Today the goddess speaks about herself:I LOVE kissing. I can't express how much.
Well, I've kind of been missing out lately. Oh, I get the good-bye peck on the way out the door, the smooch on the cheek when my mom stops by, and the kisses from the kids.
I'm missing the passionate, kiss until you are breathless, kisses. Kisses that leave your lips chapped, jaw sore, and toes curled for a week. Those are the ones I am missing.
For awhile, one of my groups of friends, was into the double cheek kiss. I think is was after someone's trip to Europe. That kind of kissing is so confusing. I never know whether to go left first, or to the right. I'm pretty sure my European ancestors didn't do the double kiss thing, so it isn't even in my collective, genetic memory. Anyway, this group of friends kept it up for a couple of years. As much as I love kissing, this style of smooching was fun at first, but quickly became tiresome. The custom lost it's lustre, and died off at some point. Possibly, after a broken nose or two occurred. (Fortunately, I have a small nose).
I remember kissing someone with a very large nose. It really got in the way. Talk about not knowing whether to go left or right. We were always smacking into each other. That relationship didn't last long. He did have the most amazingly long eyelashes though. I always wondered what it would have been like if I had also had a large nose. I guess a couple has to figure that kind of problem out. Maybe it comes naturally if you are "meant to be". That was certainly the case for my spouse and I. We had no trouble remaining in a lip lock for a good six months after we met. I don't recall even an eyelash getting in the way. I think I also spent one year of high school in a never-ending kiss, resulting in my current TMJ problem. But, then who didn't spend a year in high school doing something like that? Perhaps not kissing, but some type of obsessive hormonal behavior. I won't attempt to list what those might be. I don't want to delve into the private business of others.
So, kissing. Kissing is good. Not kissing isn't the worst thing, but I've had more fun when it was an insidious part of my life. (Can insidiousness-ness be a good thing? Let's say yes so I don't have to pull out the thesaurus and interrupt my flow). If kissing were a sport I could watch it on TV. Wait. Scratch that. I think that is called, Porn. Watching isn't anything like doing. Doing elevates the endorphins and may give you a cold. There is more excitement in the risk of doing.
As I contemplate the deeper issue of less kissing in my house, I know that all I have to do is walk out to the guy pressing apples into cider on my back porch, and have my kissing way with him. He won't object. It is really that simple. What the heck am I whining about? And yes, it's my husband.
May peace and more kissing be yours from, The Goddess of Everything.
