Jessica Hildrum

Goat roper country pt.4

I went to the Prom that year with my best friend Saffron which was fantastic! I really was hoping “V” would ask me but he didn’t, a really nice guy asked me and I turned him down, I always regretted the way I did it, I don’t think I was particularly nice about it – he deserved better and I am sorry.

Saff and I went out for a meal at a fancy restaurant (well as fancy as it gets in bizarroland) and then we got wasted (ah the sins of my youth).  Saff and I always knew how to have a good time and she was the BEST date I could ever ask for, we danced and sung our hearts out, I remember she was wearing this beautiful grey dress, she was always so cool.

Prom 1985 - Anderson Valley High

We arrived at the Prom and I met “J” he was a bit older, probably 18 or 19, I don’t remember what he was doing at our Prom, maybe he was working with the band or maybe he was cruising for chicks, and God knows there was nothing much else to do in a town the size of a breath mint.   I went out with him a couple of times after the Prom though I don’t really remember him too well, you’d think that such a cutie would make a lasting impression, but not really – all I remember is that he was nice and that he liked me but that’s about it. Saff just remembers him vaguely, being a smooth talker.

So here is a picture from the Prom “J” and me, I was so young and look at him posing– hilarious, so cool.

That was a wild night, really wild, we partied all night and into the morning.  It was a great way to end my stay in the Valley and make way for a new life in Norway.

I wonder what happened to “J” and “V” cannot find anything when I Google them, I think “V” ended up in prison and “J” who knows.

I just found and reconnected with Saff on FB!! I am so glad I found her, she was such an important part of my life and I have missed her so much.  Just know Saff when I think of you it is with admiration and love.

Goat roper country pt. 3

I was in love when I was 15, in love with a hunk of a bad boy, blond, buff and bad, he had a nasty reputation, and an even nastier temper.  But he was never mean to me, never exactly available, but never mean. I remember feeling like the center of the universe when he kissed me, I can still feel those kisses – hear the music (the Scorpions Still lovin’ you) in the background – those soft tender kisses, enough to melt any young girl’s heart, feeling invincible and perfection incarnate in that one moment.  And then back to the party, milling around, drinking peppermint schnapps, watching him through a haze of Mendocino Greeno, and feeling like my heart would jump straight out of my chest with pure longing for that kiss again.

I don’t know how many times I “went out” with “V” but I know that every moment was wonderful, heartbreaking, tingly fun.

I fell in and out of love a lot that year, but the baseline was always “V” I lusted after him in the worst way, and he knew it.

I lusted after him right up until we moved to Norway and I saw “R” again, the most handsome piece of Viking godliness that ever was created, but that too is another story.

to be continued..

Goat roper country pt. 2

Let me set the tone

The year is 1985, we live in a little cabin on a ranch my room has a door that leads to a porch; the door has a crack under it big enough to let spiders, potato bugs and frogs in.  My room, which had I guess at one point been the kitchen had a big sink in it, where the potatobugs would get trapped.  The room is painted one half in pink and one half in purple, with a large pink and purple tye dyed sheet covering the water cistern beneath the sink.  Posters of Billy Idol, Prince, Robert Downey Jr., Rob Lowe, and the rest of the brat pack on my walls.  Heavy Metal, Teen girlie mags and Cosmo flung all around.

My ghetto blaster spouts the Go-Go’s, Prince, The Scorpions and Billy Idol (sometimes I even listened to Kenny Rogers – but please don’t tell anyone).

15 was not an easy age, probably not for anyone, though the cheerleaders with names like Candi, Melissa and Renee always made everything look easy – full of pep, laughter, popularity – while I; ever the outsider, dressed in my bleached jeans, blue lips and safety pins in the ears, survived on the periphery – trying to fool all with my tough attitude.  I bleached those jeans myself by hanging them up on a clothesline and throwing bleach at them, fancying myself a true rebel.

to be continued…

Goat roper country pt. 1

I have been thinking about my years in goat roper, shit-kicker, inbred hillbilly country.  The place people refer to when talking about somewhere so far out in nowhere that the only way to describe it would be the “boonies”.  A bizarre place with both hippydippy artsy fartsy bohemians and inbred locals set in some of the most powerful nature the United States has to offer, the Redwood forest.  Weather that starts chilly with frost in the morning and warms up to shorts weather by lunch time.  To put it bluntly – bizarroland.

We moved there when I was eleven straight from Rome, where I with my godfather like Roman accent went straight from private Italian school to sixth grade where I became one of the space cadets.. but that is another story.

to be continued…

I changed the picture

I was just getting way too much of the “wrong” type of attention, fun for a while but kind of exhausting (and I mean that in the mental not physical way, although I am sure it could have been physical if I had been more of a, for lack of a better word: slut, than I am).

The attention has been great, and having several handfuls of potential dates has been kind of cool but still, at the end of the day, I do actually want someone who wants to get to know me rather than just, well, do me – although actually, honestly I really want both and preferably with the getting to know me first – you know horse in front of the cart kind of deal.

The time has come to see if there are any conclusions to be made from the amazingly scientific social experiment that I have carried out, unbeknownst to the on-line dating pool – does a picture showing a lot of cleavage increase the amount of viewings of an on-line dating profile:

The answer is:

YES!

OMG I am so shocked!  But not only is the answer an unequivocal and resounding “YES” I have concluded further

1. Boobs are cool
2. Boobs get attention
3. Boobs and a pretty face are a nice combo that get a lot of attention
4. Boobs is a fun word to write

Having carried out this amazingly scientific project I have determined that while I can use the word boob or boobie or even boobies many times in a sentence, I prefer to not get that much boob fixated attention.

Yes, I have changed the picture back to an innocent portrait picture, the decrease in visits I am sure will leave a vacuum and threaten to destabilize the very fabric and structure of the internet, causing a black hole to open and suck our entire collective experience into the depths of darkness.   I apologize in advance for any mayhem that may result from the lack of Jessica boobies on the net.