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Moving Out (2) (360 hits)

Category: None

Rating: 1.2 on 6 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
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Submitted by matnotharry <mattreallysmells.at.hotmail.com> (View user info) at 2006-10-11 07:44:07 EDT


Parts 3 and 4 of my experience of flying the nest for the first time. Parts 1 and 2 are here: http://www.ubersite.com/m/94159

-------

Have you done the big pack?

Today is Friday. At some point today approximately half of Warwick's fresher intake will begin the 24-hour countdown that culminates with a fully loaded car (or two it seems for some) departing for a small community outside of Coventry. For the majority of us, university is the final step in our education that we have crept towards for the past 14 years. Our acceptance is the fruit of many hours of toil and labour, projects and paper, blood and ink.

We are about to embark on a journey that will begin our lives entering into the real world, teaching us independence, self-discipline and the cold hard fact that you get nothing for free. For the past two years we've been told to prepare ourselves for the greatest few years of our lives, to get the most out of it and be ready for whatever student life throws at you.

All this advice has had a very sedating effect on me, like burying my head in the sand. Instead of lugging my ass to Primark and returning with half the shop (and a few quid change from a twenty), I've watched reruns of My Family. By not looking into buying a laptop, I got my winning streak in Freecell into the thirties. Rather than measuring myself to allow me to send off for a lab coat, I asked a brother to pinch one from school (it has a red collar and curious stains, you cant miss me). I took one look at the small pile of Tesco bags in the corner of my room and was instantly zapped of energy causing me to fall asleep to the lullaby of metallica.

I was woken by a mildly concerned parent asking if I want anything put in 'the big wash' and that if I thought it wise 'to get a move on'.
"Jeans. Please" I reply from within a pillow.
"These are disgusting, when were they last cleaned?" more concern.
"June" is the muffled reply before I fall asleep again to the lullaby of a disgusted mother insisting I sort myself out.

She had a point, though I didn't admit it, and I began to pack. Rooting through my possessions led to bizarre yet banal dilemmas. How many jumpers does one need? And how many shoes? Do I need more boxers or shall I just take this lot and turn them inside out to wear again the next day? Is a Lonsdale hoody acceptable outside the home? Shall I be 'that guy' and wear Hawaiian shirts? Shall I take my (yet to be worn) pair of tiger pants (think Robbie William's 'Rock DJ)?

Dad could sort these problems in an instant (2, 3, hell yes - wear 'em back to front and get another two days out of them, yes, no, definitely not). But of course parental interference is strictly taboo with these things. Slipping an fhm and few bottles of Russia's finest into a suitcase is an act not meant to be witnessed. Neither is your parent's surprisingly on-the-ball purchase of a bumper pack of Stella to help you easily make 24 friends (or 12 good friends, or 6 very good friends, or 3...)

In short, like checking Warwick received your photo for id cards, packing is a small trial we all have to go through (just kidding, I.T department).

Warwick had bet...oh you know the drill now. See you Sunday.

Matt

----------

Have you done the big settling-in?

So, we've been here a week. A whole seven days without your parents, room, job or a properly cooked nutritious meal. Around this time last week we were nervously greeting strangers with a cheery 'hi, what are you studying?' or welling up as we waved goodbye to parents, or just unpacking, possibly whilst debating whether it was more depressing packing your life into a suitcase or finding that you actually achieved it.

Whether you attended half a dozen lectures or not, you'll have learnt a great deal by now. You'll have navigated your way back to your room regardless of whatever stands in your way; be it rain, wind, darkness, alcohol vision or a fifteen minute trek (or all five (holla to my fellow Westwooders). You'll have found how to fall asleep whilst retaining a façade of attention during a lecture after a night out with new-found friends. You will have begun to appreciate the wonder of a nearby Tesco and how visits at 2am are not necessarily a good idea.

By now it's likely that you're a member of several cool-sounding societies and possibly of the few more obscure ones just for a laugh (extreme frisbee, rock gospel and Warwick gay pride spring to mind). Chances are your room is littered with a thousand flyers, posters and goodies; all gushing how amazing they are, with blinding socials and the ability to change the world every Wednesday social (sorry belly-dancers, I cant see it happening). You may be missing home or dying of fresher's plague but you still know you want to here, in your sty of a room surrounded by strangers who are getting rapidly less strange.

You love Warwick and you love university. Hope you enjoy it.

Matt.


myroom.JPG (12 kB)

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User Reviews


Submitted by matnotharry (user info) at 2006-10-15 10:40:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Submitted by The_taste_of_Monkeys (user info) at 2006-10-11 08:18:44 (#)
Ranking: 1

ps Good post, pretty much sums up the first wee while at Uni

------

I know it's a typo but I still giggled. Maybe I've had enough Value jaffa cakes

Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-10-11 10:09:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by Beano312003 (user info) at 2006-10-11 08:58:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by indoninja (user info) at 2006-10-11 08:30:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

I want to -2 this because I am sick of this story, but you didn't cry and it was well written.

Submitted by The_taste_of_Monkeys (user info) at 2006-10-11 08:18:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

90% of students are lazy fuckwits who only came to University out of some twisted idea that they "had" to go and didn't have a tiny thought in their mind as to what they were going to do with their shitty and mostly useless arts degree.
Sadly for me Im one of those remaining 10% of students who are actually at Uni for a GOOD REASON, you people are getting in my way, fuck off and get a job you parasites!

ps Good post, pretty much sums up the first wee while at Uni

Submitted by Davros (user info) at 2006-10-11 08:12:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Good Stuff.

Should be required reading for freshers.

-Dave


That shot is impossible! Jack Nicholson himself couldn't make it!

-- Homer Simpson
Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield