I love the 4th of July. I grew up in a town that brags that it has "America's Largest Freedom Festival" and, whether or not that's true . . . we celebrate in style. There's a huge parade, tons of activities, gala banquets celebrating some of our nation's finest heroes . . . and MOST awesomly . . . we have . . . STADIUM OF FIRE! I wish I had a sound clip of the Osmond's singing the theme song. It's hilarious. They always have some PC singing act, (read: Brooks & Dunn, The Beach Boys, Huey Lewis and the News (they year they were there people STORMED THE FIELD from the stands. No lie. I was one of them.), Martina McBride . . . ) a cool presentation such as bringing a Marine home to his family or something similar . . . then folks, we get STADIUM OF FIRE. An awesome, choreographed fireworks show that leaves half of the huge stadium full of people covered in firework bits. I get sad just thinking about it.
Unfortunately, the 4th of July ALSO reminds me of something I almost want to forget. That 4th of July thirteen years ago . . . the date of my first kiss.
I was 13 years old and I had my first boyfriend . . . my best friend's older brother and next door neighbor, Matt (the first Matt. There were many to follow.). I was so excited to finally have myself a boyfriend as all of my friends had already had them and I was feeling left out. We had been "going out" for three days . . . which had entailed, well, holding hands.
So on that fateful 4th of July, Matt and I were downstairs in his basement listening to Celine Dion . . . The Power of Love, cuddling and holding hands. Then it happened. I got my first kiss to the cheesiest song ever, in the middle of the day, downstairs in my neighbor's basement on their old couch. And it wasn't good. It was sloppy and . . . weird . . . and . . . well, I guess a first kiss between a 13 and 14 year old who had no idea what they were doing. Yuck.
So now, every 4th of July, I can't help but remember . . . and as grateful as I was not to start high school a kissing virgin . . . I sort of wish I had held out a day or something, so that the 4th of July wouldn't always be joined with the memory of a soggy, spitty kiss.
But what do you do, right? Oh that's right. You blog about it.
8 comments:
Don't you love how blogging can turn winced at memories into almost enjoyable nostalgia? It was worth the pain...because it amuses our readers. Oh yes.
Ahhhh, Matt the 1st . . . what a guy.
Thanks for the trip down memory lane . . . ewwww!
Ugggh first kisses. Mine almost got me suspended. I was so embarrassed!
I totally forgot about that story, ewwww! Hahaha, I'm sorry that it happened on July 4th. Man, you have a thing about Holidays, don't you? July 4th, Groundhog Day...
Too funny... thank god for blogging.
Thank goodness you at least have a significant day to keep remembering. *winces*
Oh, Kate. Oh, Kate. Even though I didn't know you at the time, I did know both you and that Matt later. And, Oh Kate. I'm so sorry that you have to relive this every year.
And I agree. Thank goodness for the ol' blog!!!!! Because then I wouldn't re-live and laugh hysterically over all the things you get yourself into!! (And what I mean by that, of course, is that I don't get to COMMISERATE with you... uh... yeah.... that's what I meant.)
Baaahahahahahahahaha!
That
Was
Funny!
Thirteen years ago... as you were getting your first kiss, I was getting married.
Oh, and you've been tagged at my blog.
GF
I also had my first kiss when I was 13 in the middle of the day... ew - how UNromantic!
Post a Comment