Diary of a Gen Z Student: Sure, what could possibly go wrong at an end-of-exams party?

This year, my friends and I have rented a house for our post-exams Christmas party... just a bunch of burnt-out students, embracing the fact that we don’t have a job to lose if we do something stupid

Jane Cowan: "Attending a Christmas party hosted by young people will end in disaster. It’s like a Shakespearean tragedy, the fall from greatness, fated. The best we can aim for is minimal reputational damage." Picture: Moya Nolan

As I’m writing this, I am running on very little sleep. I’m just about hobbling to the end of the college semester. Running on fumes, low on iron, anticipating my 10th dose of freshers’ flu to strike the moment I submit my final assignment.

Confining my life to the library since early November means, it’s been a while since I’ve experienced actual sunlight on my skin. I’ve started shining the torch from my phone on my face every morning, just to feel something.

It’s not a glamorous life. But if there is one great, shining hope for students in December, it is the prospect of a Christmas-themed house party. Never a classy affair, but always a good opportunity for an Instagram story. It’s a bit of a religious occasion for us.

I feel bad for old people with stable careers and pensions, gearing themselves up for an oh-so-chic office Christmas party. Sure, it’s nice that your company will probably be paying for your dinner and handing out a few free drink tokens.

But you’ve had to book childcare weeks in advance (or remind your husband that looking after his own children is not babysitting).

You’ll spend the week before trying to figure out what to get Steve from accounting for Secret Santa.

All the while knowing that, if you get a little too merry and do something stupid at a staff Christmas party, it could well cost you a job. So grown up, so not fun.

Gen Z, on the other hand, know how to have fun at Christmas. We don’t have to worry about things like keeping our children alive before we can have fun. We’re not particularly worried about self-preservation either, in my experience.

For that reason, things can and do go wrong when a group of young people try to host a Christmas party. I know this from experience. We’re so excited to be unshackled from college exams, that we lose all sense of reality.

I would frame this as helpful advice, but attending a Christmas party hosted by young people will end in disaster. It’s like a Shakespearean tragedy, the fall from greatness, fated. The best we can aim for is minimal reputational damage. Certain things, you can always anticipate happening.

Jane Cowan: "Someone will volunteer to mix drinks for everyone. What they won’t say is that they are using alcohol, caffeine and sugary mixers in dangerous ratios. Whatever they concoct, can only lead to poor decision-making."

For instance, someone will volunteer to mix drinks for everyone. What they won’t say is that they are using alcohol, caffeine and sugary mixers in dangerous ratios. Whatever they concoct, can only lead to poor decision-making. Like drunk-calling your ex at 3am. Or drunkenly hashing out an argument with a friend. Or divulging your deepest trauma to a stranger just to avoid an awkward lull in conversation.

If it’s any consolation, you’ve also got a great excuse for poor decisions. I don’t recommend drinking said cocktail with the intention of having an excuse for calling your ex. But you definitely wouldn’t be having an original experience.

The most important thing to watch out for is any sort of greenery hanging around. Knowing students, they’re probably too cheap to buy actual mistletoe. But if you see a bunch of parsley or a head of lettuce hanging from the ceiling, try to keep moving. Those things should come with a health warning... just vectors for disease.

I know it’s Christmas, but you’ve got to stay vigilant about these things. Herpes doesn’t take a break for Christmas. And like the Dogs Trust advertisement tells us, that shit is for life. There are real risks here.

Last year, the love of my life (or so I thought) gave me tonsilitis the week before Christmas.

So, while my family was chowing down on roast turkey and ham, I was popping penicillin like it was a packet of M&Ms. Was he worth sacrificing my Christmas dinner? My current relationship status would say no.

When someone decides to include cooking a Christmas dinner in the Christmas party itinerary, the risks reach new depths. I’ve seen too many inebriated attempts at basting a turkey or peeling potatoes. And trust me, no one looks good with singed eyebrows. You may think you’re Gordon Ramsey, but I beg, just order a pizza.

This year, my friends and I have rented a house for our post-exams Christmas party. We thought we’d treat ourselves to somewhere with actual chairs and less risk of Trinity’s warden giving out to us for getting too rowdy.

Just a bunch of burnt-out students, embracing the fact that we don’t have a job to lose if we do something stupid. What could possibly go wrong?