MY LIFE IS WONDERFULLY WEIRD

Or, Friday changed a lot of things

Hi, it’s Sunday, August 18th and I found out on Friday afternoon at 1:30 that I got a guest credential for the Democratic National Convention in Chicago.

When the Chairman of the DNC slides into your Twitter DM’s to tell you that he got you a guest credential, you don’t respond with, “Hey, thanks anyway, but I live in Portland and I can’t afford any of this and I have tons of anxiety about leaving my cats on such short notice.”

Instead, you scramble. You panic-book a hotel less than a mile from the convention center and it’s equivalent to your rent, yay! You ask a friend if they can spare some frequent flyer miles. You get your kid to agree to stay with your cats even though he’s an adult with his own place where he lives with his girlfriend. Then you try to pack a week’s worth of cool clothes into a carry-on because United charges FORTY FUCKING DOLLARS to check a bag.

There is no time to get my nails done or go shopping for cute pink clothes because all the women are wearing pink and white.

I am such a bad traveler. Why do I have too many toiletries? Why can’t I ever get enough hydration? Why is it so bright in this room at night? Why did I leave my couch and my cats? Why is the weed here in (name of city that isn’t Portland) not nearly as good as the weed at home?

But still. I AM GOING TO THE DNC. Have you seen the lineup of speakers? MICHELLE OBAMA just got added to Tuesday night. I am not okay in the best way.

I mean, Holy Democratic Baby Jesus, I get to be in the room where it all happens! I will manage like the 55-year-old alleged adult that I am. I’ll buy clothes there if I have to.

All of this would be exciting enough on its own, right? Except I happened to find out I was going about two hours before I walked out the door to see Foo Fighters for the first time in nine years.

I couldn’t think about Dave Grohl or what I was going to wear to the concert or anything else because I was in “FUUUUCK I GOTTA GET TO CHICAGO BY SUNDAY” mode. So when my friend Christine and I walked out my door, my poor brain was all over the place.

I did look pretty cute, though.

It was the first concert at Providence Park in 16 years and it was a big deal. We were in the pit, thanks to a generous benefactor of mine. We invoked the Short Girls Concert Rule, which boils down to, “Short girls can stand in the front because everyone can see over our heads.” We got very close, and then at the last minute, the guy in front of me switched places with me so I was right on the rail.

“I saw them three days ago,” he said warmly. Thank you, Nic!

My anxiety around this show was huge, mainly because I had a goal: I wanted to see if Dave would still recognize me after all this time and all this gray hair. And if he did, would he be happy to see me?

Reader, he did and he was!

@taradublinrocksHere’s #DaveGrohl happy to see me! I was honestly worried I wouldn’t get close enough to make eye contact but I made it all the way to the rail & he pointed at me and called out my name! I also got a little wave, lits of smiles, and he blew me a kiss at the end of the show I don’t love any other band the way I love @FooFighters 🖤 #FooFighters @Christine

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He called out my name! Fangirl Moment #1.

Later in the show, during “My Hero,” Christine captured this adorable moment when Dave gave me a look and a cute little wave.

@taradublinrocksMy friend @Christine captured this incredibly sweet moment when #DaveGrohl gave me a look and the cutest little wave 🖤🖤🖤 @Foo Fighters

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Fangirl Moment #2! I squeal like a teenager every time I see that wave.

Fangirl Moment #3 wasn’t captured on video because I was watching Foo Fighters take their final bows on the catwalk. I blew a kiss to Dave and he blew a kiss back to me. *swoon*

We didn’t get to talk or anything, which means I still have unanswered questions in my head, but they’re quieter now that I know he’ll always be happy to see me no matter what. I feel strongly that our paths will cross again, and hopefully it won’t be another nine years.

Lastly, it’s entirely possible that a very famous woman whose name rhymes with Lady Keurig has asked me to send her a copy of The Sound of Settling, so that’s cool. One boost from her would be life-changing, so let’s just see what happens there.

While I’m in Chicago (AAAAAAH!) please follow all my socials (@taradublinrocks1 on Threads & Insta, @taradublinrocks on TikTok & Twitter) and see the glory! I’ll do my best to maintain.

But AAAAAAH!!!! If you’d like to buy me a coffee or some deep dish while I’m in Chi, I’d really appreciate it because otherwise I’m going to have to live on vending machine snacks for the whole week.

Thank you, I love you! And we’re going to win, because we are.