On my seventeenth birthday, I began fearing my eighteenth. For those of you not from Australia (if you’re not from Australia please comment or send me a carrier pigeon or something to let me know because I find the thought of our little ol’ blog attracting fans from overseas mind-blowing), I should explain eighteen is the age in Australia when you are legally considered an adult.
While most young people can’t wait to be all grown up, I was close to having an emotional breakdown. I didn't want to grow up. I didn't want responsibility. I hated the idea of the adult world. Everyone kept asking me what I wanted to do with my life and I had to keep telling them that I had no freaking idea. Now it’s okay to say you have no idea when you’re little. That's fine. When you’re little and someone asks you want to be, no matter what you say, people are cool with it (with the exception of maybe “mummy when I grow up I want to be a prostitute”. Then maybe it’s time to book your child in for counselling). You say you don’t know what you want to be, nobody cares. You say you want to be a ballerina or a fire truck, and people just smile and laugh. When they ask you what you want to do when you’re nearly an adult, however, they expect you to be able to recite a five year plan. I can’t do that. I don’t know what I’m doing tomorrow, let alone in five years. 
"... and then once I finish my degree I'm going to move to another city, get a job, and rent a flat with my brother until I save enough money to look into buying a house of my own. What do you want to do, Aysha?"
"I want to be a Ninja turtle! Or a pony!"
"Okay.. But what about.."
"PONY!"
But now that I am an “adult” I’ve come to realise it’s not so bad. You can actually do pretty cool things when you're a grown up. Yes, there are responsibilities and whatnot, but I think in the end they are worth it.
One of my favourite things I can do as an adult is that I can do my own shopping and decide what I want to buy all by myself. My Mum is a bit of an Organic fan. When I say that, I don’t just mean our food is Organic. I grew up with Organic Toothpaste that tasted like Molasses and Dirt. While all the other kids in the playground were eating peanut butter, I got almond paste.
Although I still live with my mum, now that I’m all grown up I can get what I want. I was so genuinely excited when I bought Cocoa Pops, I ended up telling the person at the checkout all about how much I couldn't wait till tomorrow morning to eat them. I brush my teeth with proper toothpaste which I hide in the bathroom drawer. I eat peanut butter with Hundreds and Thousands. Yep, I’m living the life.
"Just like a chocolate milkshake, only I can have it for breakfast! Then I'm going to brush my teeth with colgate!"
Apart from giving myself more cavities, not much has changed for me since becoming an adult. I still watch children’s programs. I spend evenings building blanket forts and watching Disney movies on video in them with all my soft toy companions. If anything, being a grown up allows me more time to do all the things I loved doing as a kid. I don’t have to worry about my mum calling my friend’s mum to organise one Saturday when we can hang out for a couple of hours. I do all the childish things I love except now I can do them without adult supervision. And I think that's pretty cool.
As for what I want to do with my life: I still don’t know. And I think that’s okay. I guess my five year plan is just to do what I enjoy doing. Writing songs, stories and plays, reading, dancing, singing, being a theatre nerd, and watching children’s programs. And of course, writing posts for this blog. I enjoy that. I just hope that you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. Although if you don’t enjoy it, you probably stopped reading a while back.
PS: When I wrote Hundreds and Thousands for the first time I accidently misspelt it and the result of that misspelling inspired this pun:
What do dogs like to decorate cupcakes with? Houndreds and Thousands.
Do you like it? I made it all by myself!
PPS: As I was falling asleep I thought of another pun about my friend Tim. What do you call a blemish on Tim? A Timperfection!
I think I’m funny.
