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I admit: I'm superstitious. I believe in the supernatural power of prayer, karma, positive energy and good vibes. The sharing of joy and happiness can help us get through the cold and darkness of this administration.

She took me by the hand and led me into the darkness away from the bright lights of the baseball diamonds in Yoctangee Park.

Our fingers entwined as we walked. My heart pounded so loud I was certain she might hear it because I was 14 and deeply in love with the most beautiful girl in the world. I felt higher than marijuana or any other drug could come close to making me feel. It wasn't that I felt that way because I thought I'd finally kiss her that night. I always felt that way with her then.

She was tall and athletic and blonde. She rode a motorcycle on cross-country trails and she starred on the girls' basketball team as a guard and on the track team as a high jumper and hurdler. She had graceful hands with long fingers that played the piano and the flute and several other instruments but her favorite was the drums which she beat like her musical hero Neil Peart of Rush.

I swear the night was electrically charged.

We followed the path in silence until we stepped between the trees and took shelter in the shadows. We pulled each other close. If I could write like Proust, I would describe her scent. I cannot though 25 years later I can remember how wonderful her scent was. If goodness and beauty and intelligence could be bottled as a perfume, it would smell like her. My hands held the small of her back and she bent her head slightly and we leaned into each other and we kissed.

At the time, it was the happiest, best moment of my young life.

That is my happy story this evening. Your story may be about anything you wish to write.

Originally posted to Carnacki on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 06:26 PM PDT.

Poll

Do you remember your first kiss?

74%80 votes
12%13 votes
13%14 votes

| 107 votes | Vote | Results

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Comment Preferences

  •  Tip jar (4.00)
    Evil indeed is the man who has not one woman to mourn him. Sherlock Holmes.

    We can make the world a better place by laying them by the heels. -- Sherlock Holmes

    by Carnacki on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 06:21:36 PM PDT

    •  Great story Carnacki - young love is so sweet (4.00)
      You share stories so well and first kiss is great!

      C&J - "highly entertaining spankers, wankers and perverts." - Cosmic Debris

      by SallyCat on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 06:29:06 PM PDT

      [ Parent ]

    •  How we do love thee Carnacki (4.00)
      You do things to me that I can't even begin to explain.  Long buried thoughts that shouldn't be so hidden rise to the surface when I find your GREAT diaries.

      Life, so sweet, so filled with wonder and so many "firsts" and you help us all to rediscover parts of us that we forget.

      Thank you, for your wisdom and GREAT diaries.

      Loved reading about your first kiss...wish I had been that girl.

      "September 11, 2001, already a day of immeasurable tragedy, cannot be the day liberty perished in this country." Judge Gerald Tjoflat

      by SanJoseLady on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 06:50:50 PM PDT

      [ Parent ]

    •  Way Better than Powerline (4.00)
      Carnacki, you are way better than Hindrocket.
  •  First 'this marriage isn't over' Kiss (4.00)
    I dedicate this to my whacky and loving husband of almost 22 years and my best friend for the past 27 years.

    We have had our share of laughs and tears and fights and everything that goes with being married.  In general we had a good and comfortable marriage. For a lot of reasons we had drifted into routines that were not healthy for the marriage several years ago. A situation made for a catastrophe.

    Set-Up:
    The week before Christmas. Big Christmas party was the week before and a success. Super heavy duty rains. Back yard is flooding - but the pumps are still working so the house is okay. Late in the evening the power goes out...no pumps, house is about to flood, bookcases too close to the doors and walls, Christmas tree is by the flooding with power cords everywhere.  As we furiously scramble to get things moved, the books are now stacked on every piece of furniture, the water is flooding the carpets, and in the middle of this the Christmas tree is knocked over shattering ornaments in wet carpet. The power finally comes back on and the flooding stops about 3 am. And then the fireworks start from too much stress!

    This is the usual screaming, crying, what the hell do you think your doing, too much pressure couple fight. Somewhere in the middle of the fight I sat down and said it didn't matter with everything else that was going on......and the 5 year list of things that weren't working came up. He had his own 5 year list. We talked and yelled and cried until just before sunrise. No answers and the question of whether the marriage would last another month was still unanswered.

    That day we went through the process of drying carpets and clearing mud from the patio. We also kept our distance. Later in the day we sat in the family room - away from the chaos - and talked for hours. We both had the same frustrations and unmet expectations. We had lost a lot of the communication that made us a whacky and loving couple.

    At the end of the day - we made a pact - to argue more often! Not the big fights but the little "you're not paying attention to me fights". It was a seal it with a kiss deal.

    The first hug, and the first kiss, knowing we had come through a serious crisis, was sweeter and more loving than any kiss I remember.

    C&J - "highly entertaining spankers, wankers and perverts." - Cosmic Debris

    by SallyCat on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 06:22:32 PM PDT

    •  SallyCat (4.00)
      Awww. That is really sweet. The best part of fighting is the making up.

      We can make the world a better place by laying them by the heels. -- Sherlock Holmes

      by Carnacki on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 06:32:31 PM PDT

      [ Parent ]

      •  Thanks Carnacki (4.00)
        I meandered down memory lane today thinking of special places and first kisses...this one kept coming back to the front.

        Sometimes, just sometimes we remember why we married in the first place.

        But don't get me started on his collection of power tools....  <grins>

        .

        C&J - "highly entertaining spankers, wankers and perverts." - Cosmic Debris

        by SallyCat on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 06:36:39 PM PDT

        [ Parent ]

    •  Love the story (4.00)
      had an experience just like that at xmas as well with my hubby...still remember sitting on the sofa and just not knowing what to do.

      It is more loving to know that we can get through thick and thin, the good and the bad.

      Last night my husband and I had a horrid fight, and I walked out to go to a meeting, not saying goodbye, and he called me and just his voice made me cry..........of course..we made up in person when I got back later ;)

      "September 11, 2001, already a day of immeasurable tragedy, cannot be the day liberty perished in this country." Judge Gerald Tjoflat

      by SanJoseLady on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 06:54:54 PM PDT

      [ Parent ]

  •  Such a sweet experience! (4.00)
    But i'm going to go in a different direction tonight (albeit with fond memories of a certain 14 year old from my days at sleepaway camp...:))

    Anyhow, I had to take my 16-1/2-year-old cat to the vet today for Round 5 of "Kitty Chemo."  She was diagnosed last fall with a rare form of cancer (for cats) and given 6 months, even with the chemo treatments. (No, their fur does not fall out!  Apparently their bodies can handle chemo somewhat better than humans.)  So, I was expecting the worst, especially since her weight was down significantly last month --

    Much to my delighted (and, I admit it, teary) surprise, she had actually gained quite a bit of weight, is doing very well, and has now officially "outlived the expectation."  So, in my small corner of the woods, it was a great day, thanks to the wonderful vets we've had at the NYC Animal Medical Center.

    She'd better not throw up a hairball tonite.

  •  jeez carnacki... (4.00)
    You reminded me of why i fell in love with my wife.

    I was home for the summer from college and a friend told me to come work at a local chain restaurant.

    She said that no guys worked the front of the house, just women.  What more did i need to know.

    So, i went in to get an application and saw all these hotties walking around and thought, hmmm this is the place for me.

    There was one in particular that caught my eye.  I got a job, tried to turn on all my wit and charm with her but she wouldn't give me the time of day.

    Finally after several months, the night clinton won for the first time, she agreed to go have a beer with me.  That was the beginning of many beers after work.

    Finally, i realized that she didn't just like my witty conversations over beer, she was actually interested in me.

    I'll never forget walking her to her car on "that night", grabbing her jacket as she gave me that "is this fool ever going to kiss me" look, leaning in and giving her a quick kiss on the lips for the first time.  It felt like an electric bolt went through my lips and somehow i knew that i would never kiss another girl again.

    I still remember the smell of her perfume that night.

    Now, 13 years later, many more kisses thankfully, two little tlaws, and many other happy stories, she still sends that lightening through my lips.

    Thats my happy story and thanks for reminding me carnacki.

    email: tlawkos@yahoo.com

    by tlaw on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 06:28:29 PM PDT

  •  It was a clear, moonlit night in the middle of (3.95)
    winter.  A large group of us went to a pond to skate--there was a bon fire.  The pond was so clear we could see to the bottom as we slid flashlights along the smooth ice.  My neighbor Scott, grabbed my arm and took me on a wild spin across the ice.  We laughed and laughed.  On the way home, many of us were crammed in my friend's car.  Scott and I were wedged close to one another. Suddenly he turned and I turned--we bumped noses--then he kissed me--out of the blue--he kissed me!  There was some attempt at openned mouthes, but all we managed were some awkward noises!  It was sweet and I will never forget!

    "The future is not a gift: it is an achievement." Robert F. Kennedy

    by PoliSigh on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 06:28:42 PM PDT

  •  Flowers of youth (4.00)
    In the spring term of my Freshman year in high school I was asked out on a date by a Senior. He took me out for dinner and then to a lecture about the newly arrived and marvelous King Tut exhibition. During the lecture he took my hand and held it for the remainder of the talk.

    After the lecture ended we went outside and stood near an old growth lavender bush, which was in full bloom. The evening was warm and the scent of the blossoms was intoxicating. He picked a sprig of the beautiful flowers and placed it in my hair just above one of my ears. Then he took my neck gently with one hand and leaned in to kiss me. I melted.

    I knew right then that I would give to this boy the flower of my youth, just as he had given to me my first real kiss with flowers. I knew right then I would never see this boy again after he graduated and left for college. In fact I have never seen him again. It did not matter though. The sweetness was perfect, the loss of innocence divine.

    Dubya, yer momma may think yer cute, but I sure don't

    by cosmic debris on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 06:31:08 PM PDT

  •  *thinking i'm not at dKos* (4.00)
    sweet though.

    UID lacking in atomic weight (tm)

    by cosette on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 06:33:12 PM PDT

  •  Two first kisses (4.00)
    My first official kiss came via a spin the bottle game when I was 13.

    My first official real kiss was also later that year, with my first major crush, who later turned into my first major girlfriend.  Her name was Erin.  Cute yet tall Irish girl with long brown hair.  It was one of those ackward middle school parties in the basement of your friend's house.  It was warm outside, so we went outside with the radio.  It was playing this old Def Leopard song, I can remember the lyrics but not the title..."when you get up....and you look in the mirror..."  I was ackward slow dancing with her, and we kissed.  I knew nothing about what to do.  So I froze.  No moving of the mouth.  Just a pluckered pair of lips.  

    We went "steady" for what seemed an eternity...three months...and I got better at this kissing thing.  

    The rest of the story is somewhat tragic, but no of that here on a happy diary

    To find his equal, an Irishman is forced to talk to God.

    by Delaware Dem on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 06:33:41 PM PDT

  •  The Last Kiss (4.00)
    It is not my first kiss that I remember, but my last kiss or, rather, the last man that I kissed.  Our meeting was a combination of one of those "across a crowded room" and "I could have danced all night" things.  It was a dinner dance.  Our eyes met, he asked me to dance and it was magic.  Have you ever danced with someone for the first time and it felt like you had danced together forever?  Where your bodies are perfectly in sync?  He was tall, dark, handsome, and very elegant.  He always folded the towels in thirds, always put the toilet seat down and only used sandlewood soap.  Unfortunately, the "aftertalk" was always about him all the time.  Oh, well, it was fun while it lasted!  
    •  I'm Still With Mine 23 Years Later (4.00)
      I was in my 30's & still single, she was near 40 and divorced.

      But that was good--I used to tell my friends: "No more amateurs!" If you want to start a band, you don't hire people who've never played an instrument. You hire experts!

      In my earliest dating years, my then-girlfriend's aunt & uncle had concentration camp tattoos. They said marry for friendship, it'll last you a hundred years if you need it. That was easy advice because it was my natural instinct. I always dated girls I could be good friends with.

      My future wife and I met at a folk dance and instantly the dancing and everything fit. It wasn't the panting fireworks thing, it was the tell-me-where-you've-been-since-our-last-life thing. And I don't even believe in that. We went home and spent the night drinking green homemade beer and listening to records of all the instruments they give you when they say "welcome to hell."

      It was friends at first sight. We've danced and played music together, sailed through storms together and parented a pair of seriously eccentric Toto dogs together. We've been through, not exactly hell, but a miserably lonely stretch of health-induced purgatory. That's resolved now and we're back as tight as ever. We don't have a clue how we're going to get through all that's coming, except that we're heading into it together.

      We are called to speak for the weak, for the voiceless, for victims of our nation and for those it calls enemy....--ML King, "Beyond Vietnam"

      by Gooserock on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 08:05:17 PM PDT

      [ Parent ]

  •  I'm blanking on the (4.00)
    term, of what people in outdoor ice-skating locales, call the place where you go in to warm off, during skating times.

    these "hothouses" "warming house"?? are boarded up after the winter, but exist on the landscape for...

    adolescents to have the first kiss in their shadows?

    I was so emotionally/sensually exploded over the "first kiss" that, afterward, I went down to our basement, where we had some extended bookshelves, and I choose a title of a novel, by which I would be sure I could remember the first kiss, and put a bookmark in with the date.

    can't remember what novel I decided the important historical document would reside in.

    a bazillion years later I read about permissiveness towards adolescent sexuality in ..ok, it was Iceland or Greenland--there were proscribed buildings where teens could engage in sexual experimentation. Fantastic idea--just let it run its nascent hormonal course--someone you "love" when you are twelve or thirteen has more to do with your experiencing your own capacity to love as a sexual being than it has to do with the object of your affection.

    trying to constrain that stage in life, leads to twisted ideas of what love and ultimately marriage means. leads to astronomical teen pregnancy rates among americans with respect to cultures who realistically deal with adolescent sexuality.

    "....a relative newbie (user ID in the 18,000 range).. "

    by Miss Devore on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 06:40:17 PM PDT

  •  Oh great (4.00)
    My cow sex diary has to compete with Carnacki's happy story diary. If you ask me that's a CLEAR sign from god that I should delete my diary.

    And yeah, for the first time in a looong time, I had a happy story, only now I can't remember what it was. I might be back later.

    p.s. My first kiss that mattered wasn't until I was in my early thirties--before that, bleh, no fireworks, just kissing. True love IS hard to find.

  •  First kiss (4.00)
    from my husband of almost 25 years...so long ago....

    I met him, and met him, and met him.  We actually kept running into each other everywhere.  He ordered pizza from the place that I worked, got to know his voice, and his order by heart.  

    Then I find out he is in a classroom right next to mine at San Fran City College (he had a degree already, but went back for another two year degree).  I had gone into his classroom to talk to someone else I knew, and there he was.....mmmmm.

    And then, on Halloween so many years ago, I went with a friend to a party that was boringggggggggggggggggggg, and I said to her, let's go to the wharf (I grew up in SF).  So off we go, and we walk by Ghirardelli square parking garage, and I stop and say..hey the guy in there looks like.....so we go back, and sure enough it was HIM!  And he welcomed our visit as he had just had a really bad experience.

    I kept running into him everywhere, and he was "afraid" to ask me out as he was 11 years older then I was, but I wouldn't go away.

    To make a long story longer lol, he and I talked, and finally one day he asked me out.  We went out to dinner in North Beach and walked around.  As we were crossing a street that was at the top of a hill he grabbed me in the middle of the street and kissed me, we stopped traffice, he stopped my heart and it has been 25 years of kisses, love, fights, struggles and companionship ever since.

    "September 11, 2001, already a day of immeasurable tragedy, cannot be the day liberty perished in this country." Judge Gerald Tjoflat

    by SanJoseLady on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 06:45:30 PM PDT

    •  The City (4.00)
      SF would be a fantastic place to fall in love.  
      •  it was (4.00)
        and it wasn't...fog sort of made falling out of love all the more depressing.....but damn.....

        I will never forget the places I was kissed, such as they were, places to overlooked the ocean, where many cars were parked, no one looking at the view, fog all about, fogged up windows, fogged up 70's memories .......

        "September 11, 2001, already a day of immeasurable tragedy, cannot be the day liberty perished in this country." Judge Gerald Tjoflat

        by SanJoseLady on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 06:57:14 PM PDT

        [ Parent ]

    •  SanJoseLady (4.00)
      That is a very sweet story. A traffic stopping kiss...

      We can make the world a better place by laying them by the heels. -- Sherlock Holmes

      by Carnacki on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 07:12:05 PM PDT

      [ Parent ]

      •  It is so funny (4.00)
        that you post this story, after I had a huge fight with my husband last nigbt..and now I think back to that "first" kiss, the magic, making me forget the fight and remember the love.

        Thanks Carnacki....you really help us travel places that we need to go.

        "September 11, 2001, already a day of immeasurable tragedy, cannot be the day liberty perished in this country." Judge Gerald Tjoflat

        by SanJoseLady on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 07:14:33 PM PDT

        [ Parent ]

  •  Mt first REAL kiss was gross (4.00)
    Slobbery, too-eager, probey and all sorts of not good at all (on his part, that is...I was too busy recoiling to really participate actively).

    My first boyfriend was a real letdown, all things considered. None of that Molly Ringwald magic that I saw in movies. Luckily, the next one was a lot better.

    Its funny how it can take years and years to put your teenage relationships into perspective. I never thought I would EVER get over the breakup of my first boyfriend....now it seems like a thousand years ago.

    In the midst of life we are in debt, etc.

    by ablington on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 06:46:18 PM PDT

    •  You never get over the first one (4.00)
      At least, not completely.

      But, one can get in a position where it can be placed in its proper context, and it doesn't prevent one from moving on with life.

      Not that you need that advice. Just my own personal outlook.

      I'm not part of a redneck agenda - Green Day

      by eugene on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 08:02:53 PM PDT

      [ Parent ]

  •  I don't remember the kiss (4.00)
    as much as I remember that shy doesn't adequately describe my personality.

    We had been dating for three months, doing all the fun things like attending concerts, seeing first run movies in Hollywood, eating at great restaurants, going to GTO club parties; and occaisonally parking on street on a hill overlooking the 'Sin' Fernando Valley. It was there, on (I'm not making this up) Don Juan Drive that I finally kissed my wife-to-be.

    That was 35 years ago.

  •  Her name was Laura (4.00)
    Not the name of the first person with which I shared, ahem, the breaking of pistels and stamens, but another Laura.

    I remember the sensation, like falling down a mineshaft into someone else's mouth, with nothing but the other person's mouth for safe purchase.

    And safety was a very good thing. I was terrified, and aroused. Empowered, and astonished. Embraced, and enervated.

    It was as if nothing that has ever happened, nothing I had ever thought or felt or wondered about thinking or doing or feeling, mattered but matching body temperatures and kinematics with the short fair-haired woman in my arms.

    It was a very good first kiss.

    I decided at that very moment that kissing was very cool. :)

    Defend your freedom, one threatened judge at a time.

    by cskendrick on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 06:59:12 PM PDT

  •  Beginnings are such delicate times... (4.00)
    I was 16.  I had been kissed before, and kissed well; I knew what I was doing.

    Mr. Brown and I had been slowly peeling away from our huge group of theater friends and moving closer to becoming an item for about 2 months-- nearly an eternity in high school love lives.

    He was pretty new at the whole girlfriend thing--he was a late bloomer, and I was only about the 2nd or 3rd girl he'd ever been romantically interested in.

    The night had been an almost-date; we went out with the group, but he made a special trip to my 7 miles-out-of town house to pick me up.  I was touched because I had my own car and could very well have gotten myself downtown on my own, and we both knew it.  But now he had to bring me home, just the two of us, alone.

    It was February in upstate NY, one of those crystal clear and astonishingly cold nights.  In a fit of mischief, we stopped by our community theater playhouse on the way back to my place, and decided to make snowballs and throw them at all the icicles until we had knocked off every one of them.  It was freezing and silly and surprisingly satisfying to hear 'em come tinkling down, all broken ice sparkling on the unplowed parking lot.

    We were now cold and wet and only a few blocks from my house, but just shining with the fun of the evening and with being out alone together.

    So we didn't go home.  We drove around the block to a beautiful cemetery  (yes, Carnacki-- our first kiss was in a graveyard!) and talked.  And talked.  And turned the car engine on and off, trying to keep warm.

    We were in no hurry. I think we both knew that something very special was starting, and did not need to be rushed.  Over the space of an hour or so, in that cold car under those starry skies, we gradually moved closer together for warmth until my head was resting on his shoulder, looking up at the constellations. When he finally tipped my head back and kissed me, gently, an upside-down kiss on a cold night in a graveyard, it was magical.

    It still is.

    :-)

    (Carnacki, I'm very happy now!  Thanks for this Friday night bright place)

    Being a Christian doesn't mean giving orders---it means reporting for duty.

    by mrsdbrown1 on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 07:02:00 PM PDT

    •  Great kiss story (4.00)
      Loved it! thanks for sharing.

      "September 11, 2001, already a day of immeasurable tragedy, cannot be the day liberty perished in this country." Judge Gerald Tjoflat

      by SanJoseLady on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 07:08:25 PM PDT

      [ Parent ]

    •  Awww (4.00)
      being from Cleveland I know all about kissing in a cold car.  Even with the runny noses, it can still be very romantic!

      BTW Miss Theatre Lady....I just got back from seeing the Music Man where my son landed a lecherous kiss on the leading lady and cracked up the audience.  Now that was a kiss!

      ..."no, but I have a sticky Warhead in my pocket."

      by getmeoutofdixie on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 07:11:48 PM PDT

      [ Parent ]

      •  Stage kisses (4.00)
        can be sooo much fun, too!

        (BTW, we need to plan our NC meet-up!  And think about making the drive up to Harper's Ferry for Carnacki and Pastor Dan and all's shindig on May 28th.)

        Being a Christian doesn't mean giving orders---it means reporting for duty.

        by mrsdbrown1 on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 07:40:33 PM PDT

        [ Parent ]

    •  mrsdbrown (4.00)
      We drove around the block to a beautiful cemetery  (yes, Carnacki-- our first kiss was in a graveyard!) and talked.

      Oh, you do know how to make me happy, Mrsdbrown. :)

      We can make the world a better place by laying them by the heels. -- Sherlock Holmes

      by Carnacki on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 07:14:32 PM PDT

      [ Parent ]

    •  Oh, yeah (4.00)
      Central New York winters are MADE for this kind of stuff.  You have to neck in the cars just to keep warm (giggle).  Have gotten "cold" MANY times, and helped a reticent young man work up some courage!

      We do not rent rooms to Republicans.

      by Mary Julia on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 07:31:06 PM PDT

      [ Parent ]

    •  graveyard of young love (4.00)
      This takes me WAY back.

      I lost my virginity in a graveyard. Earlier that evening, my young lover and I discovered that we each had memorized the first paragraph of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas  . . . "We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold. . ."

  •  Ian, my first love (4.00)
    I met him the summer I was 14 on a cross-country bus trip (6 weeks, 40 teenagers, 5 adults - boy did we have fun.) We hiked in the national parks and hung out in cities and listened to the Allman Brothers in the back of the bus. I thought Ian was the greatest, but for some stupid reason even though we talked for hours and had a great time together, it was clear that what he really wanted to do was chase after (stupid) Melissa.  Oh, the pain of unrequited love.  But one night, in some campground way out west, inspired by what I do not remember, he took me behind the tents and put his arms around me and kissed me.  I would love to say that this first kiss was a swooning, romantic experience, my first taste of what love could bring me, but instead I will admit that I had no idea what his tongue was doing in my mouth.

    Ian and I walked around Washington DC hand-in-hand the day that Nixon resigned, all amazed at the world we were growing up into.

  •  My VERY first kiss ... (4.00)
    was a non-starter -- he stuck his tongue in my mouth and...

    I bit it. I had no concept of "french kissing" and was utterly horrified.

    But my first kiss with my husband -- ah, now THAT was a thing of beauty. It was our first date, we'd stayed up all night talking, sitting on opposite sides of my couch. Finally, sometimes before sunrise, I blurted out, "Are you gonna kiss me, or what?"

    He smiled and moved over to me. What happened next was simply -- magical. He gave me the longest, featheriest kiss, it lasted for what felt like half an hour before he ever went any further than simply exploring my lips with his lips...

    I have NEVER had a better first kiss -- scratch that, ANY kiss -- than that kiss. I was his from that moment on.

    I miss the kind of kissing you do when you're dating. I miss the Three Week Passion thing. It seems impossible to rekindle. I think that's why so many people cheat -- that electrifying, intoxicating state of newness and exploration is not something you can ever recreate.

    But I wouldn't trade my marriage for a lifetime of Three Week Passion things.

    Rage, rage, against the lying of the Right.

    by Maryscott OConnor on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 07:08:56 PM PDT

    •  kissing as art (4.00)
      Boy, I miss those kind of kisses too.  I think we should send all the husbands to yearly remedial kissing classes where they learn the art of gentleness and anticipation.

      ..."no, but I have a sticky Warhead in my pocket."

      by getmeoutofdixie on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 07:14:25 PM PDT

      [ Parent ]

      •  It's still different (4.00)
        I understand the anticipation thing.  What show was it where the woman was about to get married and realized that was the one thing she was going to miss - the anticipation of that first kiss with a new person?  My honey is a great kisser, no complaints here, but after 4 years it's just not the same.  I still wouldn't trade him for the world, though ;)
      •  Question Time (4.00)
        Just how important are those "kinds of kisses," to you (the collective you)?

        I gotta be honest, right now I am seeing a girl and its the kind of thing where we can kiss for six hours straight, where every care in the world dissapears, and I already miss it when I say goodbye at her doorstep.

        Without elaborating much (not good at sap), good kisses too, of all varieites.  So, how important and impactful on a relationship is "the kiss" to you?

        Tim

        P.S. As a fourth grader, kids used to call me "lippy," cause I had some big lips. Now that makes me smile for this very reason.

        •  There are kisses and kisses and kisses (4.00)
          After 22 years - here's my summary of those kisses

          There are the passionate kisses - although not as many as there used to be. Interesting that the older we get these appear more randomly...not the at bedtime type, the 'yo - got 1/2 an hour for some fun' on the weekend type. The mega-passion fades but a different passion takes it's place.

          There are the 'I love you more than my heart can stand' kisses. These are the for no reason looking sappy at each other. Something will touch us emotionally and there is a special kiss that goes with that.  But we also hold hands...it makes the grandkids groan. lol

          There are all the other kisses - rushing out the door, welcome home, kisses on the neck while cooking or gardening or whatever.

          As I write this - it comes to mind that we all crave affection and touching. The more affection we get, the more we give.

          Each kiss is important in it's place...hold each other, kiss, reach out watching tv. That's what makes love, and love makes the world go round.

          End of silly sappy romantic advice!

          .

          C&J - "highly entertaining spankers, wankers and perverts." - Cosmic Debris

          by SallyCat on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 08:26:07 PM PDT

          [ Parent ]

        •  ttagaris (4.00)
          Wow! I say marry her.

          O/T Did you see what you inspired me to do here?

          We can make the world a better place by laying them by the heels. -- Sherlock Holmes

          by Carnacki on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 08:26:24 PM PDT

          [ Parent ]

        •  Seriously, you do know how to campaign (4.00)
          "The kiss" is something that is never forgotten.  The first kiss tells a woman who a man is, what kind of lover he is, how much he knows about women, how much he loves women.  Men are sadly mistaken if they don't think women spend serious time talking about kissing, how, when, where you all kiss.  

          I gotta be honest, right now I am seeing a girl and its the kind of thing where we can kiss for six hours straight, where every care in the world dissapears, and I already miss it when I say goodbye at her doorstep.

          To be honest, these words tell it all.  I'd say, 'lippy,' you have nothing to worry about, you already know the answer to your question.

          P.S. As a fourth grader, kids used to call me "lippy," cause I had some big lips. Now that makes me smile for this very reason.

          Is it just me, or is it getting warm in here?

          We're only capable of doing on the outside what we're capable of being on the inside.

          by caliberal on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 08:32:17 PM PDT

          [ Parent ]

        •  Very, very, very, very, VERY... (4.00)
          important.

          Rage, rage, against the lying of the Right.

          by Maryscott OConnor on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 09:34:36 PM PDT

          [ Parent ]

      •  It can happen (4.00)
        Every so often, my husband kisses me in that "First Kiss" kind of way, and I get goose bumps.  Maybe it will stop when we've been married longer, but I hope not.  
    •  Maryscott (4.00)
      I know what you mean...we're just happy when we can work in moments of romance without a child waking up.

      We can make the world a better place by laying them by the heels. -- Sherlock Holmes

      by Carnacki on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 07:26:39 PM PDT

      [ Parent ]

    •  You BIT his tongue? (4.00)
      Jeez Louise....And I thought MY generation of Catholic girls were dumb (snicker)

      We do not rent rooms to Republicans.

      by Mary Julia on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 07:33:33 PM PDT

      [ Parent ]

      •  Not HARD, mind you. (4.00)
        I mean, I didn't draw blood.

        Oddly enough, I would spend the next 3 years with a deadly crush on Pat, who very wisely chose to be my good friend, instead.

        But after a disastrous loss of virginity to a semi-rapist (I DID say stop, I DID say no, but he was already halfway there and there was no stopping him)...

        Pat did me a very great favour and made love to me in the gentlest and most generous fashion -- to erase the horrible memory of the first time. It was kind. And I discovered that I was over my crush.

        Rage, rage, against the lying of the Right.

        by Maryscott OConnor on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 07:38:23 PM PDT

        [ Parent ]

    •  Beautifully said Maryscott (4.00)
      But I wouldn't trade my marriage for a lifetime of Three Week Passion things.

      Agree totally...

      C&J - "highly entertaining spankers, wankers and perverts." - Cosmic Debris

      by SallyCat on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 07:40:00 PM PDT

      [ Parent ]

    •  I agree (4.00)
      the first ever kiss was NOT memorable.  Bleah.  I generally try not to think about it.

      Aaah, but the first kiss with my wife.  January 27, 1989 -- yes, I remember it well.  The previous week, we had met at her birthday party, and although I planned to stay at the party for an hour, I ended up staying until five the next morning -- just talking.  Real sparks.  No kiss, though -- I was a real gentleman in those days.

      So, Our first date.  I picked her up in downtown DC.  We stopped off for a bottle of wine (Beringer), and went back to my little hovel of a basement apartment (first year law student).  I cooked dinner (yes, that's right, I cooked).  Baked ziti.  It was really good, as I recall.

      We ate, we drank the wine, we talked.  All the sparks from the prior week were still there.  And somewhere around 10 or so, we kissed.  A really long, light wonderful kiss -- must have lasted for at least a minute, maybe more.  Followed by several more kisses.  Followed by . . . . me driving her home (that was it for THAT night, anyway).  A month later, we were living together.  Four months later, we moved to our own apartment together, and we've been together ever since.

      That was a hell of a kiss, no question.  Later this month (April 26) will be our 13th anniversary.

      Great diary, Carnacki.  As usual.

      A day may come when the courage of men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship. But it is not this day -- this day we fight

      by jsmdlawyer on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 08:00:46 PM PDT

      [ Parent ]

    •  I forgot to mention... (4.00)
      I was 15 that very first time.

      Slow starter.

      I later learned that virtually all the "Kool kodz" in school had already been having sex since 7th grade. Grossssss. Also, they were doing cocaine.

      Huh? How fucking out of touch WAS I?

      So out of touch, I had no idea how many guys in my class had crushes on me. To be fair, though, the dumbfucks never SAID anything, never asked me out -- what was I supposed to be, a fucking MINDREADER?

      Schmucks. My life might have been very different if I hadn't felt like such a fucking pariah in middle school and  high school.

      Rage, rage, against the lying of the Right.

      by Maryscott OConnor on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 08:50:57 PM PDT

      [ Parent ]

  •  Better the second time (4.00)
    As long as we're talkin' romance...

    I dated a fabulous man in college. Looking at him across the classroom -- or any room -- made my head spin and my heart race. We lost track of each other for many years, though I thought of him often.

    I bumped into his mother, who told me that he just happened to be at her house that day, and who gave me the number to call. He and I went out to eat, and I couldn't believe how strong the pull was, even after all that time.

    Time passed. On our third official date, he said, "Let's get married." I said, "Okay." And we've never looked back -- only forward.

    Seven years later, we still talk about being in love with each other, and with our 16-month-old. Second chances can change everything.

  •  Well, not my first kiss, but another (4.00)
    romantic first...

    Strangely enough, there's a connection to my
    previous happy story
    , where I happened to mention that I know more about roses than probably the vast majority of males.  Well, this is why.

    Back when I was a freshman in college, I had a workstudy job in the admissions office.  My very first job out of college would also be as an admissions officer, for one year before I went off to law school.  The admissions office is in the former home of the university president, set off from the main academic quad by the gardens, named for some female relative of the founder.  I would cut across this garden every day going from work to class, instead of taking the road and sidewalk (which with it's tree-lined approach to the chapel was quite beautiful in its own right).  On sunny days, you could always find coeds studying or more often tanning in the gardens.  There's this big English terraced section of the gardens, but there's also the woodsy part on the edges, with trails.  One day, going through that part, I found this girl by herself studying the trees, taking notes, etc.  I thought she was cute, and it was fairly unusual to see someone doing that, so I went up and talked to her.  I think I said something embarrassingly lame, like "You know, you're getting dirt all over your pants when you do that."  She was pleasant, and we started chatting, and I got her name.  It turned out that she worked in the gardens as her job, was a biology major specializing in ecology, and had worked in a greenhouse before.  Over the next few weeks, I started seeing her more often in the gardens, and we became friends.  She would tell me these random factoids about the plants, but she would always leave me with one about roses.  Like "This is Rio Samba, it's a hybrid tea, and you can see the bright orange," or "The holy grail of rose breeders is to develop a blue rose," or "Mr. Lincoln, is a hybrid tea, it has a deep, rich smell and supposedly the petals are fuzzy - like Lincoln's beard."  One day, after we had both shared lunch at the small cafe in the gardens, we passed a bunch of roses and I began to tease her about her penchant for rose facts.  She gives me this "when will this idiot get it" look and asks me, "Haven't you ever wondered why I kept on telling you about roses, of all flowers?"  The oh-yeah look hits me, that I'm missing the signals, and I lean in to kiss her.

    And now the second part of the story.  There are 5 "unofficial graduation requirements" at my school: climb the auditorium dome, sex in the gardens, sex in the stacks, driving the traffic circle backwards, and tunneling.  So a few weeks later, we're coming home and we're walking through the gardens, and she makes a comment about the "graduation requirements."  I give a semi-inebriated (okay, okay, very inebriated) rant on how inane they were, which I don't remember (being you know, inebriated) but the gist being:  "I mean, every school with a dome is going to have kids that try and climb it.  Driving  the circle is so easy it's pointless.  Tunneling is kinda cool, but isn't exactly original either.  Sex in the stacks, well, have you been to the stacks?  They've got those thick concrete walls and the mazelike shelves, and the old building new building set-up.  Come in on a Friday when it's deserted, I don't care how much of a screamer you are, you're not getting heard.  And sex in the gardens?  Are you kidding me?  It's the perfect closer.  You take your date with you on a stroll through the gardens as the evening ends, it's the perfect romantic thing to do.  Guys have been using the gardens for sex ever since it opened, I bet.  If you can't, you suck as a guy."  So, she says something like "So, the question is, do you suck as a man or not?"  I say, "Is this an offer?"  She again gives me the "why won't this idiot get it" look and replies, "No, it's a challenge."  I say something that we both thought was witty at the time like "I work hard, I'm sure I'll be up to it" and I whisk her off into one of those wooded areas.

    Out of curiosity, is that first kiss girl now Mrs. Carnacki, and do you still keep up with her if not?  The co-star of this story and I broke up after about a year, and though it didn't go badly and we remained friends, I have talked to her exactly twice in the 5 years since we graduated.

    •  sh59 (4.00)
      The first kiss was not Ms. Carnacki.

      I did keep up with my first girlfriend for a time. We dated off and on all through high school and for a time afterwards.

      Here's sort of an epilogue:

      During one of the lowest points in my life, as my first marriage was in the horrible throes of ending, I sat on the edge of the tub thinking terrible dark thoughts. Then, like the old man in Stephen King's The Shining, I was hit with an overpowering thought of her. I hadn't seen or spoken to her in about seven years at that point so I was quite surprised by the clarity of the image.

      I remembered her phone number from growing up. Her parents still lived in the same house and gave me her number in Florida. I called and she told me she had thought of me and that I was in trouble and needed help.

      She was right. I was. She told me to come visit her and I did. My soon-to-be ex-wife, who remains one of my closest friends (my life is weird), drove me to the airport.

      My old girlfriend did more to heal me than anyone can imagine. She's one of the most amazin women on the planet.

      We can make the world a better place by laying them by the heels. -- Sherlock Holmes

      by Carnacki on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 07:46:58 PM PDT

      [ Parent ]

  •  Oh boy... (4.00)
    Big grin here, Carnacki.

    So the Dutchman and I first met (in person - the internets kind of count, but not the same thing) in March 2004.  March 12, to be exact.

    I was very, very nervous, waiting at the airport, right outside security, because, as you all know, the War on Terror™ doesn't let you meet people at the gate.

    I kept wondering "Is he gonna be a 60 year old greasy haired fat guy with a latex wardrobe?  Or is he really gonna be the guy in the picture he sent?  Is he going to be an asshole, or worse yet, a psychopath with a taste for torture and murder?"

    Well, I just stood there in a cold sweat... and then I saw him.  Yes, he was the same guy as in the picture.  He saw me and just smiled, the biggest and most wonderful smile I've ever seen.

    He walked past the War on Terror™ "TSA is totally into your shoes and stuff" security gate, and I just ran up to him.  He hugged me so hard he lifted me off my feet.  I knew he was tall, but damn, 6'4" ... Strong too.  And I looked into his eyes, the greenest eyes I've ever seen, and he just held me.

    Then he kissed me.  I don't have words for it except I had tears of happiness in my eyes, and so did he.

    Ok, this is the corniest comment I've ever posted.

    I'll finish it off with a corny sentence.

    When I looked into his eyes, I knew he was the right one.

    And d'oh, less than two weeks 'til the wedding!  I'm not stressed... just full of wonderful anticipation.

  •  First Kiss (4.00)
    When I saw Carnacki's post, I immediately ran to the bookshelf to pull down my high school yearbook to rekindle the memory of my first kiss.  I grew up on a farm, outside a small city in Central Wisconsin.  Our small high school was in an athletic conference that spanned long distances.  My boyfriend was a wrestler.  He wrestled 185 pounds and that night he won his match on points.  I could see when he got on the bus that he was happy.  He slid into the seat next to me on the bus.  His hair was still a little wet and he smelled of soap.  He locked fingers with me, then turned into me and kissed me.  I remember thinking that the whole bus would roar, but it didn't.  Five minutes later, as the bus started to roll into the crisp winter night, he was asleep.  
  •  Heh. (4.00)
    My first kiss came during a game of hide-and-seek, at church, in a broom closet.

    You would figure with a start like that, I wouldn't be struggling with my faith as much as I currently am.

    Go figure.

    Tim

  •  So many first kisses, so little time (4.00)
    Freddie Ducel lived next door, he was a luscious cross between James Dean and Elvis.  I remember his sultry self, his hair, his hands and his lips, how I remember those lips.  I was 10 and flirted with him incessantly until one day he invited me to go down to the canal.  I yelled yesssssssss as I ran down the dirt path towards the water.  When he caught up with me he had a handful of apricots and as he extended his arm he said, "I'll give you these, one apricot for one kiss."  It was the beginning of a lifetime love affair with kissing.

    The Cascade Theater was our world on Saturdays.  We would pay our $.25 and stay all day.  When we were little girls we went to see the cartoons first and then the feature films.  Sister and I stayed for hours learning the dialogue and then running home to act out our favorite scenes in front of the mirror.  Parrish was my favorite, I was Connie Stevens and was brilliant in the scene where she tearfully tells Parrish she isn't a bad girl, she's not a tramp, she's stuck in a small town doing the best she can.  

    Troy Donahue breaks her heart but before he does she rubs linament on the burning rash that has spread across his back from harvesting the tobacco fields.  He takes her face in his hands and leans down to kiss her.  I used the back of my hand to practice their kiss, Sister would tell me to move my head around and make noise, to moan and to open my mouth ever so slightly.  I thought she was so grown up, so worldly, there was no doubt she knew of what she spoke.

    It was in the Cascade Theater that Herb Bonnie guided me to a row in the back and put his arm around me.  I was in eighth grade but knew I was trapped in a body that was far younger than who I really was in the world.  Herb Bonnie handed me the bag of popcorn and leaned in, closer and closer.  He placed his lips on mine opening up my mouth with his tongue and kissed me, my first French kiss.  I still remember it to this day, the sensation I felt, how it wasn't clumsy, how experienced Herb Bonnie seemed to be and the pride I felt for choosing so right when so many girls talked about how the next time would be so different, so much better.

    I remember so many first kisses.  The first time you kiss someone who makes you feel weak in the knees.  I remember how excited I was when my fiance and I discovered we both love kissing, that kissing is one of the most intimate things you can do with the person you love.  Sam has stolen my heart in so many ways but one of the best is how often he kisses me throughout the day and night.  It is simply irresistibe being with a man who gets what the big deal is with kissing.

    We're only capable of doing on the outside what we're capable of being on the inside.

    by caliberal on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 07:29:16 PM PDT

  •  Ahh, Carnacki. . . (4.00)
    As I've read your sweet story and the other memories written here, my happy story is not that first Kiss (rather hightly overrated,IMO), but the stroll down memory lane of a collage of kisses to be remebered and a special moment to recall with lingering fondness those occaisional kisses that drop you to your knees.

    Yowzer. . .it's getting pretty warm in here, but pleansantly so.

    Thanks everyone.

    "Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way, when you criticize them, you're a mile away and you have their shoes."

    by shirlstars on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 07:32:47 PM PDT

  •  A "last kiss" story... (4.00)
    My happy story is that I don't have to endure everyone kissing the pope's butt any more (or at least I don't have to try to restrain myself so much). <whew>

    Speaking of kisses...anyone wants to try and defend the pope's anti-gay record now can just lean over and kiss my big fat, one-legged, gay white ass!

    Happy, happy, joy, joy....

    "I love mankind; it's people I can't stand." --Linus/Peanuts

    by homogenius on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 07:33:02 PM PDT

  •  My first kiss... (3.93)
    It was the summer of 1986, is was a very impressionable 13 years of age. We had spent most of the day skateboarding, as we did a lot in those days, and were relaxing with some iced tea and watching skate videos.

    We sat on the couch, just enjoying each other's company. Just two young kids without many friends other than each other.

    I could feel the growing tension as we sat next to each other, knowing that there was a chemistry that went far beyond our friendship. That's when it happened...

    I was a little caught off guard at first, but Paul seemed to know what he was doing, so I went with it. Things got very weird after that.

    Paul stopped coming around and our friendship deteriorated to nothing.

    I have never kissed another man since.

    C&J - "highly entertaining spankers, wankers and perverts." - Cosmic Debris

    by the holy handgrenade on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 07:33:18 PM PDT

  •  Now for the REAL first kiss (4.00)

    We had attended a mutual friend's wedding, I as a guest of the bride, she as a bridesmaid.

    She was tall, dark-haired, shapely, strong of limb, a former college volleyball player.

    She was brilliant, beautiful, dazzling, amusing, funny, charming, and for some inexplicable reason, attracted to me, too.

    Sometimes you wait for a sign, one of the conventional omens that sanction the meeting of two potential lovers.

    Guess who caught the garter belt?

    Guess who caught the bouquet?

    And guess who got married and had kids. :)

    She had come to South Carolina for the wedding; naturally, she had to learn the local dance, which has the unfortunate luck to be called the shag.

    No, no, this wasn't that sort of an evening. Minds. Gutter. Out. Now.

    But we danced, and we talked, and we danced. And perhaps there was some drinking involved.

    And we went outside in the late summer evening, and oh, yes: we kissed.

    This was not the kiss of novices, or of undue expectations, it was the kiss of appropriate expression after several hours of quite public and well-observed and most traditional and sappy falling in love.

    Per the Gospel of Bull Durham, it was indeed one of those slow, wet kisses that last for three days.

    Well, it sure seemed like it, anyway.

    We went walking; when she grew tired, I carried her on my back.

    We walked all the way to my house from the reception.

    That was about a mile and a half away.

    Then we walked the half-moonlit night some more.

    Then we went inside, turned on the television, and feel asleep on the sofa, me on my back, she on my shoulder.

    I had never been comfortable, ever, falling asleep in the intimate presence of another person. She had never done so.

    And yet we did.

    It was then, not at the reception, not in a dozen letters, not in a dozen trips back and forth to grow acquainted with the full extent of our feelings for one another.

    My fate was sealed the moment I awoke, and saw the top of her sleeping head, rising and falling with the syncopation of our resting breaths, and knew that this shoulder was born to be hers.

    Defend your freedom, one threatened judge at a time.

    by cskendrick on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 07:36:37 PM PDT

    •  Double "Awwwww...." (4.00)
      from me and the spouse; just had to read this one aloud to him, cs. :)

      At my age, all the kisses seem to merge into one big lump (sort of like the dirty clothes hamper)...but I'm enjoying all these stories anyway...

      "It's an unnerving thought that we may be the living universe's supreme achievement and its worst nightmare simultaneously." -- Bill Bryson

      by Cali Scribe on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 09:17:47 PM PDT

      [ Parent ]

  •  First Kiss... (4.00)
    was with my wife when both of us were sixteen.  I finally screwed up enough courage to attempt it and kissed her goodnight in her parents driveway.  It had quite an impact as I nearly fell over into the hedge. I triggered the automatic light while madly waving my arms to catch my balance. The light  illuminated her father who was sitting on the porch not 30 feet away.  

    That's what I'm on about. Did you see him repressing me?

    by sommervr on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 07:40:31 PM PDT

  •  Okay, I REALLY (4.00)
    kissed my cousin.  My first cousin Paul, to be exact.  I think we were about eight.  We fell madly in love with each other up at Thousand Island Park, where the family spent summers.  Our parents thought it was so "cute".  Well, one night Paul (he was Canadian, so he was far more experienced) decided to teach me how to kias.  Hey it was fun! No tongues or anything, but fun!  We never told our parents; we were pretty sure it would freak them out.

    I didn't really learn to kiss until I was 21, and taught by a master.  Since then, I have been very proud of my kissing ability.

    We do not rent rooms to Republicans.

    by Mary Julia on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 07:41:45 PM PDT

  •  My husband's first love is on my mind tonight (4.00)
    Hey, Happy Storytellers,

    We could use some warm thoughts tonight. It's funny that Carnacki chose a story about first kisses and young love. Today, we found out that Mr. Jamfan's first love, his college girlfriend Vicki (yes, Mr. Jamfan started this dating thing quite late!), who is still a good friend and a lovely person, has cancer of the liver and lungs. Her prognosis is not good. Tragically, the discovery of the cancer came as a result of an emergency C-Section performed Wednesday, when Vicki delivered her second daughter, Claire, in her 30th week of pregnancy. So Claire is quite tiny (about 3 pounds), though her outlook right now seems promising. Her Mom's, though, is another story. So if I might, I ask for your prayers and/or warm thoughts for Vicki, Iian, Madelyn, and Claire. Thank you.

    Angela

    The public wants what the public gets, but I don't get what this society wants -- Paul Weller

    by jamfan on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 07:53:59 PM PDT

    •  Ugh, that really brought down the whole concept (4.00)
      of happy stories. Many apologies. OK, my first kiss: Jay Catalioto, in front of our high school, where we were freshman, on the night of the Halloween Dance in (it can't be this long ago...) 1983. I tossed and turned all night that night, replaying that kiss over and over. I haven't done that since.

      The public wants what the public gets, but I don't get what this society wants -- Paul Weller

      by jamfan on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 07:58:57 PM PDT

      [ Parent ]

      •  That first girl friend is now your friend (4.00)
        That you can share the joy of birth and the pain of the cancer discovery together is what makes us human.

        Happy Stories is the love for this friend, for the beauty of the new baby, and life makes us cry to get there sometimes...

        My thoughts and prayers go out to your family and friends.

        C&J - "highly entertaining spankers, wankers and perverts." - Cosmic Debris

        by SallyCat on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 08:15:43 PM PDT

        [ Parent ]

      •  It reminds us how precious what we have is (4.00)
        That's imporant.  I hope your friend will be okay.  I hope her baby will be okay.
    •  Angela (4.00)
      She'll certainly be in my thoughts and prayers.

      Ben

      We can make the world a better place by laying them by the heels. -- Sherlock Holmes

      by Carnacki on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 08:27:53 PM PDT

      [ Parent ]

  •  I waited at the airport... (4.00)
    for the man I had met on the internet, in the fall of 1999, in a quit smoking support group, a year before.  

    It had grown gradually.  Neither he nor I were particiating in the group to meet someone, but there was a chemistry.  We joked together, and eventually I wrote him asking if we could e-mail each other privately.  He wrote back a very sweet note (that sounded a bit panicked) that said that he wasn't looking for a relationship, and he hadn't meant to lead me on.  I wrote back that it was okay if we didn't have a relationship, but I would like to write him sometimes.  The e-mails grew more frequent, then, after a few weeks, I bought a microphone and recorded my voice to send him a message wishing him a happy birthday.  

    We exchanged phone numbers. He was afraid I wouldn't like his voice.  He was afraid I would be disappointed he didn't have a French accent (he was in Montreal, I was in California).  I loved his voice.  The calls grew more frequent, but we wanted to go slowly, so we set a date to meet months in the future.  September 9, 2000.  The wait seemed to take forever. We came to talk on the phone an hour every day, and sent each other long and frequent e-mails, discussing hopes and dreams and favorite colors and what books we'd want on a desert island.

    The day arrived. I had heard stories of people who were stood up at the airport.  The long distance person simply couldn't handle meeting in person.  My mother told me about someone who had been told their love had died, only to find that she had made it up to avoid meeting him.  I drove 3 hours to the airport. I still remember sitting by the gate (you could go all the way to the jetway back then). I read a book, but gave it up after I realzed I had read the same page 5 times.  

    People started getting off the plane.  And more people.  And more.  He wasn't there.  The people stopped.  No more people.  Oh, wait... it was just a slow down.  More people.  And more.  It was a big, full plane.  Every time a bald man appeared my hopes soared.  Every time I was disappointed.  Finally, I realized he wasn't getting off the plane.  He had lost his nerve.  There were no more people.  

    Except... there were a few more people coming out of the gate, and one of them was bald. It was him.  He was one of the last 4 people off the plane. He looked to the left, but I was sitting right in front of the gate. I called him over.  I knew my legs wouldn't hold me up, so I didn't try to stand.  He came over. He was wearing a pure white cotton shirt and jeans. I grabbed his sleeve and said "You're here, you're really here".  I can still feel the cotton under my fingers. And started crying, and we held each other.  He says he looked over my shoulder and saw a women looking at us with a sweet look in her eyes.  I just held him, and cried.  

    We got his luggage, and walked back to the car.  I leaned against the car and we shared our first real kiss.  It was wonderful.  

    It's been over 4 years and We've been married 3 1/2 years now, but I'll never forget the magic of that moment I first saw him get off the plane. And I'll never forget leaning against the car for our first real kiss. Or the feeling I had leaving him at the airport the first time. That's not a happy story... but it had a happy ending.  

    •  Happy endings... (none)
      sometimes transition into happy beginnings, and that's the wonder of what happened here.  I am the object of that woman's affections and I am the luckiest man in the world.  You might want to print that last sentence out and store it somewhere special so that you could show it to your grandchildren as proof that you met an honest-to-goodness celebrity: The luckiest man in the world.  I don't think it would be right for me to pad my wife's collection of fours with another vote from me.  But she knows how I feel.  And purely from a pragmatic perspective; let's rejoice in the fact that she's hauled a liberal (yes, I will use that word and take it back from those who have stolen it) into this country to help contribute to the rebirth of the American Legacy of truth, justice, and brotherhood.  
  •  My first kiss by someone famous (4.00)
    No sweet story here, but people usually find it entertaining.

    I grew up in L.A. where I came in contact with lots of famous people, but the first (and only) time I was actually kissed by a famous person happened when I lived in Portland, OR (although, it wasn't the first time I was hit on by a famous person...but that's another story).

    This happened several years ago.  The Who kicked off their Quadrophenia Tour in Portland.  Billy Idol played the bellboy.  At the time, I moonlighted on Friday nights at my housemate's club as a cocktail waitress.  The place was a combination karaoke/salsa club (the salsa club was downstairs).  

    One of the bartenders had met Billy Idol in the bar of the hotel they were staying in, and she and Billy "hit it off," as they say (this bartender looked just like one of those women in that Robert Palmer video).

    So, she got back stage passes to the concert, and I was one of the lucky ones who got to go, along with my housemate and three other very attractive women (go figure).

    After the concert (which was just ok, to me... not my cup of tea, I guess), the bartender (who apparently stayed backstage the whole time) came and got us and we all went in the limo with Billy Idol back to the hotel for the after party.

    Of course, we left before the encore, where The Who came back on stage to perform their classic hits (which I really would have liked to see).  That meant we were the only people at the after party (in the lounge of the hotel, closed to the public).  

    So there we are, a table of six women and Billy and his manager.  I don't know how this happened, but I was sitting next to Billy and the bartender was sitting across from him.  

    There was awkward silence, so I decided to break the ice by asking Billy some inane question.  The next thing I know, Billy and I are in this one-on-one conversation, the rest of the table is just staring at us silent, and the bartender is shooting darts at me with her eyes.

    I had noticed earlier that my housemate had gone to the restroom, so I thought that would be a good way to diffuse the situation.  So, I say to Billy, "Excuse me, I need to use the restroom," and I say to the table, "where is it?"

    Billy jumps up says, "I'll show you."

    Grrrr.  This isn't going as I planned.

    As soon as we're out of sight, Billy attacks me.  Seriously.  Hands ALL OVER me and a BIG OL' KISS.  

    I push him off me and say something to the effect of WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?  He replies some nonsense that I didn't quite catch `cause I was thinking about how I could ditch him in the restroom.

    Which is what I did.  

    My housemate is in there and she starts whining about how his manager doesn't want to go back to her club, like it's not good enough for Billy, and I just roll my eyes, listening patiently.

    Well, we leave the restroom, and there he is!  Waiting for me!  What the...

    So, he asks me if I want to go smoke a joint.

    I politely say no, I don't smoke pot.  (Honestly, it makes me sick.  I think I'm allergic to it.)

    But my housemate is jumping up and down saying, "yes, yes, yes" and "please, please, please."  

    I say, "You two go ahead."  But apparently he doesn't want to go without me, so I say, "OK, fine."

    We go up to his hotel room.  They smoke the joint.  We're actually having a good time (nothing weird, just fun) when suddenly POUND POUND POUND on the door.  Billy opens it, and it's one of the women we were with (not the bartender) and she starts yelling, "You are so fucking rude!  You left [the bartender] down there alone for an hour!" Etc.  Billy shuts the door on her, which I found incredibly funny for some reason.  

    Then she pounds on it again, he opens it, and this time I leave.  I really didn't want any part of that scene.

    Now, I go down to the lobby to find our table to retrieve my purse, and suddenly the place is packed.  The after party has begun, and The Who and crew have arrived.  Well, no one's at the table, so I search for Billy's manager.  I find him and find out my purse is in his hotel room.  So I go with him to fetch my purse.  

    As we're walking toward the elevator, Roger Daltry sees us and (swear to god) heads directly toward us and gets on the elevator with us.  After some small talk, he invites me for a drink (although, apparently, all he drinks is water).

    I politely decline, get my purse and call for a taxi.  

    I sometimes think, "Man, I should have gone for it!"  (Especially with Roger Daltry.)  But then, I think, "Nah."  It's much more satisfying, sometimes, to know you could have, but didn't.

    •  Hehehe (4.00)
      Oh the irony of my post landing right underneath yours.  The rest of my honey's band are for a large part in it for the chicks. What is it about some dopey hairy guy - put him behind an instrument, and he's suddenly the sexiest man alive? The flip side of that is when so many girls do throw themselves at someone (like Billy Idol), he can't seem to get it through his head that some of us still have more discriminating tastes (and aren't into sloppy seconds).
  •  First grade (4.00)
    He sat behind me in class.  Tapped me on the shoulder one day, and when I turned around his lips were there.  We starting "going togther", and he proposed to me with a plastic swan ring. I broke up with him because my girl friends told me to.  I think the whole thing lasted about 3 days ;)

    First kiss with my honey - we met through my ex who books bands at a bar in town (my current honey is a musician, too).  Once the ex and I had been split up for six months or so I decided to drop the honey an email, and we arranged a first date.  We spent at least 10 hours together that day because we just didn't want the date to end - but no kiss.  We went out 4-5 times after that (still no kiss) when finally I went to his show one night, we ended up at an all night diner with friends afterward, then I asked if he wanted to come to my lab to see my fish embryos (at 3am, yes I'm a geek.) So we went by, played with the microscopes, and when we were parting ways in the garage, he moved in for the kiss (finally!) In front of a security camera, too.  I've always wondered if they've got that on tape ;) Apparently his brother had told him that he had to kiss me that night or would risk the perpetual "just friends" with the added "and you've got more than enough girl friends".  One great thing about that first kiss and all of the waiting for it is that I trust him more than I've ever trusted anyone. He's on the road with his band a lot - gone for the whole month of April.  I never worry about him being led astray.  Hell if it took him 2 weeks with me, groupies haven't a chance in one night! ;)

  •  The first Kiss, the French Kiss (4.00)
    It was when I was 15. Back in Ft. Lauderdale again. We use to go to the beach a lot and I was very tall and way past the AA cup and blonde. But scared still with no confidence that anyone would want to date me. And one of the Seniors at the Military Air Academy use to see me at the beach and finally he talked to me one day. He was cute, but I was sure he was too fast for me, heavens forbid, and figured he was only interested in one thing. You know how it was, Catholic virgin saving it for marriage. Woe de me. So he calls me and invites me to his graduation and I agreed. So my DAD, yes, my DAD, drove me to the school and let me off. I didn't know anyone and sat by myself. And after the celebration he came and got me and we just sat on some stairs and talked. And then he went for the kiss. Now, my friends and I had been practicing the French Kiss with the hand. I guess this would resemble the Sheri Lewis puppet, but if you used the thumb and index finger to create a hole, it was just about the size of a mouth. Picture 5 girls sitting around practicing French Kissing. I am shaking my head now. So I knew what to expect, but when he went right in with the tongue, I was not sure I was doing it right, so I held up my hand and said, "Oh no, I don't do THAT". Dumb Dumb Dumb!

    Luckily I went out with him again the next year and by then I had the whole kiss way under control.In fact, I am told, I perfected it. So I have to say, the first kiss was funny although I was not laughing then. I was sure my life was over. Now, I know better. It was just beginning.

    By the way, 3 crocus and a few daffodils are out and we are back in our shorts. Spring is here and it is wonderful.  
     

    Fix the Problems, Don't create new ones

    by BarnBabe on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 08:15:17 PM PDT

    •  BarnBabe (none)
      We've got a few popping up too. I was outside with the girls and lost track of time and almost didn't post tonight.

      We can make the world a better place by laying them by the heels. -- Sherlock Holmes

      by Carnacki on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 08:40:02 PM PDT

      [ Parent ]

  •  Ah yes (4.00)
    I was 18, it was Halloween, we were having a nice wild party, her name was Lydia and she was dressed as an angel.

    Thing was, I was a wee bit sauced. So I woke up the next morning having had some pretty wild dreams about this girl, who I'd gone on a few dates with before, showing up at our Halloween party dressed like an angel and me making out with her. Funny dream, I thought.

    I get out of bed and walk down the main hallway of the place I was living at. A friend sees me and says, "wow, you sure had a wild night last night - especially after Lydia showed up!" Suddenly, I realized I hadn't been dreaming. (For those wondering, she wasn't with me when I woke up.)

    Since this is a happy story diary, I won't relate the rest of it. It wasn't my proudest moment, but I at least think I did right by her. Americans should use the term "snog" more, because that experience was a snog, not really a first kiss.

    That came a year or so later. I had matured a great deal in the intervening years. I was living somewhere else now, a smaller place with older undergrads (mostly 20, 21, 22), so we partied but weren't as reckless as before. We had a small, in-house affair with a few invited guests, including one stunning woman named Sarah (I have a proven weakness for women with that name). She was about 3 years older than I, and had lived in the house previously, but did not now. Several of my housemates had been saying some very good things about her before, and so when I met her I was a bit intimidated to be in the presence of a legend. She was a 5 foot 10 Irish lass, curly red hair and soft white skin.

    After a few hours, we're all a little buzzed, but still in control of our wits. And I begin to notice a gleam in her eye, a certain angle of her smile, when she would talk with me. And I knew what it meant. Not long thereafter I invited her back to my room, and we kissed. It was beautiful, she was beautiful, I was beautiful. I felt great. We didn't do anything more than kiss, but I felt on top of the world at that point.

    Thing was, she was seeing someone else, a guy who was also 23. She and I hung out a few more times, but nothing came of it, and that was fine with me. Our paths later crossed in an amusing circumstance, but that was all. And that was OK, because she'd already provided me with one of the happiest moments, one of the most serene and memorable moments, of my life.

    And I have to say, I felt good about myself because I finally figured out that night how to read a woman's expressions. It all clicked. Thing was, I then realized how many opportunities I had missed with other women in the 5 years before that point. Ah well. I never missed an opportunity again.

    I'm not part of a redneck agenda - Green Day

    by eugene on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 08:20:50 PM PDT

  •  A parting of the mists (4.00)
    I was a tomboy who liked boys. John wasn't a tomboy, but he liked boys too.

    Androgynous wouldn't describe John, effeminate only size. His short spiky bleached hair defiant over translucent skin framing large cornflower blue eyes. He could have been mistaken for a British punk with his funny torn plaid pants, safety pins, and cherry red lips. Or a junkie.

    It was one of those warm mist laden nights. A stranger throwing a party, an unknown house, alcohol flowing, laughter and snippets of conversations rising and receding in the mist. Like a dream, I felt part observer director, part player. Why was I here? Inwardly I felt something slip loose. The observer still watching, but no longer directing the sequence of events. I ran laughing, like an escaped lunatic among fellow inmates.

    In the backyard the pool glowed. I tripped, rolling upon the wet grass, John out of nowhere beneath me. Feeling like an amazon above over his tiny frame, his eyes caught mine. The world stopped, no thoughts, just pure emotion, but blank, yet as if we were a single entity. We stared at each other, surprise ringing the edge of our consciousness. I could feel his struggle as if it were mine as he labored to speak. I wanted to tell him to stop, knowing what he was trying to say.
    "Can I kiss you?" he asked.
    "Yes," I replied.

    In that kiss it was as if something had been completed. A last act. A moment outside of daily reality, past this dimension, from another world. A crossroads intersecting for a brief span, vanishing with the mist. Neither one of us ever spoke about it, nor pursued anything farther. It was all we needed from the other.

    Halley's comet and a republican telling the truth share a common trait. It happens twice in a lifetime if you are lucky.

    by primate on the left on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 08:30:37 PM PDT

  •  My wife an I (4.00)
    met on a Thursday - we'd both just joined a Student Activities program committee.  

    Saturday we had a big comedian in - (Rich Hall....)  First words I ever said to her were "you can't roll tape worth a damn"

    despite that - and despite my driving a car that looked like a rolling scrap heap - she agreed to let me drive her to the afterparty....

    we spent the entire after party talking.  Left about 1.  Talking in the car - I missed the turn to her dorm....  asked if she wanted to see my office (had an office in the other campus dorm)

    She said ok.   Showed her the office... we talked.....

    and talked.....    

    and about 5am, we kissed.

    and kissed....

    and kissed....

    been together ever since.

    had a follow up meeting with the committee on Monday.   The advisor asked how long we'd been dating.   Nobody believed we'd just met.

    dated for 5 years (she wouldn't get married until she graduated - just to stick it to some old busybodies in her home town who'd claimed she was just going to get her Mrs degree).

    We've had some rough times.  We're both stubborn, hot headed packrats.... but have been married for 13 years, 2 kids - and a lot more kisses...

    Hmmm - getting late - Think I better head upstairs now and exchange a couple more :-)

    thanks batbob...

    I support Soulforce - seeking Justice for God's GLBT children. Please join us.

    by its simple IF you ignore the complexity on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 08:32:02 PM PDT

  •  Awwww (4.00)
    There are some really lovely stories here.  The tale of my first kiss isn't nearly that exciting.  I was just about 15 and damn it, it was time.  I had never met this boy before that night and, while he was certainly good-looking (I apparently earned some enemies that night--oh, to be in middle school again), there was no chemistry.  However, he was 14 and I was 14.  Enough said.

    We were at a school function (Sports Nite--the high school divides in half and competes in relays, skits, and dances.  It's an annual tradition stretching back to the 50's and 60's.  It's fun).  We wandered outside to the track and talked for a bit.  Then we started kissing.  I distinctly remember two things: the smell of Dakar Noir was heavy in the air and I was vaguely grossed out by the whole process.

    On an entirely different "first kiss" note, a friend of mine just delivered her first baby.  I imagine her first kiss to her brand new son had to be pretty magical.  

  •  No kiss here, but... (4.00)
    I just got back from an evening that was Not A Date for various reasons.  We had dinner, we got ice cream, we went for a walk, we sat and talked.  No kisses, because Not A Date.  But very nice.  I look forward to seeing what, if anything, happens in the future.

    (This, by the way, is not my usual username.  I have another one I'm not going to attach this story, however vague, to.)

  •  Kiss of a different kind (4.00)
    One of my earliest memories of childhood was the Christmas Eve that I was 5.  I was a typical kid climbing the walls waiting for Santa to come.  My Dad was sitting in his chair reading the paper and my Mom was in her chair sewing.  I kept hearing a jingle sound, but couldn't figure out where it was coming from.  My Dad said that if I didn't go to bed, Santa would never come.  We went off to bed and in a few minutes heard a clomping sound coming from the roof.  We wanted to get up to see what was going on but we knew better.  

    After a while, my parents came into the room and told us to get up.  Santa had come.  We got to pick one present to open that night.  I picked the largest which turned out to be a beautiful doll which I fell in love with.  I couldn't stop hugging and kissing my parents.

    I kept refusing to go to bed and my Dad finally picked me up and carried me to my room.  I gave him another hug and kiss for my doll.  I felt bad because I hadn't gotten him anything.  He kissed my forehead and told me that having a daughter was the best gift he would ever have in his life.

    My Mom continued to jingle her bowl of pins and my Dad continued to clomp on the roof to pretend to be Santa after my sister and brother came along.  Years later after we knew who Santa really was, we would continue to talk about those Christmas Eves and wonder at how we got suckered by our parents for so long.

    All the stories about first kisses made me thing of the first I remember from my Dad.  I never forgot that kiss on my forehead or the words he spoke to me that night.  My Dad died in '82 and writing this brings tears of happiness to my eyes remembering how special he made me feel for beinging his daughter.

  •  My first kiss (4.00)
    The memory of my first kiss is seared into my brain but it's not the kiss I remember.

    Before I go on, I should explain that I have Social Anxiety Disorder, a fear of social situations.  It's hard to describe but I can say for me, I can't even watch a potentially embarrassing scene on TV.  I have to change the channel or cover my ears and close my eyes.  As a result, my most vivid memories are the embarrassing ones; I can remember each excruciating detail.  

    With that out of the way, mine was at an amusement park when I was 15.  It came at the very end of the day and the only thing I can recall is the relief I felt when it was over.  What I really remember was my friend saying "Your not supposed to kiss with your eyes open".  That's the only thing I can clearly remember, I still get fidgety when I think about it.  I know it seems insignificant to most people, but I can't even post a comment with out rewriting it twelve times.  Even then, I delete as least half instead of posting them.

    Thankfully, I only had to go thru the hell of dating a few more times before I met my wife.

    "When your opponent is drowning, throw the son of a bitch an anvil." -- James Carville

    by sgilman on Fri Apr 08, 2005 at 10:17:47 PM PDT

  •  A Story of Two Kossacks' First Kiss (4.00)
    (Although I was the only kossack at the time).

    My girlfriend (known around here as LiberalCatholic) had been dating for about one month.  I should note that I started to make a serious move towards asking her out by saying that I needed someone to watch the NH primary returns with.  Her ankle had been serious injured a day or so after she attended my roomate's and I's Iowa Caucus party (we're such dorks).  Considering her condition and the resulting boredom, she indulged me.  Eventually I asked her out and she said yes on the night of mini-Tuesday.  Of course, it didn't seem like I was very good luck for her at first, considering that an hour or so after I asked her out she found out her grandmother had cancer and the next day her great aunt died.  

    Anyway, we had our first kiss after we'd been dating for about one month.  She was a Freshman (I was a sophomore) and I am her first boyfriend and she seemed rather personally conservative (that's the Catholic school part of LiberalCatholic and her former shyness around guys).  So basically, I was very hestitant to try to kiss her.  I was afraid I'd do it to early and she'd freak out.  Many times we'd be watching TV in her room together and I would start to move towards her and then I'd stop myself.  Well anyway being a young couple, we'd go on walks from time to time.  We were (and still are) students at St. Mary's College of Maryland, which has a beautiful campus with a gorgeous waterfront view of the St. Mary's River (one of those college ratings books ranked us as having the second most beautiful campus in the nation).  Well anyway, right next to the college is Historic St. Mary's City, the partially reconstructed archaelogical site that was first capitol of Maryland.  In the "middle" of historic and near the waterfront, there is a beautiful wooded area with a hiking trail.  Since it was a beautiful day out and it was just starting to get cool around 5 PM in March, we decided to go for a hike on that trail.  Eventually, we came to a quaint wooden bridge over a tiny stream that lead down into the river a couple hundred feet away.  We were covered by thin canopy of trees with beams of sunlight breaking through the gaps.  I started to tell her about how wonderful I had felt over the past month but then I just stopped and we looked at each other for a moment.  I embraced her and we kissed (she later claims that shortly after this moment, she mumbled under her breath "I don't know what I'm doing.  If she did, I didn't hear it.).  It was her first kiss and our first kiss together.  It wasn't magical in the physical sense (although we both soon caught the hang of it), but it was incredibly emotionally satisfying for both of us.  We stayed there for a half an hour or so, kissing and chatting.  Then we went off to have dinner in the Great Room.  It wasn't anything particular that she said, but I knew after that day that she was the woman for me.  I just deep down had a feeling and knew it.

    Anyway, that was about 14 months ago and we're still going stronger than ever with big plans for the future.

    Notes:
    LiberalCatholic- I love you and always will.  You keep me happy, loved, intellectually challenged, and conscientious.

    Nonpartisan (my roommate)- If you read this you best not tease me about it too much.

    daria_g: If you read this, I hope I reminded you of the beautiful places on this campus.

  •  different first kiss story (4.00)
    My son, source of shameless bragging, came to our family as a fat and cheery 8 month old from a Chinese orphanage. The heavens smiled on him and he was adored there, spoiled and coddled and cuddled, but kissing was a strange ritual. I recall putting him in his crib, trying to demonstrate a kiss goodnight. First, my husband and I kissed all the stuffed animals. Then we kissed each other. Then we kissed our son. He just watched in amusement. What is this funny thing with the lips? It seems now like it took weeks of demo kissing but finally he figured out it was another way to bond. And now, as a six year old(today!) he comes to me and puts his hands on either side of my face, and kisses me from the forehead to the chin - eyelids, cheeks, all over. He is going to be so much trouble for girls when he is older! But for now, he is my adoring and adored little boy.Oh, yeah, and when he sees Bush on tv, he says, "That's the guy who tells lies in Texas." I told you I bragged. I deal with the sin of pride every day.

    I donated to ePluribus Media. I would have sent homemade cookies if they had asked.

    by Chun Yang on Sat Apr 09, 2005 at 05:49:20 AM PDT

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