Kiss The Girl – by Deb Kristy

Alternate title: Why Jude the Obscure Infuriates Me  1982. Eighth grade. Fifth period. Speech class…Mark. I only had three crushes in eighth grade: Scott, Jerry, and Tom Selleck. Mark wasn’t a crush. It was love. And he wasn’t getting the hint. I upheld my end of the eighth-grade romance bargain. I’d done everything I was supposed to do. I’d told my friends, my friends told his friends,

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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…

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Kiss Me, Baby! by Deb Mia

Ah, young love. Come on, you remember … those single and early double digit years, before we got older and life started showing up in mortgage payments, grocery lists, and — God help us — $4.65 Frappucinos. Those were the innocent years, filled with wishes and endless possibilties (“When I grow up, I want to be a famous writer!”) and, first kisses. My first kiss – not the kind delivered…

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In The Treehouse by Deb Jennifer

Fifth grade.  Danny.  He had freckles and smelled like some exotic spice: cardamom or coriander.  He was a foster kid and only lived on our street for a year before being sent to another home.   What drew me to Danny (other than the mysterious scent) was that he came from a family more screwed up than my own.  His brother was in juvenile detention.  His mom was in rehab.  His…

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The Kiss Before the Kiss Before the Kiss by Deb Tish

My first kiss cannot be discussed without first revealing the kiss before the kiss. And the kiss before that.   Seventh grade was nearly over and my secret love for Mike LaMarche was at its peak. I had exactly five days to win his love, and if I didn’t, I’d be spending the entire summer wondering what I could have, should have, done differently. So, I spent every daylight hour…

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First Kiss By Deb Anna

Ah, my first kiss. His name was Luke. Branson School lower parking lot. After a Christmas tree lighting event which I was attending despite my Jewishness because I’m the second least observant Jew in the world — the first being my mother, who at that moment was still standing at the Christmas tree making small talk with the other mothers and probably looking for me. Most of the details of…

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Always Tip Your Waiter – by Deb Kristy

First, a big squishy Debutante thank-you to Mia King for taking over last Saturday (hence my appearance here on Mia’s usual Thursday!). Did you all miss me? You did, didn’t you? You were bereft; you were nearly catatonic at the thought of getting through your weekend without the benefit of Deb Kristy’s words of wit and wisdom, right? Or did you even notice? What else don’t we notice? Some people…

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