Princeton: The Puerto Rico of the Ivy League

Everyone knows that certain sacrifices are made by those who go to Ivy League schools: 40 grand a year, lots of work, frequent episodes of sleep deprivation. Another sacrifice, one that is often overlooked, is the subjecting of oneself to the cold winters of the Northeast. Princeton, however, is the Puerto Rico of the Ivy League. As the second most southern of the eight we, my friends, are fortunate.

For many upperclassmen, the walk to the Street is one of the day's most dreadful events. Because we have been spoiled by dining halls so close to our rooms that we could pee on their front doors from our dormitory windows, the 10 minute walk to the Street feels almost like a marathon. In the springtime, however, this walk becomes almost pleasant. Round objects fly through the air, and students seem happy as they go about their daily business with North Face backpacks instead of fleeces. Though our friends at the Tiger Inn may not be serving Beast on Saturday nights these days, they sure know how to take advantage of the warm weather to use their front lawn.

Speaking of front lawns, you also know it's springtime at Princeton when the bikini-clad girl with the great rack starts laying out in the grass while pretending to research for her thesis. It's a humorous sight watching dozens of skinny freshmen walk out of Dillon, roll up their sleeves and flex their three-inch biceps as they strut past her.

In addition to being the most tropical Ivy, Princeton is arguably the most sporty one as well. Spring only accentuates and glorifies Princeton's jockhood. Crew and softball trophies are fixtures of Princeton athletics, and students love to huddle around kegs and grills at lacrosse tailgates. Harvard athletes sweat profusely when the Orange and Black appear in their nightmares. Do they even play sports at Columbia?

Penn has Spring Fling and Cornell has Slope Day, but they're living in fantasyland if they think their little weekends of fun are anything like Houseparties. We'll spend our weekend hanging out in mansions, sipping beer and eating delicious food. Then we'll spend all of Sunday listening to the likes of the Gin Blossoms, Maroon 5 and Jurassic 5 in the backyard of Quad. I hear that the best concert they have each year at Yale is when the Wiffenpoofs win the Annual a Capella Sing-Off. Sound exciting? Nope.

And just when you thought all was said and done, the Princeton school year culminates in the most wonderful tradition of all: Reunions. Unlike Brown graduates who are too stoned to remember that they went to college, many Princeton grads love to come back and celebrate every single year. From current freshmen to the 65th year tent, Reunions is the most unifying, school-pride-building three days I can imagine. And if you've ever seen a more wonderful sight than hundreds of Princeton graduates dressed up head to toe in orange and black suits with tiger-striped ties, let me know. That will be me someday, and I'm damn proud to say it.

So while our friends at Cornell, Harvard and Dartmouth continue to plow through snow and dodge massive chunks of hail on their way to class, we will continue to promote our stereotype by strolling around in pink polo t-shirts, plaid shorts and flip flops. They'll still be singing Christmas carols and sipping hot chocolate by the fire for another month because at the other Ivy League schools, it never gets warm.

So take a day off and head out to Yankee Stadium for $5 ticket day next week, play a few rounds of golf at Springdale or hit up the Jersey shore on a Friday afternoon. I'm not planning on wearing a jacket for another six months. I don't know about you, but I didn't come to Princeton for the academics. I came here for the weather. Neel Gehani is an ORFE major from Summit, N.J. He can be reached at ngehani@princeton.edu.