Mind Your Manners, Bitches

...and always say please and thank you

NOLA

The trip I'm about to recap may have happened over a month ago, but that is 100% okay with me because the memories from that weekend are so vivid (well...the haziness and overall blur of Bourbon Street nights are vivid, as much as that sounds like a complete contradiction) that it feels like it was just yesterday I was stumbling tanked through the Philadelphia airport shouting at DAllan to buy me a water...that I promptly chugged in four seconds flat.

It's hard not to fall in love with New Orleans (or in New Orleans - ha!)...so much charm, beautiful weather, gorgeous architecture, steady flows of alcohol, top notch cover bands, the works. We were technically sent there to represent SJU at the American Marketing Association's Intercollegiate Conference, but regardless of obligations, this annual shitshow is a continuous rager, and one of my best memories of the past four years of college.

When we arrived, it was pretty much Katrina part two-ing outside (Too soon? Ups!). It was such a bummer, especially because last year the weather was 80+ degrees and sunny. Paradise. But that was irrelevant because it was still 80+ degrees, and the rain didn't stop us ladiez from boozing it up at the ripe hour of 2pm. First stop: Pat O'Brien's for authentic hurricanes and good ole cajun food. The best motherfucking shrimp and grits. For seriously.

Graceful traveling just ain't happening. Fresh off the plane look - sexy.

Once we were sufficiently tipsy enough to confront our overly enthusiastic fellow conference-goers, we picked up some necessities for later that night (read: cheap vodka and pretzels), and crashed on the super comfy beds until it was time to go to the opening ceremony. Blah blah blah that shit was boring. We didn't go out that night, partly due to the hurricane-like weather conditions and partly due to traveling sucking ass. But we made up for it the next two nights, boy did we ever. We pretended it was my bachelorette party. I'm pretty sure I don't need to say anything more than that...

Party hardy dudes.

No one really cares about the marketing conference, right? Good, we can skip that. Except for the fact that I fell in love with Michael McCullough of the Miami Heat, and Nate Riggs is still a big creeper. We ate po-boys, ohmygod so good. I got crawfish, so authentic of me. Megan and Molly got catfish, whootys love bottom feeders! That shit is so delicious. And so were the bottles of hot sauce and ketchup that we stole, and the tall boy Nattys we snagged at Walgreen's for $2. Perfection. We wined and dined at Emeril's, where we indulged in some supa swanky famous banana cream pie (YUM) on DAllan's tab. And of course we got beignets...at Cafe Du Monde...where i met a couple from Buffalo. So typical.

In a nutshell, Krazy Korner is the greatest bar on the face of the earth, and the absolute highlight of every New Orleans trip. The greatest gem of Bourbon Street. I left my heart in KK, where the beers are 3-for-1, One Night Stand plays the greatest hits, the creepers are plentiful, and the entire place is crawling with filth. Needless to say, our feet were black every night when we got back to the hotel. But it was work every god damn second.

Let us please take a moment of silence to appreciate it's beauty.

So pretty much I love New Orleans and no matter when I get the chance to go back it won't be soon enough. I met a great group of girls who I normally would never have encountered on campus, we spoke at one of the workshops at the conference like total BOSSES, ate like queens, partied like rockstars (or complete maniacs, your choice), and ignored the body's necessity for sleep. One of the best weekends of college, hands down. Thanks DAllan, for being a true peach and making NOLA perfect once again. Love you, you sexy sexy man.

That Dreaded Question

Being a senior in college, approaching graduation day, gives me a little bit of deja vu. Brings me back to senior year of high school when everyone's parents, family and friends would ask that dreaded question: "What school are you going to next year?" (Thankfully, I went to a high school where over 90% of my graduating class went to college after graduation, or else this question would have the potential to be a lot more awkward). At this point, a lot of us had already committed to schools, but the majority of ma peeps were still undecided...had no effing clue where they were going, what they were studying, what they were having for dinner that night. So now, four incredible years later (the best years of our lives?), that dreaded question is haunting us once again: "What are your plans for after graduation?" My answer? Fuck. Off.

What's with all the pressure to dive right into the real world (it even sounds daunting), to start a full-time salaried job the week after getting your diploma, to be a slave to that 9-5? Sorry I'm not sorry, but I am 21 years old. I have at least another 45 years to develop a career, to work five (or more) days a week, 50 weeks a year, no summers off, no spring break, no long weekends, no personal days when I feel like skipping class, no university-sponsored trips to Las Vegas or New Orleans. What's the rush?


I understand the excitement about getting a job offer. I envy you. You will no longer be broke as a joke, taking advantage of free pizza during free periods (who cares, or knows, what meeting you're at), begging for money, pinching pennies, being behind on rent. Yeah, it will be great. Maybe I'm being a baby, scared of change, but whatEVER. I would rather take some time off, and, for the last time in your entire life, enjoy the freedom and flexibility that you have while it lasts; take advantage of your student discounts and mornings off, binge drinking and bad decision-making. After all, that drinking habit after graduation is no longer "college," it's called "alcoholism."

So as an alternative to the real world, I'm once again putting my procrastination skills to good use in coming up with ways to postpone full-time employment for as long as possible. Whether it's the PeaceCorps, grad school, or just simple a "year off to travel," I will do whatever it takes to fight the reason I've spent the last four years in school: getting a job (and not living on my parents' couch). Because it's not that I can't get a job, it's that I don't want to. So stop asking, leave me alone, and enjoy your life being trapped inside a windowless cubicle. But please, send some of your real person salary my way, because we sure as hell know I'll be needing it...