Flashback Friday: Not Classy

May 13, 2005
Okay – for the second Friday Flashback, I’m about to disclose the stupidest, most asinine, most ridiculous, most horribly embarrassing thing that I have ever had my name linked with – I say “linked with” because my best friend, Kathleen, is also involved, proving that the minds of these TWO women were not even enough.

And that is sad.

(We hadn’t even started drinking or smoking pot yet at this point – which makes it EVEN WORSE.)

Cut to the spring of 1995. Or maybe it was Fall 94? I’ve blocked it out, I’m sure. It was my first year at LSU – but I’d already been a semester – or maybe two . . . (Remember, I did start drinking and smoking pot somewhere between then and now – so I can at least have an excuse . . . NOT that I do any of that now – especially the drinking, since the Beanie’s here and all . . .)


Kathleen and I decided to schedule classes together – not a great idea. Kathleen and I were the ultimate slacker team. You know what happens when 2 sloths converge? They skip class and go to Gatti’s for pizza buffet – sometimes FOUR TIMES A WEEK!!! In any case, we signed up for Econ 2030, because we had to take at least one Econ to fulfill our requirements.

The class was in the CEBA building – which is the most convoluted building you’ve ever been in. It was the “Bermuda Square.” Some genius built one side of it and then said, “Hey, let’s build another side right across from this one connected on either end with 2 identical hallways, with a garden in the middle, that’s exactly like this one with nothing to differentiate from the side we’ve already built! Wouldn’t that be awesome?!?”

I remember seeing someone’s homemade cartoon posted outside of their office – it was a crude drawing of a labyrinth and underneath they’d written “Map of CEBA”.

Anyway – we went to the class on the first day of course. We weren’t that bad, you know? Then we probably went three other times before the midterm. We were there long enough to get the syllabus, the teacher’s name and goof off while taking a few notes.

Anyway – the midterm was approaching and so the weekend before, we headed over to the campus bookstore to finally purchase the course book for the FIRST time, which we would share.

We were perusing the aisles in the econ section and I couldn’t seem to find our teacher’s name under Econ 2030. In fact- none of these books looked like the book she’d held up on the first day of class.
“This doesn’t look like our book.” I said holding up the Econ 2030 book. “I don’t even see her name under any of these sections.”

“HERE it is!” Kathleen said – holding up the “correct” book.

We both looked at the little card under the section she’d grabbed the book from.

QBA 4121

QBA? What is QBA? I’d heard her say it maybe, but I thought . . . but I thought . . .

Then it hit me all at once.

OH MY GOD!!! QBA is Quantitative Business Analysis!!!! AND this one is a graduating senior level class!!!

That’s right friends . . .

We’d never even been to the right class. We’d been attending the wrong class (well – not attending really) for 2 solid months.

I immediately burst into tears – fearing the wrath of my father and the ridicule of the guidance counselor. And most of all – we weren’t even partying! We lived at home with our parents and went to bible study and skipped class to eat and play piano in the music building.


So – I swallowed my pride, I looked up the name of our correct teacher and I did what any college girl would do – I made Kathleen call her at home while I stood next to her and wept like a baby.

Miraculously, she let us in. She was foreign, so I don’t think she completely understood just how stupid we were (or perhaps Kathleen made up something while I was lost in my weepfest). So we started at the midterm. She even let us take some of the tests we’d missed.

Of course you know what we did. We still skipped. And then for our first makeup test – we stayed up all night popping No-Doze and “studying.” We went in the following morning, high on the false confidence only no-doze can give and left that test exclaiming:


We’d both failed it. Miserably.

In the end – my final grade: D.

Hers: F.

And so- there’s the stupidest thing I ever did.

Mention this again and I’ll cut you!

9:12 a.m. ::
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