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…