My Parting Gift

Sometimes I don't like going new places.
I think all the kids will laugh at me.
--Naomi (when she was four)

I’ll admit it: I’m a pain in the posterior to travel with. Scratch that. Preparing for a trip brings out the worst of my Type A anxieties. I’m an absolute pain up until the moment TSA grants me the permission to put my shoes and my belt back on. By that point my luggage is checked and my boarding pass is in-hand. If I’ve forgotten to pack something, if there isn't enough food in the gerbil’s cage or I've left the bathroom light on its going to have to wait until I get back.

Actually I like to travel. But it’s the traveling part I like not the packing up or getting ready to go. I like the way new places have an unfamiliar bite to the air. I find guilty pleasure whenever I nuzzle into a pillowy bed with clean sheets that I didn’t change myself. So long as my family is still speaking to me as we board the airplane we generally have a good time. Unfortunately McKibbin and Naomi only got in on the Type A furious preparation and none of the joy of my recent trip to Raleigh.

Taking my seat that first day at the conference in Raleigh I was reminded of that nervous and giddy feeling I used to have on the first day of college classes. But my mood took a sharp turn as I sank in my seat and that familiar adolescent feeling I have yet to outgrow took hold.

I became convinced that talking to anyone would later morph into a dumb-blonde story the stranger would laugh about at coffee break. I fidgeted with my cell phone. I flipped through the notebook. I checked to see if my name is spelled correctly on my name-tag. It’s bizarre to choke up like this but it happens, like clockwork, in most if not all new settings for me. I’ve read all sorts of I’m Good Enough, Smart Enough, and (Gosh Darn It) People Like Me sorts of books in attempt to boost my self concept. Ultimately I had to put down the self-help mantras and embrace the dumb-blonde within. If I became a character in a coffee break story I decided to consider the punchline a parting gift from yours truly.

I arrived home with my blonde-brain full of acid rain requirements, continuous emission monitor nuisances, the road ahead for mercury emission compliance, etc. Bless McKibbin’s heart for letting me babble gibberish for a few hours about the industry I work in and the fascinating people I met in Raleigh.

My Type A trip preparation frenzy far enough in the past, McKibbin didn’t hold a grudge. How smart of me to have married such a forgiving sort of person. I do like traveling. It allows me to miss my everyday life, and revel at the sight of familiar faces.

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Currently Reading: Oil On The Brain by Lisa Margonelli
Currently Watching: Battlestar Galactica Marathon on the SciFi Channel