Hasta La Vista Freshers

First year is finito and all I can say is thank god it doesn’t count.

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Once upon a time, about 10 months ago, a little girl rolled down a driveway with her parents to a land of drama queens and stud kings, nasty, regrettable nights and suicidal hangovers, oh and a load of international students. Little did she know that her flat would smell of noodles 24/7 and that bullshitting made up 90% of her final marks, even her Nigella-esque cooking skills came as a shock….yup.

Freshers fortnight happened, lectures happened, reading compulsory texts didn’t happen, wikipedia substituted, Jesters happened, puking happened, paracetamol ran out, good things happened, bad things happened, parents wouldn’t answer my skype calls.

A lot of other stuff . 

The End.

Jokes. I’ve got 2 more years.

However, I did learn a fair few things about myself. Not exactly in a soul searching kind of way, more a ‘oh right, ok’ kinda way. So here’s my reflection on first year and some important life lessons I learnt whilst in the fresher jungle.

1. A cardboard box was my most loyal friend

Semester 2 I acquired a cardboard box, it sat in my room for abut 4 months. The box witnessed ups and downs and did not spread my deep dark secrets to any visitor of the room. In March or April, after a very squashed weekend of 5 people in my little room I knew the time had come to pass the box on to a better home. Facebook was my marketing platform, I tweeted Simon Pegg and Miranda Hart asking if they wanted my box that was being sold with donations going to Comic Relief, I don’t think they had much money to spare and were embarrassed about it because they didn’t reply. The box went on ebay and after 400 views it sold for £2.60 or something. It was picked up and apparently went straight to the recycling tip. Dear winning bidder, you are not forgiven. 

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Always in my heart

2. I am Welsh

The Six Nations Championship confirmed this for me (and if you have Halfpenny coming from your country you embrace it). It also adds a mystical element to you if you come from the valleys and have managed to avoid the funny accent. Cue sheep jokes and some interesting questions. No, I don’t need my passport to cross the English border. 

3. I’m a Jesters fan and proud

Jesters is the dirtiest, stickiest, smelliest, most toilet-blocked club in Britain and I love it. Bad things have happened there, throwing up in the toilets was pretty bad, throwing up in the seating area was worse. The dance floor is more of an accidental mosh pit, full of sweaty boys waiting for the Baywatch tune for a chance to strip off and show their products of cutting season. When my newly legal brother came to visit Jesters was the first stop and the night ended with him dressed as a tiger puking in a corner. It’s a social haven, a hunting ground (cringe) and the best part is you probably won’t remember what goes on there…unless you wake up with evidence.

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Jim Jam loving life with someone

4. Laid back is an understatement 

Every essay, bar one possibly, was finished at least half an hour before they were due in. They were probably started 4 hours earlier in the day. However, I work better under pressure. I can’t say there were any firsts being produced from my mix of Wikipedia and the thesaurus on a Word document, but I kept up a fair amount of decent 2:1’s. I realised I’d much rather be watching videos on how to style my afro (I don’t have an afro) than learning Old English grammar or Freud’s influence on absolutely everything.

I did not give a shit when giving a shit was not necessary and I enjoyed the majority of my week unlike a few tweeters who i think have started planning their dissertation already. Net year I’m going to be the chill pill dealer.

 

5. If you don’t remember don’t ask

This relates back to Jesters….and every other club in Southampton that I drunkenly graced. If I woke up one morning and was greeted with a ‘hahaha how’re u feeling this morning xxx’ text it was best to not question the mobile lols and just tell them how much your head hurts. The thing is, you will be reminded of your antics until someone does something more stupid so don’t ask for a full blown report of your stupidity, just wait for the comments to roll in and shrug them off one by one.

 

6. No regrets. YOLO

Worst trend that seemed a big hit down South. You Only Live Once. Kinda ruined my hope of being reincarnated as an eagle but something worth thinking about when you do stupid things, which became quite common (see 5.) You can’t dwell on them or bring yourself down with regret. When you do that you end up in a glass case of emotion (thank you Anchorman). Re-thinking how you could’ve avoided the vodka shots and eye contact only leaves you stuck in the past. Stupid things are put in place to make you less stupid, university is like those annoying tyres in an obstacle course, if you can’t put your foot in the hole you’re meant to, don’t bother. You can’t please everyone, don’t bother. Do what makes you happy. Deep. YOLO. Piss off.

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Not everyone’s a Mother Mary or Jesus

7. Clothes are an inconvenience

If going to lectures was less of a ‘Southampton’s Next Top Model’ competition I’d be there in my pyjamas. Taking this perspective also saves precious pound coins from the washing machines- that’s another thing, laundry ain’t fun. No problem when you’re back home but me walking round in underwear is not something I want my family to witness.

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Hipster shot, yo

This post could go on forever but I’ll cut it here to stop that from happening. The story of this fresher ended as women’s captain of the fencing team, fresher rep for 2013/14, a belt of entertaining stories to make everyone feel better about themselves and surrounded by some pretty sweet people. I did good.

But to first year, thank you and goodnight. 

SAM_0680

hashtag YOLO

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