Tomorrow is my 18th birthday, and I’ve just had a slightly tense discussion with my Mum and my brother about what we should do for the day. Eventually, we decided that – first of all – we’d go to the cinema. Even though it’s not his birthday tomorrow, my brother seemed to be initially reluctant to follow this idea. He essentially pointed out that, because I’d be turning 18, I should probably be doing something more worthy, and I assume that somewhere in his mind were the words “party animal”.
Don’t get me wrong, I know how hilarious and thoroughly enjoyable a wild party can be, and some of my friends probably spent their own 18th birthdays taking a similar approach. For me, however, there are perhaps a few things wrong with it. Let me say before I explain myself that it almost pains me to admit that. Why? Because it’s probably not what much of society has come to expect from people my age, and as I’ve now seen it so frequently with other people I feel unwittingly ashamed that I haven’t conformed. To make matters worse, I can’t even help this; sometimes I have no choice but to take it easy.
As I am physically a little bit weaker than everyone else, I get tired very easily – even after things like car journeys, which require little or no physical effort at all. You can therefore imagine what trying to party like it’s 1999 could do to any energy I have left. Unfortunately, it’s incredibly hard to keep up with the whole thing, and I’d almost like to apologise to any future hosts of parties I may attend for the grouchy creature I’ll be by the end of the night. Also, the consequences of a heavy night’s revelling don’t really appeal to me. I’d rather remember everything that happened upon waking than not! Maybe one day I’ll be more capable of surviving, but for now I’m easily pleased – and proud of it. A film at the cinema and a curry with family is fine by me – but let’s hope my brother will pay for popcorn too!