It's a good thing I use an alias for this stuff, or I might get in big trouble.
There was this one time, when I was at Auburn, during my last semester there, when I was taking a class that was a HUGE waste of time.
It was called Public Personnel Administration. In a nutshell, it was Office Politics (for the public sector, mind you). You know, the stuff about sexual harassment (quid pro quo vs. hostile work environment), hiring (merit vs. spoils system), evaluating performance, maximizing performance, and that's about all I can remember. I can't even remember what I did for my presentation and paper. I just remember the class lasted 2 1/2 hours and the teacher was not an effective communicator. I also remember I wore a pink sweater for my presentation, there was a girl from Wadley, Alabama, some guy having a job waiting on him because of the spoils system, sexual harassment, something about unions, leaving class early once because I thought my sinuses were giving me problems, only I realized my jaw was hurting because I was clenching my teeth so hard, and, of course, the time I drank during class.
I had been having a rough day. I don't remember what started it, but when I couldn't find a pair of shoes to buy ('cause, duh!, there's not a lot of problems a new pair of shoes can't cure) and then something else happened, my nerves were shot and I began praying class would get cancelled that night. I grabbed a veggie pita from McAlister's (back when veggie pitas were cheap and came with parmesan peppercorn and they didn't have all that extra stuff on them that took away from the basic tastiness) and a big old cup of unsweet tea (another un-Southern thing about me).
I got home, still sipping on my tea when my neighbor came up to visit (the one who could have her own book I have so many stories about her). I told her about my yucky day and we decided the next best thing to new shoes is new clothes.
I don't think that worked either.
When I got back home again, to get ready to go to the class that never got cancelled, I saw my McAllister's cup sitting next to my Southern Comfort and the world began to make sense, once again.
I made myself one of my famous Scarlett O'Hara's (drink recipe to follow) in the McAllister's cup and I was off to class.
I think the class had to do with women in the workplace because there was a lot of debate about whether or not women should work and how women who work are perceived.
Others would say it was the Southern Comfort broadening my horizons, but I know what really happened was another raw nerve was struck that evening and the Scarlett O'Hara kept me from totally losing it. I remember the only time I participated in class was to announce how disgusted I was that women who are open about wanting to work end up getting called feminists and sometimes even femi-nazis, both in the derogatory sense. What's up with that?
My fan club, watching to see how I handled my liquor, burst out laughing.
I quit drinking at break so I could be sober for the drive home.
I may have been crazy enough to drink during class (that one time), but I knew my body. I knew just how much to drink to keep me from losing it, but not get me in trouble.
Scarlett O'Hara (a.k.a. SoCo and Cran)
Ingredients:
Southern Comfort
Cranberry Juice
Ice
Lime (optional)
Directions:
Fill a stadium cup with ice
Pour about 1/4 to 1/3 full with SoCo
Fill with cranberry juice
Blend by transferring mixture into an empty stadium cup a couple of times.
Drink with a straw to keep red from getting on your mouth and teeth!
Garnish with a lime (optional)
