As hard as it is to relate to Chatswin most days, from time to time it’s hard not to get swept up in the town’s insanity. For example, how do you turn down an offer to have your favorite band play your sixteenth birthday party? You don’t is how. It’s impossible to resist because Chatswin’s excess can have its own gravitational pull. I tried to fight the tug once Dalia, go-go dancers and a pony got involved, but – again – favorite band. At my birthday party. My. Birthday. Party. Fortunately I came to my senses once I realized it meant nothing without Lisa, Malik and George by my side, but it was a close call.
I’d like to think history won’t repeat itself next year. But just in case, I’ve drawn up plans for my seventeenth birthday and nothing will shake me from them. Actual friends will be present. Pizza is a definite. Music – there will be no music. Music is what got us here. Also, we will screen two movies. “Twilight: Breaking Dawn,” (because, holy what? That’s how they solve the pregnancy problem?!) and “A Thin Red Line” (Because if it’s good enough for Kimantha, it’s good enough for me.)
It will be a small party. It will be a simple party. And it will be eminently better than this year’s because it will be my party. I will never again choose flash over substance. As much as it’s the Chatswin way, it’s not my way.
Though, I’d still like to take my picture with a pony.