Spring break odyssey, day 5: Miami Beach
This spring break, we decided to take Spectrum along with us to wherever we’ll be. Some of these tales are fictional, others not so far from the truth. Either way, it’s up to you to decide. In this installment, Spectrum takes Miami.
I think I’ve discovered a special kind of sorcery.
All last week, through midterms and stresses and computer malfunctions, any time I said the words “spring break,” “Miami,” or “beach,” my body and mind relaxed. It was magic. And now I’m here in Miami, away from school, and as much as I love Liz’s Place, this place has a magic of its own. Spring break, my friends, means no worries for the rest of your week.
Well, OK, not… not exactly. But last week, I stressed over my midterms in a freezing classroom. Now, I get to stress over midterms with a textbook on my un-tights-laden lap, with sun flooding through my porch window, or by the pool, soaking in rays and listening to nearby people throw their cares into the ocean. It’s a beautiful thing, really: I have a ton of work to do, but the burden isn’t big enough to block my shoulders from getting tanned. Last week, I lost hours of sleep challenging my friends to QuizUp. Now, I’m showing those suns of beaches who’s boss while digging my toes into the sand. Last week, I watched TV with the impending doom of my procrastination catching up with me. Now, I’m watching TV with the impending doom of my procrastination catching up with me. But, you guys, “spring break”!
I’m also a first-year, so my opportunities here are limited. I don’t have a fake ID (I barely pass for the age I actually am), and I’m a little too awkward for a spring break fling with a stranger from some Spanish-speaking country (not that I’ve run the situation through my mind), so the extent of my spring breaker-dom has been watching “Love Actually” with friends while snacking on stale Pringles. Minus the stale Pringles, I am VERY okay with this. I also had a really good piece of pizza and a great glass of grapefruit juice on Monday, which should count for something. My friends and I did find a blog post suggesting we pay homeless people to buy us alcohol, but given that we don’t care enough and don’t see other human beings as our minions, we decided to stick with grapefruit juice.
On one side of my porch last night, the full moon shone on the ocean with haunting beauty; on the other side, the city glittered with nightlife; and at my kitchen table, I continued studying for my psych midterm. Maybe someone, somewhere in this city had such a crazy night they didn’t remember it the next morning. I only hope I can remember the definition of “glial cells” next Thursday.
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