You Must Remember This.

11

June 5, 2012 by jooshanoosh

We here at Part Time Authors have been wondering about you, the reader. What makes you tick? What is something that we can all talk about? And so, I would love it if you could just drop a little note in the comments about the following:

The first girl I ever kissed was Jenny Lloyd. We were in the Orem Jr High School production of ‘Ghost Chasers’ and we were in 8th grade. (Side note: My two older brothers had told me the summer before my 7th grade year that I should kiss a girl in 7th grade and French kiss a girl in 8th grade, so this story is already a year behind. Side side note: I did not French kiss a girl until 10th grade when I was dating a senior; she eventually put a stop to it, on moral grounds.) Now for my memory: Jenny was playing a young beautiful new patient in this hospital that was now being taken over by ghosts and the like. She was dressed in a light green dress and sometimes had a white coat and a suit case. She was very pretty, just as her character.

For her memory: I was playing a ‘dancing skeleton’ and I looked it. The ‘Dancing Skeleton’ costume was an over sized, black (with iron-on bones), one-piece suit that hung on me like I was wearing my older brother’s pajamas. But that’s not the worst thing. The worst thing was that my makeup was:
1. A layer of white all over the face;
2. Black around the eyes; and
3. So that our faces would show up under the black lights as we danced, the entire face was covered with some glow-in-the-dark goop that was the consistency of Vaseline that would periodically drip drops of glop as I walked.

There it is, while I was looking at her in her Sunday best, she was looking at me–a 86-pound burn victim with eye liner.

It wasn’t but years later that I thought of my first kiss from Jenny Lloyd’s point of view. I am pretty sure that her first kiss was some kid in her ‘Ideas*’ class at Aspen Elementary, so while it wasn’t her first it was still a kiss and she did look into my blacked-out goopy eyes, noted the double toothed smile (my real teeth and the ones drawn around my mouth) and promptly shut her own eyes as I went in for the kill. A memorable moment for each of us, no doubt.

And so I come to you. There is only one first kiss in your life, just that one. Now, you don’t have to go into deep detail but I would like to have you comment. Just so the world remembers. Please post who and how it was. It could be two words: “Hillary Duff. Badly.” but then we would all know. So do tell!!! Really, go on! Push the button.

*”Ideas” was a class for smart kids that I was not a part of. It was when I realized two things: One, I am not smart.
Two, I like smart girls.

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11 thoughts on “You Must Remember This.

  1. Chris Liv says:

    Tiffany Donaldson, 7th grade, not proud of it. It was a passionate love affair than ended abruptly when Jana Philipp told my mom that I was kissing her and she offered me $50 to break up. It was a hard decision at the time: love or money? That afternoon she called me and I was on our cordless phone in the front yard stepping on box elder bugs when she told me "if we get our parents to sign a letter, we could get married!". I thought about that for a second, went in the house and told my mom that I'll take the $50.As a side note, I also had a glass turtle I bought for her from that glass blowing kiosk in the mall, that somehow ended up in your room on your shelf. So me breaking up with Tiffany Donaldson profited both of us!

  2. seashmore says:

    Andrew B, exactly a week before I turned 14. Later that week, my mom came home earlier than expected and I was busted for having a boy over. There was no escape, so we met her in the dining room under the guise that he had come over to read our newspaper (which his brother delivered). I had 2 options, really: I could leave the (my) house before he did or I could try to leave at the same time. I knew if I tried the latter, my mom would call me back in and I'd get a talking to. So I announced I'd be going over to the neighbors and left them in the middle of their conversation.He didn't talk to me for months afterwards (which is actually quite the feat as we shared best friends, a bus stop and were on the same bowling league), thus making my very first kiss my first kiss goodbye.

  3. Josh Bingham says:

    Charlotte Nielsen. On an wrought-iron bench, under a tree. At the Disneyland hotel. Aaaaaaannnndd scene.

  4. 16yo. with KW(she was from out of town, how exotic!) standing at the driver door of my vw squareback. we had just watched Midnight Oil play on SNL, you could prob get the exact date from that. I basically stuck my tongue as far into her face as i could; about 10 seconds into it i had a vision of my(more experienced) buddy steve telling me that 'girls do not like the tongue'. I promptly removed my tongue, finished up and then high-fived myself the entire drive home.

  5. Tiffany says:

    This comment has been removed by the author.

  6. Tiffany says:

    My 14th birthday with Shawn H. We were in the tree house in my back yard and he had just given me a Star Wars paper doll book because I loved the costumes in it. It was his first kiss too, so I'm sure it was a complete disaster, however being that neither of us knew any better, it was heavenly! The next day, his family moved and I didn't see him for 3 years. Side note, we're now best friends and we talk almost daily.

  7. Mallory says:

    I was three. His name was Joseph Wood and I am pretty sure his dad was a policeman. He was the boy across the street. My sister would "pump" me on her pink Huffy banana seat to his house and then he would drive me around in his red Power Wheels Jeep in his back yard. I was the only guest at his birthday party and he even took me to the circus. I figured this was enough dates, so in Primary one Sunday, we stood up from our front row Sunbeams seats, threw our chubby little arms around each other and that is the moment I let him kiss me. *Sigh* His mother turned around from the piano bench she was sitting on (she was of course the pianist) and pulled us apart. I didn't kiss a boy again for another 10 or so years.

  8. Camille says:

    um, hello?! My Bishop reads this blog! (and writes it too) eeek!Preston Wadsworth- awkward, but nice.It was summer after 8th grade so I was um, like 13 😦 and he was going to be a senior in H.S. Very very small town & he was quite the catch….but after many girls at once. We had rollerbladded in the church parkinglot till past my 9:30 curfew. Laying on the Elementary lawn next door we flirted and he begged for a kiss. He really wanted to be my 1st kiss—dirt bag! LOL I eventually gave in and gave him a big 13 year old smooch. Only 2 and then his sister pulled up yelling that my dad was out looking for me!! ;( I jumped in and they dropped me at the corner! LOL We are actually still friends to this day though. 🙂

  9. Good heavens this takes me back to good ole B.O. You know who I am talkin about. And from there it just all went down hill. As you can attest to. I was a wee lass at the age of 14. Totally in love with an older man and since his dad and my mom had been engaged at one point in their very earlier years we thought we were destined to be together for ever. LOL! My parent were out of town and so I was feeling a little adventurous and let the boy kiss me. After the dreamy occurrence I went directly to my room and bawled my eyes out feeling guilty. Clearly the only place that would except me now was hell. Mmm. Hmmm. Tis true. You don't find that hard to believe though. Once a prude. Always a prude. And ps….YOU ARE SMART!!!!!! Silly boy.

  10. Jeppson Clan says:

    First time commenting although I enjoy reading your blog daily.My 1st kiss cost me $1,000. Joseph G. on a summer night, in my driveway leaning against his truck.*In an effort to curtail us from what they deemed, pre-mature kissing my parents offered all 3 of us (girls) $1000 to not kiss a boy before we were 16. I made it til 3 months before my 16th birthday. My sisters however did not last anywhere near as long.We are offering our 3 boys the same deal, only my husband wants to up it to age 18. Ha ha!

  11. NicholeStull says:

    I was 18 years old and had never been kissed. It was a moonlit Spring night with the rain having drizzled a lovely layer of glistening water all over the trees and down the shining blacktop. It was a perfect setting…Richard was a boy that I had dated long-distance after I'd met him at a leadership conference earlier in the year. It had been about 6 months and just 2 months before I had traveled to his city to attend his Senior Prom with him. I'd realized during that night that I did not like Richard enough to give up my first kiss to him but I did not know how to tell him. (Years later I wondered why the words, "I don't like you like that, Richard," didn't just jump to my mind, but what can you do? I was a teenage girl.)After two months of trying to figure out how to tell him I wasn't interested and dodging his plans for us to be alone so that he couldn't kiss me, he finally outwitted me. After I drove him and a friend home, his friend pulled a Harry Potter and apparated out of the vehicle fast enough that I was unable to avoid alone time. I did however remain seated behind the wheel of my parents' trusty Chevy Astro van. With my seat belt on.Richard came around my side of the car and finally cajoled me into descending from my perch so that I could bestow a good-bye hug. After all, "it could be months" before we saw each other again. I'm not sure why I fell for that because honestly, Richard had been fabricating reasons to come to my hometown for months to see me weekly, thus giving my dodging abilities a run for their money.Richard proceeded to explain that he wanted to give me a Y-hug in honor of the fact that we had both gotten accepted to attend BYU (a fact I was still trying to decide whether or not to include in my college destination decisions). Now, I'm not naive, 18 year old virgin lips or not, and definitely not slow on the uptake. I knew something fishy was up. And it smelled like it had been cooked with cheese. He asked me to stand with my arms up-stretched into a 'Y'. I may have been a cheerleader and quite comfortable with a 'Y' position in general, but there and then? Not so much. I tried to tell him that I'd prefer a sensible, run of the mill hug, but he persisted and persisted. I finally told him it seemed like we could be eating nachos at this point and he gave up the Y-hug, but not before explaining to me with my arms in the air he would have said, "Why hug when you can kiss?"Obviously the most astute among us could figure out at this point that his jig was up. Even Richard. So he gave up the subterfuge and directly asked if he could kiss me. I swear the words, "No, thank you," were on the tip of my tongue, but after .85 seconds he gave up waiting, exclaiming, "Forget it, I'm not waiting for an answer," and went in for the kill. And I got the peck of lifetime, with a wet ring all the way around my mouth. Though to be fair, I just realized 15 years later that he probably wasn't intending to just give me a peck, but my lack of response probably left little option.Richard smiled, yelling out, "Thanks, Nichole!" as he ran into the house and I climbed back into the trusty Astro van to wipe my mouth and ponder the prudence of an 18 year wait for cheddar coated entreaties to smash lips together and wonder how kissing ever led to babies. Ambiance clearly isn't everything.

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