Tyneesha.com

Sit down, kid. Listen up.

In this life, there are certain questions to which we may never know the definitive answer.

Is there life after death? Where do butterflies go at night? Do we have free will? Did Taylor Swift and Harry Styles commit vehicular manslaughter together? Why do we ignore the fact that dragonflies are literally aliens? How do earphones tangle themselves up in your pocket? I know you are, but what am I? Is your red actually my blue?

These are all equally important questions, and some are more answerable than others, but we must pick our battles. So, today, let's talk about colours!

Colour, to me, is the single most expressive stimuli available to the human mind. If you look at my Instagram, it's not hard to tell that I pay a lot of attention to colour and its many purposes when taking and editing photos.

At some point in my early adolescence, I got Connor Franta's autobiography 'Work In Progress', as a present. I'd been asking for it for a while because, at the time, he was one of my favourite YouTubers (before TikTok was a thing, we watched YouTubers). He still is, to clarify.

Anyway, there's a passage where he describes the things that he looks for when hunting for a photo. He talks about patterns, textures, angles, contrasts and colour. Connor Franta, nowadays, has become probably my most significant inspiration photography-wise. Still, at that point, I hadn't given it much thought.

Of course, some photos are better off in black and white... but even then, the absence of colour facilitates the photo's story. It probably emphasises the patterns or reinforces the mood which inspired the image in the first place. I could make very meticulous playlists based on different colours. I could tell you that a particular song/movie/person and so on embodies any given colour.

The association between colour and mood is significant and very strong in my mind. I know this isn't the case for everyone, but you've been taught that specific colours represent certain things to some extent. And we assume that everyone has this base-level understanding. But do we?

Is the colour that I see the same as the colour that you see? It's a question as old as time. I've had many-a-conversation on the topic, with no definitive conclusion ever being reached. However, for those who haven't had the pleasure of contemplating the idea, today is your lucky day.

If I asked you what colour a strawberry is - you'd most likely tell me 'red', right? And if I asked you what colour the sky is, you'd probably tell me 'blue'. Firstly, you'd be incorrect. Colour isn't real. Our minds make it up.

You perceive light with your eyes, that information goes to your brain, and your brain decides what colour the refraction of light is. Our minds process things in different ways, according to our personal background and experiences. Not to mention, the number and shape of photoreceptors in the human eye vary quite a bit.

We experience taste, scent and sound in different ways, so it's not unfathomable that the same can be said of colour. The difference is that there's no real way to measure this, and if there were, it probably wouldn't be worth the money involved to create the experiment.

That said, we aren't entirely different organisms. We have all the same parts and systems, so it's unlikely that my red is your blue and more likely that my royal blue is your light blue.

Of course, there are a few clear pieces of evidence that we definitely see colour differently. For example, some people are colour blind, and your grandfather will probably look at something that's violet and swear on his life that it's pink.

Regardless, we may never know for sure because so far, our only method of understanding eachother is through language. Suppose you read the epilogue of 1984, or just about any essay by George Orwell. In that case, you know that language directly correlates with the production of ideas. Limit

Greetings! As I’m sure the title indicates, I recently turned 20 years old. Which means that I have had the absolute pleasure of existing for two whole decades.

This means that I’ve lived long enough to survive the early 2000’s low rise jean trend and 2010 skinny jeans. And then the 2016 return of mom jeans, the 2019 resurgence of bell-bottom jeans, and indeed, the growing cluster of low rise jeans re-gaining popularity.

In no particular order, I also happened to survive Trump’s presidency, a global pandemic, a somewhat questionable childhood, catholic high school, jumping out of a plane and getting hit by a truck. Oh, and 5 gruelling years of customer service.

In this time, I have learnt a thing or two... or 20, to be precise. 20 lessons were learnt. Storage ran out shortly afterwards, but luckily I’ve assembled all of my knowledge into this handy little document.

This post has been sitting in my drafts since I was 18, but I hadn’t gotten the blog back up and going yet, so the last two points were added when I turned 19 and 20. Apologies in advance if some of the cultural references are outdated now. Trump is out of office and banned from Twitter, TikTok exists, and COVID happened. But I’m not rewriting too much in the name of youth and authenticity.

So, without further ado... I present 20 things I’ve learned in 20 years.

What other people think of you is none of your business.

People are allowed to not like you. Most of the time, it actually has very little to do with you. Don’t take it personally, because it’s not.

Announce it when you feel embarrassed or awkward.

So, I used to blush a lot. I probably still do, but it doesn’t particularly bother me anymore. It was a bit worse when I was a little 14-year-old in the early years of high school who was ashamed of her wonky teeth and general inelegance. I’d go red, and then I’d be embarrassed about it, which would make me blush harder.

And then one fine day in year 8 geography, I was talking to my friend about it. She looked up solutions, and Wikihow said, “call attention to the awkwardness”.

So that’s what I did. And it works. It works in so many situations.

So many of the awkward situations we find ourselves in are such everyday things that we’ve just been taught we should be ashamed of. If you point out the uncomfortable thing and laugh it off, people nearly always laugh along with you. You mispronounce a word or trip over your own feet, you have a laugh, make a friend, and sometimes get a good story out of it! It’s the best way to relate to people because every one of us has made mistakes or been embarrassed about something small.

Unless someone just spat while they were talking, don’t point that out... they know. You know. The government knows. Just leave it alone.

Take control of the information you take in.

Say what you will about how technology is making us less communicative. Sure, feel free to tell me AGAIN how social media is making all the kids depressed, and video games are making them violent. I get it; the first world took a huge turn with the rise of technology. Shocker.

But I love technology. I love the internet. I love social media. I think the things it allows us to achieve every day are incredible. Obviously, though, not everyone feels that way.

Maybe you’re being cyber-bullied. Perhaps the models on Instagram make you hate your body. Maybe that one person’s Facebook statuses really do ruin your day. Maybe Tyneesha keeps trying to get you to read her blog, and sure, perhaps it keeps you up at night.

But here’s the thing, right... if someone you don’t want to talk to keeps messaging you, block them. If someone’s posts upset you, unfollow them. If you can’t stop comparing yourself to the girls on Instagram, unfollow them too. If watching the news in the morning makes you depressed, don’t watch it.

Deliberate, tactical, protective and purposeful ignorance truly is bliss. Especiall

Procrastination...the name given to the half-hour I just spent on Twitter while this empty page sat in front of me. We all do it sometimes. I do it A LOT. I'll procrastinate by doing just about anything except what I need to do. I'll sleep, eat, go on my phone, talk to people, stare into space...I'll even procrastinate my work by doing other, less important work. I'll write a completely useless intro instead of getting into the actual content. Procrastination is often mistaken as avoidance of work - it's not. It's just displacement of work.

I could be the least qualified person to write this article, BUT I will say that despite my procrastinating, I do get things done, eventually. So without further unnecessary pondering, here are four reasons you procrastinate and four ways to stop it.

You have a crippling fear of failure.

This is extremely common for our generation. Living in today's capitalist social-media-driven society means that we are faced with witnessing the success of our peers as a finished product. We don't see the work that goes into their accomplishments. So when we aren't automatically and magically good at something, many of us fall into the trap of non-attempt.

How to stop

Remember that failure is yours to define. Don't compare yourself and your work to other people and theirs. Someone else should not be your example of success. Remember that failure does not need to be feared. 98% of the time, nothing horrific will happen if you fall short of your expectations. Plus, if you don't try, you will fail. If you try, you might succeed, and if you do fail, you'll learn what's not working for you, and you get a little closer to success.

You're a perfectionist.

This sounds counterintuitive. You'd think that someone focused on doing something perfectly would put time and detail into their work, but not necessarily. Similar to a fear of failure, perfectionists will not settle for anything less than excellence, and for some tasks, this isn't necessary or worth the effort. The goal of absolute perfection is too daunting of a goal when in many cases, completion is far more important than perfection.

How to stop

Practice self-compassion. Congratulate yourself for your little achievements, and don't get too bogged down in the details. If you're paying attention to detail because you're passionate about the project, that's great. If you're agonising over tiny insignificant problems out of self-criticism and ego, that's going to cause so many more issues than handing in an imperfect assignment.

You have poor time management skills.

We all think that we can do things faster than we can, so we leave something to the last minute, convincing ourselves that we work better under pressure. This whole issue is exasperated when you have multiple tasks to complete. You do not work better under pressure; you just work faster. Keep in mind that I'm writing this post the day before it's supposed to go up. I'm sure that this post would be of better quality had I started earlier.

How to stop

Make time each day, week, and month to look at what you have to do and when the deadline is to have them done. Keep a list or calendar, and do what you can in small chunks—doing writing assignments are so much less intimidating if you take the time to plan. I loved when teachers gave me scaffolds to follow, it took the "how do I get started" dilemma out of the experience, and I could focus on just getting each thing done. I find that if I start with a list of ideas or dot points, I can arrange them into paragraphs or some other structure reasonably quickly. Later, when the due date creeps up, I go back to a skeleton of an article and elaborate. It's much more palatable that way.

You get distracted

Sometimes there's no deep self-worth issue at hand. Occasionally, we just get distracted. We are forgetful, or we want to put things off in favour of something else. Uni students often end up doing things last minut

Ah, social media... the enormous invisible, ever available art gallery, comedy show, encyclopedia and horror film at our fingertips. Our friend. Our teacher. Our god. Our worst enemy and biggest ally.

It's not news to anyone that we live in a time wherein the rise of social media facilitates the fact that, at least in the first world, anybody can post any statement they like. It is then subject to the possible scrutiny of the rest of the online world. Millions of people have their say on whether tomato sauce belongs in the fridge or pantry. Honestly, it's incredible.

However, SOME people (mostly the boomers) are angry because "you can't have an opinion without offending SOMEONE".

Here's the thing right; they're not wrong.

But it's always been that way. It's just that the age of social media means that people are way more likely to come across opinions that differ from their own. Generally, people are shocked and offended when they're faced with the realisation that not everyone feels the same as they do. Not everyone is on their side. In this way, everything you say has the potential to offend someone.

It's just that now when you scream something rude or discriminatory or offensive into the void, you are faced with the response to it. Sometimes that response is bigger than the one you'd get in person.

Your' right to voice your opinion' doesn't take precedence over your responsibility to care for other human beings.

20 to 30 years ago, the only opinions you heard were the ones of your peers and family in your community which probably aligned very closely to yours. The internet means that people can access and assert opinions that exist outside of their personal experience. When handled and engaged with, it can be confronting, but it can also create change and growth.

Learning to let go of the idea that your experience and opinion is the most correct answer can be incredibly freeing. There's no shame in admitting you're wrong, and there's always benefit in engaging in conversation under the assumption that you are wrong and that this person knows something you don't. But if you are sitting there getting offended because people are offended, you're wasting your time. You're a part of the group you're complaining about.

Putting arguments down to "everyone's so offended these days" is retaliation for not feeling heard or validated in your opinion, and in turn, invalidating the other person's argument by belittling what may be an excellent point instead of engaging with it.

That said, there is a difference between telling it how it is and just being a dick. Although you are under no obligation to be 'nice' in the sense that you don't have to be unproblematic, passive or quiet. You are allowed to take up space and voice your opinion, just consider doing so in a way that doesn't attack and limit someone else's growth. Create empathy and grow from there. After all, why voice your opinion publically if it'll cause more harm than good?

You clearly care about something. But is it the issue or the argument?

Stick up for others, stand up for yourself, sure. It's okay to be angry. It can be productive, but understand it probably won't create real, permanent change on its own. Anger makes a great jumping-off point for social change, but it only holds where there is education, empathy and forgiveness alongside it.

"you can't have an opinion without offending SOMEONE"

I think the most significant role model media-wise I've had is Chelsea Handler. For the simple fact that she's not afraid to take up space and speak her mind, but she's also so insistent in learning about other people's experience of life. She recognises her privilege (and, more importantly, ADDRESSES it no matter how uncomfortable), actively develops empathy and admits mistakes shamelessly for the sake of growth.

Nothing is black and white. No one is entirely right or wrong because humans decided what was right and wrong. It's not eve

Fun fact: I am left-handed.

As I’m sure we are all aware, left-handed people faced much adversity and danger in the past. We make up only about 12% of the population - probably because they killed off the leftie ancestors in the Salem Witch Trials. Many cultures deemed us demonic and unnatural. I am here to confirm. Yes, all left-handers are possessed. But you should be too. I just think it’s a better life. Sure, you might get the cane sometimes, and every time you write in front of a new friend, they’re going to be like, “OMG YOU’RE LEFT HANDED???” - but it’s all part of the fun.

The best part is - lefties are on the rise as discrimination lessens. They think left-handedness is somewhat genetic, but environment plays into the phenomenon quite a bit. You could have been born left-handed and taught by your parents that it was correct to write with your right hand. With my complete lack of scientific evidence in mind - I don’t see why you cannot start writing with your left hand and gain all of the following traits right away.

More prone to insomnia & alcoholism 

This may seem like a repellant to the left-handed cause. Our brains take longer to shut off and tend to have more addictive behaviours - but hear me out. We’ll never be the first person to say “let’s go home” on a night out.

We tend to reach puberty 4-5 months later than right-handed peers

I don’t know if I can confirm this one, because all my friends growing up were like a year ahead of me, but if it’s true - that’s 4-5 extra months of childhood. That’s five fewer periods, five fewer pimply months; it sounds like a win to me.

More likely to be male

Strangely, I can think of one other woman I know who is left-handed. I must have lost out - but indeed, being a male is just a little easier than being a female, so congrats to those guys.

On average, we die 9 years sooner than right-handed people

In this economy, nine fewer years will save your family a lot of debt, and your early demise will be better for the environment.

We are better at multitasking

I want to confirm this, but in fact, I am not better at multitasking than anyone else - it’s just that I HAVE to do multiple things at once or nothing at all.

39% more likely to be LGBTQ

You may be thinking, “Tyneesha… why is this a good thing? Homosexual people face a lot of intolerance and danger even to this day.” and my answer to that is simple. 39% more likely to be queer means 39% more likely to be a lousy driver, reducing carbon emissions and creating safer roads.

We adjust to seeing underwater faster

Meaning when we inevitably move to a different planet completely covered in an ocean and need to return to our fish instincts to survive, left-handers will come out on top.

We are better typists

Something like 3000 words can be typed using the left hand only on a QWERTY keyboard, whereas about 300 are typed with the right hand (if you type correctly, of course). I can confirm this because, when I get going, I do be typing fast and accurate; I just always credited it to piano lessons.

We are more likely to be at either end of the intelligence scale - super dumb or super smart

I can’t entirely agree with this one. I’ve never met a particularly smart left-handed person. Like at best, we’re brilliant in one way but have a general aura of cluelessness. But I’m sure they exist somewhere.

We are more creative

I left this one to the end because it’s the one everyone knows and expected to see first. I’m creative like that because I’m left-handed.

“Start writing with your left hand today,”

Cringe culture, loosely defined (by a combination of myself and urban dictionary) - is the emergent trend of the last 10 years or so where social media users ridicule, judge, or belittle others, usually for doing something completely harmless - by labelling them and/or their interest ‘cringe’.

I think the most common form of this I’ve observed is the term ‘basic’ used as an insult. When there’s a group of interests and characteristics that are common or well-liked by a bunch of people, that constitutes as ‘basic’ at a certain level of popularity. At this point, it starts to lose popularity. A nondescript amount of time passes, and the "cringe" thing re-gains popularity. It goes through this cycle over and over. The latest example I can think of is wearing skinny jeans. They'll be back the same way mom jeans came back.

For the last few years, I’ve pumped the gas on the sentence “let people enjoy things!”, which I truly try to stand by, but alas - the occasional unshared interest will pop up in my feed, and I’ll catch myself judging a random stranger for what they choose to post.

However - having been cooped up in those oh-so-interesting quarantined times last year led me to an observation: people got significantly more cringy online. I’m willing to bet that it’s the result of people only being able to connect via social media that caused them to be more authentic in a time where they had no other options.

A number of people I know started listening to music they liked when they were younger and gawky - including me. How many people do you know who re-entered their 1D, 5SOS, Taylor Swift or emo phases? A few, right? My most listened to artist on Spotify last year was Taylor Swift, who dethroned Frank Ocean’s 3-year reign, and I wish I could say it was because of the new albums - but it wasn't. It was me listening to the Speak Now album every week in March-May.

I'm going to go right ahead and say that the reason for this is psychological regression - in times of heightened anxiety and danger, people momentarily regress to a time where they felt free from this threat. I think it's safe to say the pandemic was a pretty significant threat, and that most of us felt safer when 1D were together and Taylor Swift was a country artist.

But in a way, it's nice. We've become more open about ourselves and more accepting of others online, and probably offline too. We've started to actively aim for authenticity online (hence the rise of the "casual instagram" feed). Global crises surely have a way of reminding people what's important and what's not. For a lot of people I'm sure the pandemic forced them to be truly alone with themselves for the first time, which is a really important experience in terms of self-worth. Sure, we didn't get to go to Europe and "find ourselves", but it's something.

On the whole, young people dealt with the pandemic reasonably well in terms of mental health WHILE it was happening, but I've seen a few reports saying that the real strain young people are facing is the readjusting back to "life as normal". People are hesitant to travel, go out, be in crowded areas, etc... The pandemic taught us not to take our small freedoms for granted, but it also created alot of uncertainty around things that seemed entirely achievable beforehand.

With all that in mind, I think it's more important than ever to be kind to people, don't put them down for what makes them happy. Obviously, do no harm but take no shit, but after a year of staying home and putting your own wishes on hold for the good of society, I'm sure it takes enormous courage to start pursuing what you want for yourself again. Take the acceptance and growth you developed online last year out into the real world as restrictions ease.

“Don't pick on girls for posting photos of the sunset,”

What movies shows/movies did you watch over and over as a kid? Or even as an adult? Why? Was it the plotline? Was it the music? Was it a favourite character? 

Odds are if you have obsessively shovelled down media and used it to cope with daily life the way that I (and most of our generation) have, you have a handful of characters (from TV, film, books...) who you completely adore. You watch your shows, and you think ah, yes. We would be good friends, me and this fictional character. Best buds.

As you're about to see, I have assembled a list of my most beloved comfort characters. I was going to rank them based on something valid and well-thought-out, but I've since changed my mind, and thus, no logic will be involved. They will be ranked according to their Zodiac Sign, their Myers Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI) and ultimately, my overbearing judgement of those things.

For reference, I know very little about astrology, and I know even less about MBTI. That, however, will not stop me from judging people (fictional or otherwise) based on their placements. After all, I am a Taurus sun with a Virgo moon. Judging is a way of life.

I will give you a quick run-down about my own placements, so that you understand my frame of reference.

Zodiac: I am a Taurus sun. And before my astrology friends yell at me, yes, I know that my sun sign isn't my entire chart, but it's the easiest to use while I write this wildly biased article. Stubborn, judgemental, greedy, materialistic, comfort-loving, loyal, ruled by Venus (so beauty/aesthetic-focused), hot-tempered.

MBTI:

For anyone that doesn't know, MBTI is basically a psychological quiz that categorises you into a particular personality group depending on how you think of yourself and the world around you. You wind up with a combination of 4 letters determined from which categories you majoritively fall in out of introversion or extraversion, sensing or intuition, thinking or feeling, judging or perceiving.

I am ENFP (extroversion, intuition, feeling, perception). ENFP's are encouraging, aspiring, creative, imaginative, very focused on human connection, very supportive. The encouraging artist friend with questionable mental health.

E.g. Anna from Frozen, Charles Dickens, Walt Disney, John Mulaney, Robin Williams, Sabrina Spellman, John Lennon, Dory, Jess from New Girl, The eleventh doctor, Fidel Castro, Che Guevara, Louis Tomlinson, Salvador Dali, Oscar Wilde, Troy from Community, Lily Singh, Alice Cullen, Mac Miller, Dave Ghrol, hank green, Piper Chapman, Stevie Nicks, Phoebe Bridgers, Liza Koshy, Austin Powers, Patrick from Perks of Being a Wallflower...the list goes on.

She loves nature. She has too many hobbies. She's over-sensitive, excitable, obsessed with her freedom but craves comfort, stubbornly naive, and overall, a delight. 10/10 would jump out of a tall castle to run around in the grass with her.

Some sites said Taurus, some said Aries, but if we're honest, both have anger issues, fierce loyalty, and act tough even though everyone knows they're sensitive as all hell, so who cares same difference. She is the same MBTI as i am, which was surprising, actually.

James is one of those characters I related to as a kid, but as an adult, I see my inner child reflected in him, and I just kind of want to adopt him. According to a Tumblr post, he's a Taurus. I don't see it, but I'll accept it. His MBTI is vastly different from mine, but I'd do anything for that kid. King of taking bugs outside instead of killing them.

I’m not surprised she’s a Taurus, the quiet confidence, connection with nature, stubborn love of comfort. There’s definitely some dominant Pisces in there, too, though, to account for the daydreaming. She’s not the same MBTI as me, but the mad hatter is, which seems fair.

She's obviously a fire sign, duh. Obviously, an Aries as well, confident, powerful, good planner, pretty...I'm not even mad that we don't match. Why change what's perfect. ENFJs are suppose

Ahem. Once upon a time, I was dragged down the M7 on the nose of a 57.5-tonne truck. And, not to be dramatic, but what exactly is the point of enduring trauma if not to joke about it on the internet?

This happened a few weeks ago, and I’ve only just gotten around to writing about it, so as a disclaimer, I’m not sure my memory serves completely accurately. I’m also not sure it matters because really I’m the only person who could confirm or deny; thus, my truth is automatically THE truth as we know it. There will likely be a part two, recording the aftermath. But for now, here’s this.

Imagine: You wake up; it’s 5 am on Thursday the 18th of February 2021. You have to be at work at 6. Work is a fine time, good even. You don’t mind doing the early shifts when you’ve got the rest of the day to yourself, and it gives you a reason to get your sleepy ass out of bed in the morning. You’re headed 6 hours North-West from Wollongong to Dubbo because it’s your Dad’s birthday tomorrow, and you’re a good child despite your questionable (but vastly improved) driving skills.

You packed a bag last night to throw in your car this morning, so you don’t have to bother heading home before getting on the road. You’ve made a mental list of a few small things you need to get done before you get going, though. Get fuel. Pick out a sugary drink and a snack to keep energy for the long drive. Download your favourite playlist to avoid the dreadful out-of-signal silence. Go to Supercheap Auto to buy that whopping $70 phone holder so you can safely navigate the trip. Head to Oak Flats momentarily to change out of your work uniform and get Bob to put the phone holder in.

Bob makes quick work of the phone holder, and you change into a t-shirt with a vaguely ironic joke concerning existentialism, not out of intuition but out of concern for comfort. Spoiler alert, it won’t be a comfortable drive for long anyway. You hug Bob and head off.

Predicably, it’s busy as Kmart on Christmas eve coming through Albion Park, but you’re not in a terrible hurry, so it’s tolerable. Although, you’re joyous once you get out from between rows of cars and back on the free space of the highway.

You make your way out of Wollongong, gradually forfeiting your slight fear of changing lanes to overtake. You’ve always been an anxious driver, you took your sweet time getting your license, but you somehow made it to your green Ps without ever having so much as dented a car. Moving home last year and finally buying your first car did, however, do wonders for your vehicular confidence.

You got significantly less anxious from driving by yourself in a town you know your way around. Much to your surprise, at this point, you actually quite enjoy driving, and you’re coming to understand why white men love their cars so much that they use them as profile pictures—nowhere near enough to do it, though.

There’s a big red button in the centre of your dash, which you’ve been dying to have a reason to press.

While you’re driving, you recall a few months ago when you hit a galah while driving after being assured that it would move out of the way. You let the thought pass after a few moments of reflection and concern for the possibility of hitting another precious bird. After all, it’s a small car; carting the 80-tonne heart of a guilty galah murderer doesn’t seem fuel-efficient.

You resign the thought from your mind. You’re coming into a high-traffic situation with the M7, but you’re not to0 stressed. You’ve been doing so well driving today, but you’re aware that you’re more tired than you feel, so you tell yourself you just have to make it to Blaxland Maccas. Then you can stop, take a break, have some legitimate food (if, of course, you count chicken nuggets as proper nutrition, which I do

When I was in year 10, (I think) I remember my science teacher told us that his father told him as a child that lights work by sucking up all the darkness in the room. Anyone who remembers this story being told, feel free to correct me. Still, from memory, He said he believed this lie until his first year of university – when he finally voiced this misconception and was pulled into line by his peers.

The realisation that his father had lied to him about how various aspects of the universe work, he told us, was the deciding factor in his career shift. He wound up with a PHD working as an astrophysicist, who then ‘got bored’ and decided to go into teaching. I think about that story almost every day.

I too believed many ridiculous things through my childhood. However, I find they are amusing tidbits to share, and thus, I present; things I believed as a kid that turned out to be lies.

Assuming every cartoon character was female

I clearly had a very loose grasp on gender presentation as a child- because, despite the obvious signs that certain cartoon characters were male, I continually assumed that they were female.

The most notable of these is Charlie from Charlie and Lola…I can’t tell you how many heated discussions I engaged in with my Sister to find out I was, in fact, wrong.

While it would have made sense for me to think “Lola (she/her) wears dresses and hairclips and Charlie (he/him) wears pants and has a male best friend” –  my little brain said no! Charlie is a non-gendered name, and from my scope of knowledge about the name ‘Charlie’ Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and Charlie from Hi-5, THIS Charlie was blonde, and so was Hi5 Charlie. Having an older sister who generally rejected anything feminine also probably contributed.

I also thought Bambi, Tails from Sonic, Piglet from Tigger, and Tweety Bird were girls. I found the latter false in year 6 – after someone pointed out that there was a female love interest for Tweety bird.

You can’t cross double white line

I thought that you weren’t allowed to WALK over double white lines when crossing the road. I did absorb the few road rules as a child, “not crossing double white lines” did seem of the utmost importance. Zebra crossings were only allowed if you made sure to only step on the black parts.

The stormwater drain will kill me

I feel like we all experienced this, but I was irrationally scared that I’d somehow fall through the openings in water drainage things. Or the lid would fall if I stepped on it. I wasn’t worried about getting stuck down there or hurting myself, and my brain had not yet developed rational consequential thought processes, I just thought “step = die”.

You have to wash your hair twice

I remember distinctly the first time I was made to wash my own hair and was shocked to learn that shampoo and conditioner are separate things and my caretakers were not, in fact just putting the same magic substance in my hair twice.

What is a tonsil?

As recent as august last year, I thought that the dangly thing in your throat was your tonsils and people who got tonsillitis had that removed. I’m fairly certain that I gained this misunderstanding from a movie that used the term “tonsil tennis” to reference kissing.

The escalator will eat you

I thought that the escalator at the mall was going to eat me. If I wasn’t standing in the right place, I thought the electronic stairs would fold down on the way up, and my feet would get stuck underneath, and if I didn’t jump off at the end, my feet would get sucked into the belt. Honestly, I think that’s valid, and I’m still cautious.

The light in the car is illegal

I think we were all duped by this one, actually. All of our parents had a collective meeting and decided to tell us that we couldn’t turn the light on in the car. Otherwise, the police wou

I have a faint memory of Healthy Harold telling me not to share personal details on the internet. But as it turns out, Harold is not just a fake giraffe, but a fake friend who didn’t want me to have fun in my youth. With that out of the way, I moved back to Wollongong recently.

I wound up moving home to Dubbo halfway through last year, which would have been my first year out of home, but Coronavirus did what it does and changed everything. A worldwide health crisis was not on the original agenda for 2020, but it wasn’t the be all end all either.

Although annoying, going home meant I was able to buy a car, finish re-vamping this blog and spend some more time with family and friends. Plus, it’s WAY easier to find stories for journalism assignments, and write them well, when the interviewees are people I know personally and have been inspired by for years.

I’m in quite a different place intellectually, emotionally and financially than when I moved last year. Whether that be because I moved back home or just because moving isn’t some big scary first-time event, I don’t know. But it’s going well. I’m keeping my room clean, making friends, learning to use a slow cooker and developing a mental compass, so I don’t have to navigate everwhere.

It’s been cold the whole time I’ve been here so far, but I can’t complain too much, it’s still Wollongong. I’ve done a little bit of exploring, I’ve finally met some of my classmates in person after months of lovely, supportive Twitter interactions. 

I got the opportunity to create an ad to be put in a magazine which comes out soon, I’m working on possibly doing some paid photography this year, and hopefully, this blog and uni go well. Moreover, I hope COVID kindly disappears, and I can have regular concerts and festivals and travel back. I miss jumping up and down trying not to die in a crowd to the point I don’t remember what it feels like, so my first show after all this will feel like the first one ever.

Yesterday I got the conch piercing I’ve wanted for a while. It hurts like all hell, and I have to sleep on the other side of my head, but in 6 months I’ll be able to put a pretty ring in it and look like a little fairy, which I think we can all agree is a reasonable goal to have. I got my first tattoo about a month ago too. If 2020 taught us anything, it’s not to take things for granted or come up with excuses to put things off, cause you might not have the freedom tomorrow that you have today. 

“Second time’s a charm?”