Turning 30 and Reflecting on my 20s

Well, it’s the day that I never thought would come. 1 August 1994 I came into this world a surprise baby with a full head of pin-straight black hair and green eyes. My parents had no idea what insanity and adventures would be in store for them in the years to come. With my first name a Rolling Stones song and my middle name a Beatles song, you’d think that would be some foreshadowing, but nothing would prepare this boomer couple for the classic rock obsession that would shape my life.

From DJ to Writer

A little over half my lifetime ago I watched Austin Powers for the first time and that’s how I got into the 60s. My gateway band like many other millennial classic rock fans were The Beatles and from there I got into all sorts of classic rock. At that time though, writing wasn’t on my mind. Rather, I wanted to be a radio DJ because my dad was a DJ in the 70s and I watched the movie The Boat That Rocked. Life had other plans for me because radio is a dying medium. Let’s be real so is literature and writing, we’re back to how it used to be, dominated by trust fund babies and famous people. Alas, I am neither. Just someone with way too much time on their hands and a rock and roll obsession. Throughout secondary school and university, if it wasn’t about classic rock, I wasn’t interested. English class? Boring! Maths? Who needs that! Science? A bit more interesting, but not my passion. History? My favourite subject! French? I liked learning the language, but didn’t like the teacher.

No matter the subject or assignment, I always found a way to make it about classic rock and I started my most ambitious project when I was 20. The Diversity of Classic Rock. It was an idea I’d been sitting on for about a year and I came up with it when the programme director of the radio station said that the music I play is just a bunch of straight white guys from the 70s. I knew that classic rock was more diverse than that and I started making lists of musicians of different backgrounds. For my Introduction to Social Media class, we had to create a blog about a topic of our choice and so I started The Diversity of Classic Rock. Originally, my vision was to make a complete guide to the diverse people who make classic rock, but I fell in love with writing and over time I evolved the vision of my blog into classic rock storytelling and deep dives and that’s how it became the blog you know and love today. To date there’s over a million words spread across over 500+ blog posts. I’ve seen people cite my blog in university theses, I’ve had academics contact me, and I’ve seen secondary schools use my blog as a resource. I really hope that you’ve felt like you’ve gotten an education on classic rock from a woman born 50 years too late. Born too late to see rock bands in their prime, born too early to become a TikTok star, born right in time to start this blog. Born to be Wild.

So when people ask me what I’ve been up to in my 20s? I’ll just show them this blog and my book. I feel like a loser, but I’ve come to terms with it because life doesn’t really mean much to me. None of this means anything. At the end of the day, none of your possessions come with you. When you join the Great Gig In The Sky, it’s just you. I’m glad I’ve had so many great experiences in my 20s and I don’t plan to stop adventuring and trying new things in life. I guess as a farewell to my 20s, here’s the story of that rollercoaster.

Forever alone? Not me!

No one looked at me in secondary school. Not a single person found me attractive then. “Wait until uni,” they say. “Someone will find you beautiful…” I tried to stay optimistic that someone would find me beautiful and would want to be with me, but I had no luck the first few years of university. I felt ugly and unwanted and I doubted that I would ever get a boyfriend or girlfriend. I thought I’d be a forever alone crazy dog lady. None of those things would end up true, because I’m married and I’ve been converted into a cat lady.

I started university when I was 17 and not a single person had a crush on me. I was skinny, flat chested, awkward looking, but was starting to come into my own style wise. I started amassing vintage clothing and vinyl when I moved to Toronto at 17 and got so many bargains. I tried to live my life as if I lived in the 60s and I’d spend my days listening to music in my dorm room and going to the stacks in the library to read books about classic rock and the 60s instead of going to parties or nightclubs. I was a total nerd.

When I was 19, I moved back to Chicago and had no luck making friends. I needed a way out and I went straight to the study abroad office and I looked at the list of locations and the only English speaking country on the list was Ireland. My first choice was going to the UK, but they didn’t offer it. Gosh this university sucks! I was desperate for a way out and I was absolutely not going to return to Florida, where my parents live, and attend a university there. I shrugged my shoulders and said let’s do it. I had nothing to lose.

I was nervous about going to Ireland and in those days I used Tumblr. I decided to make a post about looking for a penpal/friend at the university I would study at and I put the university’s name in the tags. Six hours ahead of me in Ireland, a young man named Eoin was bored at home scrolling on Tumblr and he saw my post and decided to message me and that was the beginning of a months long conversation and now a decade old friendship. Little did he know, he was messaging his future girlfriend and then wife. He and I were in different fandoms on Tumblr and the likelihood of him finding me randomly on Tumblr wasn’t likely because he isn’t as much into classic rock as I am. It was like a fairy tale and meant to be. He liked the way I looked and he liked me even more when he found out I had a radio show and turned in. The first time he tuned in things were malfunctioning at the station and to fill up time, I played Neutral Milk Hotel’s In the Aeroplane Over the Sea. He really liked my voice and found it soothing. I’m not sure how because I think I sound like a foghorn.

I had a lot of fun things planned for my 20th birthday: meeting Temples, meeting Tommy Wiseau, going to my favourite restaurant – a Chinese restaurant in Libertyville called Hunan Palace (until I left Chicago, It was a place my family would regularly go to since I was a baby), and seeing Heart in concert. I also had to pack my bags for Ireland.

On 1 September 2014 I left for Ireland and I arrived into Shannon Airport the following day. The university arranged a coach to take the international students from the airport to their accommodation. The bus pulled up to the entrance of the student village and we all got out. We checked in and received our keyfobs and told which house we were assigned to. Oh great I was assigned to the house that was the furthest away from the office and I have to drag my bags all the way there. Well, it’s only one time I guess. I unpack my things, set up my computer, and straight away I DM Eoin on Tumblr. He just arrived at his accommodation and he walked over to my house. Eoin knocked on the door and I answered. He was wearing his Who shirt, making a good impression on me. I wanted to give him a hug, but I wasn’t sure if he would like it. We walked around campus and got to know each other. The weather was beautiful the first three weeks I was there and we took full advantage of it, walking around a lot and going to his flat to watch movies every night. I didn’t want to walk back so late at night and I asked him if I could stay at his flat. I liked him and I didn’t know it for the first couple of weeks, but he liked me back. We were both awkward and worried about being rejected by the other. One day I was tired and I fell asleep on top of him and he held my hand. Later that night, we asked each other out. One week in, I said “I love you”. Two months into our relationship, I accidentally said we’d been together for two years. Is this a sign that I’ve found the one? Whenever I’d get sick, he’d take care of me. When I had period cramps, he would always make sure that he had ice cream and chocolate for me. He’s always been thoughtful and there for me. He’s a keeper.

During my 20s there were a lot of sad and lonely moments and I had a few of those during my relationship. I was forced to be long distance with Eoin a couple of times. The first time was when I went back to Chicago to finish my bachelor’s and the second time was when he took this new job in England. My parents found a way to keep me with Eoin as long as possible the first go around so they booked flights right before my visa ran out and instead of picking me up in Ireland, they paid for Eoin’s ticket to Florida so he could help bring back my stuff and he could meet the family and travel a bit in Florida. When I first met Eoin, he had only been out of the country a few times, once to Paris and a few times to Lanzarote in the Canary Islands. He was excited to be travelling across the Atlantic for the first time, but his opinion of Florida is that it’s so robotic looking and looks kind of dystopian. Can’t say he’s wrong. We went to Universal Studios and had a great time. The week flew by and we travelled back on the same flight together and we cuddled the entire time and I cried when he changed planes to go to Ireland and I left with my parents to go on a cruise. My parents made sure that we wouldn’t be apart for too long and so they booked me a flight for Christmas break 2015 so I could be with Eoin for the holidays. Our relationship stood the test of time and we always made time to video chat with each other, message each other every day, and we’d buy each other gifts and eat meals together over video calls. I knew that I would never want to be with anyone else, even if it means never getting to experience what it’s like to be with a woman. I’m old-fashioned.

A visit is nice, but in every long distance relationship, you need to have a plan to reunite and over that last school year, I tried to figure it out. I knew I wanted to marry Eoin, but he thought it was too soon and looking at the different options, it made more sense for me to move to Ireland and I’d go on a student visa and sign up for a journalism MA. I originally planned to go on a safari in South Africa, but I pulled out because I had a surgery to correct a deformity and instead I visited Eoin in Ireland. I’d spend a few weeks there before coming back to America. Right before I left America for good, my great grandmother died. The day before, she was in hospital and could barely speak. My mum video chatted with her while we were out and I said my last goodbye to her. My university years were bookended with death and they were just an awful, dark time in my life. My great aunt died in May of 2017 just as I was about to start writing my thesis. My closest friend in the journalism course Cillian died in March 2018, not long after graduation. He was one of the inspirations behind my book.

I thought that that year spent apart would be the last time we were long distance, but I was wrong. Last year, Eoin got a new job in England and he moved over first because I didn’t have Irish citizenship yet and I didn’t want to pay thousands of pounds for a visa. After six gruelling months, I finally got my citizenship and I moved over to England and now I’ve been here for almost a year. Here’s to many more years!

New Country: Living in three countries and travelling around the world

I’ve lived in four countries, and during my 20s I lived in three countries: the US, Ireland, and the UK. Hopefully I won’t have to move countries again. I really like living here. When I was a teenager I knew I wanted to get out of the US and I wanted to be as far away from Florida as possible. My views and my values just didn’t align with Florida. I wanted to be somewhere that was more accepting of LGBT people and I wanted to live somewhere more progressive. Not that anywhere in the Anglosphere is a socialist wonderland! While I wouldn’t say that Trump is the worst president the United States has ever had, I think that title goes to Reagan, his presidency made America worse and the Democrats are no remedy. I have no hope there. I don’t see Kamala Harris as a saviour. Just another disappointment. Maybe I’m weird, but as a mixed person I’d feel insulted if the reason I’m being praised is because of my identity. If I were a politician I wouldn’t want people to vote for me because I’m mixed. In general I want people to like me for me, take it or leave it. I’m not a charity case or a prop to use for “woke” points. Kamala Harris to me is just a sellout. She bangs on about how she’s a Rose Parks or Ruby Bridges like figure with her “that little girl was me” line that railed against segregationists like Joe Biden, but she teamed up with Biden anyway. Weak, sellout behaviour.

One thing that defines my generation is our desire for experiences over material goods. Instead of buying luxury goods and flexing, my priority was travel. I love travelling as much as I love classic rock. The summer of 2014, before meeting Eoin, I went on a Mediterranean cruise with my parents visiting Spain, France, and Italy – a dream trip for me. During my study abroad year I travelled to Berlin, Paris, Amsterdam, Bruges, the Canary Islands, Edinburgh, and to various places in the south of France. On Eoin’s first visit to London in January 2017 we got engaged after seeing a friend struggle with immigration. There’s no way Eoin was going to let me go back to an America under Trump. A few months later, we travelled to Berlin together to see Temples in concert. My husband and I honeymooned in Australia in 2017 and went back to Australia the following year in 2018 to visit Eoin’s family who live in Queensland and so Eoin could go to a conference. I joined Eoin in Manchester for a conference in 2019 and London for a conference in 2022. In 2018, Eoin and I went to the Caribbean and we returned in 2019, also visiting New York City, his first visit. I visited NYC two other times in my 20s: once in 2016 and again in 2018 on my way to Israel. 2019 was a big year for travel for me because I went to Prague and Krakow to do Angloville. You can read about a lot of these adventures in my travel blogs. Can’t guarantee the information about restaurants and things to do is the most up to date, but I like to think I tell good stories and take good pictures. Thanks to covid, travel had to be put on the back burner and I was stuck in Ireland until 2021 when I got my passport back from immigration and I visited my grandfather for the very last time. He wasn’t the same as I remembered him because he had dementia. In a way, I felt like he died twice. Finally in 2022, restrictions started to loosen and so we travelled to London twice and my parents planned a European trip and I joined them for Turkey and Athens. Later that year, we went on another Mediterranean cruise and we went to Italy, Israel, Turkey, and Greece. Eoin also joined us for the Hawaii cruise and after that we travelled to California to visit my cousin. That was the trip where I tried mushrooms for the first time and wow, what an experience. As The Moody Blues sang, “you gotta make the journey out and in”. All I can say is I went to the mushroom world, heard the Wall of Sound in my head, and animated pictures of space with my mind.

Finally, I feel like it is time to settle down and so we bought a house and instead of spending money on travelling, we spent money on making this house a home. Like I envisioned in my early 20s, I’ve themed the different rooms in my house with a Victorian themed living room and a 60s themed bedroom. The office/spare room is a hodgepodge of things I love with gothic furniture, a divan, a desk for my sewing machine, and a desk for my computer. The plans for decoration are Spongebob and classic rock posters. I think those themes sum up the different sides of me, loving sophisticated old fashioned things, rock and roll, all things gothic and dark, and cartoons from my childhood. With this house being from the mid-20th century, I had to put very California/Vegas looking house numbers on the outside: cursive with eight point starbursts. I have many fond childhood memories of my great aunt’s neighbourhood full of 60s midcentury modern homes. Her house was the one house in the neighbourhood with a pool, a bit odd for Chicago because you could only use it for three months out of the year, but the previous owner was an old person with back pain (I believe?) and swimming is really helpful for that.

Fighting My Way Back: Dealing with chronic illness

Speaking of back pain, that was something that was new to me. I thought it was just a normal thing to happen to 25 year olds and along with spotting and frequent cramps throughout the month, I waved it off. Covid rolled around and I couldn’t get in contact with the doctor. Eventually I’d had enough and I called the doctor to report that my birth control, that I’d been relying on to stop my periods for four years has stopped working and I wanted a hysterectomy because the pain had kept progressively getting worse. After multiple scans and doctors shrugging their shoulders, I luckily got an apathetic gynaecologist to approve me for a hysterectomy. I travelled to Lithuania to get a hysterectomy because I couldn’t afford the cost of the surgery in Ireland and there was a scheme to get my surgery reimbursed if I travel somewhere in the EU. It was a battle to get reimbursed, so much bureaucracy and frustration, but we did it and I got the call when I was in Edinburgh with my parents that I am getting reimbursed. A whole six months after my surgery date.

Chronic illness robbed me of what is supposed to be the best years of my life and it caused me so much pain. But at the same time, it was my excuse to not work and in a weird way I missed it because I had some sort of routine and a set of rituals and dealing with that for almost three years, it had become familiar to me and it took time to adjust to being healthy again and it was a huge adjustment mentally. No, I’d never want to have another period again, no matter how much you would pay me. That entire time I was pushing myself to write and write to prove that I wasn’t a wastrel.

Thankfully, recovery was very smooth and after a year and a half of recovery I got a job with a steady paycheque and I’m currently focusing on that instead of writing about classic rock. I don’t want to burn myself out. I want to come back to writing about music with a clearer head and a more relaxed state of mind. There’s much more to life than writing and working and I need more balance. For years, writing was my whole life. Socialising and going out were things I didn’t get to do much living in Ireland because there was less to do and because I was sick for a good bit of it.

While not the same thing, writing is certainly not as risky as gymnastics, it’s why I have a lot of respect for Simone Biles. When she competed at the Tokyo Olympics, she put herself first and took a break for her mental health and because she’d gotten the twisties. Her inspiration to do this was tennis player Naomi Osaka, who’d withdrawn from the French Open and Wimbledon for mental health reasons. She doesn’t owe anyone anything. Besides, she has more than proven herself as the GOAT with all of those gold medals from Rio 2016 and now with two golds in Paris. Had she competed and not been in the best condition, with all of those difficult moves, she could have ended up seriously injuring herself. Look at what happened to Yelena Mukhina. One wrong move and you could be paralysed! Just like it’s bad to train with a broken leg, it’s also bad to train when you’ve got the twisties or you’re struggling with your mental health. Mental and physical health are linked. I’ve written things when I was feeling heated and I chose not to publish them until I’ve gone through and edited it with a calmer mind, and sometimes not at all. I’d rather write fewer things that I’m proud of than write a lot of things that I’m not proud of. I don’t want to throw anything at the wall and see what sticks. When you’re a writer there’s no clocking in or clocking out, you’re always working and always coming up with ideas and it’s hard to take a break. I’m not one to keep with social media trends and I’m glad I’m not because I don’t want to turn writing into a hamster wheel.

Parenthood: Moonie and Bowie

You might not know Moonie, but she was my first cat and she died two months after I adopted her. I always thought I would get a dog, but when the opportunity to adopt a cat arrived, I had to say yes. I developed a close bond with Moonie before she died of a kidney problem. I was devastated and I knew that life wouldn’t be the same without a cat. I wanted to adopt another and then one day I got a text from Eoin, a friend of a coworker had a cat who had kittens. He sent me videos and pictures of the litter and my eyes were on a cute cat with spots that resembled Peter Gabriel’s weird hairstyle from the 70s where he shaved the middle of his head. I wasn’t sure what to name the cat and I asked some friends if they preferred Mercury or Bowie. My friend Nick said it has to be Bowie and so Bowie it is!

Everyone who knows about Bowie loves Bowie. She’s bratty and hyper a lot of the time, but with a face like hers you can’t get upset with her! She looks like a model. You can even buy a copy of my book signed by Bowie! How cool is that? Saying you have a book signed by Bowie (just don’t elaborate! 😉).

I’m often alone at home and it’s great having Bowie around and she cheers me up.

What’s Next?

I had a few ideas for a trip for my birthday, but with a big trip coming up next month, I don’t have the money to spend on anything that involves flying somewhere or staying overnight. I’ve been into The Beatles for over half my life and I’m living in England now so what better thing to do than have a Beatles themed birthday? I mean they have a Birthday song and I love Liverpool so why not go there with Eoin because he’s never been. Might write a blog post about it, but we’ll see. Next month’s big trip will be covered in a blog post and I have a couple of concerts to look forward to this year. Hopefully with things settling down at home, I can travel more next year. Here’s to another solar return.

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