I had a dream last night that involved some sort of controversy over interracial dating - actually I think it may have been more like inter-galactic dating as the issue was over a human dating some sort of non-human alien spirit thing. That's the way my brain works when I sleep.
In any case, the dream is not important but as I brushed my teeth and got dressed this morning I began to reflect on my own dating history and suddenly realized that I can not for the life of me remember my first kiss. I froze.
I mean, your first kiss! All the movies, the books, cartoons and comics clearly indicate that your first kiss is a big deal. Whether it be awesome or embarrassing, you're supposed to be able to look back on your 70th birthday and tell your great grandchildren about that first kiss. It's only been maybe 9 years and I have already forgotten. Is this early onset Alzheimer's?
I'm assuming I didn't have my first kiss until after graduation from high school. I think. Right? Ok, time to reflect.
In the 6th grade, I played spin the plastic soda bottle in a jacuzzi with 2 other girls and 3 boys at our end-of-the-year class party (which was held at one of my classmate's homes.) One of the girls and one of the guys were "dating," so when they spun the bottle, it conveniently landed on them and they could kiss each time. The rule was that whoever spun the bottle got to make up the rules of the kiss - you know - with tongue, lips only, on the cheek, underwater, in the eye, etc.
I was mostly just watching until they decided to turn on me. They spun the bottle to me and I had to kiss some kid named Martin. I was not attracted to Martin and I can pretty much guarantee he was not attracted to me. As much as I tried to back out, my friends at the time (who were apparently evil 6th graders) peer pressured us into it - our rules were that we had to kiss, underwater, eyes closed, on the lips. Resigning to the fact that my first kiss was going to be in a jacuzzi to Martin of all people, I reluctantly dove beneath the surface where Martin met me and proceeded to head butt me in the forehead. Our lips did not touch - thank god - and our friends were satisfied thinking we had kissed.
So, that was not my first kiss. I think that was my first head butt though.
In High School I may have had the most crushes of anyone in a high school in the world. Off the top of my head, there was Jeremy (aka. Germs. The incredibly hot and dumb surfer boy who left after freshman year), his incredibly hot friend Mark Humphries, this guy David who was in the class before mine (maybe his last name was Ramirez? I dunno) and Travis Coleman who wooed me with his dancing skills (if only I had my gaydar installed in high school) then Michael Layton (who was pretty much the only guy I knew in a serious relationship and who later became my husband) and of course Brent Mendoza (who I proceeded to stalk at school... like seriously. I stalked him. It took me forever to find it, but here's my old
Brent blog) and a whole list of other boys who I decided I was in love with and never spoke to. I wanted hot teenage action like nobody's business - and of course, I never got it.
I went out on a few dates with boys who did not go to my high school - I remember going on those dates, but I am 99% sure I did not kiss them. There was Justin, LeRoy, Travis H and Johnny. We went on dates, we never made out. As a matter of fact, 2 of them were ultra-Christians and I don't think they wanted to kiss until they were married, one smelled like cigarettes and fried chicken, and the other just intimidated me because he was way more experienced than I was. Once again, no hot teen love scenes.
Right after graduation from High School, Nick and I started dating. I had known Nick since we were kids and he wasn't really my type. BUT - for the love of all that is holy - I had spent 4 years drowning in my hormones and someone was finally interested in me! I wanted my action!
Nick must have been my first kiss. We dated for a few months so I know we did kiss.
Maybe it was on my senior trip to Hawaii... because I think that's when we officially started dating. I think. Was it some amazing romantic first kiss on the white beaches of Oahu with the sun setting and casting a glow on my toned high school abs and huge tits while a cool breeze blew through my hair and he leaned me back and went in for the kill? Or was it some awkward kiss in a sleeping bag right next to all our friends on the floor of his parent's Oahu bungalow?
I have a feeling it was the latter. I never had toned abs or huge tits and I don't remember any amazing romantic kisses in Hawaii. I think we were trying to keep our dating a secret. I think I must have even been wearing my retainer too (because the trip to Hawaii was the last time I wore my retainer at night and when I got back home, my retainer didn't fit anymore) and I was sunburned since our first day out there I got the worst sunburn of my life. And lastly, I'm pretty sure all of our make out sessions were on the floor in the living room in our sleeping bags right next to all our friends in classic high school action style. So, my first kiss must have been awkward and painful.
Does it matter that I can't specifically remember my first kiss? I feel like there's a gap in the mad-lib of my life because I can't recall it in either a fond or embarrassing light. Maybe it will come back to me someday in a sort of Vietnam War-esque flashback. I'll be casually walking along minding my own business when, BAM! it will all hit me like a ton of bricks. I'll remember the twang of my retainer, the pain of the sunburn and the warm ookie gooeyness of making out with someone's inexperienced tongue and then I'll start screaming and crying in the middle of a grocery store leaving the other shoppers to wonder. Maybe not.
I very clearly remember my first kiss with Michael (it was awesome.) I guess when I grab hold of my great grand children and force them to listen to the stories of my youth as the desperately try to wiggle away, I'll have to start - "I remember my first kiss that mattered." (Awww... isn't that disgustingly mushy?)
