Do you ever google yourself? I don’t mean a straight-up vanity google to see if anyone has mentioned your name (damn right you do–I get google alerts for my name daily); I mean something a little weirder, and I hope I am not the only person who does stuff like this.
See, I read this post on first kisses. And I remembered mine, and for the first time in seventeen years I didn’t cringe. It was what it was. It was even kind of nice. That was, after all, the first night I saw Tarsem’s work (before the kiss we watched MTV, including the “Losing My Religion” video), and he went on to make my favorite movie.
But the kiss. His name was Barrett. He was three years older than me. He had ratty blond metal hair. I was way into him. I sincerely doubt that I could pick him out of a lineup now. (Not that I think he’s a criminal! I’m sure that at least 50% of kids raised in Saugerties, NY, go on to be law-abiding citizens.)
So I googled “barrett first kiss.” Why? I have absolutely no idea. I certainly wasn’t trying to find out if he was anyone else’s first kiss, though it would be kinda cool to find that someone else had written about him. No, see, I think maybe I was looking for myself. As if some other me had written about my first kiss. I told you it was weird.
Naturally, I got one gazillion results for Elizabeth Barrett Browning poems about kissing.