It finally happened.
After years of university and house-sharing, this weekend marked a momentous occasion.
My very first ‘house’ Christmas.
I feel as though they should make frames bearing that phrase. In fact, it would come as no shock to me to discover they do.
To tell you the truth, we were all so merrily distracted that we forgot to take a single photo and whilst I ever so slightly wish we’d captured the magic, the pixels wouldn’t do it justice.
There’s something truly touching about the realisation that those twelve plus hours of genuine, uninterrupted joy will always only be known to the eight of us.
Ever the sentimentalist, already I know that yesterday will be one I remember when I finally take that moment to look back on my life.
It was everything living should be.
I ate ravenously. I drank like a fish. I laughed without inhibition.
We laughed without inhibition.
And it was glorious.
The ‘house’ Christmas is a curious thing.
There is, to my knowledge, no other occasion celebrated in identical fashion twice.
Logically, you’d think enthusiasm for such a saga would be as thin on the ground as a blanket of snow in southern England.
Instead, we peel and parboil en masse, with Fairytale of New York blasting through the speakers.
Living with friends arguably became a cultural phenomenon relatively recently, as attested to by the immense and enduring power of, yes, Friends, and its various 90s TV show counterparts.
Now we don’t even question it. It’s become a natural part of so many people’s journeys to adulthood and whilst it can be tricky at times, I am so grateful that it is.
Without house and flat sharing, my life and the people in it would look very different.
And I, like many others, wouldn’t have had Decembers that were nearly so much fun.
The ‘house’ Christmas is majestic, but so too is the ever-increasing energy that hits communal dwellings everywhere in early November.
Festivities in early November are just that. Early. For the majority of people living with the loved ones they’ll be spending the big day with, the slightest hint of tinsel prior to the 1st is enough to send them further over the edge than Bridget Jones.
That is, of course, the bittersweet thing about the ‘house’ Christmas. Come mid-December, everyone will be preparing to prance home, therefore you make the choice.
Either you buy a tree and dig out the fairy lights on a random November night, or you panic come December 5th when you realise there’s only 10 days to go until all is calm and nothing is bright.
Generosity of spirit is often only spoken of at this time of year. It’s presence is contemplated as uncommonly beautiful, a rarity to be relished for as long as the glittering decorations appear with aplomb.
That’s not the case.
It’s always there.
And with good housemates, every day is full of it.
Modernish 