Sixteen Candles…

Still on my nostalgia kick, and just about to hit the peak of our family birthday season, I naturally got to thinking about birthdays. There are birthdays and there are birthdays. As a child each and every single one is of earth shattering importance, and as an adult most of us tend to make a big deal every ten years for the big ones. As my own birthday month draws near and I am being asked what my plans are {not much, btw}, I instead find my mind casting back to some of the best birthday’s I have already celebrated. Funnily enough for someone with a blog all about herself and her life, I have never really liked all the fuss and attention that comes with a birthday. My thirtieth, almost nine years ago, was the last time I had a party. It was a big night, I had a blast, and thanks to all the friends who helped me celebrate, it was a night to remember. Or at least it was until someone started lining up shots of tequila…

The other one that still stands out in my memories as being one of the most special, fun birthdays I have ever had was my sixteenth. Judging from what I have seen in the last few years from dropping off and picking up my son’s from friends birthdays, it’s safe to say that mine was pretty daggy. These days no birthday party is complete without the hottest DJ, professional photographer, light show, smoke machine, designer threads, sky high Louboutins, and the latest “it” bag. My sweet sixteen was a backyard BBQ for me and my friends and cousins, with all the older relatives in the house. There were probably some paper streamers and balloons taped up for decoration, there were all my small cousins running around, and we all played DJ with everyone taking turns to play whatever they wanted to hear.

It was made marginally cooler when my brand new boyfriend of just one week turned up with his brother and friends, carrying a case of beer. With their long hair, black leather, and boots they injected a much needed dash of cool. Also making me feel less nerdy were the dozen or so guests who had come along on a word of mouth invite from a friend, a.k.a. gatecrashers. Which I was actually very happy about because it almost made it seem like my party was the place to be that night. {Either that or there was nothing else happening that night…}

There was not much joy for my one of my friends who stumbled onto two of the crashers getting to know each other better in my darkened bedroom. She promptly ran in horror straight to my Mum, who duly kicked them out of the house and threatened to phone their parents and inform them of what their wayward teens had been up to.

Then there were the sneaky relatives peeking through the curtains trying to see what the young folk were up to. They seemed to think we wouldn’t notice their faces pressed up at the window where there should have been a cream curtain. There was one older Aunt who warned my parents that it all looked completely out of control {what with all the young kids running around and the vast amounts of red cordial being consumed}, and helpfully tried to convince my Mum that the long haired teenage boys were most likely Satan worshipers.

I was over the moon that my actual real life boyfriend was in my back yard, and was therefore pretty much oblivious to most of everything else that may have gone on that night. Those were also the days of photo’s taken on film, and it wasn’t until I had the photos developed that I learned exactly how much fun some people had been having, because, in typical no-thought-for-consequences teenage behaviour, they had documented their actions “The Hangover”-style as the night went on. Using my Mum’s camera. And a few of them were over 18 and definitely not drinking red cordial. I also copped some trouble from the parentals when my Mum flicked through the photos and asked how I could dare to hug a boy in the backyard while my grandparents sat in the house. Geez, the nerve of some kids 😉

The boyfriend and his pals must have had an okay time, because from what I remember they stayed until somewhere around one in the morning. At which point, just my friends being left, we had an old fashioned slumber party. The best kind, where we all stayed up the rest of the night dissecting the whole party while watching the all night music channel and checking out the gifts I had been given.

Funnily enough, another sixteenth birthday to remember was actually my oldest sons’. {Although this time around I was the idiot documenting drunken shenanigans with a camera, “The Hangover”-style. But that’s another story for another time. A story that would be called “when parents forget they’re supposed to be supervising a party and have more fun than the kids”.}

Til next time,

Ana. xoxo

  1. Aaah, memories. Your sweet sixteen sounds way better than any flashy light shows and professional DJ’s in offer these days. But the boyfriend and his friends – definite Satan worshippers. And the hugging OMG! 😉


    1. However daggy, it WAS fun.


  2. Sweet Sixteens these days can be INSANE. Did you ever see that series about it? My birthday parties consisted of watching movies or miniature golf.

    Keep the nostalgia kick going, these are so enjoyable to read.


    1. They are insane now, send I haven’t seen that show. I loved slumber parties.

      Glad your enjoying the nostalgia 🙂


  3. These old school parties were definitely the best, not so much of keeping up with the Joneses and more about actually having fun! My 18th, since it was (and always is) in Winter was litterally a daggy party so that we could all be rugged up and be outside. Had lots of fun too. Never would that be heard of these days. I didn’t even know what handbag was back then let alone a pair of Louboutins.
    Oh and by the way, you could have warned me I was marrying a satan worshipper!!!!


    1. They were more fun, I agree. These days it’s more about looking flash.

      I thought you would recognize a Satan worshipper by the long hair!


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