Spring distractions are everywhere. And frankly, for all we're tempted with, I think we ought to receive extra credit just for being able to stay focused.
Let's start with the obvious distractions. What symbolizes spring in D.C. better than a mass of adolescents impeding the path to the Metro fare gates as they wait for stragglers to catch up? I mean, seriously? When I see tourists in D.C., I think, "Surely I'm not this bad when I travel places." And with all humility, I'm not. If I was, I'd probably stop traveling.
Every American should come to D.C. to experience our unique history. They just need to remember to bring their brains with them. If I get stuck one more time behind someone feeding exact change into a fare machine for their $1.70 ride to the Smithsonian Metrorail station, never mind they're going to ride 10 more times before they leave, I'm going to lose it.
That said, spring Metro ride horrors nicely complement the obligatory trip to see the cherry blossoms at the Tidal Basin. There's something oddly calming about quietly taking photos while tourists are reprimanded by the National Park Service for picking blossoms off the trees for their babies, their hair, their obnoxious children, and on and on. Though after Saturday's wind, I'd be surprised if any blossoms we're left. But here's to hoping!
In fact, some aspects of spring 2009 are just plain inconvenient. It's almost as though this spring is tired of the normal disturbances, and has planned some special distractions that go above and beyond.
Case in point: I went to work in the library, and ended up watching the construction workers toil away at the new School of International Service building for nearly an hour. Every time I recommitted myself to writing my essay, the movement of the tower crane would catch my eye, and I'd be drawn once again into the exciting action of pouring concrete and tying rebar. I swear, watching the SIS construction is like crack - you just can't stop. I've even come to recognize different members of the crew ... which is pretty sad.
The library is made worse by the wretchedly fine weather, which seems to be best when I'm stuck in class. Every spring, AU awakens like a bear from hibernation, as countless people you've never seen before make an appearance in your life. The other day, the quad was absolutely packed full of people playing Frisbee and sunning themselves - where have these people been for the last six months? I'm quite certain most of them are actors hired by AU to make us seem more collegiate during admissions season.
But fine weather isn't all daffodils and kittens: there's always someone who confuses the front of Mary Graydon Center with a beach, and decides to bronze up their body in time for mini-skirt season by wearing practically nothing as horny high-school seniors walk by and try to determine if AU is still their first choice. The verdict?
Needless to say, we're not completely alone in spring distraction. Last Tuesday, as I grappled with stubborn Ward building windows attempting to let in a warm, spring breeze to my 5:30 p.m. block class, I was instructed by my professor to re-lower the blinds, since it would only taunt her with the images of sun and freedom throughout our entire class period. We left the blinds open.
What's my point? Despite the tourists, the Metro, and all the other distractions, spring in D.C. is pretty amazing. Even as I finish writing this column, the windows are wide open, the sun is shining in, and it's going to be a struggle to go back and edit before submission. It's not too hot out, not too muggy - it's pretty damn near perfect.
So don't let the complaints or distractions get to you. Get out and enjoy springtime. It's freaking fantastic.
Carl Seip is a senior in the School of Public Affairs and the AU issues columnist for The Eagle. You can reach him at edpage@theeagleonline.com.
