I used to fall asleep most nights like a baby...asleep in 10 minutes after hitting the pillow. The past year and half has brought me much sleep anxiety, with a broken relationship looming, and then finally coming to pass. Over the course of a year, I went from being a good sleeper, one who could fall asleep 10 minutes after a movie started no matter what time of day it was, to a stressed, bitter, anxious sleeper who relies on pills to get to sleep. Each night, I take my blue pill...Lunesta. Most nights, I get a good solid 6 hours out of it. Other nights, it's as if I never took it. Some day, I believe I will sleep again. On my own. Without aids. And with much bliss. Until then, all hail the blue pill.

For me to make a difference in the world means to first make a difference in me. I need to understand my passion and my pain, my fears, my strengths, my joy, my convictions, and my weaknesses. I remember often as a child my mother saying love yourself first, Kristi. Only now does it completely ring true. Start from the source. When you are whole, the tree can grow and expand and change lives. Until then, nothing of substance.

I believe my passion is in making a difference to other people. I've felt my strongest and weakest, my most passionate, when I've held a goal to help people become better, to learn sportsmanship, how to work hard, how to win, and more importantly, how to lose.

Last day of August. Still green. The little icon for chatting in Facebook is green...I should say, it's green when someone is online and chattable. I like this icon because it represents contact with other humans. I also hate this icon, for fear of who might want to chat me up. In all honesty, though, I'm typically the one chatting the other greenies up. I have a few regulars who I look for in the green category. Probably first and formost, Shari. One of my oldest friends. We chat maybe two evenings a week, mostly about the meaning of life, a little rehashing of stupid shit we did in the 7th grade, and our own misgivings as people as we navigate this crazy trip we are on. I look for my sister, who is obsessed with Farmville, which, in my opinion, is an even bigger waste of time than waiting for someone's green light to come on. My niece and nephew, who NEVER try to chat with me first...why do I look for them? Shirly, aka Cheryl. Another very old friend...much older than I in fact...who I rarely see online anymore. Just one more thing about that green light. It really lets you see who is awake in the wee hours of the morning when I am. Pretty much, two people, both of whom live in a different time zone. I try to never look for the green lights at 5am. Only at night...and sometimes during the day when everyone is at work, "working." Gnight August. Gnight green.

Still August. Still green theme. Last night, I drank many margaritas, all of which were green. I felt happy, light-hearted, fun, engaging, and then, I started seeing double, or in various shades of fuzz. Hit me like a ton of bricks, and I was done. I got horizontal on my friend's couch, which was not green, but I didn't pass out. I didn't even fall asleep right away, just knew that horizontal was a much better position to process the shades of fuzz. I woke up at 11:30 pm after the other old guests who can't stay up past 10 were gone, the house was quiet, and I thought about my kids waking up and not finding me there, so I peed, got my stuff, and walked home. I felt a little bit like a college kid, walking home after the party, enjoying the night sky, wondering how those green margaritas would feel in the morning. This morning, as I sit here in my green pajama pants, I'm thankful for ibuprofin, and soft beds, and couches, and those wonderfully green margaritas.

August blog posting theme: green. I drove a mint green rabbit from the time I was 16 until about 27, when the driver's side window finally fell into the door. I couldn't deal with the plastic covering I had duct taped around the edge of the window to keep the elements out, so finally had to bite the bullet and buy something newer. They gave me 50 bucks on a trade in, a transaction I immediately regretted, as I had a friend who didn't have a car and would have gladly paid me more than that for it. When I asked the saleman if I could buy the car back, he said, yeah, for 500 bucks. Bastard. That pale green rabbit served me well for many years, carting teenagers around, stuffing them in the trunk for drive in movies, taking me pretty much wherever I wanted to go. I knew of people who named their cars, but this one never had a name other than The Rabbit. A good memory of green for me.

First love...I've been thinking about mine a lot recently, as she, I'll call her Jane, now lives in my neighborhood, is a mutual friend of friends, and well, we are both single and I thought it was a good idea to reconnect. I remember so clearly how we originally spoke back when I was 16 and she 18. She was walking away from Franklin Park, after a softball game, and I called her a dyke. Ugh. This memory that was repeated towards others in later years as I came to terms with my sexuality, still haunts me. After that at some point, she and I and our respective best mates started hanging out...mostly going to drive-in movies, getting totally wasted with each other. Most of these late summer nights would culminate in Jane calling me at 1am and us talking about everything under the sun until she literally passed out on the other end of the wire. I don't remember these conversations, mostly. I do remember the closeness, the intimacy, the desire for more knowledge for her that I had when we were done. I was not out then. Not even close. I did not see Jane as a girlfriend or a lover. God no. This was just friendship...a really good, close, friendship. I remember a weekend or a night that Jane and I spent at my parents' lake place. I remembered feeling like I could stay there with her forever...in retrospect, it was that sweetness of first love, hormones on fire, added with the uncertainty of it all, me, her, what we were doing. We hung out, drank beer, laid in the middle of the lake on the boat until we got so hot we'd dive in to cool off. I think we spent the night on the couch, head to foot, not sure what to do with the tension, so we did nothing with it. After that summer, Jane went to college...in the same town, but worlds away from me. I was devastated. My best mate and I would visit the school on weekends for party time...I'd try to get in touch with her to reconnect, but she had clearly moved on. I was still pretty clueless about girls hooking up with girls...college life seemed to be so much about girls and guys trolling for opportunities with each other, but perhaps I just wasn't looking. At some point I realized she had a girlfriend. I don't think I knew what that really meant, but what it meant to me was that she was not sharing those late, intimate, alcohol-induced conversations with me anymore. I became slightly obsessed...not in a weird way for her necessarily, but in a stunting way for me. I couldn't wrap my brain or my heart around the pain. I had no capacity for understanding it. And I had nobody to talk to about this special friendship that I couldn't get over.
The details are foggy, but sometime later, we reconnected. I remember two instances...one night, I found her somewhere at her college campus....she was drunk, I think. We went for a drive. I remember weird things...where we drove...feeling lost...her getting out of the car at some point because I was angry ... and then me coaxing her back in the car. I also remember a night, could have been the same night, where we were at my parents house watching M-TV and likely, drinking beer. I remember she thought Rod Stewart was sexy. At some point, we laid down together on the red shag carpet, and shared a pillow, this time, head-to-head, and held hands underneath.
I lost contact with Jane for a while after that, but I thought about her often. It took me another 6 years to finally explore my sexuality with a woman. I had a couple of boyfriends, but nobody I was interested enough to have sex with. I had my first relationship with a woman when I was 23, 7 years after I first met Jane, and i still thought about her. At some point during that relationship, I got in touch with Jane. It was awkward, weird. I asked her if she was gay, to which she responded yes. I eagerly told her I was too...as if I had just figured this out. Which I had. The conversation was brief and I felt like an ass afterwards. I moved on, but never completely got over Jane.
Years later, I moved to the biggest nearby city. As it turned out, Jane lived there too with her partner. We were mixed together one night at a birthday party that was shared by me and a friend of Jane's partner. She was in my apartment hanging out with her girlfriend. I was happy to see her, but I was still trying to make sense of her and what had transpired between us years ago. I was cautious, but interested. I managed to get out of her that night that the feelings were mutual back then. Somehow, I felt vindicated. And I was newly interested in someone, so I moved on.
Fast forward 8 years...
I was working for a large company, literally thousands of employees and hundreds of buildings. One day I was heading out for lunch and there she was, sitting at the reception area of my building. I hesitated, not certain it was her, and then approached her. Do we know each other? I said. Turned out we did. We had lunch. She was recently separated from her partner of 12 years, had two kids, was kind of a mess, but doing ok. I was in a relatioship that I had questioned from the beginning. I was awkward...didn't know how to just be normal with her. We said we'd get together again. I thought I would when I felt stable enough with my partner to allow Jane back into my life. I attempted a year or so later to go to lunch with her. I cancelled. I couldn't do it. I couldn't let her back in, because I knew I would want to love her again.
Years later, my first girlfriend, J, starts dating a woman, L, back in my hometown. Over time we determine that L was girlfriends with Jane in college and they are still good friends today. Through them, I find out that Jane had moved to my neighborhood, literally 5 blocks away. This was about 18 months ago. I remember fearing that I would run into her at the grocery store or at some local haunt. I was panicked over a potential sighting. J and L suggested I get in touch with her and be friends. I thought about it, and I panicked. I couldn't do it if I valued my still tentative relationship, which had also produced two children. A year plus later, my relatioship is ending, but far from over. I am far from being in a state where I am ready to date. I do, however, want to reconnect with my old friend Jane, now that I have nothing to lose by doing so.
I feel safe in doing so.