My Fresher’s Fortnight
By Amy Bride
My preparation for university life was fairly typical; two solid days of sitting on suitcases, warring with zips; hours spent listening to Student Finances’ ‘Greatest Hits’, and endless discussions with my mother about why I wouldn’t need a spare ironing board.
When I finally arrived the first thing I experienced was a certainty that Hertfordshire had saved all its rain especially for me. Expecting crowds of teenagers scrambling through the doors with speakers and Xboxes on the first moving day, I figured I’d avoid the crush and arrived at 10am. Apparently nobody else shared my sensible thinking; the De Havilland campus was a ghost town. As I unpacked amongst the tumbleweed (after realising I’d managed to bring 4 odd shoes with me!) I sat in the kitchen and waited for someone, anyone or anything to make contact. Eventually I found life and began the ‘settling in’ process.
In the first fortnight of student living you’re bound to get the odd mishap: breaking a glass, managing to wedge my front and bathroom doors together so I couldn’t physically get into my room, finding a random person lying across the kitchen table - you know, the usual fun, games and fire alarms. But it got a bit much after a while. One cooker is faster than the speed of light, whilst I can actually feel myself growing older waiting for the other to reheat last night’s Dominos.
Similarly, I found out the hard way that the only two settings on my shower are ice and steam. Uno are going for the world record for the number of unwashed hangovers they can fit onto a single-decker bus. And I found out that early morning swimming is the OAP session, after I got into the pool (either that or they’d been in there a really long time). So to banish the not-so-brilliant first footings of Fresher’s Week I figured I’d go out, have a drink and enjoy myself. Sorted! Or perhaps not.
The Forum is the equivalent of shoving 36 guinea pigs into a matchbox, with a little drum and bass. We’re all jumping around because someone in the corner started it and the rest of us can’t help but go along with it. One guy was so close his armpit hair was resting on my shoulder and that was him attempting to keep his distance! I crawled out of there with half a VK and what I hope was beer soaking my left side, not to mention a nice sweat trail from said guy’s armpit on my right.
Pirate night wasn’t much better; between debating who’d dressed up as pirates and who just happened to look like pirates, I spent the entire night fighting off horny shipmates with a sword. I’m not generally one that gets hit on, but I must have smelt like sea salt or parrot crap by the suggestive “Yaaarrr”s I was getting all night.
So all that, plus the refusal of my laptop to acknowledge an internet connection and leaving an unwashed pot for so long the noodles gained squatter’s rights, pretty much sums up my freshers fortnight. Things can only get better!
