They told me not to go. Surely he would turn out to be a psycho or a rapist or a murderer or at the very least a - gasp!! - hockey enthusiast. I ignored all their warnings and bought a bus ticket to the Great White North. I journeyed for nine hours with a ragtag bunch of Air Force gun-lovers, soccer nuts and aged kindergarten teachers, crossing the border into Canada without even receiving a stamp on my passport. I met him at the bus station for the very first time, and as he welcomed me timidly with two very European pecks on the cheek I knew I was done for.

I fell for a Canadian. To complicate matters, we met online. Can you say, 'dysfunctional'?

I'm a New Yorker at the moment. I moved around a lot, but this is where I decided to go to college. Having just graduated, I decided to throw common sense to the wind and do a little traveling before I settled into a nine-to-five grind. I had been posting little entries at my online journal for about a year, and I had met a number of interesting people through their own internet writings. I never really thought about meeting them in person because they all lived so far away, but when a guy whose musings I'd been reading for a while posted an entry that said everyone was welcome to come to his birthday bash in May, I figured what the hell? I could use an adventure, and putting my ass on a bus to Canada seemed to fit the bill. He seemed like a nice enough guy, always writing me supportive little notes when I posted depressing entries. What did I have to lose?

He could've been a stalker or a psycho, I guess, but I trusted that he was honest on his website and that his friends were normal enough to qualify as vouchers for my safety. Just to be on the safe side, I practiced my tae kwon do moves before I left.

I was nervous when I arrived at the Station Centrale, but so was he. He asked me about my trip, I told him about the strange people on my bus and the crummy station in Albany where the women's bathroom had been locked. He carried my bags for me, a perfect gentleman.

He took me to a pub for a pint, and when I had drunk half of mine I informed him that I hadn't eaten anything all day. He cried out, "Oh no! I'll take you home and you can have some pizza. Why didn't you say something?" Tipsy, I stumbled out of the bar and followed him home. He introduced me to his roommates as he microwaved a few slices for me. I petted his adorable cats and he showed me his bed where he would let me sleep, heroically taking the rickety couch for himself.

He fussed over me like an Italian grandmother, and I smiled involuntarily. He showed me where everything was and asked if I was going to be all right. I said yes, and we went to our respective beds.

By the time the weekend was over, I was smitten. I went home to New York, racking my brain for a reason to go back. He had said he would pay for half of my bus ticket if I ever wanted to visit again. I was eager to accept the invitation, and in June he suggested I come for Canada Day. I took another nine-hour bus ride, and I spent a little over a week in his arms.

We decided to try to make it work somehow, international boundaries be damned. My friends think I'm slightly cracked and I guess I can understand their concern, but this is probably the healthiest relationship I've ever had. Besides, moving to another country has been something that I've pondered ever since George Dubya mysteriously earned the trust of the American people to become our President. Why is it so bizarre and otherworldly that I'm willing to jump from this sinking ship? He makes me happy, and if I can find that in a foreign land I am willing to make a few sacrifices. I'll have to learn French - this time so that I can actually use it outside of a classroom. I'll have to find a job so that they'll let me stay. I'll have to avoid the Bitch Dog from Hell, a friend's girlfriend who dislikes me by association. All of these things seem worth the effort to me. And if all else fails, at least I'll have some interesting stories to tell as a new immigrant.

Look out, Canada, here I come!