First Term Stories
Posted: Saturday, December 26, 2009
by Sara O'Rourke
So they say to write what you know, yet what I know does not amount to a great deal. I'm nineteen, have huddled my way through the typical middle-class itinerary and am probably quite heavily dictated to by hear'say and BBC Breakfast in my morning haze.
At the same time, however, I could argue I am right now at my most impressionable, corruptable, most easily convinced, seduced and disgusted. I am, after all, a student, and my home is one of the busiest, most diverse cultural meccas of the world - London. I'd say my opinion and experiences are therefore pretty damn valuable, and if not, at least tug on the old heartstrings of generations who are quick to re-live their rebellious student years.
Student life, after all, I have found to be a life of extremes. Undoubtedly, the first term is most intense in this respect, for it matches rocketing emotions with the exhaustion of everything new. I found myself sky high one minute and coming down to tears the next, with the smallest of triggers. But, while things were going well, they went really well, and everything about London and being a student there amounted to untoppable.
The first people I met at university were a trio of girls, whom, I am proud and happy to say, have remained some of my closest friends there to date. I remember approaching them nervously whilst waiting for a halls tour the evening we all moved in and trying to act mature and respectable. Apparently, and we can laugh about it all now, they thought I was leading the tour! My efforts worked, obviously! Shock for them that I turned out to be a little more wild and a little less sensible.
As for my department (I read History,) - it was as close to love at first sight as you will ever get on the planet. It's perfectly-sized; not too big, not too small, with a bunch of people, most of whom have cool glasses with those thick frames, who have the best brains in the world. They love to think. What's better than that?
The social life was just as amazing, although it overwhelmed me more than the work did. I am naturally studious. And proud. At first, I had to grab onto friends I recognised and prayed that they would not think me a leech but take me on happily. I vividly recall getting lost in clubs and dancing with groups of strangers until I saw someone I knew to join. As for the boys - they were many and varied. More importantly, however, as far as I could see - every one of them was good-looking. Success.
I met hundreds of people during the first month of university - the vast majority of whom I don't speak to now, unsurprisingly. In the naive frame of mind I adorned, I must admit that I did judge some pretty quickly, dismissed others, and was totally astonished on several occasions when I discovered the truth. The student body has definitely taught me that everyone is entirely different and deserves individual perception.
Allow me to throw in a few more 'humorous' memoirs, without going into incriminating volumes of detail. I have not forgiven myself as of yet for taking advantage of a very drunk, and equally infamous, womanizer - pushing him over while he took a leak by the embankment. Hilarious at the time, but immediately flooding me with guilt! If it 'put him out of work' for a couple of days, nonetheless, I'd taken sufficient revenge for the scores of girls he'd ticked off. Beware of those rugby boys! I also ran around halls spraying Febreeze with my face painted as a tiger, woke up in a bathroom shut for renovation and befriended a young man on the tube on the way to a ball, proceeding to share his earphones and rap to Eminem. Only on the Piccadilly Line.
That's all folks, stay tuned for more installments of the student life. I aim to please! Merry Christmas to all and a happy new year!
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Top-level comments on this article: (2 total)Interesting article and one that students live out worldwide every year. Liked your line: "The student body has definitely taught me that everyone is entirely different and deserves individual perception." How true--and Happy New Year.
I remember that first term, many years ago. Your article is a depiction of the scenes we all experienced, first term. Go deeper into the thoughts and emotions. Show us the inner workings of the mind of a young woman in that situation. Try to step out of 'you' and become a symbol. Try writing in 3rd person to distance yourself from the plot and expose the theme; or, do stream of consciousness to take us into the narrator's mind. It is a universal experience, give it universal meaning.
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