the sun and the sand and a drink in my hand.

In 17 days, I will be on a plane headed to our Spring Break destination.  As excited as I am, I can’t believe it’s so close. We booked this trip back in the beginning of October, and March 15 seemed sooooo far away. Now it’s frighteningly soon.

We’ve all joked throughout the semester that it’s “__ Weeks to Bikini Body,” but it’s really not as comical as one would think. I’m going to the gym as much as I can, and suddenly I’m worried that I’m too pale to be seen in a bathing suit in two weeks. I’m translucent to begin with, and the fact that most of my skin hasn’t seen sunlight since August isn’t helping. One of my bikinis is white and it’s hard to discern where the fabric ends and my skin begins. I’m already anticipating being sunburned, so I’ll make sure my wardrobe coordinates with red.

As excited as I am about white, sandy beaches and an ocean that looks turquoise, there is so much for this anxious girl to get through before then. Packing is the bane of my existence, and I’m not lying when I say I’ve been thinking about what to pack since we booked the trip. My Spring Break Checklist is getting freakishly long, and I’ve been making myself loco trying to plan my laundry in order for everything to be ready to go.

Then there’s the flight. I’ve only flown twice in my life, and during takeoff on my first flight when I was 16, I had a full-fledged panic attack. Many people have told me that air travel is safer than driving, but there’s just something so unnatural about a large, heavy, metal object being suspended in the air. I’ve even worked for an aircraft manufacturer and I still don’t understand or embrace travel via airplanes.  Our flight is fairly early in the morning so I’m hoping I’ll be too tired or running on a crazy adrenaline rush to have another panic attack, because there’s really nothing better than hyperventilating in front of the 20-something other people you’re going on Spring Break with.

Once I’m safely on Dominican soil, things are going to get a lot better: an all-inclusive resort and 80-degree weather.

seasonal anxiety

I usually hate spring. I don’t know why, but something about the snow melting and the ground thawing and the trees budding does not appeal to me. I’m a fall and winter kind of girl, so the transition into warmer weather is always hard for me. Since coming to college, the anxiety of spring has grown significantly, knowing that each time the weather gets warmer, another year is over and I’m one step closer to the real world.

I try to stall the season change as long as I can – I won’t wear shorts until it’s at least 70 degrees out, I picket against the wearing of sandals (although that’s a whole other story,) I refuse to do outdoor-related activities and get very sanctimonious about not participating, etc.

So someone please explain to me why this year I want the weather to get warmer. Maybe it’s the deluge of snow we’ve received in the past month and a half; maybe it’s the fact that for a few weeks it was never higher than 20 degrees outside; maybe it’s because I’m off to the Dominican Republic in less than a month…I honestly don’t know. All I know is that I just spent the past 75 minutes of my World Religions class staring out the window at Route 9, wishing the snow would melt and I can retire my North Face for the season.

It’s funny, because I shouldn’t want spring to come this year. Not only does it signal the end of another academic year, it signals the end of my academic career. The dreaded g-word is 100 days away, (thanks for that terrifying email, Career Services!) so I should be wishing for an arctic blast of winter to prolong the inevitable.

Who knows, but maybe I’ll be less sanctimonious this year about outdoor events : )

rant and rave of the day 2/11/09

(It’s back! But don’t guarantee it’s going to become a daily feature…)

Rant: The germs that are running rampant on campus. People are literally dropping like flies with the flu, bronchitis, mono, strep, or sometimes with a nice grab bag of illnesses. I got a flu shot like a good girl back in October, but as last February’s post-flu shot bout with the flu proved, vaccines aren’t always effective. Now, pass the Purell and cover your mouth when you cough.

Rave: String cheese. I bought this delectable dairy snack on a whim last month, and now I need a constant supply of it in the fridge or else I get nervous. I also need to protect it from my friends, who are very generous in helping themselves to my cheese. (Just kidding, guys…you know I love to share.) My new favorite snack really does nothing to help my “5 Weeks Until Bikini Body” lifestyle that I’m trying so hard to adhere to, but I could sit there and pull string cheese apart all day long.