Although I truly love to travel, I’m glad that my job doesn’t require me to be away overnight very often. I’m off to a conference in Kingston for the next couple of days, and while I relish the idea of no cooking and no diaper changes and a bed I don’t have to share for just one night, I’ll still miss the men in my life.
I just realized yesterday that this isn’t the first time I’ve stayed at the hotel where the conference will be held. The summer I was fourteen, we took a family vacation to Kingston and stayed at the same hotel. It was there that I met a boy, a boy who was seventeen and lived in Kingston. What he was doing hanging around the inside of a hotel when he lived in town never was clarified. What I do clearly remember was making out with him in the hotel stairwell. It was my first mouth-open “french kiss” as we called it back then. (Do they still call it french kissing? Why do I feel suddenly ancient and out of touch?)
I’d had my first kiss earlier that year at a school dance. I spent the rest of the year with a painfully unrequited crush on the boy who never wanted to acknowledge my existence after the end of that night. But I don’t think I spent a lot of energy that summer pining for the guy from Kingston. I can’t even remember his first name. It might have been Steve.
So, anyway, I’m out of here for a couple days and I’m not sure what my internet connectivity is going to be. Talk amongst yourselves… as if I have to compell you to do that. Tell me the story of your first kiss, and I’ll look forward to reading your stories when I come back Thursday night.
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Soooo…..whatcha doing in the stairwells tonight?
Soooo…..whatcha doing in the stairwells tonight?
Soooo…..whatcha doing in the stairwells tonight?
Soooo…..whatcha doing in the stairwells tonight?
Mine was with a very hot, very brazillian boy. Did I mention he was hot? And we barely said anything to each other that night, but it didn’t matter. It was at my house when my parents were out of town. They left my college-aged sister and my high school-aged self at home for the weekend. We had cheesy 80′s music playing in the background and were slow dancing in the living room. It was actually pretty nice for a first kiss.
I still call it french kissing. Oh la la!
Mine was with a very hot, very brazillian boy. Did I mention he was hot? And we barely said anything to each other that night, but it didn’t matter. It was at my house when my parents were out of town. They left my college-aged sister and my high school-aged self at home for the weekend. We had cheesy 80′s music playing in the background and were slow dancing in the living room. It was actually pretty nice for a first kiss.
I still call it french kissing. Oh la la!
Mine was with a very hot, very brazillian boy. Did I mention he was hot? And we barely said anything to each other that night, but it didn’t matter. It was at my house when my parents were out of town. They left my college-aged sister and my high school-aged self at home for the weekend. We had cheesy 80′s music playing in the background and were slow dancing in the living room. It was actually pretty nice for a first kiss.
I still call it french kissing. Oh la la!
Mine was with a very hot, very brazillian boy. Did I mention he was hot? And we barely said anything to each other that night, but it didn’t matter. It was at my house when my parents were out of town. They left my college-aged sister and my high school-aged self at home for the weekend. We had cheesy 80′s music playing in the background and were slow dancing in the living room. It was actually pretty nice for a first kiss.
I still call it french kissing. Oh la la!
Mine was with my 6th grade boyfriend. We’d been boyfriend and girlfriend all year, and at our end of year dance we made out. We went for a walk outside with my friend and her boyfriend, stopped behind the school and french kissed. I was so excited but at the same time felt totally shy and a bit weird. Anyhow, the next day I was waiting for him to get off his bus. But when all of the people getting off his bus came up to me and told me that he stood up on and told everyone that we frenched, I was pissed. So I never talked to him again (until a couple of years later when I’d “matured”). Funny hey?!!!
Mine was with my 6th grade boyfriend. We’d been boyfriend and girlfriend all year, and at our end of year dance we made out. We went for a walk outside with my friend and her boyfriend, stopped behind the school and french kissed. I was so excited but at the same time felt totally shy and a bit weird. Anyhow, the next day I was waiting for him to get off his bus. But when all of the people getting off his bus came up to me and told me that he stood up on and told everyone that we frenched, I was pissed. So I never talked to him again (until a couple of years later when I’d “matured”). Funny hey?!!!
Mine was with my 6th grade boyfriend. We’d been boyfriend and girlfriend all year, and at our end of year dance we made out. We went for a walk outside with my friend and her boyfriend, stopped behind the school and french kissed. I was so excited but at the same time felt totally shy and a bit weird. Anyhow, the next day I was waiting for him to get off his bus. But when all of the people getting off his bus came up to me and told me that he stood up on and told everyone that we frenched, I was pissed. So I never talked to him again (until a couple of years later when I’d “matured”). Funny hey?!!!
Mine was with my 6th grade boyfriend. We’d been boyfriend and girlfriend all year, and at our end of year dance we made out. We went for a walk outside with my friend and her boyfriend, stopped behind the school and french kissed. I was so excited but at the same time felt totally shy and a bit weird. Anyhow, the next day I was waiting for him to get off his bus. But when all of the people getting off his bus came up to me and told me that he stood up on and told everyone that we frenched, I was pissed. So I never talked to him again (until a couple of years later when I’d “matured”). Funny hey?!!!
I thought you might be interested in this, a call for papers from York University about Blogging mothers: http://www.yorku.ca/arm/MotheringandBlogging.html
I thought you might be interested in this, a call for papers from York University about Blogging mothers: http://www.yorku.ca/arm/MotheringandBlogging.html
I thought you might be interested in this, a call for papers from York University about Blogging mothers: http://www.yorku.ca/arm/MotheringandBlogging.html
I thought you might be interested in this, a call for papers from York University about Blogging mothers: http://www.yorku.ca/arm/MotheringandBlogging.html
What?! You forgot his name?
Hmm. OK. I might not be the best authority on this, especially since I once proposed marriage to a beautiful girl when I was in Grade 1.
Mike
http://somethingaboutparenting.typepad.com/
What?! You forgot his name?
Hmm. OK. I might not be the best authority on this, especially since I once proposed marriage to a beautiful girl when I was in Grade 1.
Mike
http://somethingaboutparenting.typepad.com/
What?! You forgot his name?
Hmm. OK. I might not be the best authority on this, especially since I once proposed marriage to a beautiful girl when I was in Grade 1.
Mike
http://somethingaboutparenting.typepad.com/
What?! You forgot his name?
Hmm. OK. I might not be the best authority on this, especially since I once proposed marriage to a beautiful girl when I was in Grade 1.
Mike
http://somethingaboutparenting.typepad.com/
Fourth grade. Cute blonde boy with big dimples. We hung out a lot since he lived a couple of doors down from my best friend (then), and made the mistake of telling someone that he liked me. So one afternoon, we were talking in the corridor outside the classroom when a CROWD gathered. And the chant went up – Kiss her! Kiss her! So he did. In front of God and everybody! It was nice, but I was so embarassed that I ran to the bathroom and wouldn’t come out until everybody left. Poor Curtis. I’m sure that wasn’t the reaction he was looking for.
Fourth grade. Cute blonde boy with big dimples. We hung out a lot since he lived a couple of doors down from my best friend (then), and made the mistake of telling someone that he liked me. So one afternoon, we were talking in the corridor outside the classroom when a CROWD gathered. And the chant went up – Kiss her! Kiss her! So he did. In front of God and everybody! It was nice, but I was so embarassed that I ran to the bathroom and wouldn’t come out until everybody left. Poor Curtis. I’m sure that wasn’t the reaction he was looking for.
Fourth grade. Cute blonde boy with big dimples. We hung out a lot since he lived a couple of doors down from my best friend (then), and made the mistake of telling someone that he liked me. So one afternoon, we were talking in the corridor outside the classroom when a CROWD gathered. And the chant went up – Kiss her! Kiss her! So he did. In front of God and everybody! It was nice, but I was so embarassed that I ran to the bathroom and wouldn’t come out until everybody left. Poor Curtis. I’m sure that wasn’t the reaction he was looking for.
Fourth grade. Cute blonde boy with big dimples. We hung out a lot since he lived a couple of doors down from my best friend (then), and made the mistake of telling someone that he liked me. So one afternoon, we were talking in the corridor outside the classroom when a CROWD gathered. And the chant went up – Kiss her! Kiss her! So he did. In front of God and everybody! It was nice, but I was so embarassed that I ran to the bathroom and wouldn’t come out until everybody left. Poor Curtis. I’m sure that wasn’t the reaction he was looking for.
Fourth grade…maybe fifth? A boy named Adam, in my backyard. I was so excited to kiss him and I was disgusted and disappointed when we locked lips, opened our mouths and I started to choke because he tasted like eggs.
Fourth grade…maybe fifth? A boy named Adam, in my backyard. I was so excited to kiss him and I was disgusted and disappointed when we locked lips, opened our mouths and I started to choke because he tasted like eggs.
Fourth grade…maybe fifth? A boy named Adam, in my backyard. I was so excited to kiss him and I was disgusted and disappointed when we locked lips, opened our mouths and I started to choke because he tasted like eggs.
Fourth grade…maybe fifth? A boy named Adam, in my backyard. I was so excited to kiss him and I was disgusted and disappointed when we locked lips, opened our mouths and I started to choke because he tasted like eggs.
Here is the saddest thing… I don’t technically remember. That is, I think I had my first kiss when I was 12 or 13, but really don’t remember much. So, I do remember my first kiss after that one and it was pretty good. I still remain friends with him today and we laugh about when we went out in high school
.
Here is the saddest thing… I don’t technically remember. That is, I think I had my first kiss when I was 12 or 13, but really don’t remember much. So, I do remember my first kiss after that one and it was pretty good. I still remain friends with him today and we laugh about when we went out in high school
.
Here is the saddest thing… I don’t technically remember. That is, I think I had my first kiss when I was 12 or 13, but really don’t remember much. So, I do remember my first kiss after that one and it was pretty good. I still remain friends with him today and we laugh about when we went out in high school
.
Here is the saddest thing… I don’t technically remember. That is, I think I had my first kiss when I was 12 or 13, but really don’t remember much. So, I do remember my first kiss after that one and it was pretty good. I still remain friends with him today and we laugh about when we went out in high school
.
They call it french kissing because the French invented oral sex and french kissing mimics oral sex. Or maybe it has something to do with french fries…
They call it french kissing because the French invented oral sex and french kissing mimics oral sex. Or maybe it has something to do with french fries…
They call it french kissing because the French invented oral sex and french kissing mimics oral sex. Or maybe it has something to do with french fries…
They call it french kissing because the French invented oral sex and french kissing mimics oral sex. Or maybe it has something to do with french fries…
Haven’t thought about the fence-hurdling, freckle-faced bad boy named Leonard for decades. He was a swaggery cool trouble-maker who ruled our Winnipeg grade school playground. When it came to the younger girls he was all knight-in-shining armour, or that’s how I thought of him. When I was cornered by an older bully during recess and sat on till the breath was near squeezed out of me, it was Leonard who vanquished him and who helped me with my scattered toque and mittens — and then, out of the blue, kissed me right on the lips. Wow. I was stunned into forgetting to tattle on the first boy, and felt for the rest of the school year that I had a delicious secret that would soon grow into some sort of magical destiny. But we moved back to Ontario for Grade Three, and Leonard was replaced by Bobby, a real cutie who was on a mission to break the detention record at Thorah Central. Pattern? Why yes: leads all the way to the first *real* kiss with a boy in a stolen canoe… I’m not telling that story.
Haven’t thought about the fence-hurdling, freckle-faced bad boy named Leonard for decades. He was a swaggery cool trouble-maker who ruled our Winnipeg grade school playground. When it came to the younger girls he was all knight-in-shining armour, or that’s how I thought of him. When I was cornered by an older bully during recess and sat on till the breath was near squeezed out of me, it was Leonard who vanquished him and who helped me with my scattered toque and mittens — and then, out of the blue, kissed me right on the lips. Wow. I was stunned into forgetting to tattle on the first boy, and felt for the rest of the school year that I had a delicious secret that would soon grow into some sort of magical destiny. But we moved back to Ontario for Grade Three, and Leonard was replaced by Bobby, a real cutie who was on a mission to break the detention record at Thorah Central. Pattern? Why yes: leads all the way to the first *real* kiss with a boy in a stolen canoe… I’m not telling that story.
Haven’t thought about the fence-hurdling, freckle-faced bad boy named Leonard for decades. He was a swaggery cool trouble-maker who ruled our Winnipeg grade school playground. When it came to the younger girls he was all knight-in-shining armour, or that’s how I thought of him. When I was cornered by an older bully during recess and sat on till the breath was near squeezed out of me, it was Leonard who vanquished him and who helped me with my scattered toque and mittens — and then, out of the blue, kissed me right on the lips. Wow. I was stunned into forgetting to tattle on the first boy, and felt for the rest of the school year that I had a delicious secret that would soon grow into some sort of magical destiny. But we moved back to Ontario for Grade Three, and Leonard was replaced by Bobby, a real cutie who was on a mission to break the detention record at Thorah Central. Pattern? Why yes: leads all the way to the first *real* kiss with a boy in a stolen canoe… I’m not telling that story.
Haven’t thought about the fence-hurdling, freckle-faced bad boy named Leonard for decades. He was a swaggery cool trouble-maker who ruled our Winnipeg grade school playground. When it came to the younger girls he was all knight-in-shining armour, or that’s how I thought of him. When I was cornered by an older bully during recess and sat on till the breath was near squeezed out of me, it was Leonard who vanquished him and who helped me with my scattered toque and mittens — and then, out of the blue, kissed me right on the lips. Wow. I was stunned into forgetting to tattle on the first boy, and felt for the rest of the school year that I had a delicious secret that would soon grow into some sort of magical destiny. But we moved back to Ontario for Grade Three, and Leonard was replaced by Bobby, a real cutie who was on a mission to break the detention record at Thorah Central. Pattern? Why yes: leads all the way to the first *real* kiss with a boy in a stolen canoe… I’m not telling that story.
I’m Like beach Mamma I really don’t remember when it was. I think I was 13…but then he was 16 if it was him…But gosh… you honestly i don’t really know if was him or the guy I liked at 12.
I’m Like beach Mamma I really don’t remember when it was. I think I was 13…but then he was 16 if it was him…But gosh… you honestly i don’t really know if was him or the guy I liked at 12.
I’m Like beach Mamma I really don’t remember when it was. I think I was 13…but then he was 16 if it was him…But gosh… you honestly i don’t really know if was him or the guy I liked at 12.
I’m Like beach Mamma I really don’t remember when it was. I think I was 13…but then he was 16 if it was him…But gosh… you honestly i don’t really know if was him or the guy I liked at 12.
I think they call it sucking face now, not sure.
I think I was about 14, at a campground with my family where they had dances on saturday night. The guy was missing a hand and his name was Chris! And I never pined for him again, either.
I think they call it sucking face now, not sure.
I think I was about 14, at a campground with my family where they had dances on saturday night. The guy was missing a hand and his name was Chris! And I never pined for him again, either.
I think they call it sucking face now, not sure.
I think I was about 14, at a campground with my family where they had dances on saturday night. The guy was missing a hand and his name was Chris! And I never pined for him again, either.
I think they call it sucking face now, not sure.
I think I was about 14, at a campground with my family where they had dances on saturday night. The guy was missing a hand and his name was Chris! And I never pined for him again, either.