The Party House

Good morning, my lovely readers. I'm so sorry that I haven't been writing and blogging so much, and well, the reason for that is I have a bit more calm in my mind these days, and I don't crave writing as much. Writing for me is such an outlet and calms me. It's the best thing for anyone who suffers from anxiety, and well, now that I have mostly good days, I do find that I forget to write in my diary or don't feel a need to do a blog. So yeah, it's a good thing, but I need to practice good habits, and I enjoy doing this, so I don't want to let you guys down. I'll keep them coming!

I'm relaxing at home, trying to be productive (airport standby surprise later). Please message me if anyone has any advice on where to get curtains and lovely little bits for the house. I am honestly one of the least creative people you've ever met. I just want someone to design everything for me. Also, if you have any library ideas, put them forward too. That's probably the only room that I'm excited to do :)

So today I'm going to talk about the old party house, which is the house that I've moved back into (weird, I know. I try not to think of the fact that my bedroom was once my parents. Erase that from memory!) I was between 19-21 when I last lived here, and my parents were often away. It's a nice big house, so having the pre and after parties here after a night out made sense. Now, my mum used to be quite strict, and she always knew if there was anything out of place, she would always accuse me of wearing her clothes (and well, most of the time, I did). These were the days you could smoke inside pubs/bars, so there was no hiding it really unless I washed it before the time she got back, and yes, if you already have a sense of who I am, that wouldn't happen, haha; but she was convinced I would wear something of hers every time and even on the occasions I didn't borrow anything I would be accused, so I thought I might as well wear her clothes (they were designer most likely, oops). These days, I can still borrow her clothes, but sometimes she will borrow mine - it has always been handy and incentivised me to stay slim so I could fit into her clothes, so thanks, mum - win-win!

Anyway, my mum and dad were always house-proud, and parties were forbidden, so when we did have one, I would get one of the girls over first. We would take pictures of every single room, taking into account the cushion placement and everything. Parents' bedroom was always the no-go area, but it was good to go everywhere else as long as a picture had been taken of its original state. I honestly thought I was a genius. I even knew my mum would suspect something if I had filled the bin bag up and changed the bin. She just knew that it was not something I would do. So I would take the half-full bin liner, stick a new one in for the party, chuck it away before they came back, and just add a few things into the original liner. I really thought that I had thought of everything! The day after the party, anybody that stayed around I would force them to help me clean up… it's incredible how quickly people wake up, even with even the worst hangovers. If there is a prospect they might have to clean, they are off (mind you, I'd be the same).

Well, honestly my mum should have been a detective in another life because there was always something that she would find out. I remember one time there was ice left in the freezer, and we don't usually have ice, so I was caught out. Then another time, there was a tiny black jeans stain on the sofa, but I didn't have any black jeans… she just knew everything. She can laugh about it now, but I used to get in shit, but it was worth it as this was literally the best party house.

My nearby friends have been asking me if I will make it to the party house again. Well, I don't exactly want to party to the same degree. Still, I want it to be true to its roots, so Simon is going to pimp the garden out. We will get some cool decking, all the BBQ gear and a hot tub so that the party house will be better than ever soon, and I'm excited not to be told off the next day (fingers crossed).

xBx

P.S. We absolutely DID NOT go in your bedroom, Mum. I don't want to get in trouble again 😂

Previous
Previous

Overthinking

Next
Next

Feeling like Britney Spears in India