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Thanks for stopping by. Mummy Mayhem is no longer updated. I now have a new, albeit smaller blog over at www.jodieansted.blogspot.com.au.

Drop by anytime. :)

Jodie
xox

Wednesday, June 09, 2010

Kiss, Kiss...



How well do you remember your first kiss?

My very first kiss, albeit a quick peck on the lips, was when I was 12. It was the end of Year 7 – my final year in primary school. Eddie Aretz and I were standing outside the front of the school underneath the white pergola; lush green creepers weaving their way along the white posts, glancing nervously at one another. This is where I’d like to write that all I could hear was the faint sound of birds in the nearby trees, and our breath heavy with anticipation. I’d like to then say that as we stood on the cobblestone pathway, we slowly leant towards each other and our lips melted together as if God Himself had always intended them to.

Ah, no. I can’t write that actually, because it just wasn’t quite the romantic experience I had imagined for myself leading up to that day.

You see, half a dozen of our friends stood around us on that warm December afternoon, egging us on to plant a big fat wet one on each other. Sigh. We eventually obliged – our lips hitting awkwardly as we hastily hurried in for the kiss, and that was it. There was no repeat performance, and from memory, summer holidays commenced soon after and Eddie and I parted ways. Forever.

My first real kiss, as I like to call it, was a couple of years later. I was now in high school, Year 9, and one Saturday afternoon, my friend Tracy and I visited the local roller-skating rink. Yep – Carousel Rollerways was its name. It was not unlike a dodgy nightclub inside – in the middle of the day, mind you (not that I would have known this at the time – it would be few more years before I found myself in such an establishment). Disco lights were everywhere, the only other light coming from the spot “mood-lighting” around the place, and from the surrounding vending machines.

Paul Murphy, my love interest at the time, was in my class at school and considered to be quite a good-looking guy (I thought so at the time, too). I can barely remember now what he looked like back then, but I’m pretty sure he had intense blue eyes. As we took to the rink together, the DJ announced a game of “Snowball”. This is where the DJ plays the latest ballads, the girls surround the wall of the roller-rink, and the boys skate around until, in his best “love-song dedications” voice, the DJ announces “Snowbaaaall,” and the guys search for a skating partner. They move to the wall, holding their hand out to a girl, who then takes his hand, and they skate around together. This repeats a few times during the song, until eventually, you’re skating with that special someone you’ve had your eye on from the start.

I skated a couple of rounds with a couple of different guys, and then finally… “Snowball” and there was Paul, holding out his hand for mine. I slid my hand in to his and we skated in unison, shyly catching the odd glance at each other as Jon & Vangelis' I'll Find My Way Home played in the background. (I still can’t hear that song without recalling that day at the roller rink.)

When the song ended, Paul suggested we take a rest from skating, and take a seat on one of the many oversized, soft cushions close to the roller rink’s cafĂ©. I sat to his left, fumbling with the food I had just purchased. We sat in silence. I watched the roller rink, well aware that Paul was busy watching me. I knew what was coming. It was only a matter of time, and I was so nervous, I couldn’t even contemplate eating the food placed on my lap.

I stole a quick sidewards glance at Paul, and he winked at me. I quickly turned away and caught my breath. His hand moved around my waist, pulling me ever so slightly towards him. I reluctantly turned my head, and then…he leant in and our lips met.

To be honest, it was an awkward first kiss. It didn’t quite flow like I had expected it to, having watched many effortless kissing scenes on tv and at the movies up to that point. And afterwards, as I leant my head in to his chest, he brushed my hair away, and whispered, “Your hair is really scratchy.”

And hence began my ongoing paranoia about the dryness of my hair.

Sigh.

Paul and I broke up a couple of weeks later (not about the hair thing though). I don’t think I was ready for a long-term commitment – 3 weeks of dating seemed long enough to me back then.

Suffice to say, I went on to quite enjoy the whole kissing thing. Still do. ;)

How about you? What was your first kiss like? Who was it with? How old were you?

Jodie

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