When I was a little girl I was full of dresses and long hair. I had a round white face with chubby pink cheeks and enough strength to believe in myself no matter what. I was popular-part of a group, part of friends, someone who connected with those around her.

I'm not sure what happened along the way.

I'm guessing I got waylaid by reality, but I can never be sure.

Tiffani asked me some questions recently and one of them brought a smile to my face and got me thinking. She asked about my first kiss, and that's something I hadn't thought about in a long time.

My first kiss happened in the great drama that is all first kisses. The first knee trembling moment that you find out that boys aren't so icky after all, that the days of playing football and tetherball together are over, and forever on there will be seperate groups cliquing together in seperate worlds with seperate dreams and giggles and flushes of embarrassment.

Like all first kisses, mine happened when I was 7 years old. His name was Marc, and he had dark brown hair and enormous brown eyes with lashes that seemed to reach the sky. He had a cheeky grin and-God help us all-a dimple deep in the right cheek that tucked in cheerfully when he smiled.

As I was a Drama Queen of the first order, I had the two admirers that liked me-Marc and another boy named Junior (yes, that was his name)-run a foot race. The winner would get a kiss from me as I was waited at the finish line.

It was recess, and another friend asked the guys to get on the mark, get set, GO! They ran the short footrace, Marc easily beating Junior, and he came up to me, flushed. I smiled at him.

It was a warm sunny day in Washington State, and Spring was budding. I was wearing a pink skirt that I loved, a pink skirt that had white ribbons hanging off the side that I would worry with my hands when I wasn't paying attention. He was dressed in a red polo shirt and dark blue dungarees. His brown hair stuck up in a cowlick in the back, bobbing as he walked.

When he came up to me, I placed my hands on his shoulders and leaned forward. I was a tall girl, so we were even height, face to face. He kept his eyes open, and so did I. When I planted a tiny kiss on his lips, I saw his pupils expand, and I was so busy watching his eyes I forgot how my first kiss felt, all two seconds of it. Standing back, we giggled and then went about our business.

I don't remember what happened to him, I don't have any more memories of him in that dodgy photo album in my head. I remember that one bright Spring morning and my first kiss with a boy with a dimple. I remember that he smelt of Coast soap and the skin on the tip of his nose had freckles splashed across it.

I have no idea what happened to him after my lips with their Bonne Bell rolling ball lip gloss met the surface of his lips.

I wonder if he remembers me.

The memory of it seems to have the sweetness that childhood should have. It tastes like butterscotch and has skinned knees and fireflies in a jar. My first kiss is just another ghost from my past, but unlike other ghosts, this one brings a smile to my lips as I remember how it was, for one moment, to be a little girl.

And that feeling is enough to get me through the rest of today.

-H.

PS-The rest of my questions from Tiffani are below. 1. Who was your very first kiss? Details Please?

See above. I gave mine, now others can give theirs!

2. What is your single most embarrassing moment?

What, you mean besides the ones I have every single day? Those ones? Seriously, not to cop out or anything, but I embarrass myself on a daily basis. It's an art form with me.

3. If I were to choose a character from a t.v. show that is most like me I'd choose Karen from Will and Grace. Who would you choose?

I think I would honestly have to say George from "Dead Like Me", but maybe that's because she's cool and angsty and has toilets falling on her head. Also, she has an unrequited life and that strikes a chord somewhere in me. Sadly, I'm not as thin as her, but there's always hope.

4. One of my most favorite entries of yours (recently) was your list of demands. Very funny. What I want to know is what inspires you to write like that? Is it easier to write the funny entries or the more serious?

Most of the time, I have no idea what I'm going to write when I sit down to write it. Most of my blog posts come from train rides. I plug my iPod in my ears and try to ignore the guy next to me taking up his seat and mine, and I just write. Maybe it's dependent on if it's sad music or happy music, if the sun is shining or the rain is falling, maybe that's the only way my id can bitchslap my ego and let some things out. Truthfully, I find the serious stuff easier to write, but then that's also giving in to the Dark Side. Life doesn't always have to be so dark.

5. Rob P is guest bloggin on My dads site - He wanted to know who would be our three people we would have a "free pass" with. Who are yours and if you would.....what woman would you "Turn" gay for?

1) John Cusack (ooh....pause for a moment here, ok?)
2) Keifer Sutherland
3) Matthew McConnaughey

And the gay freebie? I'd go gay for several women in fact, but the lead candidate is Angeline Jolie. I like a woman who's up for it. I'd go gay for her-who wouldn't?

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 08:08 AM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
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