Notes from the Red Bird House

Lately, people - friends, co-workers, social networking acquaintances - have been telling me I should be a travel writer. I guess they know of my two loves, writing and travel, and think I should combine them. I appreciate the sentiment and the idea, but I've yet to utter a resounding, "I know!" Because, frankly, I don't know. I mean, it would be awesome - AWESOME - to get paid to write AND travel. But seriously... What would that even look like and why would anyone pay me to do it? I'm not a "foodie" and I don't drink or do "night-life", luxury, "hot-spots", or crowds. So, what in the hell do I do when I travel if I don't do any of the traditional guide-book-tourist activities? And moreover, why do I even bother doing it at all? Right? Let's remember one fact - I'm an INTROVERT (Perhaps a slightly extroverted one when the circumstances and my mindset are both favorable, but don't let that little bit of misdire...

I'm an introvert. For those who've met me, this is often hard to believe. I speak even before I'm spoken to. I use complete sentences. I don't run when I see people.  I have a high social IQ (and incidentally a high emotional IQ as well). I can speak to anyone and find something to talk about. I'm seldom at a loss for words. I have spectacular intuition and I'm good at reading people. I can be witty, sarcastic, and down-right fun to be around. Makes me an extrovert, right? Wrong.  I'm a textbook introvert. People drain me. I crave solitude. Too much distraction leaves me untethered mentally. I dislike being the center of attention. I prefer small groups over large ones (at a party, I'm usually the one petting the dog in a quiet corner) I have a small number of close friends. See? I'm an introvert.  Here comes the shocker.  I'm a fake. A pretender. An actor. I've gotten really good at the imitation game. I know wha...