As you may
or may not know, I moved to university last weekend and it has undoubtedly been
one of the weirdest, funniest, toughest, most fun weeks of my life. A million
and one things have happened in the last ten days and, to be honest, I can’t
quite remember what my life was like before. I’ve received my bodyweight in
flyers and hand-outs, listened to some decent music at a club for the first
time, explored a brand new city (at one point from a rooftop), seen more tins
of Carlsberg than ever before in my life and, best of all, I’ve had a real
taste of what studying at university for the next three years is going to be
like.
First of
all; the partying. No amount of drinking and clubbing whilst you’re at college
can prepare you for the absolute carnage of freshers week. Personally, I’m not
a huge club-goer, but I know several people who went out every single night of
freshers week (Tina I’m looking at you) (three nights was more than enough for
me) and it has left them destroyed. I’m not trying to make out that I have been
left unscathed by the last week’s whirlwind because my dinner-plate-sized tonsils
would argue otherwise; I’m just suggesting that others (cough cough my new flatmates) are in a much poorer state than
myself – I read something about waking up with a cheeseburger in someone’s bed and
masking tape on a bedroom door somewhere in the group chat. On literally the day moved in, I found
myself drinking an entire bottle of Buck’s Fizz in someone else’s flat and then
being dragged by my lanyard (we have door cards and not keys here at MMU)
towards a club. I wasn’t so happy about it on the Sunday, but by Tuesday night I
was ready to do it all over again. My flatmates and I went to a, dare I say it,
trendier club on the other side of town and it was honestly something else. I’ve
never been to a club and genuinely had as much fun as I had last Tuesday. I distinctly
remember having my shoulder grabbed and thinking oh my god it’s happening I’m being grabbed, but then only being
asked if I was selling any pills – from this I learnt that I look like a drug
dealer on a night out and I probably shouldn’t wear a plaid shirt to a club. In
fairness I did take a bit of MDMA so I was full of energy and jaw-slacked at
2am and unable to stop dancing. When I got in the taxi, my feet were on fire so
I decided it was only logical to stick my feet out the window (“I want to know
what she’s taken!” –one of my new
friends in the cab). Getting back home was depressing because I ate three bags
of quavers like an absolute pig in front of a good-looking, educated boy who
just so happened to be in our living room whilst I was having my hair tie cut
out of my mattered excuse for hair. Eventually I got to bed and was literally
about to throw myself out the window at 9am the next day to go to class.
Last week,
aside from all the dancing and drinking, I had my introductory lectures, you
know those ones where they try to cram five hundred people into one room and
you’re forced to sit between two people you don’t even know, and I’ve been in
and out all day today going to classes; but I’m really starting to settle into
the actual academic side of things. On top of the ridiculous amount of flyers
that are forced into my hands every way I turn, my reading list and preliminary
material is getting pretty extensive too. I’m pulling off articles, reading
book extracts, juggling handbooks and, to be honest, I’m kind of loving it.
There’s just something about studying something you really love full time and
having it plastered on your walls and wedged around your bookmarks.
School-wise, I couldn’t recommend university enough to anyone unsure on if they
actually want to go or not. The only downside I have discovered so far is that
my timetable is an absolute farce. I have no problem with the ten o’clock
starts, but when I need to be in class in alternating hours starting at nine o’clock
in the morning and finishing at five o’clock at night, I could not be more
annoyed. Today was my first proper day doing this and my feet are in agony from
walking back and forth six times and only getting a whiff of lunch before
having to leave for class again.
Socially, I
did find it hard to settle in after the first few days because, although all my
flatmates are really nice, I just feel like I’ve not really clicked with
anyone. So I’m glad my partner in crime is also at university in Manchester too
as I would have literally lost my mind if I was on my own. It’s comforting to
have a friend you already know and don’t have to make small talk with. If I was
on my own in Manchester, I think I definitely would’ve been feeling worse than
I have even though I have a friend here with me. I can see why people would get
really homesick during freshers week or the week after because you’ve gone from
being surrounded by everyone you’ve grown up with your entire life, to
literally no one you know and that’s really daunting. Exciting for sure, but
daunting none the less. Apart from the support network of my friends, I’ve not
really missed being away from home or even had homesickness because living on
your own is amazing. Although I’m guilty of sending the “DOES ANYONE IN THIS
FLAT EVEN PUT AWAY THEIR SHIT” text to my other friends, I am finding that
living on your own is great. Now it’s totally acceptable to eat your breakfast
(a bag of Quavers) on the way to class and to look like you’ve been hit by a
rubbish truck after you wake up at 16:00 because literally no one is going to bother you. The weirdest thing I found about
living with seven other people your age on the first couple of nights, is that
everyone else is just as awake as you at 01:30 in the morning and you don’t have
to creep about making a cup of tea because everyone else is doing it too! It’s
a bit bizarre at first, living with people with the same messed up sleeping
pattern as you, but its one of the things that I low-key love the most about
living in halls.
Manchester
has a lot to offer. I’ve been out for fancy pizza in the Northern Quarter, and
I’ve been confused by a gutted bus with speakers on all the walls, I’ve been to
see some great comedy (Russell Kane absolutely smashed his gig to be fair), and
don’t even get me started on all the cool shopping available – from Abercrombie
to Affleck’s, Miss Selfridges to market stalls, and Topshop to thrift shops;
whatever you wear, you can find it in Manchester. And maybe the biggest Primark
in the world, which I think we have here. Another great thing that was actually
at least partly born in Manchester, is a really sense of individuality which
emerged throughout the late twentieth century through youth culture like Mods
and Rockers and Britpop. That feeling of modernity and electricity still runs
throughout the city and it’s what attracted me to come and live here in the
first place. There’s something about the music scene which is just so diverse and
magnetic, that you couldn’t find it anywhere else, asides maybe London (but who
wants to live there with their overpriced rent and piss-smelling tubes). On top
of that, you can walk just about everywhere in Manchester too. Unless you don’t
know where you’re going and have to turn around and go back to Piccadilly to
get the 143 down Oxford Road (fellow Mancunians I feel you). I can make it to
the majority of pubs and clubs on foot from my flat, never mind my friend’s
accommodation which is just a twenty minute walk away, or my classes which I can
get to (toastie in hand) in ten minutes. But seriously what is with all the
ambulances here in Manchester? Is someone being stabbed on Stretford Road every
half hour?
Overall, I
think I’m just facing normal university problems which literally millions of
students before me have faced when they move away to universities in big
cities, and I’m sure that this time next term I’ll be taking the tram like a
pro.
