Jumping back into blogging (I really do hate words that use blog in it. It takes longer to say but I much prefer online journal to freaking 'blog' but I digress.) and starting with my little list.
Sooooo....want the juicy details of my kissing another girl? No, I'm not using that lame "Well, I've kissed my mother and my daughter before." There have been more than a peck on the cheek or familial bonding. No, my friends. I'm talking girl on girl action here. That's right! I said it and I've done it.
I'm not going into details because frankly, I've never gone into details about my male paramours. Privacy, you know. But I will describe a little about my sexuality here. That's fair enough.
Throughout my life, I've wondered which way I swing. I know I love love love love LOVE men, but there have been women that I've been sexually attracted to. Does this make me bisexual? I don't think so. On a physically sexual standpoint, I would say definitely yes. Emotional love and the spend the rest of your life committment? Straight all the way. That's where my confusion comes into play. The gay or bi people I've known describe their preference as how they fall in love. To me, that defines whether your gay, straight, or bi. How you sexually get off doesn't. I could be deceiving myself. I'm not denying that. That's why my questions about my sexuality persist.
But I don't fall in love with women. The only girlfriend I would want would be a female friend that loves great sex but understands that I'm not going to introduce her to anyone as my love. I don't want a relationship as generally defined as such with a woman. When I look at a man, he thrills me. The attraction is all there. The warm gooey feeling and wanting to know him and all the schoolgirl crushness envelops me as well as the need to have him inside. When I look at a woman, the idea of sex with her thrills me. Unadulterated. Orgasm inducing. Sweat and satisfaction. Nothing about staying up late cuddling each other and talking about our future together. Nope.
So, what am I? How does that define me? In prison, Sally can be my bitch. On a desert island, I'll (as my mom and her Filipina friends say) slap pancakes with Mary Jane. I'll love Agnes as a friend and say I love you and mean it. But there is no Two Moms for Emma in my thinking.