The tale begins my freshman year of high school when I had just moved to a new town up North in Mendocino. I was living in a 100yr old log cabin miles from even even a neighbor and in the middle of nowhere in a middle of nowhere town. This is pertinent to give background to the intensity of any drama that could occur in my isolated teenage existence.

As teenage girls do, I fell for a broad shouldered, tan loser pot head with long blond hair that would glimmer in the sun. He invited me up to his cabin and we had a romantic night in which I considered losing my virginity, largely because it seemed there was not much else to do other than get stoned. I resisted, but invited him up to my house on the mountain later that week. While what we did for the first couple of hours has somehow escaped me now almost 20 years later, I do clearly remember at one point not being able to find him anywhere on the property and then finally finding him in my sisters bedroom. She had thrown away her virginity some years before, so I guess in a way she saved me from doing the same. Still pretty dramatic at the time. Come on, I win.