Sixteen Doesn’t Mean A Party

February 24, 2012 at 6:24 pm Leave a comment

For the longest time, I looked forward to turning sixteen. There always seemed to be a lot of hype around that ‘magical’ age: driving aimlessly with friends, having a boyfriend, spending large amounts of money on clothes that will be worn once, and going to wild parties full of music, dancing, drunk couples making out in the corners, and co-ed sleepovers. Now back to reality: ‘Sweet Sixteen’ is not all that. Oh sure, maybe it is for the public school students whose parents want to see them make as many mistakes as possible, but not for the average homeschooled chick.

Here is a normal weekend for this sixteen year old girl: Stay up late (11:00, midnight, maybe), and sleep in. Perhaps have a few friends over, eat junk food, and watch movies; catch up on the boy drama that happened over the past week; and watch a chick flick either by myself or with my mother. Some weekends involve sleepovers–which consists of basically the same things as mentioned above, only with one or two other girls. Really good weekends have a party stuck in there: these are parties with a supervised adult in the house, root beer (not beer), and general talking and laughing. There will be dancing and music, depending on the type of party. Surprisingly, my mother allows me to have co-ed sleepovers–and when I say co-ed I mean three girls and the brother of one of the girls. This is because there is no romantic attraction between myself and the guy. If there was, she would tell me I have to wait until I’m twenty five and not living in her house–and not to tell her if I do. I usually have the use of my mother’s car (a white minivan, so you know I look cool), which is probably the highlight of being sixteen right now.

I was happy with these arrangements, until I heard of a friend’s Saturday: clubbing. This immediately made me feel very young and very lame. My, ‘Sweet Sixteen’ weekends, suddenly sounded more like your average eleven year old’s in comparison. I felt just a tad jealous as I listened to descriptions of the bouncers, the flirtations, and the getting home at 3 a.m. Doesn’t a girl who’s trying to survive high school, get this kind of freedom? Whatever happened to the meaning in the song, “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun”? Why do singers even write about partying when it seems as though the only people who can live the songs are eighteen and older? It’s as though society is deliberately sticking their tongues out at the nerdy homeschoolers who sit at home on a Saturday night reading either a Wall Street Journal article their dad threw at them, or Bossypants by Tina Fey.

So to my nearing-sixteen-year olds: life will probably be about the same as it is for you now, except you may have your license or you have more responsibility and rules thrust upon you (no texting past 11:00 on a school night!). You’re probably more likely to get grounded and have your cell phone taken away from you, too. The older you get, while you’re still living at home, the more possessions your parents will have to threaten taking away–that really cool ipod touch you bought? If you disagree with your parents, they’ll take it away. Car privileges? Also revoked. It seems as if the older you get, the less fun life will be because you’ll have more to whine about to your friends about your parents–if you see your friends.

But, do not fret! You’ll have plenty of time to be stupid when you’re older. The point of parents’ restrictions is to prevent you from doing stupid things now. Because, lets face it, we’re more likely to make a stupid decision than a smart one, while we’re teenagers. That’s why you can’t go to the party that might have smokers there–unless your parents are confident in your ability to say no despite peer pressure. And even though the initial thought of going to a party that has that seems fun, a lot of people can get hurt or in trouble by doing so. Enjoy the sleepovers with your girls. Enjoy the stomach cramps that come from laughing so hard at nothing. Enjoy the fact that you’re high from soda, not weed. And to everybody else who has the privilege of staying out as late as they want? Kindly don’t tell us younger ones about it. We don’t wanna know.


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Choices And The Future Memories

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