So I’ve been living in Whistler for almost a month now, and
I’m pretty much settled into my routine. Work, eat, sleep. Starbucks Monday,
Library Thursday, groceries Sunday. It’s a slightly weird routine, since my
weekends are Sunday Monday, but it’s kind of nice not having to deal with
crowds when I want to go out.
Then again, there isn’t a whole lot for a girl like me to do
in Whistler. Shopping is expensive (and pretty limited to ski/snowboard/bike
gear), restaurants are expensive, and most people’s idea of a good time is to
go climb a mountain – or hurtle down it atop a bike. Sure, I have my
adventurous moments – I’ll never turn down a hunting trip to the bookstore –
but I’m what they call a bonafide city girl. Unless I can wear my heels and
there’s a guarantee that my hair won’t get wet then I’ll choose to stay home.
And the men here. According to my boss there are three types
of guys in Whistler: the snowboard bros, the bike bros, and intellectu-bros.
You can all guess how pleased I am trying to explain Tolstoy; the difference
between Scotch, Whiskey, and Bourbon; or reasons why one shouldn’t skateboard
in the library plaza to this lot.
At least I’m not being a total Carrie about the situation,
since I quite like the little squirrel who hops onto my balcony every few days!
As long as he doesn’t try to come IN to my apartment…
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