My first high school party, thrown by none other than me. I didn’t plan for it to be a party, but one thing led to another and, suddenly, my house was full of people, half of whom I had never met before. Sounds like one of those teen movies where someone invites five people over, or lets their boyfriend or girlfriend have a few friends over, and then there are suddenly five hundred people trashing their house at 3 A.M, right? Well, at least that’s what it felt like to me, most likely because I finally understood the panic and fear of the host.
It all started with two of my (single) friends asking me to have a few people over for Valentines Day. No harm there, right? We could just chill and have an excuse not to go to my school’s horrific “V-Day Dance”. At least, that’s what they told me would happen. I’d never gone to a high school get-together before, and had definitely never gone to one at a public school. I should’ve guessed that Catholic middle school parties with less than twenty people per grade would be slightly different. I finally consented, and after they asked, I told them “Sure, you can invite a few other people! Just remember my parents will be home, so there can’t be too many.” I also asked if everyone they invited could inform me so I would know who would be there.
Don’t ask me how, but just a few days later, there were people talking about my “party” in class, and an advertisement for it online, for all the world to see. Trying to avoid a panic attack, I told myself no one will come, especially since they don’t know you and you just transferred to their school three months ago.
Let’s say I was wrong. It’s the night of the party, 7:00 rolls around and there are only five people at my house. Thank God, right? I had a small panic attack for nothing. Then, people start showing up in what seemed like hordes, to me at least. They all walked in, hugged me even though I had never met them before in my life, and proceeded to disseminate throughout my house and its outside. I told myself to stay cool, what’s the worst that can happen? My parents are home; no one will do anything bad or stupid with them here.
One of the most hectic nights of my life ensued. There were two snow ball fights in my kitchen, people trying to sneak into an abandoned house down the road, girls acting like strippers in the street, and people snooping through my closet and basement (without an invitation to). Although there was about a foot-and-a-half of snow on the ground and ice covering every walk-able area, there were people climbing trees and running around shirtless in my front yard, mooning cars as they went. I ran around, trying to salvage broken ping pong balls and furniture, for four hours until the craziness started to die down. In the midst of all this mayhem, though, I managed to have some fun with the few people I had been planning to invite in the first place.
Then, one by one then all at once, they left my house, and my parents and I were left, at midnight, to try to pick up the cups littered everywhere and all of my misplaced stuff. I found ping pong balls in every place imaginable, my necklaces strewn around my room, melting snow in cushions, my younger brother’s plastic lightsabers in the snow, and lost Eos that didn’t belong to me in every room of the house. A while later, I finally went on my phone to see many pictures on social media sites of people posing in my house, guys lying shirtless in the snow, and the announcements of multiple new couples.
All in all, I’m not planning to have another party anytime soon. I suggest that if you plan on having one, set clear boundaries on who can come and what people can and can’t do in your house. Standing up to people for disrespecting your stuff or posting about it online doesn’t make you any less “cool”. It doesn’t lower your social standing. It just makes the other person look stupid and rude, and will hopefully get the message out clear enough to anyone else that had been planning on doing the same. Besides, what’s worse: standing up to someone, or having your house trashed? And that’s definitely not the most atrocious possible happening. My fiesta may have gotten slightly out of hand, but much worse could have happened. I hope you all are reasonably cautious, but not too careful as to not enjoy yourselves!