue! Safety first,” I replied as he jammed a 47-pound bowling ball on my head. I had flashbacks of a similar moment preceding my epic mountain cycling fail. He tightened the chin strap and I waddled outside, almost an hour early and feeling utterly ridiculous.

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My helmet, in all its bowling ball glory.

By the time my Australian instructor, Rohan, introduced himself, I was so antsy to get moving that I shouted,

“I’m Jules! It’s great to meet you!”

Because it was a quiet Monday on the slopes, there were only two other first-timers in my class, a couple from Brazil, who chose to spend their week-long vacation away from their hometown beaches and…learning how to ski in central Oregon. I sized them up. We were all going to die.

The lesson was two hours long, and much to my dismay, in under an hour, our downhill ski instructor announced that we were going to ski downhill.

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For the first round, that meant riding this escalator death trap. Oh sure, it looks like it’s barely on an incline in this picture. WELL LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING IT WAS AWFUL. AWFUL!

After nearly falling on Satan’s conveyor belt, which jerks you forward as soon as you place your skis on it, Rohan decided it was time for the real deal. The ski lift. The part I had been dreading since my summer ski lift tour.

Mount Bachlor summer ski lift Aug 2019
Hey fellow family members with an irrational fear of heights, let’s soar over a mountain of lava rocks to the (near) summit with only a flimsy bar between us and the open air! It won’t be scary at all!

“I’m not gonna lie,” I confessed to Rohan as we boarded the lift. “I’m glad these snow pants are waterproof.” I glanced skyward and said a prayer.

Rohan held my arm as we disembarked and miraculously, I didn’t fall. By the second and third rounds, I was launching off on my own with all of the confidence of a newborn giraffe.

“Looks like you two ah friends nowah,” he said in his Australian accent, nodding towards the chair lift.

“I might even let it take me out for dinner,” I grinned.

At some point, Rohan had to tell me to slow down and prove I was still in control on the turns.

“Wheee!” I cried as I flew past him and he laughed in spite of himself. When we hit the bottom of the hill, I said, “Admit it. We’re the best class you’ve ever had.”

“I’m very impressed,” he smiled indulgently. “It helps that you’re all athletic.”

And suddenly, 26 years in the making…

REDEMPTION. Turns out..

…I LIKE TO SKI.

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Jules: After [ski lesson, manic in car].

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