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Archive for the ‘ Airstream Camping ’ Category

 

One Year on Wheels

May 27th, 2019
Navajo Lake (Brian Head, Utah)

I am often asked if I miss having a house. My gut response is rather defensive. I have a house. It just happens to be silver, sits on wheels, and can be transported to any desired location via my car. So, the simple answer is no, I do not miss having a house. I have one. If only life were as easy as the simple answers. The more complicated (and therefore, more realistic) answer is yes, I miss having a house. And I still don’t mean the thing with four walls and windows and a door. Don’t let me fool you—I am most definitely plotting my dream homes over here (yes, plural). One is a black A-frame... Read More

We’re All Bad at Dating

April 13th, 2019

A common lead question in the world of online dating is: “What are you looking for?” Aside from being a grammatical nightmare, this question poses its own set of anxiety-ridden answers. Because how hard in the paint do you really go in response to this question when you’re on the third line of a burgeoning digital transaction? The words that your thumbs manage to string together will inevitably become the foundation for any further communication (or lack thereof). Sidebar. Dude, didn’t you read my bio? It clearly states, “Looking for a real life human with whom to do rad things. Sucker... Read More

Breakdown of a Breakup

March 30th, 2019

The awkward silence that is currently sitting in the space between our souls is suffocating me. I jam my hands, like clockwork, underneath my thighs, forcing my back to press firmly into the wall of my 23’ Airstream. Outside it is snowing, and the aluminum panel transfers the exterior chill through the cotton of my well-worn long-sleeve pajama shirt. He is cross-legged in his black skinny jeans, surrounded by pillows, eyes darting from my face to his knees. All I can smell is clean laundry from the sheets of the bed that we just spent far too long making. We’ve never been here before (and we’ll... Read More

Laying the Foundation

March 8th, 2019

If you grew up in the 90’s and have never played out even a single moment of your life to Eminem’s “Lose Yourself” lyrics, I’m going to question the inner workings of your childhood. It was (or is) a rite of passage, and aside from starring in every one of my basketball warm-up mix tapes from the year it was released in 2002 until I graduated college in 2006, I can still hear the words playing in my ears through a variety of noteworthy life experiences. Spoiler alert. I’m from Basalt, Colorado. Not to be confused with 8 Mile. But, here, while cruising up Kensho chair in Breckenridge... Read More

The Courage to Question

February 20th, 2019

I have a confession. I haven’t been completely honest with you lately. I spent my last blog explicating a story about some guy in camo pants that would, quite literally, run into me in the singles line of my favorite chairlift. A guy that would inevitably save me from the digital dead zone of online dating. A guy who, at first take, would appear to be completely random, until we’d both divulge the calculated decisions we had made to get us into that same lift line on that same mountain on that very same day, and none of it would seem so random after all. As much I want to chalk this up to fantasy... Read More

Please Swipe Responsibly

January 24th, 2019

If you think dating is hard, try dating in a ski town. Population 4,896. The tourist game is so strong in Breckenridge that I can confidently proclaim that I’ve matched with more Texans in Colorado than I ever matched with Texans while actually living in Texas. For those of you unfamiliar with app dating, I’ll provide a crash course. Bumble gives the woman 24 hours to communicate with the man after a match is made (i.e. two mutual swipe rights). The man then has 24 hours to respond. Each user is given a daily extension, which will open the communication channel for an extra 24 hours. Once a... Read More

A Game of Numbers

January 3rd, 2019
crowd of blurred men

So, I’ve been dating. It’s a rather obvious statement, but I’m saying it here with a real air of assertiveness that lets you know that I’m “for real,” because dating is what I should be doing if I am blatantly putting out into the universe that I’d like a partner in crime. And, as painful as dating can be (and, take my word for it, it can be unbelievably painful), the only way to get better at anything is by doing it. Over and over and over again. So, I’ve spent the last few months committed to putting myself out there more as a means of sharpening the side of me that would rather... Read More

In the Pursuit of Home

December 20th, 2018

Four hours ago, I blew a fuse on my inverter. Four hours and twenty minutes ago, I didn’t even know what an inverter was or that half the plugs in my Airstream were powered by an inverter, which is monumentally different (and altogether far less powerful) than those plugs that are grounded. Learning. Don’t plug a space heater into an inverter circuit. If you’re worried about my lack of electric plugs at this point in the story, don’t be. My grounded plugs are still working and my Airstream itself has power (praise God because it’s a whopping seven degrees outside). The major concern here... Read More

Never Settle

December 5th, 2018

I spent the better part of this evening researching how to prevent an outdoor hose from freezing in extreme conditions with the intention of making it safely through my first winter as a full-time Airstreamer. This topic was quickly followed up by the Google searches “what is the best space heater for a travel trailer” and “how to skirt my Airstream.” Three hours into the interwebs and $427 later, I have gained an inkling of confidence that I might be able to make it out alive. Hear me when I say that “might” is the key word in that sentence. Dramatic? Maybe. But, with each place I... Read More

How I Know

November 15th, 2018
snowboarding in idaho

The smell of his leather seats lingers in my nostrils, a scent more intoxicating than the taste of the second round of Tito’s and soda that he’d slid to me across the marble countertop just an hour before. My hands are jammed underneath my thighs while my wavy hair slides haphazardly across my cheeks. His face is glowing in the redness of the stoplight; words are patiently waiting to escape his lips. And, I want to freeze here, in the magic and the madness, before those syllables roll off of his tongue. My sister loves you. My roommate loves you. And, they don’t understand why I can’t tell... Read More