Celebrating New Year is necessary, mascara is not
New Year's Eve has always been a big deal, for a reason or another. The fact that it's an arbitrary beginning of a new revolution Earth makes around the Sun, is just the general excuse for people to drink a lot, be loud, wear sparkly clothes outside Las Vegas, and set unrealistic life-changing goals.
When you're a child there isn't much you can do, you are stuck with your parents and you are lucky if you manage to stay awake past nine. I remember very clearly the first New Year's I've spent with my friends, no parents around, also no alcohol but, hey, that was probably the first time I've seen my friends together not at a birthday party. It marked the beginning not only of a new year but a new life for me.
For real, this time! Not some empty resolutions.
Since then, every New Year's Eve had to be better, grander, crazier and, most importantly, more away from our parents. To be fully honest, nobody cared about Earth revolving around the Sun, the real interest was in that bottle spinning.
I remember laughing at my boring coupled-up friends, telling them they were crazy for wanting a quiet board game night. In fact, the real party was happening at a cold and dusty cabin in the woods, with a bunch of friends of friends and questionable alcohol mixes. Half the evening was spent trying to find that damn cabin, and hoping that someone brought a bottle opener. The rest of the night, or early morning, usually saw everyone snoring in sleeping bags covered with layers of extra jackets because no one kept the fire going.
Good times.
Despite the location, I have always loved the excitement of dressing up, putting some extra make-up on my face and showing off my personal style. Yes, I was overdressed, and yes, usually the morning after I regretted my makeup choices and the zip stamp across my cheek.
Now that you know the background of my ideal New Year’s Eve kind of party, you can understand how, when two years ago I was invited to a New Year's Eve party at my friends' place, I clearly had no idea what I was doing with my life. A New Year's eve that had food, shelter, and comforts?
Was I adulting right, for once?
The party started in the morning and was presented as a board and video game day, eventually becoming New Year's celebration among close friends. I was torn between adulting, and becoming like my boring coupled friends. Luckily we had wine and playing cards, which can only mean one thing: drinking games!
The redemption of tabletop games.
In the end we were just chilling in our onesies, girls gossiping with no make-up on and boys playing video-games.
Note to my teenage self: don't be so harsh on your quieter friends and don't overestimate the power of mascara.
Did I miss sloppy strangers and the rustic vibe of a forgotten cabin in the woods? I can't say I did. What I did miss was the excitement of dressing up for a "special occasion". That being said, I would have popped a bottle of wine and called the girls for drinking games anyway. All in all, New Year's Eve is just another day, it doesn't define who you are or who your friends are, and it won't set a mood for the following twelve months.
As we know, that was the year of glitter!
So, this was the story of that time, on New Year's Eve, when I wasn't even wearing mascara.
Image: via
When you're a child there isn't much you can do, you are stuck with your parents and you are lucky if you manage to stay awake past nine. I remember very clearly the first New Year's I've spent with my friends, no parents around, also no alcohol but, hey, that was probably the first time I've seen my friends together not at a birthday party. It marked the beginning not only of a new year but a new life for me.
For real, this time! Not some empty resolutions.
Since then, every New Year's Eve had to be better, grander, crazier and, most importantly, more away from our parents. To be fully honest, nobody cared about Earth revolving around the Sun, the real interest was in that bottle spinning.
I remember laughing at my boring coupled-up friends, telling them they were crazy for wanting a quiet board game night. In fact, the real party was happening at a cold and dusty cabin in the woods, with a bunch of friends of friends and questionable alcohol mixes. Half the evening was spent trying to find that damn cabin, and hoping that someone brought a bottle opener. The rest of the night, or early morning, usually saw everyone snoring in sleeping bags covered with layers of extra jackets because no one kept the fire going.
Good times.
Despite the location, I have always loved the excitement of dressing up, putting some extra make-up on my face and showing off my personal style. Yes, I was overdressed, and yes, usually the morning after I regretted my makeup choices and the zip stamp across my cheek.
Now that you know the background of my ideal New Year’s Eve kind of party, you can understand how, when two years ago I was invited to a New Year's Eve party at my friends' place, I clearly had no idea what I was doing with my life. A New Year's eve that had food, shelter, and comforts?
Was I adulting right, for once?
The party started in the morning and was presented as a board and video game day, eventually becoming New Year's celebration among close friends. I was torn between adulting, and becoming like my boring coupled friends. Luckily we had wine and playing cards, which can only mean one thing: drinking games!
The redemption of tabletop games.
In the end we were just chilling in our onesies, girls gossiping with no make-up on and boys playing video-games.
Note to my teenage self: don't be so harsh on your quieter friends and don't overestimate the power of mascara.
Did I miss sloppy strangers and the rustic vibe of a forgotten cabin in the woods? I can't say I did. What I did miss was the excitement of dressing up for a "special occasion". That being said, I would have popped a bottle of wine and called the girls for drinking games anyway. All in all, New Year's Eve is just another day, it doesn't define who you are or who your friends are, and it won't set a mood for the following twelve months.
As we know, that was the year of glitter!
So, this was the story of that time, on New Year's Eve, when I wasn't even wearing mascara.
Image: via
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