Freshers

Is it strange that I am enjoying Freshers a lot more now that I am not a Fresher? I don’t think so. There will be others who think of Freshers as one of the best weeks of their lives, but if I could turn back time…well, I wouldn’t. Although, I’d happily take the first year work load.

So that’s me back in Glasgow. For good. And I’m loving it! Maybe it’s because I know it’s my last year here so I’m all filled up with love – I love my squeaky, taped up bed; I love my crazy carpet that clashes with everything; I love the mice – actually, no, I will never love the mice. They look weird and scary and are getting too cocky for their own good. But I do love everything else and really will miss it come next year. I don’t even want to think about next year – I think I accidentally told the Spar I could work for them, but I’m hoping I passed it off as a joke. I mean, it’s a nice job and everything, but I would like to work somewhere else – got to keep Better Together happy as well. Oh God, I wish I was there for the referendum – Better Together must be absolutely shitting himself right now and I’d love to see what stops he’s pulling to persuade people to vote NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! He’s probably manically burning every single copy of Braveheart.

So now that I’m back in Glasgow, I should get back to the tourist-in-my-own-city blog, although it might just be a bunch of theatre this year – RADA’s made me a tad obsessed. I saw A Streetcar Named Desire last night and holy fucking cow, was it INCREDIBLE. Gillian Anderson was Blanche from her very core and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. On our first day at RADA, they asked us what “good” theatre was and I still don’t know – I mean, I know when I see good theatre, but I can’t analyse WHY it’s good apart from the fact that you get that nice feeling in your tummy. And goosebumps. I almost what to get a bus to London tonight so I can see it in the theatre. There’s a debate in the Theatre World right now about streaming plays in cinemas. Some think it’ll stop people from going to the theatre and that once again, the modern world is taking something personal and making it impersonal, but I am so happy they do it – I would never have seen this play if they didn’t. And I don’t think it’ll make less people go to the theatre as I think theatre lovers will always choose seeing it in the flesh if they can and it just gives those who can’t afford the time and money to travel to London, the chance to see these amazing plays. If you haven’t seen Streetcar, GO BOOK TICKETS. The whole cast was good, but Gillian Anderson was something special – I don’t know how she gets on the stage and does that every night. It’s one of the most haunting plays I’ve ever seen.

GUSH, GUSH, GUSH.

I’m going to see The Full Monty next week, which is meant to be hilarious. Also, I think there might be naked men on stage – woop, woop! Jokes. This doesn’t make me excited. Nudity on the stage actually makes me very uncomfortable (AAARRRGHH A PENIS, AAARRRGHH A VAGINA; WHERE DO I LOOK; WHERE DO I LOOK?!?!?!?!), but at least I’m not sitting at the front. I really don’t understand the people who sit at the front. A play is so raw, personal, and in the moment – who the hell wants a moment staring them in the face? I like to be a least 50 feet away from any moment.

But as for now, I should really, really, REALLY do some work on my dissertation. I have the scariest supervisor in the whole University and if I don’t have any work to show after FOUR MONTHS, he will kill me, stuff me, and then pin me up in his office like a stag head as a warning to all students.

But maybe I can fob him off with some milk chocolate hobnobs…

Any Other Brians Out There?

 

Starter for Ten has got to be one of my favourite books. For anyone who hasn’t read it, it’s about an English Literature student’s first year at University and all the embarrassing mistakes he makes. For those who have seen the film and not read the book, THE BOOK IS SO MUCH BETTER. 

I read it the summer before my first year at University, thinking it would make me a little wiser on what I was about to spend the next four years of my life doing. Before I read the book, I had some pretty idealistic imaginings about what University would be like. I saw myself in a big Hogwarts courtyard, sitting under an oak tree, reading and understanding big, dusty books, before going out with all my new friends, perhaps staying up all night, discussing Life, the Universe, and Everything, and maybe even smoking. I also thought my fashion sense would magically transform.

 And so, for those who’ve read Starter for Ten, you can perhaps imagine my bemusement at the University life it portrays – it wasn’t what I imagined at all. Straight A student, Brian, leaves his home in high spirits, but when he turns up at his new flat, his expectations don’t really meet reality. His flat-mates are douches, he tries to be someone he’s not, befriends the wrong people, loses interest in his course, and is caught between his life at University and his life at home. He generally passes his days in a guilt-ridden, hungover, and self-loathing state. Sounds pretty depressing, right? But I really enjoyed it. After reading it for the first time I thought, ‘Huh, quite a good book’, but during my first few months at University, I read it over and over and over and over again and thought it was absolutely HILARIOUS. I was also comforted in the knowledge that there are other blundering idiots like me out there (yes, I think characters are real people). 

 When I finally got to University, I felt as though it swallowed me up. The first night of Freshers, one of my flat-mates came in and asked me to do up her bra. I think I managed to contain my shock quite well (WHAT. She wants me to do up her bra? I’m not ready for this!!!!) with an air of nonchalance and a casual ‘yeah, sure…’. But this thing had about 10 hooks on it – I didn’t even know bras like that existed – and it took me a LIFETIME to do up. I didn’t even manage to do it up properly…just sort of hooked the first and last hook and left the others open. I was in a state of panic and just wanted that half-naked girl, who was obviously a lot cooler and worldly than me, out of my room. 

 That was the first flat-mate I socially alienated myself from. 

 Any student has probably met people who have said that they get on really well with their flat-mates, but there’s one who keeps to themselves. I was that flat mate. Seriously, I was pathetic. I would only go into the kitchen when I was sure there was no one in there, I spent the majority of my freshers nights in, eating jam roly poly and when I did go out, I made a complete fool of myself. 

 One night at the union, I got dragged into a game of Never have I Ever, which I thought would be quite fun…but after two rounds in, I was pretty sure I was the only virgin there. ‘Never have I ever had sex in a shower’, ‘Never have I ever had sex in a kitchen’, ‘Never have I ever had sex in a pool’…I hadn’t even touched my drink and so vowed that the next one, no matter what it was, I would drink to. ‘Never have I ever had sex in a field’…

 I drank. Not truly comprehending what I was drinking to. 

 ‘What?!’, they all said. ‘You’ve had sex in a field?!’ 

 I froze, a silly, drunken rabbit caught in the glare of incredulous, self-sussed students, thinking my plan to fit in probably wasn’t the best, but then I shrugged my shoulders and said, ‘Erm…I’m from the country…?’ 

 AND THEY LAUGHED AND I FELT LIKE I BELONGED.

 But the next day when I woke up, my mouth feeling like a camel’s armpit and my head thumping, I could vaguely remember other people from my halls playing the game. And I didn’t remember them drinking much. They were obviously fine with the fact that they were still virgins and now, here I was, the slut in halls who had once had sex in a field.

 That was my first attempt at fitting in.

 The next few weeks passed in a haze of staying up late (most likely watching t.v. programmes), missing lectures, procrastinating, hiding from the kitchen, and fearing that I would have to down the King’s Pint in the next game of A Ring of Fire. Basically, like Brian, I passed my days in a guilt-ridden, hungover, and self-loathing state. Also, for the first time since I was about four, I found myself thinking that I wanted my mummy. 

 Smooth.

 But again, like Brian, I survived first year and now here I am, half way through third year. I mean, I’m still non the wiser, but I’ve at least stopped lying and bought a bra with more than two hooks – this one has FOUR!