Reporter ?

The conversation began as many others before and a few since,
me: hey
eb: hey yourself
me: what's doin?
eb: shame shit different day
Or somthing similarly eb like.

One comment led to another and before you know, wham bam boom, I was putting in for two more of those 2006 vacation days, reserving a car and wrapping my head and arms around the idea that I was heading to Memphis, all alone, to meet up with two famous bloggers and play correspondent in the shadow of The National Conference for Media Reform.

The nervousness exists on several levels.

I've not gone anywhere without one or both of my children. They've left me, flown solo, but never the other way around. I don't have any particular concerns about leaving them to fend for themselves. They are capable adults and are adept self fenders. It is however, a FIRST. Firsts tend to invite nervous knots.

Meeting people for the first time, particularly people with whom you've enjoyed some sort of relationship tends to cause a nervous titter, at least for me. Will they like me as well in living color and I them? Will we click, clank or clunk?

This is my first foray into the public eye housed in the skin of a lesbian. Oh sure, I've been around and about, but I've basically lived the same life after my reveal as before, with a few barely noticeable exceptions. I won't go rolling into Memphis in a rainbow wagon, flying banners touting gay marriage, this is a Save the Internet conference, not a pride parade. Still, at least two people there will see me, know me as a lesbian. How will that feel? They don't know me as anyone else, so there aren't comparisons to make, still, nervous nellie lesbian thoughts abound.

Before filing any reports from the road though, some local reporting is in order. While I've enjoyed the support of both my son and daughter, I still tread carefully when addressing serious topics for the first time.

Michael, in his usual calm reserve asked, why Memphis. I explained about the conference and the meeting with ladies from Texas. He shrugged and went on his way, stopping only to remind me that his photo shoot is on the 15th and I'd agreed to pay the sitting fees.

Dani asked why, when, how long and with whom. I began the explanation. She stopped me mid-sentence, "hey, is this a lesbian thing? You're going to meet those Google Lesbian Buddies," as she calls my few chat mates, "aren't you?"

I hadn't played up that part of the recitation, I didn't think. More questions and answers later, she started telling me first time meeting horror stories she'd seen on any of the several reality shows she follows. I tried to offer her contact information for the GLBs in question, to assuage her concerns. She brushed that away and just asked me to please not spill food on my shirt. I can be a sloppy eater. I told her I'd try to be neat.

Some days later I tackled the toughest tell, mom. My mom, upon hearing any news, peppers inundates the deliverer with questions. A bombardment guaranteed to exhaust and frustrate. Mom doesn't trust the Internet so much assurance must be made that checks were made and care is being employed. She was concerned that I'd be going alone. I explained how I was meeting some on-line friends there. The lesbian connection was not discussed. Mom is not aware such a connection exists. This is best kept for another day. This topic deserves its own platform, its own bombardment.

Never fully satisfied, but willing to move on, mom expressed how she thought it was good I was getting away to do something for myself, finally. Still, she left me with, "I hope those Internet people you're meeting aren't weird."

I didn't tell her that I like a little weird in my peeps.