15
Sep
2016
6

Travel alone. Come home. Find boyfriend. Travel with him.

Having a dog, a blog and a boyfriend who likes to hug you all the time is hard. Sure I’m not holding down two jobs, a mortgage and busload of offspring, but you only have to have one of these things in your life to appreciate it’s not all sunshine and alone time. Actually, I’m full of it, life is sweet and I have loads of sunshine and alone time. I’m just looking for an excuse for neglecting the blog. And that just comes down to the fact I’m living in a small country town, I’m uninspired and I have no friends.

jess-best-friend

Before I left London I was going on Tinder dates to get content for what I called “filler posts”. Because quite frankly, it’s bloody hard to maintain a blog about doing things outside your comfort zone when you live in a developed country, work an indoor job and surround yourself with loving friends and family. Going on dates with strangers seemed like an easy win because there are plenty of strangers and meeting up with them on the premise that you might like each other enough to shag or spend your life together is pretty awkward by my social standards.

But since I met my boyfriend I haven’t been allowed to go on dates. He is pretty supportive in most things but he just won’t support me going on dates with other men. I guess that’s fair enough, I mean I don’t let him eat Gobstoppers or drink Maccas coke.

dan

I’m about to go on a two week vaycay to the Philippines with him. He is pretty mad so I think he will be a good travel companion. Our itinerary is pretty jam packed with activities around city slicking, hiking, overnight bus riding, island hopping and beaching. We want to do things outside our comfort zones like slurp duck embryo, swim with whale sharks and take drugs, so if I come back sick, looking guilty or dead, you’ll know why.

There’s a truckload of whacky-doo things to get amongst in the Philippines and I can’t bloody wait to get there and find some sick-in-the-face stories to tell. Even if the weather is predicted to be stormy, rainy, stormy, rainy, lightning, thunder, stormy, rainy.

But who is this guy?

Maybe you’d like to hear the fantastically awkward tale of my first date with Daniel (if not, stop reading now). The date where I was too shy to eat the food, yet somehow ended up back at his place going to sleep on the couch holding hands.

convo
Well, to cut it short, I got back to my hometown and was starting to feel like a dog for a best friend was not enough. I knew Dan from school and always had this fascination with his serious and mysterious demeanour. I knew he’d moved back to the area so sent him a little text on Facebook. We exchanged meaningless messages for about a week and then he invited me for dinner. My plan had worked perfectly, only I didn’t want to go to dinner because no one except Daniel wants to go to dinner on a first date.

I rocked up incredibly nervous despite being three drinks strong. He was wearing a cap at the dinner table but I forgave him because he still sported a jawline that could cut through glass. We were both so awkward that it took four visits from the waiter and a threat about closing for us to eventually order food I barely touched.

Small towns like to shut down by 9pm so we were a little unspoilt for choice of where to continue the wine-fuelled conversation. He politely invited me back to his place for a beer I didn’t need but wanted because more time with Daniel. I remember sitting on the lawnmower in his garage, chatting about plants before he put a blanket over me as I closed my eyes on his couch. He lay down near me, but not next to me, and held my hand like a big non-creep.

dan-yabbymaking

Anyway, for our next date he came out to my house on a Sunday. We went for a drive looking for roadkill to put in the yabby trap he had built. He was catching yabbies from the dam for us to have for dinner because Daniel thinks dinner on the second date is cool too.

dan-yabby

And we haven’t stopped hanging out since.

He bought me a ticket to the Philippines for my birthday and like I said, he likes to hug me, like, all the time.

The moral of the story is, step out of your comfort zone by making the first move, go on one of the most awkward dates of your life and pretend to enjoy looking for roadkill, because you just don’t know what else you’ll find.

We found an old boot.

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5 Responses

  1. Can you please interview some over 50+ people so I can get a perspective on what upper Age people consider what might be daring to them? It would be interesting to me for you to include posts like that in your blog.

  2. Thank you for your stories, ~ You are young and daring and have not body injuries?? I think, as I do. I’m older, do not want to try so many things, but would like it if you would interview 60 year old women and men about what might be something they would consider “not living in their comfort zone.”

    This would be very helpful content for me. Maybe you can interview some people, both locals and Americans/ Europeans ~ on your holiday in The Phillipines.

    That would be most appreciated.

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