Spring break begins this week. Some students are going home, desperately hoping to show their high school classmates how cool they’ve become since coming to college. Some, like me, are going to spend the 2 weeks or so on a caffeine binge in the desperate attempt to finish some semblance of a decent thesis. Indeed, no matter where one goes, desperation seems to be the name of the game.
I spoke to three sophomore ladies outside of Olin about their spring break bonanza. These girls plan to travel thousands of miles to Daytona Beach, Florida. The plan is to spend the majority of the two weeks getting drunk and hooking up with anonymous partners.
“I’m, like, so looking forward to getting away. It’s just the same thing every weekend at Wesleyan.”
“Seriously, dude. Like, it’s just like, get drunk, hook up with someone and then go home. Daytona’s gonna be sooo much cooler.”
“It’s gonna totally rock!”
Yes, boys and girls, these desperate girls are flying to a warmer climate to get drunk and hook up with other desperate college co-eds looking to get drunk and hook up. This haven of hedonism does not come cheap. Figuring costs of room, food, alcohol and treatment for the inevitable contraction of genital warts, these three sophomore girls will be spending several hundred dollars for these two weeks to enjoy the company of students just like them, same age, just as desperate. Only in a place other than Wesleyan.
Other Wesleyan students will be traveling to snowier climates to go “skiing” or “snowboarding,” all in the name of “fun.” Now, for me, a fun time is playing scrabble or twister. For my colleagues going skiing, fun consists of lumbering around in unwieldy snow gear, ascending to the top of a windy, cold, wet, snowy mountain, and trying to make it down to the bottom without dying. Yes. Snow sports are kind of like that game that the Aztecs used to play: Either win or die. At least for the Daytona girls, they’re going to a warmer climate. Why go someplace colder and grayer than Wesleyan? Haven’t you’ve experienced enough misery? In skiing, fun means not dying. That’s kind of fucked up, if you ask me. But what would I know? I’m just a nerd who gets excited over downloading “Endnote.”
Leave a Reply