Flirting with friends

I'm a flirt. I don't flirt immediately .... I don't flirt with everyone. I rarely flirt with men. I flirt with friends...girlfriends. Mostly, girlfriends I am not attracted to. And male friends that I am attracted to, but who are generally considered safe....married, they know I'm a lesbian, etc. I would never go to a bar by myself and flirt with an available man. I might chat, but wouldn't flirt. I like to flirt with the straightest of straight girls who are comfortable in their skin...I also like to flirt with those straight girls who just might take me up on it. My friend Amy is hot, by most people's standards. i flirt with her shamelessly. She is married, happily, to a hot guy named Matt. I knew they had a threesome once with another woman becauase Amy was curious, and of course, so was Matt. What I didn't know was that Amy on several occasions has practiced the art of cunilingus on a couple close girlfriends and they have reciprocated. And Matt has not been invited, however, is aware of the arrangment. Amy and her friends are not gay. Amy does not want to "be" with a woman, but she does like being with women. This makes perfect sense to me. I can see "being" with a man, but not being with a man. I've never been in love with a man, but I think I would enjoy loving a man. It's an interesting thing. I think we are taught to believe that sexuality is about sex or who we like to fuck. Really, what I'm learning more and more, is who we like to fuck isn't necessarily related to gender, but who we love and build our emotional and physical lives with is.

Admiration....me? What do I want to be admired for...I believe ultimately, it's that I am a good person who strives for wholeness. A good parent....good friend...one who can be relied upon. I think in our busy world, it is difficult to remember the values that make us who we are. We get wrapped up in our lives and who we are within those lives. Are we truly who we want to be within those lives? Sometimes we don't know until we are thrust out of the comfort zone...oftentimes in ways that cause us great pain and sorrow. But when we re-emerge, we often find a blossom about to bloom...a person we haven't seen in a while or maybe never at all. A person who wants fullness and passion and independence. A person who can mingle confidently amongst a crowd of new people and know that she is worthy, and interesting, and good, and at peace with herself. I want to be known for someone who is comfortable in their own skin...someone who has values and abides by them...someone who loves and breaths in life's passions....someone who wants to raise her children to be empathetic lovers of life and all that it has to offer. While there is much pain and suffering in our world, let us not forget the light at the end of the tunnel and that our journey is about finding the light, and refinding the light even through periods of sadness.

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.