I didn’t know what a straightener was until 2005. I moved into the sorority house in the fall of my junior year. I bought one and have been using one ever since. Gasp, that means I survived Rush with just a blow dryer. Aw, the inhumanity of it all! Living in the sorority house meant sharing a room with a roommate that contained your clothes, computer, personal belongings, and sleeping in a sleeping porch (basically a room with nothing but beds). The bathroom had multiple showers and sinks. We watched a lot of Sex in the City in those days in the sorority house from DVDs borrowed from a sister. All of a sudden, the guys I dated got nicknames like Carrie’s men. Once upon there was a “John” and another time a “Bartender”. Real names were not used to protect the guilty. I didn’t call long distance until after 9 PM when it was free. There wasn’t much texting, and Facebook was only available if you had an @bama.ua.edu or any other college address. You weren’t checking Facebook on your phone because it was probably a flip phone, a crackberry (my favorite), or a Razor. Pictures were blurry at best on your phone, and no one was posting their life story online- only a bunch of “poking” and writing on people’s walls. I miss old Facebook- no politics, just college fun.

Going out meant jeans and/or jeans skirt with a spaghetti-strap shirt, think The Hills from MTV. Game days meant cocktail dresses with heels, with flip flops in tow. We frequented the original Houndstooth, then the Red Shed when it came into town, the Booth, Venue, and, as freshmen, the Jupiter and 4th and 23rd. Wednesdays after chapter meant half wine and pizza downtown at Cafe Venice. Thursday nights were for El Rincon. One margarita would kick your tail. Some weekends, you went to Harry’s for a crazy bucket or to Nick’s in the Sticks for a Nicodemus and an $8 filet.

The Fall was the best time of the year at UA, even in the pre-Saban era of many coaches named Mike. You went to the game- you wanted to be there- win or lose. It didn’t matter. Homecoming pomps actually covered the front of your house and not some small side piece. You worked stuffing those holes in that chicken wire like your life depended on it as freshmen. Being an overall winner in Homecoming was a big deal in my sorority. We lost one year to another sorority and were mad. All I can say is that particular sorority had a ringer- daughter of the legendary Joe Namath; he rode on their damn float. All we could do to console ourselves (which was petty) was to say she looked like Joe, and that provided some type of solace. I apologize, Joe, and to your daughter. I cannot be held responsible for my 19-year-old self.

Formals meant Zaps and decorating a cooler and/or cup for your date and you. Pregaming happened before the bus, on the bus, and most of us slept on the way back. Chants at parties between classes were a thing.. Here’s to the Seniors, the Seniors in hopes we get laid! We were classy.

I met some of my closest friends back in those days, and I still talk to them today. Every time I do, I am transported back to Dixie Land Delight, Sweet Home Alabama, and Sweet Caroline. I am walking down sorority row, headed to class, at a bar with friends, or eating at Buffalo Phil’s because they take dining dollars. I am yelling “Roll Tide!” praying for a win and singing “Yea! Alabama!” I am eating at the Crimson Cafe (dining dollars), City Cafe, or the Waysider. I am dreading standing on a chair trying to clap in time with a dress on and doing a damn door song. I’m learning from my favorite professors in my favorite program in HES.

I’ll never forget my time at the University of Alabama. I’m grateful for that experience, and as the days count down to the Fall, I will remember a time and a place. I’ll smile. I’ll text my friends from those days. I’ll thank God for them. Roll Tide and yea, Alabama!