For the past 12 years or so... I've been doing my share of lipping up to toad, after toad, after toad in search of that one great knight masquerading as an amphibious creature.
So far, no such luck.
Years ago I wouldn't have given a passing thought when puckering up to someone. Heck, I look back fondly on a night long ago when I racked up over 20 kisses (For good reason too. It was the night of UK's national championship win in '98). But as of late, I've become a bit more discriminating about whom I kiss, and I even feel a little guilty for locking lips.
A quick spin through the World Wide Web, and you'll find some sites that define kissing as a physical representation of generosity and affection. Check. Another place defines it as affectionate play (or foreplay without contact with the genital organs). Check. One dating website says there are actually different types of kisses: a friendship kiss, a passionate kiss and a deep kiss (which apparently differ from the previous example).
Virtualkiss.com says kissing triggers special chemicals inside, including one such hormone that gives us that tingly-good-all-over feeling.
Now, what's so bad about that?
I'm all about feeling good, especially when there's so much in this world that can make a person feel down in the dumps. For some reason though, I keep getting more prude the older I get.
What? Isn't it supposed to be the other way around?
It seems like my life is operating on some kind of Bell Curve where my promiscuity peaked around 25 or so. Over time I've started leaning towards more conservative clothing that covers me up (well, except for that September trip to Vegas) and have scaled down my more amorous attitude. I'm happy to be called The Good Girl and stand firm by my discerning tastes, but now I practically start picking out wedding china when I kiss a guy.
Image courtesy of China Etc.
I suppose there's a part of me that wants to reserve that kind of intimate contact for a special person. The wild side of me retorts "C'mon, Kate. It's only kissing. Even that doesn't warrant a confession at church."
So, my friends. Am I crazy? Is this whole demure, virginesque thing that's come over me TOTALLY bonkers? Should I love and let love, kissing madly with reckless abandon? Should I throw caution to the wind and keep the Chap Stick near by, or should I stick with my timidity and apprehension where my expressions of affection are concerned?
3 comments:
You know, I'm still waiting for my promiscuity to peak.
Kate-I'm a contributor at the spydrzweb, and, upon noticing your recurrent posts, was told that you live in lexington, Ky. I visited your site, read the 'kissing post' and your profile, and wanted say:
1. I lived in Lexington, before coming here for Graduate School, and enjoyed it a lot. Downtown was a nice quaint area, and I loved going to this one cigar bar...I can't remember the name. Still, a lovely place(my girlfriend is dying to move back).
2. Your profile states that you have Frank Sinatra listed as #2 on your list and Great Expectations as #1 on the reading list. Very nice.
3. As for the 'kissing' thing...don't sweat it. One can be discriminate without giving up his/her youth. Have a whole lotta fun while you can(who's gonna want to kiss for hours when they're 80), but be classy with regards to whom you choose to 'get down with'. Simple, really. Cheers.
Herodotus.... Welcome to my little playground. Hope you don't find yourself getting too dirty.
Ahh. The cigar bar probably was Nicholson's (next to DeSha's). It was a cute little place when the city allowed smoking in the bars. Mayor Teresa Isaac bullied through a smoking ban about a year ago... which is a travesty considering tobacco is the state's number 1 *legal* cashcrop. Oy vey.
Lexington is a charming little town. I've lived in several different parts of the country and I'm quite smitten with this little burg.
As for the whole kissing thing, Believe me. I am still very discriminating in that respect ;)
Post a Comment