One Year.

This time last year I was gearing up to visit Portland for the very first time.

I worked until 9:30 Wednesday night and spent all night packing outfits and reading material for the plane. I made a list (complete with check mark boxes) so I wouldn’t do something embarrassing like forget my toothbrush. I charged my iPod for the drive to Sacramento that I would be taking at 5 (or was it 6?) that morning.

I didn’t sleep at all Wednesday night and Thursday morning. I drove to Sacramento and waited for my plane. The plane ride over to Portland was uneventful; I was, however, seated next to a talker for that hour and a half.

By the time I arrive in Portland it’s 9am. I’m as close to delirious as you can come without actually going crazy. I stumbled around the airport and found the MAX. I boarded with my suitcase (at this time I didn’t realize you had to pay and so I ended up not paying for my ride into town. Oops.) and luckily found my hotel without incident.

I was told that check-in time was not until noon but they gave me a room early (at no charge) because I looked so exhausted. I immediately fell upon and bed and passed out.

Several hours later a man whom I had only met once a month ago showed up at my hotel to collect me and take me to dinner. I tried my best to shake off the grogginess that comes with lack of sleep and not look like a train wreck. I made my way down to the lobby to meet him. He stood there in his work clothing looking very goofy. It was adorable. It was also awkward; was I supposed to hug him? Are we just shaking hands? I was clearly still half asleep.

One hug later and we were on our way. He took me through PSU and showed me all the building and cool little things about campus and I took them in not really listening. We ate sushi and he tried to teach me how to use chopsticks and I might have rolled my eyes and asked for a fork after the first two failed attempts.

At this point he might have been convinced that I hated him.

As he showed more of the city I came to love all I was thinking about was the night I met him last month. Before we all said our goodbyes and each headed to their own hotel room and thus ending my first ever TequilaCon there was a moment. A moment in a dark bar where no one was looking and where this girl and boy kissed and sparks were ignited and blog-crushes became full on real life crushes.

We walked to stores and down streets and passed Powell’s. I turned to him and told him I wanted to go to there. He took me to Powell’s Technical Books first and I admit I was in nerd heaven. Several books about Biology and Cells later we wandered over to the main store.

“Where’s the sci-fi part?”

“Oh, follow me.” He grabbed my hand and led me to the gold room. Books were thrust into my hand, among them was Revelation Space. (A little aside: if you have not read this book, please read it. It’s that good. It’s also the reason Vahid and I almost never happened.) Those two aisles in the gold room was where the first blossoms of love happened, over science fiction books. That’s nerd love.

Friday night rolls around and Vahid texts me that he’s on his way to take me out to dinner and to a drag show, what will later be called our first date. I reply that I don’t want to go out because I started reading Revelation Space and OMG it’s so good I can’t put it down. He almost left to have beers with his friend because he was still under the impression that I hated him. (I didn’t, I just am kind of mean if my sleep cycle gets thrown off.) Instead he texted that he would drag me out of room if he had to but he didn’t want to.

We went for pizza and started talking, after the initial awkwardness wore off we got to really talking. Next up on the agenda for the night was a drag show. (which if you haven’t seen Darcelle XV you should. It’s so much awesome.) Alcohol was consumed, there was slight cuddling and a lot of denial that we were anything more than friends.

I paid the tab and uttered, “so I just paid for your drinks, that pretty much makes you bitch now, doesn’t it?” Clearly I was a little drunk. There was laughs and we headed out for a night of bar hopping.

Several bars later (and drinks!) Vahid stumbles me back to my hotel and we had the moment that is considered to be the most infamous in our relationship.

“So…you’re coming up.” I turned and walk into the elevator just as its doors open.

Vahid stands there, mouth slightly agape and follows me at the last minute.

(Much snogging happened followed by Vahid’s walk of shame at 3am.)

And thus a relationship was born, although we will continue to be in denial about it for the next week.