A eulogy to the spring break plans that never stood a chance
Emma Lee | Contributing Illustrator
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Dearly Beloved,
Thank you all for coming. You all look terrific in black, by the way. Except for you in the front. I know it’s a funeral but that doesn’t mean you have to look like death. Anyways, we are gathered here to honor the short life of my original spring break plans.
If you knew my original spring break plans (which I’m sure you did, because I never stopped talking about them), you would know that they were better than everyone else’s. Picture this: me in a bikini sipping a piña colada while I watch the sunset in Cancun. Now that you’re done being a creep who pictures innocent women half-naked on the beaches, I must remind you that these plans are no longer with us. It breaks my heart to say this, but my original spring break plans have passed away.
I’ve replaced my spring break fantasy with something more — how should I phrase this — financially feasible. The moment I looked at my bank account, Cancun became my parent’s house and my piña colada became the one glass of red wine my parents let me have with dinner.
I’m not upset though, because I know my spring break plans are in a better place now—that place being someone else’s reality. I can’t wait to live out my fantasy vicariously through other people’s Snapchat stories. You, in the back wearing black — don’t be shy on social media during this week away from campus. Post everything, because sad people like myself are itching to see what Punta Cana actually looks like. If you’re going somewhere warm, I want you to post so much that I develop carpal tunnel just from clicking through one day of your vacation. I want you to post everything from the sunsets to what the toilets look like in your mildly expensive resort.
After looking at several consoling quotes on Pinterest, I’ve decided it’s best to move on, despite the absence I feel in my heart. Life without my original spring break plans can’t be that bad, right? My parents have HBO Max, and they have explicitly promised me I only have to watch five sad documentaries with them while I’m home. Since my parents moved away from my hometown and chose to settle down in North Carolina, I have no friends to go home to. But that’s okay, because last time I visited a nice man on the street said he would love to spend some time with me. He seemed nice enough, or it could just be that southern charm people keep telling me about.
For all of you who still have your original spring break plans, hold them tightly tonight for me. Before you take a shot in Mexico, pour one out for me. While you shake your ass on the dance floor in Miami, think of me at home in North Carolina. Before you ride that water jet ski in Jamaica, think to yourself, “Wow, that humor columnist is probably on her fourth weirdly depressing documentary by now.”
On that note, thank you all for coming. There will be no refreshments served after the service. Not because we’re cheap, only because this is a fake eulogy.
Published on March 8, 2023 at 11:32 pm