Illustrated By Nathan Yaffe
By Hallie Cantor
After months of slaving away on a treadmill in some depressingly fluorescent indoor gym, it's finally easy to exercise without wanting to die. Pickup games of Frisbee and soccer are everywhere, leading you to a sense of community, new friends, and strangers thinking you're a real athlete.
What is it about spring that makes people want to hurl projectiles back and forth between each other? Even if you choose not to take part in the game, you'll probably encounter that weird moment when you're innocently walking by and the ball/disc lands right in front of your feet and you have to do an embarrassingly poor job of passing it back to them. "Uh, here you go. Oh, it's actually further away from you now. Sorry."
Wearing Less Clothing
You get to look at everyone else practically naked. Woohoo! Look out, other people's lower arms, shins, and décolletage, because here come your peepers. Plus, you can spy freely since you too will be unencumbered by bulky layers of clothing. Go ahead, shove that atrocity of a winter coat under your bed and don't pull it out again until next November when it's woven shut by ten layers of dust. Yes. Feel that breeze on your skin? That's called freedom.
Everyone gets to look at you practically naked. And you do not look good practically naked. Also, you're cold. The stupid sunshine makes you think you can wear shorts and tank tops, but it's still like, 40 degrees. Spring weather is deceptive, like a poop covered in yellow paint that you don't realize is a poop till it's in your mouth. Although honestly that one's kind of on you for putting a mysteriously lumpy yellow object in your mouth.
Spring is the season of new beginnings and fresh starts. You can finally throw away the hideous orange scarf-and-gloves set your aunt gave you for the holidays, along with all the other stuff you felt too guilty to get rid of until now. As the cherry blossoms bloom, so too will your productivity and cleanlin- Holy shit, you can actually see your floor under all the dirty clothes now.
Wow, do we really need to talk about how cleaning sucks? It's like coming up with debate points about how stop signs are red or how sloths are cute. Honestly, discussing the matter any further would be an insult to your intelligence. Goodbye.
If school holidays were high school kids, Christmas would be the weird super-religious one, President's Day would be the nerd, and spring break would be the hot, popular kid. There's even movie about it with James Franco in it, so you know it's cool. James Franco only likes cool stuff, like weed and Judd Apatow and making Anne Hathaway feel embarrassed at the 2011 Oscars.
If spring break is a hot popular kid, it's the hot popular kid who flirts with you just enough to keep you interested but makes fun of you for wearing Old Navy sweatshirts behind your back. Spring break gives you one tantalizing week of almost-warm-enough fun in the sun and then sends you right back to classes as soon as you start to relax. Fuck you, spring break. Summer's hotter anyway.
Ah, the pitter patter of raindrops against your windowsill, a cozy lullaby that sings you to sleep, floating through a dreamland of appreciation for being indoors. But don't worry, if you're stuck outside, you can do that thing where you stick out your tongue and sing "if only raindrops were lemondrops and gumdrops" and try to catch the drops on your tongue. It's adorable. People love that.
Not unless you're five years old they don't. It's beside the point anyway, because you don't have time to walk around with your tongue out like a gaping imbecile when you're trying not to catch pneumonia from being pelted with droplets of cold water ten times per second, then walking around with wet pant legs for the rest of the day. Rain sucks. Duh.
Like listening to music for the first time in months, it's easy to forget how important color is until you see flowers where once there were only snow and black branches. Bright flowers remind us that the world, like your deepest soul, is in a constant state of growth and flux. Also, you can give them to people you're romantically interested in and they will lah-oooove it for some reason.
Yeah, flowers are beautiful. Ah-choo! What? Oh, thank you. Yeah, I guess I have some spring allergies. But it's no big ah-choo deal ah-choo. I mean, so I sneeze a few times here and there- sorry, I have to go grab a tissue, this is getting gross. Okay, I'm back. What was I ah-choo saying? Ah-choo. Right. Allergies are totally manageable ah-choo with ah-choo over-the-counter ah-choo medication. Ah-choo.
Concert, festival, carnival - whatever it's called, your school probably has an annual springtime tradition where people celebrate the season by getting high, wearing bright colors and crowd-passing a beach ball around. Music, laughs, friends. I mean, I shouldn't have to explain to you why these things are good. Unless you're an alien. Are you an alien? Because that would be fine with me, just so you know. I have lots of friends who are aliens. It's really not a big deal, man, you don't have to feel weird about it.
Little known fact: spring festivals on college campuses happen to be the #1 preferred mating season for douches. Those are the people wearing the blinding neon tank tops and shutter shades, even though it's 2013 and shutter shades haven't been cool since just kidding they were never cool. They directly hinder the ONE THING glasses are supposed to help you do and it's infuriating.
Going to the Park
Only great stuff happens in parks: Dogs prancing around, cute kids flying kites, family picnics, old people doing tai chi, couples lying in each other's arms and pointing out clouds shaped like teddy bears. Being in a park feels like you're living life the way it should be lived: like a character in a commercial for tampons, erectile dysfunction medicine, or anti-depressants.
Okay, you kind of have a nagging feeling that everyone in parks is having more fun than you. There's dog shit everywhere, kids are screaming, there's no good spot to sit down because all these families have brought like 12 blankets to their picnic, those old people smell like old people sweat, and your significant other keeps looking at their phone instead of gazing into your eyes and talking about the clouds. Also, you think you're getting mosquito bites. Already.
Even though classes are still technically "going on" for a few more months, it becomes pretty much acceptable starting in April to not do every last piece of your homework. Or go to your classes. Or do anything that isn't sitting on the quad with a water bottle full of vodka and sweet tea, playing a drinking game you invented where you drink every time the Ultimate Frisbee team makes a good catch.
Weirdly enough, your teachers keep assigning you work. Like, more and more work, as if it's all leading up to a finals period when you'll have 8 tests to study for and 6 papers to write. Oh God. Oh God. Why did you spend all of last week on the quad drinking whenever the Frisbee team made a good catch? First of all, that's way too subjective to be a good drinking game. Second of all, you're fucked.
It's Almost Summer
The beach. Patios. Cold beers. No school. Barbeques. The 4th of July. Suntans. Summer flings. Warm nights. Sundresses. Summer movies. Longer days. Swimming. Popsicles. Ice cream. Iced coffee. Freckles. Grass. Water guns. Rooftops.
Living at home. Summer jobs. Having an internship. Not having an internship. Sweating all the time. Mosquitoes. Your thighs sticking to chairs. Sunburns. Missing your college friends. Swimming pools with pee in them. Dehydration. Packing and unpacking your stuff. Poison ivy. Humidity. Frizzy hair. Hot garbage.