[Adelina]

As much as I love writing, I’m often at a loss in how to begin a narrative. Today, it is no different. I’m sitting at my desk, puzzling over the various notes scribbled onto the inside of a boarding pass folder at high altitude and wondering which tidbit should go first. It isn’t so much a story, as a collection of musings and observations.

No matter how hard we modern-minded humans try to integrate ourselves all together into a big melting pot, we are wired to seek out our own kind. The sense of belonging is a powerful drive, urging us on to find a place where we are safe to express our true selves, knowing that we will find acceptance. I’m pretty certain that is what compelled me to book a plane ticket to a place I’ve never been, so I could spend a weekend with a whole lot of people I’d never seen. A few months ago, I saw various postings about some big party down in Texas, but I didn’t read any of them. I’m not in Texas. Why would I need to know what’s going on in Texas? I don’t have money to be flitting off to exotic places like Texas.

Few weeks later, I'm sitting on a plane headed down to Texas, seated next to Paully62, aka “travel buddy.” He was waiting for me in St. Louis as I arrived from my first leg of flight, attached to his omnipresent cellphone. We had lunch at Chili’s in the airport, chattering up a storm, surrounded by some sort of college sports team dressed in matching red warm-ups. At least, I think they were red. I’m a little fuzzy on the details. I do remember I had a Philly cheesesteak wrap, ordered without mushrooms but served with plenty of mushrooms. Being the introverted geek that I am, I ate it anyway, brushing off Paully’s offer to have it taken back. It wasn’t that important. And I was hungry!

Maybe it’s because I’m short that I’m so often overlooked, but on the plane, it happened again. I ordered a drink and it never arrived. In steps the chivalrous Paully, gallantly notifying the flight attendant that I hadn’t yet received my water. Shortly, water arrived on my tray. I sipped away, wondering when exactly my feminist shell cracked enough to allow a male to order me a drink, and why I’d insisted on having such a shell in the first place. There is obvious irony in my intense distrust of domineering males being softened within an online world filled with dominant males. They’re a unique breed, these guys. It’s taken a good couple years, but I’ve managed to come to a place where I no longer panic every time someone holds a door for me. In a world where so many men have all the chivalry of a can of tuna, I found a niche where there really are some gems to be found, where I could feel comfortable being helped into a shuttle van and letting someone else tip the driver without feeling all icky and covered in guilt. I’m still not convinced that the driver believed we were attending a division conference for GE (we bring good things to light), but it was better than the answer I came up with.

To be continued….