Love and Air Hockey by Deb Eileen

To be honest, I didn’t remember my first kiss. Luckily, I kept diaries growing up (you remember, hard cover books with tiny, tiny, little keys?) Looking through them for this post brought up several issues:
 
• My handwriting was awful; each letter is huge and bloated. The world wide deforestation is due in part to my writing. I wasted huge volumes of paper.  I won’t even mention the period where I had some kind of fetish for dotting my eyes with giant bubbles.
• I may have been a touch overdramatic. There are many sections that include any of the following: I hate him, I love him, I want to die, No one understands me. Moderation was clearly not in my vocabulary.
• My parents must have been extremely patient or heavy drinkers. I can’t imagine that living with me was a pleasant experience. I also dressed poorly based on photos, and yet you can see in my diary that I thought I was looking GOOD.
• I always dreamed of being a writer- it is even documented as early as Oct 14, 1981 (age 12) “I really want to be a writer when I grow up.”

This post is however is about first kisses. The following is taken directly from my diary:

August 3, 1983
I’ve had my first kiss sigh. We roller skated during the doubles part and he held onto my HIPS! And I held onto his neck- sigh again. I am in love. I know he likes me because he told me. We went to the game room and I beat him in air hockey (barely.)  Laura says I shouldn’t let him beat me, but I did. 

It was time for my mom to pick me up and he said “mind if I kiss you goodbye?” I was so excited so I guess the air hockey thing didn’t matter. So then we kissed. He had nice lips. The first kiss is so much the best. (author’s aside – seeing that this was my first kiss- how did I know it was the best?)  He didn’t use his tongue, which is good I think.  I don’t know. Now I am SO depressed because I go away for two weeks. I can’t believe I have fallen in love and now I have to go.

Two pages later I was OVER the roller rink boy and have a huge crush on the next door neighbor of my cousin. I was very fickle in my youth. On the upside I am no longer fickle, no longer under the illusion that the first kiss is the best, have discovered real men don’t care if you beat them at air hockey, and realized the tongue thing isn’t nearly as yucky as it sounds.

11 thoughts on “Love and Air Hockey by Deb Eileen

  1. Ahhhhh… after all these years and wisdom I thought you understood us better.

    It does matter if you beat us at air hockey. We just don’t say anything and pout(no matter what age we are) once we learn to be masculine. 😉

  2. How did you know about playing tonsil hockey when you were twelve??? I wonder if where you said you were going away for two weeks was where we had you touring convents and monasteries so you could pick out your home for the next fifty years. (Never could figure out why you didn’t like the habit – no worries about what goes with what and so forth.)
    BTW, you didn’t really think that little key was going to keep out someone who went to spy school did you? Now you have to wonder, did he open it up or didn’t he? The anguish will pay you back for the comment abut putting me in a retirement home with only a “Hillary For President” T-Shirt to wear.

  3. Gasp! Eileen’s Very Proud Dad went to spy school? Our mascot just gets cooler and cooler. I’m starting to think we should mount his photo along with ours…

  4. I love that your Very Proud Dad made a comment that included the phrase “tonsil hockey.” And his last sentence cracked me up.

    PS: my first kiss almost never happened due to severe halitosis. His. *shudder*

  5. TO: Eileen’s Very Proud Dad
    RE: “Tonsil hockey”

    At age 12, your daughter decided to become a writer but — according to her diary entry of August 3, 1983 — her first kiss took place when she was 14. Feel any better? :o)

  6. I love that you have your old diaries. What treasure troves!

    And your post brought me right back to those Saturday nights at the roller rink — cotton candy, rented skates, a huge disco ball spilling light on the floor. And all the little dramas played out there. Ah, youth…

  7. I never kept a diary. Just the odd sheet of paper detailing when I was furiously angry at someone and why, promptly thrown in the trash when I was over it. Alas, not the same as a chronicle of first kisses and other exciting events.

    I’m sure you’re aware, but your dad is hilarious!
    Thanks for sharing!

  8. Roller skaking and air hockey … damn, what a HOT date, no wonder you let him kiss you! And I’m glad you beat him in air hockey, not for any feminist reason other than, well, you were better than him.

  9. I got cheated out of a first kiss memory because I was in DRAMA and everyone kissed all the time and we never knew then who was gay so it was just “friends”, who was just “experimenting”, who was “rehearsing”, who was “serious and would love you forever” or who was just being “cosmopolitan”. Oh, well…

  10. I admire anyone who was able to keep a diary. I remember trying but it only lasted a week at the most, I don’t think I had the patience for it. I have come to the conclusion lately that I had ADD and probably still exhibit some symptoms. I wish I would have had a diary or journal though, I think just reading the dribble I could conjuer up when I was 13 would be quite entertaining.

    (It’s pronounced Chell, your writers you tell me how that makes sense)

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