Of all the glorious facets that make up my Violet life, the one that garners the second most envy points is the three day weekend. C'est vrai, we don't have Friday classes, and, as long as we stray away from those pesky chem labs and enormous, recitation-requiring lectures, we never will. Come Thursday at 3:15, our work week is over, but before you too get all green-eyed, we'd like to say that three successive responsibility-free nights come with varyingly heavy prices. We youngsters have yet to master the art of social drinking; imbibing is still a means, and the end is often ugly. Thursday night all is roses --double shots of Georgi all round! Friday night we've gotten over our a.m. declaration of abstinence, but did somebody bring the chasers? And Saturday night...Saturday night just hurts. We're talking mixed drinks, and slowly. We may not make it out at all, we think. Let's have a girl's night in and watch Real Housewives of Manhattan reruns and get take out from the Hummus Place. And then girls night in turns into girls and boys night in and boys need more than pinot gris and don't find RHM amusing after the first two minutes, so out we go again. Oh yuck, we mewl, bacchus why must thou play the serpant? But then again, this is our last hurrah; we have four recovery days a'coming, might as well go out with panache.
Cheap Shots anyone? Really, though, we're curious as to how all you post-grads manage. What role does alcohol play in your lives? Star? Guest-star? Cameo?
Girl-dancing-to-iPod-in-back-of-bus? And when(if at all) did you make the decision that taste mattered more than percentage?