Slumber party for adults
If this year's trend to host indoor dinner parties over going out is anything to go by, we guarantee will be the year of sleepovers instead of all-nighters or parties see you later, Fear of Missing Out, it's the era of staying in, otherwise known as the Joy of Missing Out. Besides, you can still sip on wine and enjoy yourself without the headache of catching a ride home. Just relax, laugh, and have fun. Sounds like a good recipe to us.
Ambar. Age: 28. Adult energetic slim with a sporty figure and great sexual experience and passionate temperament invites an adult decent man for private meetings.
Spending the night with good friends, eating good food, watching hilarious movies, and talking into the wee hours is still a fantastic idea. Comfort is key when planning a slumber party for adults. None of this sleeping in treehouses or on the hard ground; make sure your guests have a comfy place to sleep and lounge. Scatter plenty of pillows and cushions around, and encourage everyone to dress for comfort in pjs and cozy slippers. Offer an array of fun activities to your friends. Set up a game table with cards or Bunko, arrange a selection of movies guaranteed to have you laughing until you cry, organize a dance-off, or get very bold indeed and tempt the fates with a game of truth or dare.
Amanda Seyfried. Age: 31. Spectacular looks and crazy charisma and temperament will carry you into the world of sexuality and seduction. My creative approach will not leave you indifferent.
For a group of sixth-grade girls growing up in Chicago, it was the best kind of summer night. Someone else brought a list of phone numbers for the boys in their class that they planned to prank call. Once the lights were off, everyone tucked into sleeping bags, they whispered their secrets: conflict at home, deeply-felt insecurities, the name of a crush. But by the time women reach their late teens or early 20s — usually by graduation for those who go to college — the sleepovers stop.
We have let adulthood rob us of so many privileges. Twenty-something years ago, it was totally acceptable for me to run around the backyard without any pants on, and although my memories of it are vague, they are nonetheless so, so sweet. Now my legs are imprisoned by pants, I'm expected to magically know how to file taxes, and people get super judgey when I drink from an apple juice box. Who let adulthood hold such dominion over us?!