This past week, I came home from a long night of work – tired, cold and starving – only to… This past week, I came home from a long night of work – tired, cold and starving – only to find that my worst nightmare had occurred.

My kitchen had been taken over by gorgeous, half-naked, foreign women.

And I’m not just talking about any gorgeous, half-naked, foreign women. I’m talking about the purest breed of the female species – Victoria’s Secret models.

That’s right, my friends. They were everywhere. And not just wearing their typical lingerie attire, either. They were wearing bikinis in our 20-degree house. And they’re still there. They won’t leave.

Adriana Lima stares at me from the front of the refrigerator with her mean, seductive glare. Gisele Bundchen has found a home on the outside of the cupboard where I store my pasta, stuffing mix and Chef Boyardee. Heidi Klum adorns the walls, her Perfect 10 body constantly mocking me.

I’ve tried my best to ignore them. In fact, that first night I arrived home exhausted and hungry, I was able to look past Adriana and open the refrigerator. I could even push Alessandra Ambrosio to the side, as she fluttered inside the refrigerator, to grab the leftover burrito I had so lovingly placed in the fridge for this usually perfect moment of satiation.

But my resistance began to wear as I crossed the kitchen and once again encountered Alessandra and her perfectly flat, love handle-less mid-section on the outside of the microwave. Honestly, can’t you find your own home and leave me alone, you gorgeous, starved women? Put some clothes on, for crying out loud, it’s cold in here.

Then I took a liberating sense of satisfaction in opening the microwave and symbolically shoving a fattening burrito down Alessandra’s throat before slamming it shut and hitting the power button. Take that, Alessandra. Fat tastes good, doesn’t it?

So what possessed these supermodels to take over my kitchen? Well, nothing on their part. Although I’m sure they’d be flattered to find themselves plastered on the walls of a five-girl college home, rather than a frat house. Yup, we invited them in and asked them to stay permanently – well, at least until spring break.

And while I may not have had a part in posting them on our kitchen walls, I distinctly recall considering it a great idea and supporting the operation wholeheartedly. What, then, possessed us to do this? The supermodel takeover was preempted by our decision to go on a Pitt-sponsored spring break trip to Florida.

Now, understandably, spring break sparks a desire in any college-aged student to get fit and swimsuit-ready by early March. Nothing new here. But my roommates and I have really applied the self-pressure this year. We made a conscious decision to nix the idea of jetting off to a remote location in the Caribbean or even heading to the hills for a skiing trip with countless coed strangers. No sir, we decided to join hundreds of our classmates on a road trip to the beach.

And that means hundreds of our classmates that we see around campus every day are now going to see us half-naked at the beach. With the arctic chill that has been infiltrating Pittsburgh over the last couple months, we’ve been applying more and more layers of clothing rather than taking them off. Who’s ready to go bikini shopping?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all about getting beach-ready, and I could use a little self-discipline. I eat horribly. I could probably eat a burrito every day, three times a day, if I could afford it. And under those layers of clothes I’ve been piling on, my body is paying the price. It’s time for a little fine-tuning.

But where does a little self-discipline end and just plain ridiculousness begin?

After one of my roommates told a friend about our supermodel takeover, the friend suggested that my roommate not worry so much about food intake, but rather start smoking instead. Who needs to count calories? Go smoke a pack of cancer sticks. Life’s short.

Balance is important. So if you’re getting ready for spring break, do so in moderation. A couple crunches never hurt anyone, and ditching some of the heart-unhealthy food you’ve been eating makes you feel more energized. Regardless of what shape I’m in by the time we hit the beach, I know that this spring break is going to hold some of the greatest memories of my time at Pitt.

Time for lunch. I think I’ll head to the kitchen and have some low-fat cottage cheese and chat with Adriana and Gisele.

Have your resident supermodels been hiding the Ben and Jerry’s? E-mail Jessica at [email protected].