For most students, the day will come when it’s finally time to make the move into your first (shared) house. Your very own little kingdom, nestled nicely in a student neighbourhood, just like our lovely Lenton. And so, with this newfound freedom and space of your own, you’ll probably have your fair share of wild house parties to attend to. However, you may find that not all of these quite reach that Project X status you were hoping for.
After a well paced pre-drinks, you show up at the perfect time. Gliding effortlessly into the crowd of party-ready people.
You arrive far too early and, even though it’s already half twelve, there’s still only four people making awkward conversation in the kitchen. Why does everyone always turn up so late to these things? Alternatively, you aim for fashionably late yourself, but apparently miss by a mile. Everyone’s far beyond their peak, vomit and neighbours’ complaints already dealt with – but so is the party.
After your spectacularly timed entrance, you smoothly part from your friends to mix with this pool of deeply fascinating new people. No doubt you’ll be leaving this party even more of a BNOC than you already are.
With the awkward mix of your host’s hall/course/society friends, you find yourself spewing the exact same spiel of tiresome small talk at everyone you meet – is this Freshers’ Week all over again? After a few rounds of bleak chitchat, or even worse, plain judging glares from across the room, you retreat back to the people you arrived with.
Subwoofer speakers are blasting through the entire house, if not the entire street. The floorboards are shaking, windows trembling, the vibrations jolting everyone to get up and dance to whatever wonderful noise this may be.
The sorry sounds of an iPod stuck in someone’s crackly speakers echo around the kitchen, stuttering every few minutes as someone simply must play the latest Capital FM banger they’re ‘in love with’. Or if you’re lucky, some guy might turn up with a deck and stand behind the kitchen table pretending he knows how to DJ.
With no bar and no queues, it’s affordably all down to you. And so, with a carefully stashed hoard of beverages, the drinks will be flowing until morning.
An hour or so in, you’ve misplaced your mixer (more likely, someone’s stolen it). You’re left scrambling through the kitchen cupboards for whatever else your unsuspecting hosts have got: milk, protein shake, hot sauce. Cheers.
The element of ‘party’ is definitely in the air. Peppy balloons and a scattering of streamers litter the floor, red cup clutching guests mix and mingle, and a host’s investment in a set of disco lights really does pay off (three cheers for Amazon).
Struggling with the open plan kitchen/living room, half of the room is beaming bright and the other is so dark you can’t see a thing. The surfaces glisten with nothing but general student grime and those laughing gas balloons have everyone tittering away, but also dribbling. And on your jacket too.
But we still somehow have a good time, don’t we?
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Photo Credits: Zomerpop Festival via Compfight cc, Nicholas Shore via Flickr, Neven Mrgan via Flickr, Zomerpop Festival via Compfight cc, TheeErin via Flickr, KONSUL via Flickr, Sheldon Wood via Flickr, The Vault DFW via Flickr, Better than News via Flickr, Maria Casacalenda via Flickr, arileu via Flickr.