Halloween at an American high school.

I really enjoy writing these accounts, they feel like a form of therapy and it’s something to do while watching TV and a great distraction from work.

We are now approaching the present day, but I wanted to talk about Halloween, which was two weeks ago yesterday.

Everyone one must know about the differences between Halloween in England and America. While England halloween is not celebrated by all and is all extremely mundane, in America, from what I have exprieixned halloween is mental, well at least where I live.

Now Halloween In London was and is basic, I remember last year I went clubbing, my effort consisted of extra eyeliner and extra eyeshadow and an entirely black outfit, but that’s about it. I also remember my nanny buying sweets to hand out to the children who knocked on our door. But again that was about it.

But this year again after watching mean girls and various high school and college movies and TV shows, admittedly I was excited to experience an American halloween night. I remember the streets being decks with Halloween decorations for weeks before the day and that school day, I remember everyone adhering the the Halloween traditions, by accessorising their outfits. I also remember the constant gossip and chatter about the entire cohorts house party, that was being hosted by the football (soccer) team. You would notice that American football isn’t big in my area, I was shook as well, that was the foundation of my American stereotype was wrong. But anyway, the fact that this party was for the entire cohort meant it could even be attended by some Freshman, of course they had to be invited or a plus one, but essentially the party was massive and consisted of all different groups and people, and was totally inclusive to the entire upper class (juniors and seniors).

All my friends had decided to go with their best boy friends or literal boyfriends, meaning the week before I was forced (obviously not forced because I could have been a third wheel) to quickly find myself a ‘date’ for the party. I decided to ask a boy that I was friendly with on the football team (I couldn’t go with my brother because he was dressing up with all his friends), even though I wasn’t interested in the sport that captured the entire cohort (ironic because it’s a european heritage) and I definitely hadn’t watched the high school games, but I figured it would make my time better, you know going with someone who would know everyone there, that wouldn’t get embarrassed and of course have unlimited access to drink and the DJ. We had AP English together and his charisma and attitude definitely seemed fun and blazè, so one day during my lesson, the previous week I hinted at him that I needed a boy to go to the party with and the next day he asked me, (thankfully). (I think it took a day because he needed to make sure that the football team weren’t all going together) They weren’t but they were pre-ing at the party house meaning I was now invited to that, guess my decision to go with him was a good one and I knew that I would have secured an invite to the after-party.

I mean all this talk in previous accounts about trying to isolate myself I realise was probably my denial and fear and now I realised I could enjoy my senior year and have fun.

Anyway, we decided to dress as Batman and Cat woman basic I know, but surprisingly we weren’t aware of anyone doing it, so while I wore my revealing, skin-tight outfit, with only my mask feeling like a coverup, he wore the basic batman outfit available to purchase on amazon. We went to the pre’s and with every look and obvious checking out I got more and more self-conscious, but that was when I realised it was time to get drunk.

And this blog once again makes me sound like an alcoholic or someone diagnosed with anxiety, I can’t lie, I probably do have both those things.

I explicitly remember that night that I wanted to have a laugh and I was ready for it and it was obvious that the football team was as well. We started to down shot after shot but unlike them I was and am a complete lightweight, no matter how much I try to build up my tolerance.

Anyway I was absolutely pissed by the time people began to arrive at the house, I was barely able to stand up and therefore for the beginning of the night was practically leaning on my date, I danced with him and my friends who had come with their ‘dates’, for the majority of the night, not being able to drink anymore, as I was just one drink away from vomiting. I remember laughing and joking and flirting with as many boys as possible and really and truly enjoying myself with my friends. My date throughout the night stuck by me and personally introduced me to many of my peers who I hadn’t yet had an actual conversation with, (although looking back they can’t of got the best interpretation of me, with me being drunk and all).

I remember that by the end of the party at about one am due to police interference, I had sobered up and could now be considered ‘tipsy’ and we headed to an after party at someone from the teams house. There was around thirty of us there who had made the cut from the five hundred people who had been at the party. It included the football team and all their dates, as well as a couple people who had been personally invited . I reminder (not literally remember but from snapchat stories) getting re-pissed during a game of  flip, sip or strip and on these stories watching myself getting with 1/2/3 people that I only knew by association (they seemed to all be good looking) . I remember the majority of the players having to take of their top, leaving me therefore in just my bra and leather trousers. Another game we played which left me on the brink of unconsciousness was Dirty Pint. It was brutal.

The next day I woke up with a paralysing hangover in my house at three pm, with a bucket of sick by my bed, which resulted in my absence from school. I figured that a bunch of my friends would be absent after watching snapchat stories of me and them out until four in the morning. That morning I realised that I wasn’t going to go to the city on the weekend to see my dad who was living in an apartment there for work and go clubbing with my brother and couple of our friends, because I would definitely still be worn out from that night, and I was.

Anyway thats how my halloween went.

Comment any mad halloween night’s in America.

Petal.

New boys

This post is hard because I want to tell you my story but the boy situation reaches the present: so sorry for the spoilers.

Before I moved: when in London I went to an all girls boarding school, so during term time it was almost impossible to speak to a boy, unless it was a rare weekend when you went home. However during the holiday, when I came home, I was unleashed along with the entirety of the boarding school population to the male species.

My male friends were predominantly made up of the boys I would summer with (go on holiday with) and those my family were friendly with. So again I still had limited interaction with the male species. However, once I turned the rightful age of 15, my male best friend and I, a boy that I spent almost everyday with when at home, as he only lived  a couple of doors down from me, found out the concept of ‘friends with benefits’. And at the rightful age of 15 years and months my virginity was lost. Now I don’t know what’s normal where you live, but where I did in London, I was by no means the first, and surprisingly to many about 3/4 of the Kensington teen population had lost their ‘sacred’ virgin status before me. This was due to boys and girls in my area being exposed to drugs and alcohol from a young age and clubbing being experienced from the age of 15. Also I think once someone loses their virginity it become a race not to be the last and I remember during year 10 it became a trend to have sex. 

I remember after that we continuously maintained our relationship throughout the whole of year 10 and 11, neither of us got into other relationships and even though I was speaking to people throughout this period, none were serious enough in resulting in the end of our ‘Best friends with benefits’. As much as he loved me, he was never in love with me and I can proudly say that it was mutual, I think looking back it was partly because I knew he only wanted my body at night and not during the day, he didn’t want an emotional relationship and most importantly he wanted other girls company’s as well as mine, which made me hold back, in hindsight I probably could have loved him if I put my heart out there. 

Anyway moving on to year 11 summer when I met the first boy I was infatuated with, who I stopped my ‘Friends with benefits relationship’ for. I met him through my younger brother who went to an all boys boarding school, while watching one of his rugby matches because my parents couldn’t make it (I think from my blogs you will begin to understand that my parents were mostly absent.) Anyway, we continued to ‘talk’ on snap chat then progressed to face time during my school term (I remember being thrilled when I got his number, lol).

I remember my first time spending a long period of time together, we were invited to a mutual friends party. I remember the dress code being smarter because it was at a bar in London, and I remember wearing my best dress (for me and admittedly a tiny bit for him), getting my makeup and hair done. I remember that night getting both high and drunk (well not literally remember), and we all know that is a very dangerous concoction if you have ever experienced it. After we had moved from the bar to club and finished our night off, I remember waking up in my house in my dress with no clue what had happened the night before. As my friends recalled, he had taken me home, put me in bed and put the duvet over me, I’m pretty sure that when I became boy crazy of (boy singular crazy) in my case. Our relationship began in August and we date eight months, after breaking up in April, after I found out he had been constantly cheating on me. My heart shattered and my sole broke, however this was worsened when my parents told me we were leaving to America just a few weeks after. I had told the boy I loved him, I had had sex with him I had shared my life with him, and despite how many times he had told me he was “sorry” and “made the biggest mistake of his life” and that “he loved me”. I knew I could never forgive him and I believe thats what made me try and isolate myself in the summer and the beginning of the school year. 

Thats right you guessed it it’s been a difficult 2018. 

Current situation: I remember when my relationship ending distancing myself from the possibility of being with boys, not getting with anyone despite watching him party with girls all summer (on Snapchat). America I have to admit meant the end of our relationship was more final, despite his constant calls I received over the summer from him. Anyway, moving on. During my first few weeks of school, because I was now at a mixed school and virtually spending practically everyday with boys was inevitable. (I have to say an all girls boarding school definitely did not prepare me for a mixed school) I made gradual friends with boys, although I was admittedly seeking friendships with girls more, but as I went to more parties or more parties without getting with or hooking up as American’s say it, people became more curious, inquisitive about my life in London, did I have a boyfriend, basically. I remember being desperate to not divulge into my life, believing it is better to keep them operated, and I definitely didn’t want to bring up memories of my past relationship, so I blocked out all the questions, gave zero fucks and finally decided to move on.

By the way, it wasn’t external pressure that resulted in my moving on, but internal pressure and knowing that my ex was out there fucking the entirety of West London and probably South West London. 

These thought started to lead me down the same path I was on prior to my relationship, having fun, maybe too much fun but I didn’t care. It may be classified as leading boys on, because I genuinely didn’t care about any of them. In a matter of weeks I had got with four boys, all of whom where good looking, and two of who I was talking to before I got with them (Make out, not sex). It was not until after then I realised that where I was, as I have previously said that gossip spreads like wildfire, people were judging me for thinks that I had never been judged about before, as I had always been a nun in relation to my friends, things that I definitely did not want to be known for.

I remember all this gossip pushing me back into the shell and led me to isolate myself from my new friends. I began to eat in the IT suite for a few days, not go out the next weekend. I took me two weeks too realise how little I cared about a reputation that would not define me, and I realised it was based on your ‘typical high school jealous girl’ (cliche I know). My friends were loyal and that relieved me from the constant pain I was feeling about missing my bed friends back home. 

But the good news, although it took me time to adapt to the new boys in Long Island and the difference in attitudes about boys, I have done successfully which has helped me get over my ex. 

I will continue to discuss boys in my present and passed 3 weeks, but don’t want to include anything that will take away from other accounts. 

Once again any questions comment and any thoughts on my structure and language. 

Petal