My experience in the Florida wetlands was anything but damp. It, being spring break, was actually quite dry — boozing wasn’t allowed.

Yes, it was an odd way to spend a vacation: sleeping in bunk beds, sharing a co-ed bathroom with seven others, and eating breakfast before the sun rose. Prison and Alternative Spring Break are the only institutions that could legally force such deprivations. I was captive in the latter.

I’m not really sure why I paid to volunteer. Picking up trash, carrying heavy fences, and painting Park Rangers’ houses was far from glamorous. But whatever, I’m glad that I went, because when I returned to Philadelphia, I felt fab. (And it wasn’t because I’m a community service whore like many ASBers. I don’t get off on giving. Like most people, I get off on getting.)

I just felt accomplished to have just spent an entire week with a group of my peers without the presence of illicit substances. We actually hung out — co-ed bonding, omg — and didn’t drink, smoke, do coke, or hook up for seven entire days. (God created Earth in seven days.) That doesn’t happen very often, especially at Penn. (I’m referring to sober boys and girls, not the story of creation.)

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