memories

Freudian, Philosophical, Five, and First Kisses

Posted by figleaf | Tags:

Fri, 2009-09-18 13:27

Via bookofjoe, the humorous “Philosophy of Kissing” from Dr. Rude of The Unnatural Enquirer

Aristotelian kiss: a kiss performed using techniques gained solely from theoretical speculation untainted by any experiential data, by one who feels that the latter is irrelevant anyway.

GÃ¶delian kiss: a kiss that takes an extraordinarily long time, yet leaves you unable to decide whether you’ve been kissed or not.

Grouchoic kiss: a kiss given by someone who will only kiss those who would not kiss him or her.

More types of kisses here.

Technically I think a GÃ¶delian kiss would be one where you couldn’t consistently maintain the falsity of the statement “a kiss is just a kiss” in any system that includes arithmetical expressions. But that’s close enough.

Actually I’d add

Freudian Kiss: Sometimes a kiss is just a kiss.

If the Dr. Rude’s post is funny, Kizz of The Women’s Colony Bedroom blog is sweet when she discusses five of her most memorable kisses (where “memorable” sometimes means joyous, sometimes means first, and other times means sad or incomplete.)

My first French kiss. In the outdoor entryway of the small town’s public library. Raining out. With a geek. Nice enough guy but one of the sort whose nerdiness trends toward arrogance. It was chilly. My nose was running but I was embarrassed to wipe it. It was awful. He pumped his tongue in and out in a way that brought oil derricks to mind. Rhythmic, intrusive, completely devoid of emotion.

Read about the rest of her memorable kisses here.

My first kiss was also my first French kiss was also one of the nicest kisses I’ve ever, ever had. It was at a pre-Christmas party for some kids from my high school, or maybe even Jr. High. Someone’s cousin was visiting from out of town. There was mistletoe. I’m not at all sure how we got to that point — I think maybe others had been doing it — but she asked if I was going to kiss her (no way I’d have thought to do it myself) and so I did. I remember her thick wool sweater, and her upturned face, and I think I remember that she was standing on the first step on a flight of stairs or something because I remember I was quite a bit taller than she, and oh my do I remember that kiss! Our lips just perfectly fit together, and parted naturally. Our tongues met softly and delicately swirled and lingered a moment longer before we stopped. She exhaled. I did too. That was it. We hung out a bit before the party ended. I returned to my home, she returned to her hometown, and we never saw each other again.

It was several years before I had a chance to kiss anyone else.

How ‘bout yours?

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The Erotics of Everyday Events

Posted by figleaf | Tags:

Thu, 2008-06-12 13:26

Photo by Flickr user Daniels View. Used under a Creative Commons license.

Z of The Naked Truth begins her post with what to me was always one of the most wonderfully erotic events in the summertime south…

This morning when I woke I thought it was too early. The room was darker than it usually is even at pre-dawn: I checked the reflection in the picture opposite my bed, and I could see that I had left the shutter up and the window open, as I always do, even in the depths of winter, which this is so patently not. During the night the rain that we longed for in the sticky heat of yesterday afternoon must have come.

She said it here.

The daytime temperature here in the Northwest is well above the unusual-even-for-her 40 degrees Fahrenheit it’s been stuck at lately but I know much of the rest of the country’s been laid low by heat. (Even in Alaska it’s been in the 70s.)

Z goes on to talk about the pleasure of stroking tenderly soft skin (very nicely, definitely read it) and I remembered how when humidity and heat combine there’s no such thing as soft or smooth skin because it’s all trumped by stickiness such that even tender caresses tend to chaff and rub. I know other people feel otherwise but for me heat and humidity and libido don’t play well together in sentences without, perhaps, the addition of the word “not” somewhere between them.

Anyway, remembering the relief of wind and pressure drop and lower temperatures that summer rain brings, and how even if for just until the sun comes back out our skin responds to a lover’s touch, I read “During the night the rain that we longed for…” and

Wow, funny how such ordinary phrases can be so welcome.

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