Two hundred and fourteen

Today’s post is a little different – a reoccurring character in the blog has given me a video of his first kiss story, as opposed to me writing it.  The famous Eco-comedian (who I met during date month, accompanied me for my two lunches in Yorkville – one as a ‘hussy’ and one as a ‘bum’, and has become a good friend of mine) tells the story of his first kiss and why he’s never really gotten over it.  It’s a one-take video, so he does go on a bit of a tangent at times (sorry Josh), but the raw emotion of what it feels like to never get over your first love is there.  Josh shares a lot of his life online through video and photography (his You Tube page is here if you’re interested) and is currently running for Green Party MPP in Eglinton-Lawrence (his Facebook page here).  Thanks Josh for really opening up and sharing this part of your life, even though I know it was hard for you.

The Eco-comedian/Josh’s first kiss – a tragic story of love and loss

Two hundred and thirteen

I’m back in the swing of things.  I forgot how comfortable my bed is and how much I love my apartment.  I ran into an old university friend yesterday that reminded me how many people there are in Toronto I care about.  I guess this city isn’t so bad.  Although I still wish it had mountains surrounding it!

On to the topic of the month – as promised, a double bill of first kiss stories from my two amazing university friends:


“The best story about a first kiss that comes to mind is my funniest.  I’d been on numerous dates with this guy and he hadn’t kissed me.  I was getting really frustrated.  I’m not the type of girl to make the first move.  We had just seen a movie at the Scotiabank Theatre and we were standing at King and John or somewhere around there.  It was cold out and snowy – in the winter sometime.  I was so aggravated he didn’t make a move, so I just put my face up really close to his and kissed him.  He looked a little shocked.  I thought ‘great, done, out of the way, that’s the way it’s done!’  It was more a kiss out of aggravation than romance.”


“My first ‘first kiss’?  It’s a little kid one.  I was 9 and he was 10.  We were in the school yard.  Myself and my best friend from grade three were ‘dating’ these two boys who were in grade four.  We decided we would both kiss them at the same time.  It was behind the portable so the teachers couldn’t catch us. We counted down, then gave them the tiniest little peck on the lips that didn’t really count.  They ran off cheering. We ‘dated’ for three weeks.

I’m still friends with both of the guys.  Funnily enough, later on I ended up kissing the other guy.  My original kiss still introduces me as ‘This is Siobhan – she was my first kiss’.”

Two hundred and twelve

I’m waiting to hear back from the second part of my double bill, so it will have to wait another day.  Today’s story comes from my friend Jenn.  When I first talked about writing first kiss stories Jenn sent me the most adorable video of two little kids having their first kiss.  She was also excited to share her first kiss story.  I will let her words and the video speak for themselves:


Jenn’s childhood friend’s “kissing medicine”

“When I was a kid I grew up with a boy named Ryan.  My mom was best friends with a guy she went to high school with and when he got married, she became best friends with his wife.  They had a kid…that would be Ryan.  He was 2 years younger than me and I met him the second day of his life and we were pretty inseparable after that.  We hung out, played normal kid games, watched Howard the Duck for hours on end and were the best of friends.  The “When Harry met Sally moment” came pretty early for us (if you don’t know what I am talking about, it is the debate as to whether men and women can actually be friends).  I was 8 and he was 6 and he wanted to play “doctor”.  I had no idea what that meant.  What that meant to Ryan was that I would pretend I was asleep from a spell from an evil wizard and he would be the doctor who would wake me up with his “kissing medicine”.  At first he would kiss my hand and I would wake up all sleepy and then thank him for saving me.  We would giggle and run around the room (even then we knew we were probably doing something we shouldn’t).  One day, I had just been poisoned with the sleeping potion from the evil wizard (a role Ryan decided he also wanted to play.  We would fill a cup up with Tang and pretend it was a potion), and I shut my eyes and waited for the kiss on my hand but he planted one right on my lips.  At the time I wiped it off and ran around the room coughing and screaming and laughing.  Now I look back on it as one of my favourite memories with Ryan.  I have now known him for 26 years and we still hang out, play games, watch Howard the Duck, and talk about his “kissing medicine”.

*When I called Ryan and asked him if I could share this moment he stated that he was not my first kiss.  I had a moment on the playground in elementary school where two boys who I was in class with, Marc Upton and Andrew King, tapped me on the shoulder at the same time and when I turned around they both kissed me on the cheek.  I insist that this happened AFTER Ryan and I kissed.  He insists before.”

Two hundred and eleven

“Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport. General opinion’s starting to make out that we live in a world of hatred and greed, but I don’t see that. It seems to me that love is everywhere. Often it’s not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it’s always there – fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends.” – Love Actually

photo from Wikipedia

How I love and hate airports.  It’s always the beginning and the ending of something.  The possibility for adventure is endless.  What excitement awaits me at my destination?  What if I changed my flight and instead went to Montreal or Halifax or Paris?  But then there’s the all the waiting around, sitting for long periods of time, and breathing stale, recycled air.  Sometimes I wish I was Jeannie from I Dream of Jeannie and could just blink and be somewhere else, without all the commuting time.

I’m often in airports alone and I always find myself reflecting on my life, where I’m going and where I’m coming from – in both the  immediate and larger senses.  It was hard to leave behind the beauty of the outdoors and the life on the road to come back to a city I am not too fond of right now.  What is keeping me in Toronto?  The airport makes the nomad in me is cry and plead for change.

But it also makes me so grateful that I have the opportunities that I do: that I live in a country that I can drive and camp safely across; that as a woman I can travel alone without fear; that I was brought up in a family that had both the means and the encouragement to start my love of exploration.

With all this reflecting and my long day of travel, I complete forgot about the blog, to ask someone about their first kiss, and almost didn’t remember to write (I believe this is the first time that has happened in the seven months I’ve been doing this).  I will have to include a double bill of first kiss stories tomorrow.  Stay tuned…

Two hundred and ten

My last night in British Columbia

Alas, my journey is coming to an end.  I fly back to Toronto tomorrow and leave the beautiful mountains behind me.  Although I love the culture Toronto has to offer, I miss dearly the proximity to outdoor activities and beautiful landscapes that is present everywhere in the west.  I wish I could have it all.  The nomad in me is getting restless.  Perhaps it’s time for a move…

The Vancouver sushi I will be missing

For now, though, I concentrate on the book, finishing up first kiss stories and preparing myself for the difficult task of being vegan next month.  My story today comes from Isabelle working at Saje in Kitsilano.  Isabelle is a short-haired thin woman in her late fifties, obviously passionate about natural products and her job selling them.  When I mentioned my project, there was a pause and then a moment that had we been a cartoon, a lightbulb would have appeared over Isabelle’s head.

Isabelle and her vow never to kiss again…

“I remember my first kiss!  Isn’t that funny?  It was so long ago.  We were playing spin the bottle and young, very young.  I don’t remember his name.  Of course I knew the boy I wanted to kiss.  Instead I spun and the first boy that kissed me had braces.  I remember it being all metal.  Why would anyone want to do that?!  My mom said I never wanted to kiss a boy ever again!”

I asked Isabelle if she told her mom right away.  “She was right there!” Isabelle said.  “That was a long time ago.  They wouldn’t leave us alone.”