On the grand scale of things, what I'm about to rant about isn't that important.
But to me? It's like an avalanche has just hit me.
My father (note the tone) is not allowing me to have a party with more that 20 people.
He may as well just lock me up in a tower and throw away the key for my birthday. Me and my friend had it all worked out: who I was going to invite, how many people would have plus 1s, how many boys would be there and now...
Parents are just so...
There are no words.
Thankfully, 17 isn't an important age. In fact I reeeealllly don't want to turn 17 because
A. None all of the teens in the American films (i.e. Dirty Dancing, Monte Carlo) are 16 and magical things happen for them.
B. I have the mind of a 10 year old so the older I get the less acceptable it is when I go to Game and buy the newest Harry Potter DS Game *hangs head in shame*...
C. It means my party will have to top my last one; and I loved my 16th birthday party (it was a surprise so I did no work and I still had loads of fun).
Oh you would think I was a spoilt little brat if I didn't explain why my ban from having a proper party is bugging me so much: my father was a wild child when he was younger (think: downing pints at the pub at 15) , so it's just so hypocritical!
I hate being in a bad mood and I know that I'm being silly and in approximately 5 minutes I will look back at this moment and say: "Oh, tits, you are a plonker".
Until that moment, however, I am going to sulk.
Keep you posted,
May it be noted that I'm looking back now and realising I am a plonker and my birthday will still be fun. Besides, my 18th is just around the corner... :p