The best and the worst of the competitors’ band names for BoB 2009.
On Friday night two of my dreams will be coming true: I will be both Hermione Granger and a Zombie.
From fabulous to frightening; frivolous praise and scorn for what’s hot (picnics) and what’s not (exams).
You have to be up early because you’ve got about 27 things going on every day and one of them inevitably happens at 9am, and you have to stay up until at least 3am because it’s Freshers’ Week and there are events to go to, kitchen conversation to partake of, ridiculous drunken antics to witness. The solution? Afternoon naps. And guess what, Freshers – this is merely the beginning. These naps continue far beyond Week 1, well into your university life. One of the many wonderful similarities between being at uni and being at nursery.
Fun, cheap, easy to get to, and everyone you know is there - campus events are perfect. They get you out, they get you socializing, they get you drunk. They also, in the case of Access All Areas, teach you your way around campus, which is handy when the time rolls around for you to actually have to go to lectures.
Be as drunk as you like, eat as much crap as you like, stay out all night if you like. Your STYCSs won’t stop you. They’ll probably encourage you. Forget to do the important things, like washing your clothes and buying your textbooks, because you’re too busy being curled up in your duvet having six hour conversations. It doesn’t matter. No one here cares what you do.
What’s Hot for some people is definitely Not for others. A hoard of drunken 18 year olds in fancy dress drinking out of plastic cups isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. Luckily, there is [plenty more] on offer during this fortnight to keep you satisfied.
So, what A Levels did you do? Where are you from? How old are you? Oh right, so what did you do in your gap year, then? No, I’ve got a boyfriend back home. Are you seeing anyone? Which college are you in? What are you studying? What sort of music are you into? Your accent is SO weird…
The flipside to freedom; that slow sinking realization that there really ISN’T anyone to cook your tea for you when you’re miserable with freshers flu. No one to nip out and get bread and milk for you when it’s pouring with rain. No one to make sure your favourite pyjamas are washed and waiting for you under your pillow. This particular pain in most acute in Freshers’ Fortnight and usually dies down quickly, although it can rear its head around exam time.
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