hell has nothing on homecoming

You hear the word homecoming and you probably think high school dances with your current boyfriend who you will 'totally be with, like, forever' and your dress you and your friends went out and bought with your saved up birthday money and an entire paycheck from best buy when you were a cashier there. It was going to be a magical night where you danced with your sweetheart and planned your future, all with your closest group of friends nearby...

Or you think of college.

You remember beer.

You remember puking in the backseat of your friends cousins girlfriends car and then being fine the rest of the night, but still getting the stink eye from her for the upchuck.

And you remember something about tailgating and then blacking out...

Now that I work for the U Homecoming takes on a whole new meaning.

I never thought of all of the behind the scenes work that it took to run those events.

Alumni see all of the hokey school colored bologna....they don't seem to remember that it probably took the staff MONTHS to plan the events.

This year we started the advanced planning in January.

No fucking joke.

My department heads up some of the biggest events on campus that weekend.

We have a Homecoming Gala, a large parade and an even bigger tailgate where we give away food for free.

And the staff member that typically handles them all is...on maternity leave.

So we chopped up her duties and we each have something new to tackle.

Mine = the Homecoming Gala.

400 people.

Seated dinner for all.

U President, U trustees and other various U important people.

Decorations.

Dealing with stupid alumni who have trouble understand simple instructions.

And its in two days.

15 hour days are calling my name...

Which means that, generally, in two days I will have some of my life back.

Exciting, no?

But in the meantime I pretend that I want the football team to win. I pretend I care how many people show up at the tailgate tent. And I also care that our alumni aren't happy. Even though I went to my U's rival school I pretend that I don't care what they are doing.....as if.

I wonder what ever happened to my old high school dresses that I just had to have...they are probably a nest for some baby opossums up in my moms attic at this point. At least my hard earned 16 year old money is still being put to good use.

And at least they were not puked on.

By me.