For Cornell students, Thanksgiving is more than just an opportunity to spend time with family, eat a home-cooked meal or reflect on the things in our lives for which we are most grateful. It’s also a much-anticipated — though teasingly-brief — escape from the increasingly depressing atmosphere of pre-finals Cornell to the kind of stress-free relaxation that can only result from free laundry and vacuumed floors. Right about now, many Cornellians are starting to slip into that self-pitying state when 60-degree weather is long-gone and spring break seems so far away it might as well be at the vet school.

Now, this may come as a shock, but here in the frozen Ivy League depths of Cornell, we don’t exactly have the same college experience as our friends over at schools like Indiana, Miami or Arizona State. While we’re working on problem sets in office hours or studying for our next prelim in Mann Libe, other members of our generation get to tan by the pool, barbeque at sunny football tailgates or even just wear tank tops without worrying about frostbite. For them, it seems there are unlimited opportunities to party, while for us, come winter time and prelims, it’s goodbye fruity cocktails, hello Uris Library Cocktail Lounge.

Maybe I’m just a little cynical, but when someone tells me about some great deal where I can get this $60-value for only $29.99 plus a free limited edition Ronald Reagan Tribute Coin, my first thoughts are, “What sucks about this, and why is it so easy to get?” When things are very available, it usually means they aren’t that great. Because of this concept, it is generally agreed upon that the most attractive girls are also the most “hard-to-get.”

Along with being at the top of his class, the stereotypical Cornell-bound high school senior enjoyed the perks of being at the top of his “game.” He could easily impress the younger girl(s) of his choice and had suddenly become the only age-appropriate dating option for his graduating female counterparts. When he was told that 13,655 students attend Cornell each year, what he actually heard was “6,828 girls to pick from.” What his pre-Ivy League education did not help him realize was that for every eager freshman boy like himself on Cornell’s campus, there are three older, more accomplished and experienced upperclassmen competing to attract those same girls.

I wouldn’t really say that my four roommates or I are sluts. Of course we’ve enjoyed just as many rounds of tonsil hockey as the next group of hormonally-charged college girls, but we are each sexually selective in our own right. Each one of us has a unique set of qualities we find attractive, ranging from preppy-metro guys with Zach Efron haircuts to furry little Jewish boys with really big … cars. Having been rather proud of our individual choosiness, I was shocked when I learned that, between the five of us, in our just two years at Cornell, we’d collectively hooked up with 60 different people.

Raise your hand if you were also excited about the reunion of the Spice Girls this summer. When I heard about it and saw their new picture, in which they actually look really pretty and normal, it meant one thing: feminism is back, and this time with a new and improved attitude. No longer are the Girls exploiting their sexuality in flag-emblazoned booty shorts, or trying to fit a superficial mold of “baby” or “sporty.” Now they’re just normal girls — well, maybe except for Victoria Beckham — being themselves and doing what they love to do.