The joys, the worries of spring

Spring break is here, and finally! The scuffed boots, the scratchy scarf and the down-to-the-ankles trench coat (not creepy, warm) are in the closet for good. After five frigid months of scowling at Cali friends' away messages ("What a gorgeous sunny day in January; I think I'll study outside!"), I'm ready to use that shades-wearing emoticon myself.

But after my initial hurrah, I hesitate. Perhaps nineteen springs have soured me into ambivalence. Spring is indeed when the slush melts, the grass grows, and Bambi is born — but do I really want to trade snow fights for pollen wars? While "studying" for exams this week, model student that I am, I made a list:

1) Advantage: Bright, fresh flowers.

Disadvantage: Filthy, rabid squirrels.

2) Advantage: Everyone wears less clothing.

Disadvantage: Everyone wears less clothing.

3) Advantage: The days are hotter.

Disadvantage: You are not.

I ended up with a ranked list of why I am dreading this spring. First and foremost is self-explanatory: the powerful and unpredictable Iraq. Or perhaps I should say George W. Bush. Enough said.

Second is the now-that-it's-sunny-my-body-must-be-perfect mantra. Looking at others' plates, a slice of bread has never made me feel like such a pig. Spring is marked by rising. Not just in libido or temperature, but also in gym attendance. Mirror consultations. Tearful, kicking, livid tantrums at the dryer because dammit, it is shrinking all your clothes.

Thomas Nashe, 16th century poet, said, "Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year's pleasant king;/ Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring . . . " How blithe. He's obviously not a female living in the age of tube tops. Spring's imminence makes people anxious like only corporate recruitment, American Express statements, and cockroaches can. In case you didn't get the memo, here it is: FLAB, NOT DEATH, IS YOUR WORST ENEMY. Right.

The third drawback to spring is that seniors, who once had the time for luxuries like showering, can no longer be found. They're not in their rooms. They're not in Frist. They're not in the library. Seniors are, in fact, at a top-secret, undisclosed location where students without theses, those aggravatingly relaxed young'uns, cannot bother them. It makes you wonder — are they still your friends? Do they know that spring is here? Will they emerge for the pollen wars?

Get the best of the ‘Prince’ delivered straight to your inbox. Subscribe now »

But then again, maybe spring — with its flowers, squirrels, and disappearing clothing — won't be so bad. Isn't it about capturing "flights of fancy and turning them to thoughts of love" or something like that? (What an optimistic, if not completely delusional, theory.)

In reality, at least taking walks will be pleasant, especially in Hamilton Courtyard, the fountain area near Robertson, and Fine lawn (who knew a math building could be romantic?).

So maybe reading The New York Times won't be fun this spring. But most appealing is the food I'll eat — like picnics of watermelon, crispy fried chicken, and lots of cold sweet lemonade. Perhaps a gym visit won't be in my immediate future, but to fully enjoy spring, I'll still be breaking out the tank tops.

Julie Park is a sophomore from Wayne, N.J.