The 80's stage a hostile takeover

My house has become the 80's, as invisioned by people who lived 1 year of their lives in the 80's.

My roomate's friends are in their final year of nursing, and they are all finishing up for the year. After a hard year of learning how to bedbath and discussing deep thoughts (like, really, how do you even KNOW if someone needs gravol, like, emotionally?) they are ready to let loose and party. At my house.

I was okay with this when I was first told. That's because in my world parties work like this:
1. Buy beer/gin
2. Drink beer/ pour gin into bucket and drink
3. Leave

Not in the world of nurses. I worked a night shift last night and woke up at 10 this morning, after 2 delicious and inadequate hours of sleep to loud pumping VERY bad hip-hop music and alot of people blowing up balloons in my kitchen. Now my whole house looks like a cross between an 8 year old's birthday party (but not in the Laos sense) and an explosion at a flourescent paint factory. Every time I open my door I get hit in the head with a Blondie poster. So that's nice.

I remember having theme parties in my last apartment. They were fun. This is not. My roomate has called me 2 times a day for the past week so that I can tell her if she can wear flourescent green fishnets AND a pink tank top....or is that too much. Eventually I just started to tell her my cell battery was dying. My computer suddenly has a lot of really bad 80's music on it because, in a moment of weakness, I told her she could download stuff for the party. "Like a virgin" keeps working itself into my playlist, like a parasite.

I am working out a plan so I don't have to be here tonight. Maybe I'll work another night shift.....hospice sounds like more fun than this.