Archives: Trippin’

Growing up, the nearest worthwhile park was a 40 minutes bus ride away. It had a zoo with iron bar cages, a century-old carousel that made your hands smell like metal, and pony rides. It was where I learned to ride a bike without training wheels and discovered my love for bears and cotton candy.

It’s also the place I had one of my very first dates. We had agreed to meet up in the rose gardens. He was wearing a too-big button-down shirt with camels on it, slobbered all over my face, and almost caused me to swear off kissing forever. Almost.

 

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In retrospect, I’m glad I did come back from Montréal to interview with the company with the worst website I’d seen in a long time. If it weren’t for giving them a chance at making me quit full-time freelance, I probably would not have been able to go to the Stanley Hotel, or spend a whirlwind 48 hours in New York City, all within a month of each other.

 

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