That Girl from Derwent dwells on the value of religion this Christmas.
That Girl from Derwent has learned a few more things about prejudice since moving up North.
That Girl From Derwent reckons if you're going to be offensive, you should find a better reason.
That Girl from Derwent considers why it is that some words have wider implications than others.
This, I have discovered, is what happens when uni friends encounter home friends.
Having convinced my mother that I was well enough to leave the house, I set off on a journey back up north to visit a university friend that I had missed incredibly since leaving York. For weeks, I had been convinced that this few days was going to be close to the highlight of my summer – especially given my recent confinement – and I had been looking forward to it ever since I'd booked the tickets.
But, come the day, I'll admit I was nervous as hell.
Now I tend to worry about everything. Having not seen this friend for so long, there was the fear that it wouldn't be the same: that she would have realised her home friends were infinitely better company than me; then there was the worry about getting along with her parents – what if they didn't like me? Everyone's home life is different, and what if the way we did things at home were significantly different to the way they did things? What if, without realising it, I put my metaphorical foot in my metaphorical mouth and totally ruined the stay?
On top of this there was the general worry of getting my train on time and finding my way round the massive station at the other end.
But I got there, finally, after several odd encounters with several odd people and a slight giggle at a DIY shop called “S & M Supplies” in Stoke or somewhere. And it was fine. Better than fine.
That was until I had something else to worry about. And this is where the home friends come in.
It was my friend's birthday. Clearly this is the time for a party. Clearly, this is a time for friends to meet each other. Clearly, this could go either way.
Clearly this is the time for rather a lot of cocktail, yes?
Well, that was my way of thawing the ice. It was much easier to meet people with all that vodka and Archers and cranberry juice and in no time at all I was rather enjoying myself. Another friend wasn't quite so adaptive – but it was amusing to watch him subtly square up to the other males in the room, trying to assert his position as the new friend over the old ones. The good thing about the alcohol was that I couldn't be bothered to worry about such things – and hence discovered that there was actually nothing at all to worry about.
From that point on, I stopped worrying and just allowed myself to have fun. But then I did notice something interesting: visiting university friends at home is like watching them in their natural environment. It's seeing what made them who they are. University is neutral territory where everyone has to build everything from scratch – when you go to someone's home, there's a power shift. Suddenly, you have no power whatsoever, except to observe – and that's what you spend a lot of time doing.
In a couple of weeks a few friends are coming down to see me in my home town.
I'm slightly worried now about what they will find out about me.
I wonder what exactly That Girl found out about her uni friend? Makes you wonder eh?
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