I'm back from my adventures in Ottawa. It could not have gone any better. Well, maybe one minor detail; my boss decided to come to Ottawa with us, which is great I've been harassing them to send someone with us on the road, but for the fact that my little date might have gone much later if she wasn't staying in the next motel room.

Let me explain. Time for the goods.

We get to Ottawa early afternoon, with enough time for me to take a nap, do some yoga, and really take my nice sweet time getting ready. Boy (yes I'll be calling him Boy for now) came to pick me up around 6 and we made our way downtown for some $1 oysters. I never had raw oysters before but I played along with the idea like sweet, cool, I'm down. We get to a pub called Fat Tuesday's and ordered a bunch of oysters and fried alligator bites, and washed it all down with some local brew which was excellent (Clocktower Kolsch, write it down). Everything was fantastic. We cheers'd every time we slurped down our oysters, which was pretty cute. I left with a satisfied stomach, a bit of a buzz, and some Mardi Gras beads :)

Then we went ice skating on the famous Rideau Canal downtown. It was something I had wanted to do since I was younger, when I saw a special on tv about how they turn the entire the canal into skating territory. It was freezing. And when I say freezing I mean about -25 to -30 degrees Celsius. I wore thermal running leggings, jeans, and sweatpants. Yeah. I never thought I would be caught dead going outside and doing any kind of physical activity in that kind of cold... but when he called me Wednesday night I mentioned that I would pack my ice skates because I always wanted to skating on the canal but it was supposed to be fucking freezing and I doubted I would want to go at all.. well Boy said screw the cold if its on your bucket list lets go, I decided "ok.. challenge accepted."

Maybe it was all the layers, or the beers, or the joy of doing it with someone I was interested in.. but I didn't really feel the cold. We skated 1km then stopped for some beaver tails-- for all you non-Canadians that would be delicious fried dough topped with maple sugar and chocolate drizzle-- and made our way back. I'm pretty proud of myself for having made it that far without him needing to hold my hand the entire time. I actually wasn't too bad. Didn't skate fast, just a leisurely glide, but I was able to hold my own for the most part. I surprised myself.

By the time we finished skating it was getting late, around 10pm I think. We drove back to my motel and I was sad that it was over already, thinking he would probably just drop me off and be on his way. Instead, he parked the car and asked if I wanted to have a few beers from the case that was in his trunk. Um, yes.

So we chilled in my room and had a few brewskies. It was really cool to have a few hours after 'going out' to just talk and relax together. He was lying so casually on my bed and I realized my body language might have been the opposite. I was a little nervous, maybe a little guarded. I tried to make a conscious effort to appear less so. As he lay there talking, I couldn't help but to look at his perfect smile and think about how much I wanted to kiss it. But I was nervous. To be honest I was scared.

That's how I know I really like someone, when I'm scared. When I forget how to play it cool, when I stop making any sense. When my confidence flies out the window and I'm afraid to make the first move-- in this case that was more because I was afraid of what would happen next.

What started as chilling and talking and a little bit of 'wrassling' turned into, four or five hours later, lying closer and closer to each other, and eventually with arms around each other and faces cheek to cheek. The talking faded and I kept fighting off falling asleep. I knew he couldn't stay but I didn't want to make him leave. He was super respectful, true gentleman with just a little touch of frat boy, and didn't try to get in my pants. Aside from running his hands lightly and casually up and down my body, he didn't make a major move on me the entire time. And I didn't either. Even though we were lying that close, for some reason part of me was still scared to do it. As if it wasn't completely obvious that he was as into me as I was into him. I think part of me needed him to make the first move. After my last few experiences with other men, I needed that kind of validation.

When I eventually worked up the willpower to make him leave, I decided that I couldn't let him get away without that kiss. If it bombed it would bomb and I wouldn't lose anything from it anyway. So he made ready to go but I think maybe he was thinking the same thing, because as I was going to go for it, he went for it first. It was simple, easy, natural. Except for the fact that I was totally self conscious because my lips were dry and my 3am breath was no longer minty fresh... so maybe I didn't put 100% into it but.. it was still really nice. And the perfect way to end what was just about the perfect night.

I woke up in the morning, a mere four hours later, and called my best friend to tell her about everything. Just as she answered, I received a text from Boy saying "I had a great time last night," and something about how he thinks I'm a "great gal." The "next day text" at 8:30am.. pivotal..

So I'm a happy girl. I told my boss yesterday that she has to send me to Ottawa more often so that I can fall in love.