Spring Break is coming, even if you may not be

Well friends, we have finally, nearly made it to Spring Break. After more than sufficient bitching about Fall Break being one day off instead of the usual two that we oh-so-rightfully deserve (screw you, leap year), the second mid-semester reprieve has rolled around, not a moment too soon. 

Yet perhaps in the panicked haze of all your Red Bull-fueled late night essay writing sessions (spiked Yerba Mate-fueled 11:59 p.m. Moodle posts, I mean), you have forgotten to make plans for this most eagerly awaited week. Gasp! With how you have been marking off the days on your Instagram story countdown, one might have thought this desired date was going to rival that trip to Italy you went on with your grandparents when you were 10 and will not shut up about. Instead, you now face an intimidating stretch of time you must make the most of, because how else would you show all those assholes from high school that you have been Straight Up Thriving?

Lucky for you, I have compiled an expert list of Spring Break plans in which you are sure to find something that tickles your fancy. Whether you like a lavish week of sunbathing on beaches (oh my god beaches? Sooo funny you say that, this is reminding me of the time I went to Italy!) or hibernating in a nest of dirty sheets, empty Dorito bags and your ex’s Disney+ subscription, this last week of March has something special in store for you. 

Bougie on a Budget

Have you been lusting after the Spring Break of the movies you saw about college back when you were 13 and did not know that wine spritzers do not come in spray bottles, but Cancun is out of your budget? Fear not, humble citizen. Simply roll up to the delicatessen of plastics that is your average big box store and load up the essentials: one (1) kiddie pool, f(n) lawn chairs, f(n) beverages, f(n) silly straws and (optional) one (1) plastic flamingo. “N” being the number of people you commune with — there, I dredged up high school pre-calc to throw in a joke for you math majors. 

I have since been informed by another editor that my math is “not correct.” This is what happens when you let English majors out of Miller. My sincerest apologies to Isaac Newton’s ghost, Maya Mazor-Hoofien and my uncle who wanted me to be a chemist.

Depending on your budget and whether you have taken Econ 100, you have a few options. You can shoplift said items (I bet that “retro” jean jacket you stole from your dad’s closet could hide a kiddie pool), take out a bank loan (filed under your sugar daddy’s name, of course) or actually buy them with your hard-earned money from those morning Bon shifts (I speak from experience. It is a dark time emptying cantaloupe from giant buckets at 7 a.m.)

Next, set up your haul on one of campus’s many lawns, invite your friends and camp out with your feet in the pool and a wine spritzer in hand (look how far you have come!). Soak up the blissfully temperate 65 degree Portland spring and bask in your luxurious frugality — you can practically feel the warm sand of the tropics between your toes. Oh wait, that is the Costco sized Fun Dip that Derek spilled in the pool. Same difference!

(Warning: You may need to fill up your kiddie pool in a dorm bathroom. It is okay, I promise. You will not get as many weird looks as you did when you gave your cat a mullet over the sink.) 

Full Worm Mode

Is social interaction feeling like too much work? Is the joy of seeing the sun again fading now that you have to put on sunscreen? Is the prospect of leaving your residence hall burdening you with the soul-crushing weight of human existence? Simply give in (said in a reassuring and empowering tone). 

There is no need to succumb to the pressures of FOMO; instead, build your own FOMO (Free Of Motherfucking Obligations). Stock up on frozen pizzas and do some teeth exercises to strengthen your molars so you can chisel away at that rock-hard pepperoni without having to warm it up in the oven like your average wimp. Build a blanket cocoon and crank up your box fan to the highest setting to stave off heat stroke. 

Most important of all, leave your laptop plugged in 24 hours a day so you never risk it running out of battery, lest you be forced to use a typewriter by candlelight or some other caveman shit. The possibilities on this magical screen are endless: binge watching Love is Blind, DMing the long distance lover whom you have never met or playing some video game I have never heard of because apparently I live under a rock (fine, I love typewriters and candlelight too, you got me!!).

Please Get Me Out of Here

Neither of these options making your timbers shiver with excitement? I suppose I can pull out one more idea, likely with the success that most pulling-out attempts result in.

You have made it to the end of this article because you have an itch for traveling that has not been scratched by a plastic flamingo (or because I am hilarious and charming, that is probably it). So, let us get off Palatine Hill in whatever way suits you. Plane, train, even the back of a motorcycle if you insist on being that sexy.

Maybe you have deep pockets and can fund that Miami AirBnB you have had your eye on. If so, please bring a swimsuit. “Any beach is a nude beach if you are naked” is not a great policy in a state with more retirement homes than unbanned books. 

Maybe you play it closer to home and take a jaunt up Mt. Hood. After all, lodging is free if you are willing to sleep on the ground. College Outdoors kids will either lend you a foam pad or teach you how to love the backaches — it hurts so good! Other perks of camping include: Pooping in a hole gives you ripped squatting muscles (what are those, quads?), Bon food will taste amazing after a week of freeze dried soups and nobody will be around to hear the weird-ass sex noises you make with your polycule. 

Alternatively, get a friend who has tons of extended family scattered around the country and stay with them. This will be my third time spending Spring Break with my roommate’s aunt, and it is not even the same aunt! How many does she have? The mystery continues to unfold. 

If you decide to go this route, I highly recommend buying tiny plastic babies in bulk to hide around your host’s house. The power trip of imagining a woman you just met emptying her ice cube tray to find a small toy infant now floating in her diet Coke is unmatched. 

So there you have it, brethren of Lewis & Clark. No matter how you spend this ever-so-special blip in the chaos that is the sprint between midterms and finals, I have the surest confidence you can find something to brag and/or complain about. After all, how dare they take away one day of Fall Break? We should get two weeks for Spring Break! A month! You know what, let us just go home for summer now and call it a year.