So, I spent the weekend celebrating LaLa’s little sisters’ birthday and it was fun but it makes me remember how old I am. Not that I can really forget with my dicky knee, crappy ingrown toe and dodgy ankle.
14 years ago I turned 18. It was a fairly low key affair. I had a few mates around. Probably 4 or 5. We drank dodgy alcohol. Probably Carlton Cold or something bad. Probably watched some footy, as that is what we did. I seriously can’t remember what we did. I think we got drunk and crashed in the rumpus room over night.
Oh yeah, and it snowed, which was pretty cool.
These days it seems that kids haven’t moved on all that much. This party involved around 12 or 13 kids. There were a couple of groups. The 4 girls that take many photos of themselves (bless digital cameras), and sang along to the interesting mix of music, and then the other group that circled a chiminaya and probably talked about politics and philosophy or something..
Then of course, there were the oldies, and the youngies. Unfortunately I now fit into the oldies. I drank the dodgy Aldi beer and ‘Arrogant Frog’ champagne and got sorta tipsy, but mostly just tired.
It was interesting to look at the kids, and compare them to me and my friends 14 years ago. We didn’t hug back then. We didn’t dance to music that was 10 years old. We didn’t take photos of ourselves. We didn’t have an iPod.
The music was an interesting mix. From ABBA to Dizzee Rascal, and from tha or from Chris Brown dude (who?) to that ‘I Kissed a Girl’ song or from The Wombats to The Spice Girls. Makes me feel a little old when people dance along to all that ‘black’ rap from the US that you usually only hear in clubs. I just don’t really get that music at all, and I think my tastes are pretty eclectic.
What would happen if the 18 yr olds of today dressed like it was 1994 and then took photos of themselves? Would they still wear those clothes?
We were disappointed though that no-one got so drunk so early that they made a fool of themselves by accidentally throwing up in front of the parents.
Maybe that was just me.
Good weekend, but I’m still seriously worried about 8 years from now when my daughter turns 18.
What will being 18 in 2016 be like?
Hopefully not too different from now, or from 1994.
As long as everyone’s still ‘dancing to Joy Division and celebrating the irony’…*
See here if you’re confused.