Being in your 20s is like having a superpower — but you don’t realise you have it. You’re Superman, but you believe you’re Clark Kent and when you look back after 20 years have zipped by, you smack yourself on the forehead and you say, what an idiot! What was I doing walking when I could fly the whole time?
So, looking back, here’s some words of wisdom for me in my 20s.
Age 20: When you go on your J1, don’t trust the Killiney guys you’re going to share that first room with, they end up stealing your clothes. Just because someone has a posh accent and lives near Bono, does not a good person make.
Also, when you’re invited to go to your first baseball game in Yankee Stadium, do not drink so much you fall asleep in the toilets and end up losing your friends who have your bag and money. Pick the right, non-stabby-looking stranger to ask for that lift to Jamaica Station. You’ll also have to bum the money for the train to Long Island, and make sure your thumb is working, you are hitching back to that room, missy.
Age 21: You know that surfer dude that offers to buy you a pint in Yo Latino? Take it. It doesn’t matter that you’re on a date with a fella who came down from Galway, he’ll get over it. He is a Jimmy Jib camera operator for chrissake, you can’t even say it without sniggering. The surfer fella ends up cutting his hair, he has a very sexy skull. Oh, he also impregnates you thrice in the
future, spoiler alert.
Age 22: Turns out hanging out in the old bar wasn’t a complete waste of time, you don’t end up a teacher, but a journalist! Mooching in pubs is going to come in so handy!! Do get that HDip though, Mam and Dad getting dressed up for the graduation, showing them around UCC, that’s pretty special.
And don’t forget to get those photos developed, you’ll treasure them.
Age 23: Heed the wise words of pop sensation TLC and Don’t Go Chasing Waterfalls. Lisa ‘Left-Eye’ Lopes knew what she was talking about. In fact, don’t leave the house this year, please. You might think flying off to Australia is a good idea, but falling off a 120-ft waterfall in Canberra is no picnic, even if you do defy all sense and end up surviving. Sure you break your back, and your hip, and the doctors say you may never walk again.
They’ll put you in a rehab centre to learn how to adjust to life in a wheelchair. You will annoy the staff endlessly during cookery lessons by constantly referencing The Simpsons episode where Troy McLure says to the doctor: “Can I play the piano any more?”
”Of course you can.”
“Well, I couldn’t before.”
“Because I couldn’t cook BEFORE I was in the wheelchair!” you’ll guffaw and they’ll roll their eyes and say “Strewth, mate, change the record”, and then they’ll show you again how to put a muffin tray into a knee high oven. The doctors will also break it to you gently with kind eyes that you will face significant issues with any future pregnancy, but they don’t know about the surfer’s impregnation abilities so that all works out. By the end of this year, you’ll be in Maui with the surfer dude, skipping, swimming, sailing, surfing, you’ll be grand, girl.
Age 24: Don’t leave the surfer dude’s shoes in the common room of that hostel in Hollywood. They get stolen, and he brings it up a lot over the years. Also, it’s worth taking the three buses to meet the guy with the beat up VW camper van with the pop up tent — you end up selling it at profit to a student in Chico a few months later, after driving it around Mexico.
Also while you’re there, when the rando guy who crews rich people’s boats for a living asks ye if you want a snap, it doesn’t mean take a photo and you’ll look quite the rube when you agree and go rummaging in your bag for your digital camera while he produces a bag of cocaine, and a rolled up five dollar bill.
Age 25: Spend as much time as you can with Mam and Dad. By the end of this year, you won’t ever get the chance again.
Age 28: Do go to that party in Kinsale. You’ll see a National Geographic atlas on a coffee table and on the drive home you and surfer dude will talk about Africa and weeks later you’ll have shipped a Toyota Hilux to Alexandria and you’ll drive it from Cairo to Cape Town. (No need to tell the bank you’re leaving, I know they’re throwing mortgages at people, but best they don’t know. And get the tracker, I know you don’t know what it is, just do it.) You’ll get malaria, and ye’ll be arrested, ye’ll be lost and scared a lot, and you’ll nearly get smushed by elephants… it’ll be one of the best years of your life.
Age 29: Make an effort for this interview will ya? Imagine how delighted Mam and Dad would have been if you get a job in de paper. I know you think it’ll only be for a year or two before you go gallivanting off somewhere with the surfer again. But eh, heads up, it’s possible you’ll still be there 18 years later. You might even get your own column.
