The days have all been getting shorter, while consequently the sun has been going down later and later, for The Day approaches. It's a day that, while you aren't always aware of the exact date, it lingers in your mind for months and months. Maybe even from October forward. It might not be on the tip of your tongue when you're talking to your friends, but you all know what's going on behind the curtain; we certainly can't be such fine actors that we all hide it. When The Day finally comes, it seems surreal, like it was always just around the corner. Now that it's here, nothing is the same.
Everything from this day forward is different. It just...feels different, smells different, tastes different. There are more clinical more pointed words to describe what the day itself is, but what lingers more is the feeling. This is a day you remember for some time. It's a day without care, forethought, or pants.
It's Spring Day.
Spring Day is the first true day of Spring in Boston. Now you can say, "well it's been nice out for a couple of weeks, and the first actual day of Spring was a week ago you non-calendar-reading dope." True, and I do hate calendars, which is why I never put up Zack's move-in gift the 2007 Extreme Ironing Calendar. But has it trulybeen Spring? No, it was New England's attempt at the season, which goes as follows:
Go outside in the morning and it's 45 degrees, even though it says the high will be 68. "Impossible," you say, since this weather holds through Noon. Suddenly at 2 pm, it's 64 degrees, prompting you to stop on your walk and take off your hoodie and put it in your backpack or bag while you sweat constantly down your pant legs. You go to class and walk back home but the sun is low, causing shadows that feel like your marching to lay eggs in Antartica while Morgan Freeman does voice over for your actions. Shade moves and you're sweating out 68 degree heat again. Even though there is no sun, the night can stay anywhere between temperate and "fuck this" cold. Finally, it's time to go to bed and it's 30 degrees out, causing you to bundle up before waking up in the morning in yet another pool of sweat. This is less of a "warm season" and more like water boarding.
Spring Day is the first time where it's warm from when the day opens until deep into the night, and involves a leap of faith that almost everyone is willing to take. While guys can break those shorts out of hiding, it's a whole other ritual for women. It's as if they are finding some catharsis for six months in leggings, coats and scarves, making up for lost time. As you walk down the street, there are sun dresses, low cut shirts, and mini skirts in all directions. Everyone is happier, more fun, attractive, funny, personable. Spring Day is also not just for the upper crust of attractiveness, as it makes everyone just much more attractive. Ugly face? Great legs! Freak arm that bends the wrong way? Cute smile! It is some sort of carnal and peaganistic "fuck you" to winter in New England. We beat you, we survived, and look how little clothes I can wear!
Being the journalistic watchdog I am, I decided to go outside and check out Commonwealth Avenue and BU's campus to live blog the day's events. Except that I just typed up little notes on my cell phone and I'm writing about it a few hours after the fact. But it's close to live blogging, and I don't think there's anything creeper than going out with a laptop on a beautiful day, sitting around on the grass, and reporting--in real time--what people are or aren't wearing. Instead, I'll merely tape delay it, and therefore feel like a normal person.
10:30 AM - Well, nothing going here. Could I have guessed incorrectly? Was I too optimistic? Sigh. There are only some capri pants, which are just a ridiculous idea. How indecisive a person are you where you can't decide between shorts and pants? Has anyone ever said, "well, my ankles were really warm today while my thighs were freezing, but thankfully I had my capri pants for this perfect intersection of comfort, clothing, and weather." I'll accept them on mothers over 40 and girls under 10, who are undoubtedly influenced by their mothers in clothes selection. I refuse to accept them on males in any condition, European or not. You should be more sensible.
11:00 AM - On the T, see some shorts, a low cut shirt, but that's about it. Every male is wearing shorts. Sorry women, this day doesn't seem to be equal for you. Another thing to add to the list whenever a man brings up how painful it is to be hit in the crotch. For some reason, women as a group just cannot allow men to get away with discussing how much pain is involved when hit in the genitals. There must always be a follow up on how bad it is to be a woman involving child birth, periods, getting hit in the breasts. Add "Spring Day oggling" to the heap.
12:27 PM - It begins!
12:46 PM - The BU Beach is a curious place. For those not in the know, BU's campus is mostly along a strip of Commonwealth Avenue in Boston from about 500 Com until 1019 Com, and the only strip of grass is located in the middle of our "campus." The slang term for the patch is the "BU Beach" because if you lay down on the grass and hear the cars passing on a fairly major road just next to the grassy knoll, it supposedly sounds like waves at a beach. I prefer to think it sounds like cars on a well-traveled road because that's what it fucking is.
The Beach on Spring Day--and many days after--is just littered with humanity, looking like a refugee camp for the Hamptons. Stretching as far as the eye can see, there are lush greens and pale whites desperately trying to eviscerate their skin cells until it becomes a lovely mocha. I cannot slight those girls who go to get their fake tans (right above a sushi place, so you know it's quality) and have a rolling start when the season begins. Hope the cash was worth it because now you get FREE sun.
There are also guys just peppered around, talking to no one in particular on cell phones as they take a slow 360 degree turn to let everything in. They will also slowly bike by and errantly throw a frisbee around. It's quite pathetic. But then again, they aren't writing about it, let alone in a time-specific manner.
1:05 PM - There are three Yeah Dudes hanging out at the top of the hill, shirtless, and trying to get some attention. Yeah, ok. That works. Another reason why Yeah Dudes/Dude Bros ruin everything.
What is potentially shocking is that two of the most sexually promiscuous days of the school year are now days apart. Spring Day is today, and then Marathon Monday is...well, this Monday. Hold on to your hats, folks. And by hats, I clearly mean prophylactics that merely look like hats.