It’s the time of year when layers of clothing are shed like layers of unnecessary flab and it seems like that homicidally depressed senior you know is finally beginning to smile (eh, maybe it’s just the Valium). Yes boys and girls, spring is here. Here in the upper limits of the American north, we’ve withstood everything from Terror Alerts, to seemingly inevitable war, to two weeks without cluster munches. So, as the frosty emotions and memories melt in the microwave of spring break, I think it’s appropriate to reflect on the term by pretty much blowing up everyone’s spot. It’s fair to say that almost everyone in my dorm got his game at a relatively hardcore level. Jayme Mendal ’03 could be heard most nights screeching out the lyrics to “Total Eclipse of the Heart,” in an attempt to con some girl in to coming over. Beau Frecker ’04 was no stranger to romance. B-Freezy used his cherubic good looks and his sparkling clean room to woo some ladies into romance (or at least an awkward 20 minutes at the Blue and Silver). For those not lucky enough to drown in the kiddie pool of romance, there were always standard issues like ice fishing and hockey. To summarize the new recreational hockey league, let me just make one comment: RYAN MCCHRISTIAN ’03 LOOKS AWKWARD, BUMBLING AND HILARIOUS SKATING. On those dreary February afternoons, many PA kids got busy with their pillow and drifted off into dreamland. In my dreamland, I’d be hanging out in the coolest club in NYC with Nelly, Justin Timberlake and Tobey Maguire. Across the dance floor I’d spot Mandy Moore and the game would initiate. Navigating my way across the dance floor with JT-taught dance moves and poppin’ a bottle of Moet, I’d finally spot Mandy and flash a sly smile. But just when the swerve would be ongoing and the Vitamin-McG would be flowin, my ex-lady, the girl from Alias and Daredevil would run up in my grille and start talking smack. “But Jennifer,” I’d say, “we had so much romance together but can’t you see that we need to move on. I’ll never forget those nights in Madrid but I need to go in a different direction.” “Oh McG,” she’d say, “how can I move on when all the other guys in the club are incomparable to your irresistible style. You gave me something so magical and I need you back.” Mandy would be chillin, overhearing Jennifer’s desperate pleas for re-McG-ification. Mandy would then say, “Girl, you need to back off. Evan is done with you, you never treated him right and I know how to appreciate him.” Jennifer, infuriated and emotionally drained, would then strike Mandy and the two would fight for my sweet lady-ship. Unfortunately, the dream would end and most times I’d wake to Artie Mittnacht ’04 and Craig Ferraro ’03 booty shaking to Destiny’s Child’s “Survivor” right next to my bed. I now have serious trouble sleeping. In fact, whenever I hear Beyonce’s voice I get Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Aside from residing in dreamland for most of the day, winter term brought colder weather, lackluster movies and lame outfits for everybody. Honestly, being a senior boy does not give one the right to buy a pea coat. You have no idea how lame you look rocking some 200 dollar leather jacket or pea coat underneath your little brother’s monogrammed LL Bean backpack. Just wear a black North Face like everybody else. But now winter is soon to be in our rear view mirror as this senior glides into spring. I’ll probably halve my G.P.A, start a dangerous drug habit, and ruin my life… but at least I’ll get a lawn chair. If I were a lame Features writer I’d insert a ‘holla’, but since I’m so mature and sophisticated, I’ll just say “word to your mother.” Anyway, for the seniors, we’ve done the equivalent of slaying the dragon, escaping from Alcatraz or having breakthrough in group therapy: We’ve made it to Senior Spring. Take the rest of the term to finish strong and chill over spring break. I’d like to conclude with what I think is a fitting quote from Nate Dogg, “Hold up, heyyyyee we gonna relax till the wheels falls off/ hold up, heyyyyye to all my classmates thinking we soft/ we don’t playyyy/ hope you ready for the next episode, heyyyyyyeeyeye….cut class everyday!”
