I'm a much happier person than I was 12 months ago, when I stepped out of my sixth form common room for the last time, preparing for my exams, and worrying, hoping I'd do enough to secure a place at Leicester for the BA Geography course. I'm not happier because everything went smoothly, I'm
happier because what happened actually turned out for the best. I didn't get my place at Leicester, and on the 16th August, I was scared shitless. I had a coach to V Festival in 24 hours, and no certain uni place, until I rang Leicester at 2pm, for the rather un- apathetic receptionist to tell me that I'd not got a place, but they weren't sure when they would release me from the UCAS system (cheers guys for leaving me hanging).
At 5:15pm I thought I was screwed. In a way, I was. I wasn't missing V Fest for anything- I'm not a woman with a massive sense of priority. I had to find a university mad enough to take me with my (and I stress my) disappointingly mediocre grades (two B's and a grade in drama I'd much rather forget)- all 'not-so' achieved through a combination of laziness, discovery (and liking) of alcohol and socialising. Fortunately, I took a leap, and thought "you know what would be fun? moving 170 miles away to a city, somewhere I've never been, leaving what can only be described as the arse end of nowhere and smells of manure ". As you so obviously do when you've been crying all afternoon trying to turn a D into an A on the results card. One university with my course really fit that particular bill. Rang up Plymouth. Told them my grades. Said please and thank you. Must have sounded bloody desperate, because they said yes. After a near 300 mile round trip, we go to Plym for a grand total of 40 minutes, get a lucky spare place in a 6 bedroom flat of girls (admittedly never my first choice) and wait until September. All whilst dreading it, thinking I'd made the wrong decision. Was it too late to tell Alan I'd take a full time job at the Co-op!? You know what, I'd go to college, for another two years and try Leicester again. Told both of these plans to my Dad, and he just laughed and told me to go make him coffee in return for the £120 he spent in petrol, and the £300 deposit, and the other £200 on getting me stuff for uni. (Apparently Bank of Dad likes to stick to a plan)
The first time I saw Plymouth was the day I moved in. For those of you who have never been, Plymouth is no oil painting. The Hoe and Barbican are beautiful, but you don't see that at first, and it all sort of looks a bit grubby and dingy and "oh holy shit what have i done, turn the car around, TURN THE CAR AROUND". But Dad didn't, partly because he couldn't wait to get rid of me and partly because I had so much crap in the carboot that any swift movement could cause a topple.
So, we arrive at halls. Halls are great, for about 3 months, and then shit will hit the fan- you realise how much you hate other people, how much you hate single beds, how much you hate the fact that fire alarms can and will happen when you're in the shower and how much they cost. But the great thing is you share this hatred with other people, and your flat are one of the greatest bunch you will ever meet. Especially if you're all the same gender. We've had our fair share of oestrogen drama, but my girls are simply fantastic. My tragic threesome; Katie and Amanda and just the kind of people you need in life, and being all girls there isn't any of the inhibitions or smelly boy things lying around. They understand the need for Taylor Swift at 2am. They know that the magical 3-5 days of each month are a time to speak softly and bring offerings of chocolate.
I thought I'd find it horrific, but actually it's amazing. You won't get on with everyone, and in such an insular community such as halls, you will fall out with people, and things will get blown out of proportion. But, at a university with 30,000 students, you don't have to have those people in your life. Thats the beauty. At university, you learn that you only have to fill your life with the people you want. Obviously, I'm always going to have my friends from home- I keep them close because I love them dearly, but there are ones who get left behind, and thats okay. I've learnt this year that its okay for friendships and relationships to change, and growing apart, or moving on isn't a bad thing- it's just natural. And who's to say it's forever? The beauty of a good friend is that you can always pick up where you left off.
Freshers week is amazing, I'm already craving next years. Go to everything you can, immerse yourself in it completely. You'll meet amazing people, and even if you only end up speaking once or twice, it's another face you can dance with in Cuba at 3am, screaming "FRESHER". I wasn't going to go to my departments induction party event. If I'm honest, the two free glasses of wine swung it for me, and was the only real reason. I knew a couple of girls from the first lecture, and hung out with them, quite awkwardly, but from that actually ended up meeting my now best friend- ironically the event was called "Make Friends For Life". How cliched... We're literally two peas in a pod, both very odd and awful at motivating each other, and really should not be put near each other when laughing, but totally inseparable (quite literally, we have a joint name and everything).
Apart from Steve, I haven't really clicked with that many people on my course, but next Freshers (I'm changing my degree) I know that as someone a bit wiser, I can really have the confidence to just be friendly and stuck in, and go to such events, even if they do sound on the face on it, a tad dire.
Another thing about this year is the course, obviously. It's the mean reason to go to university- not the partying, drinking and 3 year sabbatical from normal working life. I'm lucky that Plymouth is a 'relaxed' enough uni environment for me to really learn that Geography just isn't my discipline. I'm changing to English, and the staff have been so helpful. I gave it a go, but it enabled me to actually realise what I want to perhaps to with my life.
Money, doesn't however hard you wish, doesn't grow on trees. I've had one 1am phone call when I checked my HSBC bank balance and realised I may starve to the parents, and Dad was cross (but only because he had to get out of bed for his iPad). Parents are there to help, and if they're like mine, will more often than not pay to keep you away- Mum even stating that £200 monthly in my bank account was saving them 'thousands'
on the food bill. Cheers Mum.
I'm not sure why I feel obliged to write this little blog, but I just want people who, just like me a year ago, thinking that everything is going to go tits up, it won't. University is what YOU make of it. You create the experience. If you want to slack, you'll achieve nothing. If you think you're not going to make friends, you will. There is always at least one person who you'll click with. Go out of your comfort zone, try something new. If you don't really drink, at least go out with you flat once, just to show willing; you don't have to change who you are, you just have to be accessible. I was never the confident out going type with new people- seven years in the same school with the same group of fantastic friends, in a small community meant that I didn't have to meet new people. I've always been myself, and people accept me for it; and considering how odd and weird and very tragic I am, thats a mean feat.
So, if you are reading this, have a fucking blast. Freshers is one of the most amazing years, and you'll learn so much about life, and yourself.
Enjoy,
Samm.
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