The Adventures of GirlChild

A guest blog by GirlChild. Like what you read? Follow her on Instagram.
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Do you think I asked for this? Do you think I asked for ANY of this?

Okay, for those of you that know me and know what I’m on about, it probably does seem like something I asked for. For those that don’t know me; what you’re about to see, you may not believe, but I promise you with every ounce of my being that it is.


I am Girl Child. My mom has written about me before, but never to the extent that I am about to go into myself. It’s not her story to tell, it’s mine. I’m in my 20s, Wisconsin born and raised. I lived in Florida for two years, moved back to Wisconsin for almost two years, and then one day at the end of summer 2016, everything changed.


You see, I’m a huge KISS fan, and if you know anything about non-casual KISS fans—you know, the ones you see depicted in movies or TV—we will do almost anything for those boys short of murder. Actually, come to think of it, some KISS fans might commit murder if doing so gave them the opportunity to rub shoulders with Paul Stanley, Gene Simmons, Tommy Thayer, and Eric Singer for the night. Either way, not the point. The point is we will do a hell of a lot for the opportunity to be so close to greatness.


One night last summer, I was at a KISS concert… not a surprise. I was hanging out with someone I’m proud to call a friend afterwards (if you’re reading this, love you dude), and decided I was going to fly to New York City for another KISS show the following month. Remember when I said we’ll do a hell of a lot to be so close to greatness? This is just one example. I did as planned, and it was a great time. But here’s the kicker:

I never went back to Wisconsin from that trip.

I just said screw it and stayed in New York. A week and a half after arriving, I got a job at a restaurant in Brooklyn. A week and a half after that, I got a phone call from another friend. You see, when I moved out here, I started a blog about what it was like leaving Wisconsin with a couple hundred dollars, no job, and no house. This friend had seen it, and thought I was a fantastic writer. She then expressed to me that she does concert photography for a music website, and was wondering if I would be interested in her passing my information on to the editor of that site so I could possibly do CD reviews, concert reviews, and artist interviews. Of course, I said yes. Why wouldn’t I, right?


The editor contacted me and everything was quickly squared away. I told him there was a concert I’d planned on attending anyway, since they were going to be on the KISS Kruise, and asked if I could do a review on the show. He promptly said yes and that right there was the beginning of the end.
Since that night, I’ve become friends with that band, started working for that band, and my god… are they ever picking up steam! I’ve rubbed shoulders with some of the greatest in rock n’ roll. I even just got back from KISS’ European/United Kingdom tour, where the boys I work for were the supporting act.


It is truly amazing how quickly you find your life running in an entirely different direction than ever planned. It is even more amazing how quickly that different direction can snowball you into a lifestyle you never imagined yourself legitimately living, despite wanting to.
If you told me a year ago today all the things I would accomplish by this time the following year, I would’ve laughed in your face and told you I needed to get back to work. But it’s real, and I own it.

My life is not for the faint of heart.

Speak with Passion

My mom grew up in a very small town. Many of the residents were born there, spent their lives farming there, and died there.

My uncle, her youngest brother, wasn't having any of that. He never wanted to work hard so he knew farming wasn't for him. He viewed the Marine Corps as his way out. I'm not sure how he decided this was less work than farming and I've never asked. He enlisted in the Marines because his older brothers and one sister had served in the Army and the Air Force. He also did not want to be on a boat so the Navy was out.

I was quite young when my uncle left for boot camp so I have no memory of it.  I learned later that he was an embassy guard. He'll tell you he was selected for that assignment because he looked good in the uniform. (My family is very modest.) During his four-year commitment, he mailed us letters and gifts from all over the world. I still have the wooden shoes he sent me from his trip to Holland.

Girl-child owns a beer stein he sent to his mother from Germany. After Grandma passed away, the stein was returned to him. He gifted it to girl-child because she had also been to Germany, speaks the language, and loves the country.

When I was nine or ten, this uncle came to stay with us for a visit. I don't remember if he was still in the service but - if forced to answer the question - I would say his commitment was up.

He was sleeping on the pull-out couch in the living room. I was always an early riser so I'm sure I was warned against waking him up in the morning when my mom sent me to bed the night before. I'm also sure I forgot that by morning when I crept downstairs in my pajamas. I didn't wake him though. I asked if he was awake and he replied that he was.

I crawled onto the couch with him and we talked for a long time. He talked to me like I was an adult. He told me he was thinking of asking his girlfriend to marry him. And he shared details of his recent trip to the former Soviet Union.

He described Red Square in such vivid detail that I could see colorful St. Basil's Cathedral. He also told me about waiting in line to visit Lenin's tomb. I learned Lenin’s body has been on display since his death in the 1920s. My uncle described the glass case the body was in, the lighting, and how Lenin's body seemed to glow like it was gilded.

He painted such vivid pictures of these far-away lands that - even as a young child - I knew I wanted to travel. I needed to travel. To see things. To live life.

Almost 30 years later, this same uncle made a passing comment in an email that he doesn't share his stories because nobody listens and nobody cares. I had to respond and tell him how his stories inspired me. He doesn't remember our early morning conversation but he was impressed with all the details I could recall - including the name of that long-ago girlfriend.

What I've learned from this is that we should all tell our tales and share our stories. You never know who is listening and how it might change their life.

prompt: Soviet

How Travel Taught Me to Relax

As a child and teenager, I traveled frequently with my family. We were poor so these trips were mostly camping. We hooked our pop-up camper up to the car and off we went.
As a young adult, travel was out of the question. Instead of going to college after high school, I moved across the state, bought a duplex, became a landlord, met a man who didn’t work and married him. All these responsibilities before I was old enough to drink!

We were very poor. By poor, I mean poverty that most people cannot imagine. Poor people don’t own cars. I had to save to buy a pair of blue jeans that didn't dome from Goodwill.  When both of the hot water heaters in our duplex failed within two days, we could only afford to replace one and we knew the tenants would not pay their rent if we didn't provide them with hot water. We needed their rent to pay the mortgage and replace the other water heater so we went without hot water for nearly a month.
This life was glamorous so we decided it was a great idea to have a child. No, it wasn't an accident. We actually planned this! What were we thinking?
Pregnancy complications put me on bed rest at 26 weeks. I went from two jobs that barely paid our bills to short term disability income from my employer. $116 per week. I will remember that amount for the rest of my life because I was so grateful for the help. That $116 provided heat and groceries but nothing else.
Five and one half months later I returned to my two jobs, being a landlord, and having a mortgage that was now 5 months behind. I also owed my employer because they paid my portion of my health insurance premiums while I was on disability. Add motherhood to my life. I’m now responsible for this tiny little person and I’m in charge of keeping her alive.
There is only one way to survive and escape extreme poverty. Extreme planning.
I planned everything. Menus were based on the weekly sale flyers. And I loved when whole chickens were on sale. Roasted one day. Leftovers in chicken salad the next. And those bones? Most people would just throw those out but there was no waste at my house. Those bones became chicken soup on day three.
Our budget was projected out for a couple years. I spent hours with my 3-ring binder. Page one listed all the bills and how much I was paying that month. Page two was the next month. It listed the new balance and what I planned to pay that month. These pages went on for about three years. 
You're familiar with Murphy's Law, right? Anytime Murphy came to visit and throw a monkey wrench in my budget, I tore out the following months and started over. Many months I was only able to pay $1 on past due balances. That was it. It was all I had but everyone got something. My first priorities were my mortgage and repaying my employer. Both of those were caught up within seven months of returning to work.
I also planned my day to the minute. Get up at this time. This many minutes to get ready. This many to bike to work. Work until this time. Bike ride to my second job takes exactly this long. Yes, bike. Even public transportation was a strain on our budget.
Unless you’ve lived like this, it's hard to imagine the stress.
I used the planning skills I developed to plan a way out. I found a job in which the hours worked for me to go back to school. Even better, it offered tuition reimbursement! It took me five years to earn that two year degree. And money was even tighter because I had to give up my second job.
Once school was over, I was able to get a better job. The next step was cutting the dead weight. I know. I know. I shouldn’t refer to my daughter’s father like that but she didn’t hear me so it’s ok, right? Without sharing the ugly details, I filed for divorce and moved out of my duplex.
This was terrifying. I knew from experience I could fall behind on my mortgage and not get kicked out. I could dodge the collection calls while reworking my cash flow in my ring binder. As a landlord, I knew this would not be tolerated from a tenant.
Before I signed the lease, I made sure I knew the electric costs the last tenant paid. I set a goal to cut that by 1/3. Electricity vampires like the TV and microwave were plugged into power strips that were only on when that appliance was in use. My daughter – still alive and now 12 – developed a wasteful habit of falling asleep with her lamp on. You know I put that on a timer!
Laundry was hung to dry. No need to waste money on something the sun and air would do for free. I also put night lights in the bathroom because you don't really need the overhead light to find the toilet. It’s not like it moves. And it’s relaxing to shower by night light. Pro tip: a white shower curtain is better for this than a plum colored one. Trust me.
I feared running out of groceries. My planner kicked in. I created a menu for an entire month that would feed us for about $60. It wasn’t the most healthy menu but it was comforting to have the security. We never went hungry and we never used that menu.
Things got much better over the next year. Soon it was time for my daughter’s 8^th grade trip to Washington DC. I scrimped and saved and she hit up all of her family with fundraisers. My sister took her to Disney every other year and her grandfather took her wherever he was going so this was not the first time she traveled. But it was her first time without family and she loved it.
Fast forward a few more years. I had tucked away enough for us to take our first vacation for her 16^th birthday. I let her choose our destination and she thought I should see Washington DC.
I started planning. And planning. And planning. I set up an itinerary listing what we would do when. We could stay with my best gay, Rob, so we didn’t have to pay for a hotel room.
Rob picked us up at the airport. When we arrived at his condo, I showed him my itinerary. He looked it over carefully and threw it out! He said we would wing it. I knew we'd be fine with a local as our tour guide.
The next morning we got on the subway to start our adventure. Eventually, he surprised me by saying he was going to work. He instructed us to go three more stops then get off and explore.
Here I am in a strange city with no map, no plan, and an almost-16-year-old human I am still responsible for keeping alive.
I should have been terrified by this but I wasn’t. It was exhilarating. We had freedom! Sweet freedom. There was no place we needed to be and nothing we needed to do.
In our four days we saw the typical sights but we also experienced things that were not on my original list. We wandered through China Town,

ate at a very busy dive looking restaurant that turned out to be a local landmark,

and enjoyed burgers at 5 Guys Burgers and Fries before they moved to Wisconsin. We had so much fun that I made a vow that this is how I would always travel.
Now I pick a destination and we find things to do while we’re there. When I remarried, our honeymoon was like this. On our wedding day, family and friends kept asking where we were going. And they were all shocked when we responded that we had no idea.
When it was time to leave, we loaded our camping gear and picked a direction. We headed south. When we reached Kentucky, we decided to stay. We spent a week touring the area, learning about horse racing, visiting museums, and sampling bourbon from every distillery along the way.
There are drawbacks to this type of travel. In Nashville we wanted to see an art museum inside their reproduction of Greece’s Parthenon. Unfortunately, it was closed on Monday. So are most of the tourist locations on Madeline Island.
If we planned our trips, we would not have pulled off the main route to see the covered bridges in Madison County Iowa on our way back from a family wedding. Yes, THOSE bridges.

We would not have experienced the roaring sound of the ice volcanoes in Door County, Wisconsin a few years ago.

Or the Field of Dreams movie site when the hot air balloon festival we were planning to attend in nearby Galena, IL was cancelled due to rain.

Or this actual hole in the wall somewhere in South Dakota.

On a recent trip out west, we visited Devil’s Tower in Wyoming. When we realized we were 30 miles from Montana, we knew we had to go. It didn’t matter that there was no road. The construction company had a pilot car that led the way over…I’m not sure. A road bed? An old train track route? It didn’t matter. We made it to Montana, found a biker bar, and enjoyed a piece of pie. Just because we were close.

On our return trip to Wisconsin, we had dinner at this rest stop in Colorado for the same reason we had the pie in Montana. It was close.

This type of travel has caused my daughter to be fearless. She has traveled through some of the world’s busiest airports on her own – and many before she turned 18. She recently moved to New York with no job and no savings, but she had a few friends who would let her couch surf. She's 23 now and responsible for keeping herself alive and she’s making it work.
It has taught me how to relax and enjoy myself more. I still budget but I no longer panic when the electric bill is too high. OK. I confess. I still shower by night light. It is very relaxing. Try it.
I believe everyone should get in their car, pick a direction, and just go. You’ll be surprised what you learn about where you end up and what you learn about yourself in the process.
With that in mind, I’m going to leave you with this quote from Mark Twain.

prompt: travel