The things you take with you.

Things I might actually miss about Ottawa.

-walking home alone alone on warm nights, crossing the Queensway and knowing I'm nearly home.

-getting home late at night, and knowing I'm the only girl awake in the Glebe.

-sneaking gin and juice (or chardonnay, or a good merlot) onto the Bluesfest grounds at LeBreton Flats in a Nalgene bottle.

-cooling down in the air-conditioned calm of the War Museum lobby between bitchin' sets.

-knowing Elizabeth Hay is kind of my neighbour.

-Ottawa Morning. Mostly Stu Mills, whose velvet voice and vegan leanings make me swoon.**

-the adorable boys who work at the Crappy Loeb and blush when they make change and sometimes score pot from the person in front of me in line.

-the equally adorable boys who work at Bridgehead and come around the counter to hand my coffee to me before going back to discuss their ideas for their next tattoos.

-the canal. I always wished for a river to skate away on, and for a few years, I had one.

-wandering through the National Gallery on a Friday afternoon, sneaking around corners to hide from security guards, running through as many galleries as possible before closing time.

-Saturday morning walks to get the paper, and days spent watching Arlo chase the sun across my apartment.

-my apartment.

-you.

**Last summer I had the incredibly surreal experience of being on Ottawa Morning and I sat across the table from Stu as he prepped to read the news at the top of the clock. After my interview was over, I skulked around until he was done and followed him across the street to Bridgehead, where I tried to reach out and touch his vintage leather jacket as he passed by me. It was maybe the best fifteen minutes of my entire time in this city.