Fresher no more

It has taken a while, but I have finally become accustomed to the fact that my days as a fresher are over, I will not be moving back into halls and I now have to cook for myself. A year of rock hard jacket potatoes and my speciality, Tuna à la  Pesto à la  Tink, looms ever large.

What a wonderful first year – I honestly couldn’t have wished for a better nine months spent at a fantastic university with a group of people who have become so very important to me. And what has first year taught me? Oh, many things.

1)      You can struggle through a day of lectures on surprisingly little sleep (NB I’m an English student, therefore slightly wary of the term ‘lecture’, having attended few)

Whether you have been out, up all night destroying an essay or have spent the evening chatting in the kitchen and did not realise it was 3am, you can stagger through. You just need to master the art of being a non-obvious napper i.e. falling asleep in lectures without being noticed by your friends who will undoubtedly take hideous photos of your dribbling face or, worse, by the actual lecturer. (“I’m sorry, am I keeping you up?” = chilling words.)

2)      Halls are the best

There is not much else to say on the matter. I loved it! Granted, our shower never worked, the boiler was questionable and we set several unfortunate tea towels on fire in the kitchen – but it was all deeply entertaining. OH MAPLE BANK IS WONDERFUL

3)      Never, ever, line your stomach with soup.

It will be messy. Diabolical even. Shout-out to Olga, Ruby and Kate, to whom I am eternally sorry.

So there are a few little gems of wisdom. I feel that at this point I should mention the fabulous other inhabitants of flats 59 and 60. OH SUPERFLAT (yes I know it’s a terribly cliquey name but who really cares), what a brilliant year you made it. Immediately establishing ourselves as a close-knit group (“I’D TAKE A BULLET FOR SUPERFLAT!”), we had an utter blast, with help from a plentiful supply of tea, Gavin and Stacey, 80s music, a surprisingly significant airing cupboard and the general hilarity of each other’s company. Thank you to you all J

Of course I am sad that I am no longer a fresher  - after all, it means that the scary, grim, frightening real world that will arrive at the end of my degree is drawing ever closer. However, all is not lost –  first year is just  the beginning of my fabulous three years at Birmingham, so I am secure in the knowledge that there is still so much more to come. AND, we can still play the ‘let’s pretend to be freshers’ game, where you wander around campus with a slightly lost expression on your face, clutching a map, and get free stuff from the societies fair. Sounds like a plan.