Sunday, October 18, 2015

Back to Skool

First off, my friends are party rockers. Most of the time we disguise ourselves as upstanding, bill-paying, book club-attending, yoga-practicing basic girls. Don't let our day jobs fool you, we party hard, when it counts. When I put out the invites for a back-to-skool 90s-themed birthday party, I was fairly certain they'd bring their A-games. After all, many of these friendships began in the 90s over such quintessential activities as prank calls during sleepovers, Spice Girl parties and makeover photo shoots (with film cameras, of course). My friends did not disappoint.


I can't tell you how many times I surveyed the room, laughed out loud at the outlandish hilarity of the scene, and took it all in. If happy moments can be grabbed and stored, then my bank is full. We brought in a keg, set up a blacklight in the bathroom, turned up my comprehensive 90s playlist and opened the door. The party came in with my friends, and didn't leave until well past our bedtimes.


Like any good party, the magic lies in the stories we'll tell over future gatherings. I don't think I could properly convey the subtle humour or outright gonzo happenings anyway, without explaining the backstories of all these amazing friendships. Some of my friends are made through Rich, but we've been together long enough that a melding has occurred. Some of my friends are newer, made through parenthood, the Internet, or my neighbourhood, and I was really looking forward to welcoming these people into my weird world of good times and happy occasions. Some friends are my actual family, who are awesome and always bring their A-games. My oldest friends have known me through growth spurts, braces, over-tweezed eyebrows and my alt-rock pre-teen years.


Have you ever been to a house party where a dance floor spontaneously forms up and lasts the whole night? It's magic, I tell you. Not the sarcastic kind of dancing, either, but the real hip-shaking, break-dancing, crowd-cheering kind of movements that are second-nature to a good time.  It felt like the best high school dance ever, with many of my favourite people, and each song evoked a kind of "hell yeah!" reaction. Unlike the 90s, there was no awkwardness, crying in the bathroom, mean girls or body odour fears. Just partying.



The last sprinklings of party magic were all cleaned up this morning when Rich and I went out for greasy breakfast and came home to undo the damage. Blessed are we, the grandparents took the girls for sleepovers, so we had the whole house to ourselves for a whole night and morning. It was glorious! Now we're all back to our basic selves, cozy on a cold autumn night. Until next time!


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