People, will always ask two questions, well three,
Do you work at Tulane? No. They won’t have me. Could you imagine? I’d be like fired 50 times a day. I cause too much consternation. But with some of the inane Wilson Center and Gibson Hall decisions it does take work to be a Tulane fan, that's for sure.
Your husband is a Coach at Tulane? No. Coach Hullabaloo was formerly known simply as Mr. Hullabaloo until our game against UCF in 2009. Mr. and Mrs. Hullabaloo traveled with the team to dreary Orlando and Coach Toledo was still on this kick of refusing to hire a Special Teams Coordinator. And Toledo was allowed to carry on this charade by TPTB mind you. for years. Anyways, Mr. Hullabaloo was so excited to get to be on the sidelines so he went out before the trip and bought himself the same golf shirt the staff wears and the same baseball caps so he could look like an "official person" and not the husband of a lunatic SuperFan. When I posted the picture of Mr. Hullabaloo on the sidelines on Facebook, one of our friends exclaimed, “Yay! We have a Special Teams Coach!” So it started out as a joke to call Mr. Hullabaloo “Coach” and well, now here we are today and the name has just stuck. So now he is my Coach Hullabaloo. and I love him so.
Did Y’all Go to Tulane? No. Mrs. Hullabaloo is a graduate of H. Sophie Newcomb Memorial College, thank you very much. And Coach Hullabaloo went to a lovely college in the valleys of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Where, he likes to point out, students did not take their laundry to dry cleaners or have housekeepers come clean their apartments. or take a job solely to fund manicures and pedicures twice a month. And seriously, if Coach Hullabaloo and I had gone to college together, I would have never graduated! Coach Hullabaloo rocked his college time as a fraternity member and bar tender at the “in” bar there. His roomates were also all bar tenders at the other “in” bars. They used to host rent parties in their disco-lit basement and charge admission to help pay their rent. He also used to book little known bands, like Dave Matthews (pre-1994), and organize music festivals. It was bad enough of a distraction that I would cut class to paint banners at the sorority house (priorities!) or because I was recuperating from a night out (or yes, sometimes to avoid that awful on again/off again “fling” who continued to aggravate my college life by declaring my same major). So God, thankfully saw to it that we both carved our paths at different institutions of higher learning, barely claim diplomas and then serendipitously meet in the bathroom line at a Halloween house party years and years later.
Coach Hullabaloo would like it noted that we was NOT a Delt nor a Sigma Nu. Sworn enemies apparently at his college with these two groups.
Mrs. Hullabaloo was at a sorority function last night - yes, I graduated but that doesn't mean we stop being members. We just have more casual functions on occasion with other alumnae members. Last night's was fabulous, we had massages and make-up makeovers at a shop owned by one of our alums.
So one of our newer alumnae members is from Ole Miss and was the sweetest! She is a recent graduate from one of our chapters at Ole Miss and she reminded me that their deferred rush week is happening right now in Oxford. So there will not be much of an Ole Miss student contingent in New Orleans since it's Rush Weekend. Peggy will be sad, as will I, because we will miss getting to see some of the get ups that some of these girls wear for a football game. I'm not talking about a nice dress and cute sandals - I mean like some of these outfits for the game in 2010 were crazy. They weren't trashy or hideous, they were.....overdone. a lot overdone. Lace backs, sequins, rhinestone bangles, cut down to there. For a football game. And more make-up than you can shake a stick at in a Sak's cosmetics department. I had to laugh because one lady's attire was so over the top, that my Razorback friend Char commented, "Now, that, that is...riveting"
Peggy, being the ever prankster, dug out one of her mother's old carnival ball shell blouses for the next home game. You know the sequined ones that you can pair with a ball gown skirt? She pulled up to tailgating in that get up and we were just hooting with laughter!
So the other day, I ran across this genius blog set up by current Tulane co-eds titled We are the W.E.. They post all sorts of cute articles about the REAL Tulane student life. Cautioning freshmen newbies on where to be seen, which guys are the total package,how to attain that globally envied Tulane skill of getting your tasks completed and still have a social life (priorities!). Some things are still the same: Weekends start on Thursdays, but they no longer start at The Rendon Inn, pit stop at AT's and end at Fat Harry's or Igor's. And they still go to the beach for spring formal, except now they go all Martha Stewart on us and handpaint ice chests like these for their dates.(and stock them. Mrs. Hullabaloo would like it noted that I never, once, purchased beverages for a date in college. As it should be ladies. Sets a dangerous precedence. Marriage is about give and take and Coach Hullabaloo likes to say that I have perfected the art of him giving and me taking......)
Anyways, the girls of W.E. kindly linked up to Cooler Connection on Facebook to give their readers ideas for this new Tulane tradition and I have posted some of my favorites here for you to admire.
I loved some of the ideas, like painting the view of your football field from your seats. Or trimming the edge with your fight song. And I simply loved making the drink cubbies a "girl" and "guy". So clever!
Anyways, Ole Miss is upon us. We are as ready as we are going to be, Chandelier in tow!
Roll Wave my chamudis!
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