Spring Break. The big ol' SB. Could also stand for Sun Burns, Sexy Bods, or Skimpy Bikinis. And sometimes, to our dismay, (dun dun dunnn)—Sagging Bums.
For the few that are venturing to the tropics for spring break, the next two weeks herald the beginning of an insatiable and frenzied quest for physical perfection. And as temperatures escalate to toasty 55-degree proportions here in Madison, many face one frighteningly frank fact: the sun's coming out and their bodys aren't ready for its close-up.
So, what's a college student to do when that ""extra sauce on the side"" of their late-night slice goes straight to their waistline?
Well, it depends on whom you ask—and what their major is. We all know one of life's finer truisms: ""Thine's major is thine self."" Not only is it the sole defining factor of our personality, but it also dictates our future and other seemingly inconsequential aspects of our life, such as how many bananas to buy at the store, to drink from the big cup or the little cup and the number of bowel movements we'll have in a week. And whether we like it or not, the department we so choose to dedicate years of classes to also dictates our diet and workout regimen.
Welcome to The Major(ly) Ass-Kicking Spring Break Work Out:
English:
9:45 a.m.: Brew a cup of tea while balancing one leg on a lounge chair and one arm on a wine-stained copy of ""Ulysses."" Eat half of an [organic] blueberry scone. Crunch up the rest and serve it in the bird feeder outside your bedroom window.
11:15 a.m.: Power-walk to the humanities building for class while contemplating whether the title of Hemingway's ""The Sun Also Rises"" was intentional foreshadowing, or just for effect. [Brain Food]
5:00 p.m.: Toss some porcini mushrooms, tomatoes and onions on the stove. Climb two stairs to yell at roommates for blasting ""that vapid, rhythm-less, Metallica shit.""
5:17 p.m.: Consider killing yourself [like your girl Virginia Woolf], but decide to find solace instead in two bottles of wine, some cognac and a shot of whiskey [Fitzgerald was an alcoholic genius]. Write some prose. Pass out.
Engineering:
7:45 a.m.: Run five miles on the treadmill while reading last week's lecture notes on microprocessor peripheral devices.
10:00 a.m.: Buy a celery, beet and carrot smoothie from Jamba Juice and walk to class at engineering [four miles]. Consider buying a cookie from subway—don't.
1:35 p.m.: Go to the bathroom four times during lecture to achieve minimal water-retention and maximal stair climbing.
2:00 p.m.: Buy a ham and cheese sandwich at the café and discuss with friends the fundamentals of rheology and the various physical and mechanical aspects of your seven-grain bread [maintain rapid arm gestures for optimal energy expenditure].
6:15 p.m.: Jog home from the engineering building [nine miles]. Consider switching majors—don't.
Psychology:
10:15 a.m.: Suppress all urges to eat two Pop-Tarts and a bowl of Cocoa Puffs for breakfast. Grab a yogurt.
12:10 p.m.: Bike two miles at the gym. Feel a sense of failure as you catch a glimpse of the chub around your stomach. Remind yourself that you are in control of your life, and any distorted feelings of self-worth are actually misinterpreted cognitions.
4:45 p.m.: Eat two bowls of chicken soup and a cracker.
4:50 p.m.: Project your anger regarding your bland diet onto your roommate as she has, once again, left the cap off of the toothpaste.
7:35 p.m: Walk 0.4 miles to the grocery store, pace the vegetable and candy aisle and condition yourself to reach for the tomatoes, not the Twizzlers.
Journalism:
9:55 a.m.: Drink coffee with skim milk, calorie-free splenda and the online version of MSNBC.
12:25 p.m.: Shuffle feet in lecture as you consider the tasteful objectivity of The New York Times and Fox News.
3:15 p.m.: Type [200 words per minute] a resume that, despite your solid GPA and prestigious honor societies and awards, will wind up in the cabinet behind the fridge of a newspaper company's greenroom.
4:00 p.m.: Eat two pieces of whole-grain toast, walk to class and sit in the aisle of the last row to ensure optimal ""getting-up-to-let-those-latecomer-pieces-of-shit-in"" procedure.
7:15 p.m.: Consume two bowls of cereal and ten sentences of your 120-page reading. Remind yourself that everything you need to know, you learned in kindergarten. Sleep.
Communication Arts:
12:25 p.m.: Wake up, miss class, walk to the bathroom [.02 miles].
2:15 p.m.: Walk to Vilas for class, get lost somewhere between room 4107 and 4208, give up and venture to the food court for mango-flavored frozen yogurt.
4:10 p.m.: Go to third class and debate the cultural and socioeconomic significance of the talking candlestick in Disney's ""Beauty and the Beast.""
5:15 p.m.: Walk back home [0.5 miles], watch ""Dexter"" and be grateful that one of America's leading modes of entertainment media is in your room, 40-inches and in high def.
Have another step to add to your major's regimen? Let me know at gleicher@wisc.edu!
