Get off my Jock

I don't think anyone can really relate to the hardship of "moving on," or "letting go," unless they have truly experienced large, traumatic losses.

I have been on the receiving end of unsolicited advice from several friends who, if I share with them some of my processing, they will interject that "maybe it's time you move on."

This is the single most frustrating, irritating and over time, infuriating comment. What is it that you think I am doing? I write, I talk, I cry, I am traveling, and I am working on myself. I sat in therapy every week talking about all of this stuff. So what exactly about any of that doesn't meet YOUR judgmental view of "moving on"? Do I need to have sex with, have a relationship with or marry someone else? Because I find that to be absurd. Why is there so much judgment in the process of healing? Why can't each person just experience it at their own pace, and in their own way? Why do we need to project our own world view on other people? What benefit does this service to the healing person? Other than to feel judged? I carry with me so many nasty, hurtful, judgmental comments forced upon me by well meaning friends. They are not helpful. In fact, they can be debilitating.

I am assuming these people want me to become intimately involved with someone new. This is incongruent with my personal beliefs. I could not hold hands, kiss, or spend any kind of intimate time with someone I wasn't developing serious feelings for; or in love with. I've never gone beyond a first date with someone I wasn't seriously interested in or who didn't have solid potential. But, if I have said, I am as emotionally available as a tree stump... then how could I be open enough with someone knew to explore that potential, or frankly, to even recognize it? It's a little absurd. Also, I would never ever do to someone else what has been done to me. It's wrong. I'm not emotionally available. I'm working through my baggage. No relationships for me right now. Which means, none of those other things that come with that. I need to be alone, or to move slowly. Just because your post relationship processing looks different than mine does not mean I am not working through it. It means we are different people with different values. Which is fine! I don't date for the sake of dating. That is wildly uncomfortable for me. I believe in dating with a purpose. Without that purpose, I feel lost. I see no point. I'm just wasting everyone's time otherwise.

So please, people who don't even read this blog... Get off my jock.

Break ups are messy.

I don't know what happened. I thought we were doing great. Now I'm back on my couch holding back tears and with a chest full of anxiety again. Grieving my relationship all over again. Feeling abandoned. Again.

Two weeks ago, Daniel waited around at the airport for at least an hour to pick me up. He was so nice. Full of boundaries, but we were good and I could feel the feelings still there. It was good. We texted that night, but, it was fine. Intense, but fine. Manageable. We were adjusting and that's hard.

Then he went to Australia. It was a cluster of a trip. On the way out there his flight got diverted to Hawaii for a medical issue with one of the passengers, and several attempts at boarding and unboarding the plane later, the flight was canceled and the passengers put on another airline. He lost two days of his trip. We texted a little, and all was fine. He was cranky, but that was it.

Then I noticed something odd. He seemed to have deleted a couple of my comments off his Facebook. Reflecting back I wondered if the jokes I made weren't appropriate. I am certainly guilty of that. So I tried to dial it back a bit. I don't comment often, or like posts often either, but I try to interact with him some. I love and care about him for one, and two, adjusting to being friends requires practice. So instead of being totally casual like I would be with a regular friend, I moreso just admired his posts and was pleased he was having a good time. Once every few posts I'd throw out a like. I noticed here or there it seemed like he was deleting whole posts after he posted them. I thought it was odd but I do the same sometimes.

Then my birthday came. No word. Nothing. It was my birthday. I really, really hate my birthday. I always feel alone and forgotten and unimportant. My family rarely calls, although they usually remember. I might not have told Daniel how I felt about my birthday, but it's more likely I did. And I mentioned it before he left also. He was on Facebook every day, so when my birthday came and went without a word from this dear person to me- I tried really hard to not feel wounded. I was surprised though, given how we had left things.

I went to that dance class the day after my birthday and messaged him about it- I had heard fun gossip about one of his favorite bands from my dance teacher. He never opened the message. It was just a silly, fun, friendly message. I was excited to share the gossip with him because it made me laugh. That was all. 4 days later and it had never been opened. But he was posting and commenting every day... But he was on vacation! So, maybe it was nothing. 

The day he was flying back to the states I felt this deep instinctual drive to check my SnapChat. He was gone. GONE. Maybe he had deleted his account? On my "people who have added you" list, his name was there. I was confused. SnapChat displayed him as "DanEHarm" which was my nickname for him in my phone all the way back last September. It looked like he had added me so I tried to add him back- user not found. Then I wondered if he blocked me. I looked at my contacts list again and his name had changed to his user name. It was the weirdest thing ever. Then he appeared as a "friend you aren't friends with," so I wasn't blocked, but I guess he deleted me. I was so confused. I woke up thenext morning wracked with anxiety. I had terminated therapy the day before my birthday, the week before- something I was really proud of! To go from non-functioning to functioning injust a few months. And laying in bed, holding myself I started to wonder if it had been a mistake.

I sent over a text asking if all was okay and that I was getting a weird vibe. His flight back had AGAIN been diverted due to a medical issue and he had gotten trapped in Sydney this time. I expressed condolences over the trouble. Message was never delivered. But maybe that was because he wasn't on Wifi. Who knows if his phone worked when he was in Australia. I don't know. I hadn't tried before. iMessage should have worked, but I don't know. But my mind started worrying he had blocked me. Where the hell is this coming from?

I tried to shake off my worries and reflected on things he told me about that time he withdrew from me in December. He hadn't known what to say. He didn't have anything to say. It didn't really have anything to do with me. So maybe I needed to just let him do his thing and take a breath.

Later on in the day he posted some fun photos (with snarky comments) on Facebook. I forgot myself and left some harmless, positive, totally appropriate comments. Things like, "At least you got more time to explore!" And "That's awesome! And your Sony camera, yay!" (I shoot Sony for my business.) A few minutes later the post popped up again. With no comments. I scrolled through again. My likes were there... but my comments had been deleted.

There was absolutely no denying something funny was going on now. And I have absolutely no idea why. Three weeks ago when I was in New York and he was in Eugene he was texting me love poems he had written and asking me if I still loved him. He had just picked me up at the airport two days before he left! We had talked that day! I am so baffled by what the hell happened.

When I saw the comments I left on Facebook were gone, I just shot him a message. "Did I miss something? Are you needing space? I'm super confused."

He immediately opened it, but didn't respond.

"Like always, just ask if you need something. I won't comment on your posts if that's some kind of thing. I saw snapchat too so I was already puzzled if that was a mistake? I thought we were good! So sorry about your flight, that super sucks! But it looked like your trip was great! :) "

He never opened the second message.

I have absolutely no idea why we are rewinding on 3.5 months of progress back to that horrific post-break up period. I don't want to go through that again. Now or ever. Whatever the deal is, just tell me. You met someone in Australia? You are feeling down? You have unresolved feelings for me and realized you can't be around me? I HAVE NO IDEA. But the passive aggressive deleting and ignoring and silent treatment is so upsetting and immature I cannot deal with it. He is such an avoider and I hate it. I HATE it. It's so upsetting. I don't want to do this again. I can't handle it. I feel so disappointed. But he also has to do this on his own terms. He has to fix himself. I can't fix him. So however he has to do this, that's his way. I guess. If I can just be here, and try not to take it personally, and know that he will be okay... Maybe I can pick myself up again after this. I just hope it doesn't get any worse.

Happy 33rd Birthday to me!

Did you really have any idea I was that old? I remind myself every day. But I also bathe in wrinkle cream so I really hope you couldn't tell.

My birthday was nice. Calm. Low key. It usually is.

I laid in bed as long as I wanted to, put a record on and made coffee. I opened a gift from my mom and just took my time getting ready for the day.  I headed to the gym in the afternoon and to Starbucks for my free Teddy Graham Frappuchino (off the secret menu!). I get it every year and I enjoy it so much! I had a bunch of trouble re-downloading the app and I got behind on schedule so I had to rush home to get ready for my dinner date with Brian!

Brian and I met in Winters to go to a Spanish tapas restaurant. His birthday was a couple weeks before mine and I had been in Cuba over that day so we both needed to celebrate. We got really great Sangria and had a bunch of food. The weather was nice, and we sat outside and just had a lovely, leisurely dinner!

More lies and on feeling disconnected

At the beginning of a relationship, there is so much hope; so much potential. The future is so bright and positive and just... delightful. Every conversation between Daniel and I was like magic. Even before I met him it was magic. Everything I wanted to hear he would say. There were few things that didn't match up between us and they were largely manageable incompatibilities; they were negotiable. We named our pet pigs for our future farm. We discussed baby names and life plans and when we would move in together. There was a plan. It was fast, but it felt real and natural. I had been down the road before and so had he, but it felt good.

Today, I feel like I am gripping handfuls of broken glass. This magic dream that floated just above my grasp last Autumn, just ready to settle into my palms, so peacefully, so naturally has just shattered into this painful shards. Now it's nothing but broken.

Daniel left for Australia last week. Just a vacation, but with the intention and goal of moving there later this year. Maybe it won't happen- I've heard the job market is poor. But he's a determined guy and if he wants to go, he will. Repairing our relationship has been bumpy but fairly steady. I don't know exactly where it's headed, but I have felt okay with that. It has felt like there is potential there and I have felt at peace with whatever way the wind blows us, as long as no doors are closed. With his intention of leaving the country however, it does feel like a door is slamming on any romantic potential between us. There just won't be time for us to sort through things before he intends on leaving. He needs to heal his heart, and we need to heal the wounds between us, and months is just not enough time for us to do that, AND to move forward into a place where moving together would be on the table.

His trip got off to a rocky start he had some delays on his US connections, almost missed his international connection- they mysteriously sat on the runway at LAX, then what should have been a direct flight to Australia ended up making an emergency medical stop in Hawaii due to a passenger on his flight, where his flight ended up being stuck for two days. The plane had mechanical problems and a few other hiccups and eventually United transferred the passengers to other carriers. He originally left the US on a Wednesday but did not reach Australia until Saturday. It was a tad wild. I smugly giggled more than appropriate over the whole thing (not the Hawaii is a terrible place to be trapped, but he missed a number of activities in Australia, as I am aware) and even told him, karma was getting him back.

The curious thing about this trip though, was I had asked him previously if he was going alone, or with a good friend (who he will be planning an extended 8+ week trip to Australia later this year) and he told me the friend was meeting him at LAX (flying from the east coast to meet him there) and they were flying together from that point. But... it was quickly apparent from social media that his friend was not there. As he checked in on Facebook, with other passengers on his flight, and complained, and posted photos, it was very obvious he was on this trip alone... And eventually reached his final destination alone. His friend engaged with him online with no comments about missing his flight or any similar complaint.... Which leads me to the only conclusion I can come up with. Daniel lied. Again.

I can't possibly imagine why. What a ridiculous thing to lie about. Why would I care if he was traveling alone? I just returned from Cuba (alone) the same day he told me this yarn about traveling with his friend. So why would he lie? I am so incredibly baffled about this. And I became.. almost instantly... disconnected from him. I'm not even quite disappointed. It's like my heart turned off. It's such a familiar poison as that which I experienced with Matt that my emotional response is all but absent. But I'm not exactly sure what to do with the information either. I suppose, logically, I need to hold off on any action until he returns, and then simply inquire. But I feel as though my hand is somewhat forced at this point, because we now have a pattern. A pattern I don't understand or relate to. An illogical, nonsensical, ridiculous pattern. A pattern of pissing all over a relationship that was magic and wonderful and emotionally connected. And now wasted. But if you don't have trust, and you literally cannot trust any words that come from your partner's mouth, even about silly things like their travel plans, then what do you have? I'm confident if I ask him what is going on, he will answer honestly, but I don't understand why his first impulse is to lie to me. Is it just me? Or has this always been a problem? Is this some part of the trauma of all that he has been through? I have no idea. I'm so... confused.

I feel very checked out. I can't really imagine what will happen at this point. I'm surprised this is where we are turning now. If you had asked me in September, October, November- any previous month, I never would have guessed any of the things that had happened would have happened... But here we are. Another plot twist. But at least I am still upright this time around.

The last time I saw Daniel

After the mix up with our dinner plans and airport plans when I was coming back from New York, Daniel agreed to pick me up late from the airport when I was coming back from Cuba. We talked about getting dinner when he came back from Australia a couple of weeks after that and I was pleased we were continuing to smooth things over. We had both been very communicative, he had met some of my friends when he was in Oregon for an environmental conference and even went to University of Oregon and saw my school. I was really excited to hear about what he thought about everything and was very excited about our little worlds converging. We were just on a friends level but it felt great and I was pumped.

I landed in Orange County, made it safely through security and checked in. He was all on for picking me up and was planning on hanging out in the wait-lot until I got my bag. I had bought rum in the airport and I had to check my bag once I got into the states since I had to go through customs because of the liquid so I'd have to wait around a bit once I got back into Sac.

It turned out to be super annoying and between a flight delay and my bag being the last bag down the chute, I was like an hour later than expected and I felt really bad. But he had also decided to wait AT the airport rather than just hang out at home (just 10 minutes away) so I figured that was his call, so I apologized but didn't dwell on it too much. He was game to come get me, and he decided he wanted to wait, so I decided not to grovel or be crazy like I ordinarily would have been.

I noticed over text though he was being really abrasive and I kind of got my back up. I had had no service in Cuba and we hadn't spoken in 5 or so days. It seemed to have been a bad thing... He was very distant. This was precisely what I had feared with him. He was checking out again. He needed that constant contact or he would throw me out and run away. I actually got upset enough over text over what I felt was coming I almost told him not to get me but then I thought- that's dumb. I need a ride and I don't want to spend another $20 for an Uber. Just let him pick me up. So I said nothing even though he was coming off as a huge dick over text.

I finally got my bag and tried to take a breath and think nothing of his tone. But then he pulled up to the curb... and didn't get out. I had a big back pack and a little bag and I had just gone to a third world country and had been flying for 15 hours, and... nothing. He sat in the driver's seat. So I quickly unbuckled my bag and heaved it into the back of the station wagon and dragged my little pack into the front seat and smiled... and said hi. ...He didn't need to help me with my bags. It just would have been nice. Or a hug or... I mean I guess we are exes and that makes things awkward. I was just hoping it wouldn't be. Let's just be friends. Treat me that way. Don't treat me like.. pond scum.

We made some conversation in the car, and it felt good to be near him. We chatted and he made a pit stop at the gas station on the way home. He got out to pump the gas and I guess I kind of sighed a bit. He must have been watching me because he immediately opened the door and asked if I was okay. He said I looked sad.

... It makes me laugh because he's so intuitive. Even when he was trying to hold me at a distance and throw up all of these walls, he still couldn't help himself! I unbuckled my seat belt and slowly swirled around in my seat so my legs dangled out over the concrete and I looked up at him "I'm just tired." And I smiled, and he smiled. And we relaxed a little.

We joked a bit in the car and talked a little more freely and it felt better.

Then we got to my house... and he made clear he had no intention of getting out or coming in. He hadn't been to my house since we broke up and he had tried to fix my computer a few days later. But I prodded a little- I had brought him something back from Cuba and wanted to show him what I brought home.

He finally said he would come in for just a minute.

We walked up to the front door and as soon as I turned the front door handle it was like ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE.

First the beagle howling and barking like a maniac.

Then the odor of urine hit my face. The entire house REEKED.

Then my eyes fell on the dog poop prominently piled in the center of the rug.

I ran around frantically opening doors while Daniel stumbled backwards as the smell hit him. I apologized over and over, stammering- so embarrassing. I flushed the poop and ran the dog outside to the bathroom. It was SO embarrassing. Literally this was the first time he had been in my home since our breakup and it was the biggest cluster. It smelled TERRIBLE. It was awful. But I didn't want him to leave. In retrospect I should have invited him to sit on the porch or something. Neither of us wanted to sit on anything- the whole house smelled so incredibly bad. I guess the litterbox was part of the problem but really the dog had had a lot of anxiety while I was gone and had been having accidents on my living room rug and the housesitter had closed all of the windows when she left and it just trapped all of the smell. Daniel stood there, staring at me, breathing into his jacket.

I can only imagine what he told people later. This was like the lowest of the low for me. I wish he had just laughed or said he didn't care or otherwise taken control or reassured me. It was so humiliating.

I was now flustered, so I had a hard time going through my bag but I finally found it- two small prints I had found at the Central Havana Market. They weren't very expensive but they made me think of him. I told him he didn't have to take them, but I bought them for him. He took them and said they'd go well with a poster he just got. I sort of wonder now what he did with them. I'd rather he give them back to me if he didn't want them. I don't know what his personal policy is with that kind of stuff. He has made clear in the months since our relationship is erased from his mind... So perhaps he destroyed them. I have no idea. But the artpieces were special. I don't know. Maybe I'm being dramatic. I suppose I bought them for him and he can do with them what he likes. I perched on the edge of the couch and we stood and we talked a little bit about his trip to Australia. I was just getting home very late on Monday night and he was leaving on Wednesday for Melbourne. It was all very exciting. I loved all of the adventures we were going on. It was wonderful. I had such a great time in Cuba and I was so excited for him to go to Australia- it was a lifelong dream for him.

We talked for a bit, and hugged and he finally left.


I never saw him again.

CUBA: Vinales and last days in Habana!

So I believe I had spent two full days in Havana and was basically done with it. On the third day I got up early and headed to the bus stop. But still not early enough. Even at 7am or whatever all of the tickets were sold out to Vinales.

Vinales is a little country town and supposedly in this valley that is the "Yosemite" of Cuba. But the buses being sold out was not a big deal- just tell the cabbies- or rather- stand there for two seconds and they will immediately accost you and try to sell you a seat in a collective. They always try to sell you a seat for like 3x the price right off the bat- which you should refuse and laugh at- "No, no, no I do this before." Then offer something at least 30-50% lower. The further away you move from the tourists the better your price will be. I think I paid 15CUC for my seat in a 7 person collective. Three french people had negotiated a 13CUC rate (each), two Germans had paid 15, and a Korean woman had been robbed blind at 20. When our driver (who looked EXACTLY like President Obama and we all discussed at length at how much he looked like Obama and all wished we were brave enough to take a photo with him) stepped out of the cab we all kept talking about it and tried to get photos. It was kind of crazy. Especially since Obama was about to come visit the next week! I got a really awful blurry photo from a distance, but really, just look at a photo of Obama.

That was a our driver. It took at least an hour or more for my collective to be put together and some of the people in the cab had pre-scheduled our ride. I got in the cab and then we got hauled all over town picking up people. I sort of low key wondered if I was getting kidnapped- it was close to an hour of pick ups before we finally got on the highway, but we finally got going.

About halfway there on the freeway, Cabbie Obama started having some trouble with the stick shift. (All cars in Cuba are manual.) He couldn't shift. And then suddenly the car got stuck in 1st gear. No joke. He couldn't get it out of first. We were miles and miles from Vinales. Another cabbie Obama knew saw us in trouble and said he would circle back and get us- since we were going like 20 miles an hour or something stupid. We were ALL DYING.

Finally at a certain point one of the Germans in the front seat said she had to pee and was going to pee on the seat if he didn't pull over and we ended up having like an hour long lunch break at a random rest stop. I had a nice grilled ham and cheese sandwich with everyone and we all chatted. It was exhausting to travel like that- but really memorable and pretty authentic! LOL Finally we got back on the road and made it into Vinales!

Our sweet driver, who spoke no English understood most of us had no casa reservations and knocked on some doors until he found some houses with openings. Literally every house in Vinales is a casa particulare- a bed and breakfast. The German couple and I decided to share a flat to save some money. They took a bedroom for 25CUC and I think I paid 20. Something like that. I had been paying 7CUC in Havana but for a tiny town like this I knew that was a fair deal.

 The German Couple and I shared the flat on the second floor. They had the front bedroom and I had the back. It had a shower too, but no soap that I can remember... I think I forgot mine in Havana! I had left all of my bags in the hostel back there, as I had paid up for my whole trip just in case. So I double booked, essentially. There wasn't any way to book ahead of time for Vinales so that was the best option at the time, and it all worked out fine!

 Our flat!

Also amazing was a woman across the street who spoke fluent English. Lisa (one of the Germans, who had done a large part of her undergrad at the University of Chicago and had a midwestern accent even!) and I wanted to go horseback riding, and the nice woman across the street had another cabbie pick us up in 30 minutes and take us to a local plantation. We got a cigar tour, a coffee plantation tour, and a 3 hour horseback ride. It was AWESOME. I think we paid 15CUC ($15) for everything. I ended up buying coffee for 6CUC which they sold me in a used water bottle, and some cigars. We literally watched them roll them. They were super high quality and the guy there was great. His family owned the place and everything you see in the photos was on family property. Nothing is commercial. Everything we bought went straight to the families. Average income in Cuba is around $20/month so doing these kinds of things plugs money straight into the local economy.

Rolling cigars.

Trying to smoke cigars without laughing. They dipped one end in honey and it was so interesting! Kind of pleasant. I am glad I tried it!

The coffee planation... Roasting beans was AWFUL! The smoke was so choking and triggered both mine and Lisa's asthma right away! It was terrible. I was glad I bought the coffee beans. You can see the water bottles they came in in the picture above on the counter. I dumped them into a plastic bag I just so happened to have for the flight home because I figured the bottle would be too suspicious. I haven't brewed them yet- I don't have a grinder! But I will! The bean roasting I will never forget though. What a terrible job. They had a teenage girl doing it and it was just awful work.

My horse went rogue for a minute and cut too close to some plants- and cut the crap out of my leg! I was much more assertive riding her after that!

Cacao beans! They don't use them for chocolate though- too hard to process. They said they use them for shoe products.

Hummingbird eggs!

We got back at dusk and got ready and then Lisa and her boyfriend invited me out to dinner! We all got cleaned up and ready for dinner and I took some pictures on the back porch while Lisa showered.

Pictures really don't do it justice!

So I had my "nice dinner" (a tradition on every trip I take) with them. I actually forget what I had though! But I took pictures of it! Lisa and her boyfriend were walking hand in hand down the street and I was walking behind them and some young Cuban guy ran up and walked along side of me and grabbed my hand so I wouldn't be alone. Oh my gosh I died. I just said, "No, no, no gracias." And laughed though, and he left. Lisa said she would not have been able to play it that cool, but at that point I was used to it. She said she hadn't really had any sexual harassment, but when we were out alone together the cigar guy kept bugging her to dance. Her traveling with her boyfriend had really made a huge difference in how much she was bothered- as in, not really at all!

Sort of what I am remembering is I had some kind of fried pork, a fried coquette thing, and a mojito. Mojitos in Cuba are interesting. Sugar is really expensive, but rum is cheap. So the drinks are pretty cheap and very alcoholic- but not very well mixed. The mint is always very fresh and lovely but they are so strong you want to water them down. But that's hard because the water isn't exactly safe to drink.

The next morning I had to go catch my bus back to Havana. Just a quick overnighter but I crammed lots into my one day in Vinales! Including a nice wake up call!

On the way back I managed to catch a bus, which was perfectly comfortable, but I sat next to a french woman who claimed she was in Boston during the bombings, in France during the terror attacks and in NYC during 9/11. I call BS. It was just weird.

 That whole minimal make up/no doing the hair thing really does notwork for me.

 There were  A LOT of wild dogs at the bus stop. And they all loved me.

The infrastructure in Cuba just sucks. Everything is on Cuba time. What should have been a 90 minute drive was a 4 hour bus ride because we stopped for an hour lunch break. These were our snack options.

I negotiated a cab from the bus stop, which is out in timbuktu, back to the Capitol. I said he could just dump me anywhere, which really confused the cabbie. I finally showed him on a map and he was like, are you sure, and I was like, si, si. And he was like, You travel here a lot?! And I was like, Ehhhh. Si. So he did it. I think I got him to drive me for 8-10CUC. I forget. I got a much better deal going back than getting out there. He said, if I give it to you for that rate I'm going to have to pick other people up. I said, no problem. So he said okay! And then he left me on the back side of the capitol. That wasn't my first choice but whatever. It was cheaper. Then I just beelined back to the markets to go shopping. I think this was Sunday afternoon and I wanted to get all of my shopping done as I flew back to the states (and through Mexico) the next day.

 This corn was actually more expensive than a homemade tamale. The corn is for tourists. The tamales are for locales. I think I paid $1 for the corn and 40 cents for the tamale!

Random parade I found.

At this point I ran back  to the hostel, showered, cleaned up, rested a bit and headed back out again. It was funny how different I got treated. I wasn't harassed at all when I looked like a dirty back packer but when I came  back out again freshly showered and in clean clothes I got yelled at every block. So much so I almost went back and changed into dirty clothes. But I wanted to be clean so I could pop into Floridtas and some nice places. So I stayed out and just suffered through it. Ugh.

 I found a different view of the waterfront, and where the cruise ships dock!

Florditas's bar, which was awful. I walked in, looked at the terrible menu and the awful prices and walked out. Not worth it at bit!

As I recall, I wandered around the whole rest of the day and tried to hit up everything I could have possibly missed.

I had dinner at a nice hotel and was really exhausted. I got a table alone and these ladies were super annoying and tried to move tables and sit with me- and I really needed to be alone. Plus they had been sitting alone. I didn't want to make conversation with someone in another language and I just wanted to eat my dinner in peace. I asked them several times to please go back to their table and finally burst into tears. I think I was just WAY overtired and over hungry. I had been up since 5am and it was now past 10pm and I hadn't eaten since early in the afternoon. They suddenly jumped to some crazy conclusion that my husband had cheated on me and left me in Cuba and I was getting a divorce and they swiftly switched table sand then I was very embarrassed. I had wanted to have a nice dinner but because I had sat on the patio, they would only serve me super simple sandwiches and they were out of half their menu already, which was frustrating. Then the men on the street started heckling me and I got really pissed. It was a really awful meal and I just can't say how EXHAUSTED I was. When the ladies went to leave they came over to talk to me and they cradled and hugged me about my "poor cheating husband"and I just burst into tears again. IT WAS SO EMBARRASSING.  I was so happy when they left and I finished my sandwich and could go back to the hostel and go to bed. OMG.

The lovely staff at the hostel made all of the arrangements for me to get back to the airport. They got a cab for me at like 3am and I gave the night guard and the day manager all of my remaining CUP since I didn't think I couldn't get it changed back to US dollars. They were great and I super recommend all of the vendors I used. I believe i stayed at the Paradise Backpackers Hostel.


My room!

And I made it back to the airport, all packed and in one piece!!

I was super worried about getting back into the US because the Cuban's had stamped my passport (they weren't supposed to- they just started doing that about a week before I came) but I stuck the pages together and bent open the Mexico pages really hard when I flew through John Wayne and nobody noticed or cared. It was great! I had a wonderful time and I am so glad I went and especially glad I went before it opened and everything changed. Travel ethically. Travel in a way that helps the local people!

 

I did also see the Venezuelan Olympian team!!!