Blogging Goodbye to Butterflies

Tag: student life

  • Studying at degree level is more

     

    What is being a university student really like?

    It is more than anyone will ever tell you it is.

    They tell you it is hard work, when in reality it is more difficult than you can imagine and at times so stressful giving up is more tempting than pressing a big red button that has danger written all over it.

    Therefore they tell you that as a student, you will need to be determined. Actually you need to be willing to get up after falling down for what feels like the one hundredth time in just one day.

    They tell you that you will learn a lot at university, when in reality you learn so much you feel as if your brain might explode.

    They tell you it will expand your horizons. And yes, university will be nothing you expect it to be, but everything you need it to be. Strangers quickly become friends for life and things you’d never have dared to do become the things you do on a daily basis.

    They tell you that you have to love your subject. They are right about that too.

    They tell you they’ll be the best years of your life and while you face all the challenges and trip on all the hurdles you might begin to doubt them. Except, when you sit down, look back through the photos, remember the good times and look at the person you’re becoming, you realise it’s all worth it.

    Going to university is worth it, worth all of it.

  • Mixed emotions about heading home for Easter break

    Sat on my bed in my half empty room, in my very empty flat, listening to the radio and waiting for my dad to arrive and take me home. This semester has flown by. One minute I was taking on January exams and celebrating being back in Cardiff after spending a wonderful Christmas at home with the family I’d missed huge amounts. The next I was handing in the last of my coursework and letting my dad know when I wanted him to head over, pick me up and take me home for the Easter break.

    Trying to figure out why on Earth I’m so nervous. By this point, I’d usually be overwhelmed by the excitement and I’d be thinking of nothing other than home comforts and hugs from Maggs family members. My closest friends would probably tell me that, seeing as I am permanently nervous about something or other, I shouldn’t waste my time worrying about it.

    I have a feeling I’m nervous about the fact I have to start revision for the summer exams once I’m home.

    Perhaps I’m just nervous about changing lives again. It sounds silly, but I’d just got used to living this one.

    This could even be a delayed reaction to all of the craziness of the last few weeks. This week has been craziest of all. I find it so hard to believe that I’ve just finished the last of my second year lectures, when the last day of first year still feels like only yesterday. I never ever want to be a third year student; I am going to spend the entirety of the exam period so torn between wanting the hard work to be over and not wanting the year to end.

    If anything I should be delighted I’ve come so far. At the start of this year I had no idea whether I was ready to conquer university by myself or not; I was terrified. Now, I’m so comfortable here I’m not even sure I’m ready to leave. Deep and meaningful musings aside, the last week of term was amazing and home is going to be beautiful. It always is.

  • The day before I leave home for university again

    Having just spent five whole minutes sat in the middle of my bedroom floor wondering where on Earth I am supposed to begin, I am beginning to wonder whether I will ever get used to this whole ‘packing my bedroom into boxes’ thing. If I’m honest, when I sit in my room deciding what to pack, all I want to do is convert the entire bedroom into a car which I can drive to Cardiff, convert back into a room and then live in. Yes, I do still want all 5000 of my Jacqueline Wilson books and I am definitely going to need to pack every item of clothing I’ve ever owned due to a strange sentimental attachment I have to it all that I can’t really explain. Yes, I do want to take my silver spoon collection with me, all of my ‘Now That’s What I Call Music’ CDs and every fluffy pen I bought during my last year of primary school. I need the pine furniture I grew up with, including the bunk bed… Even if it is no good for star-fishing in. My family and friends from Chelmsford can come along too right?

    Ok, so I will not fit my whole bedroom and every Chelmsfordian I love in the car and I’m not actually quite that sentimental. My point is… this is the hardest part. I am really looking forward to heading back to university now. The journey always goes amazingly quickly and I actually quite enjoy the four hours preparation time I get before life goes crazy again. Moving in is always good fun and so is the first night in or out with flatmates I’ve missed loads. Seeing my university friends, going on nights out and using my brain again always does me the world of good. So does having the freedom to order chinese at eleven in the evening just because I’m hungry, studying got too hard and chow mein is amazing.

    The hardest part is today… the day you have to come to terms with the fact its time to pack up one life and continue living another. I can never help feeling a little emotional. Today is the day I empty my room and fill the hall way with an abundance of toiletries, books, clothes and high heeled shoes. The day I plan to spend packing, friend and family seeing and eating my body weight in food, but end up curled up on a sofa telling myself I will pack soon… Telling myself I’m not putting it off because I don’t want to think about leaving and saying goodbye, I am just making the most of home comforts.

    But hey, all I’ve got to do is stop using my blog as an excuse, shut the laptop, pack, head out to dinner with an amazing friend and then sleep. Before I know it, it will be tomorrow.

    ‘Goodbye’ has a bad reputation, but it’s not always all that bad. Especially when its temporary.

  • Smiling like a student home for Christmas

    I’m finally home.

    My last two days in Cardiff before Christmas were so much better than I expected. I was expecting to simply spend them at the flat, by myself, working my last couple of shifts and watching the clock tick by. BUT my amazing flatmate stuck around an extra day after her last shift at her work (I’m not the only one juggling a job and a degree) to keep me company… We spent Christmas eve’s eve curled up with wine and chocolates, watching a film, exchanging presents and then talking until the early hours of the morning.

    Christmas eve wasn’t far from perfect. I succeeded in getting out of bed, despite the late night, and had breakfast with her before she headed out to get her train home. Then I finished packing, got ready and headed into work for my final shift. Work was the same as always, except for the fact I didn’t start till ten, we were all in comic Christmas costumes and there were ridiculous amounts of staff room snacks.

    My dad and sister met me at the flat after my shift. The drive home was so exciting I’m surprised I didn’t cry. Instead I just sat there smiling hugely and constantly reminding my dad and my little sister that I was ridiculously happy. I got home, stole hugs, went to bed and before I knew it, it was Christmas day.

    Christmas day was overwhelming. I’d only just got home, before I was jumping in the car and heading to my grandparents home. I ate so much food I’m surprised I didn’t explode. I nearly overheated in a house full of radiators that felt like an oven in comparison to my student flat. I saw my grand parents and the entirety of my dad’s side of the family all at once, when I’d only just gotten used to having my immediate family around again. I got loads of lovely presents and woke up boxing day morning to find myself out on a walk in the country side (which I think I had forgotten existed).

    Since then I’ve been unpacking, getting organised, working out how to make the most of three weeks at home and worrying about how I’m going to get all my uni work done.

    Today, I stopped worrying and I spent a whole day doing nothing for the first time in a long time. Having been on an amazing night out last night, I spent the morning in bed and then a few hours after that curled up on the sofa, cautiously eating dry toast and tomato soup, wondering if a hang over was going to hit me any time soon. Now I’m sat in my bedroom, having finally showered at five in the evening, wearing my onesie, singing along to my iTunes library, waiting for roast dinner to be cooked and smiling ear to ear.

    All I need to do now is decide what I’m going to say when I get to the hairdressers tomorrow morning, sit down in the chair and he asks me how I want my hair.

    Being me, I’ll consider cutting it all off, I’ll wonder if it’s about time I dyed it a crazy colour, I’ll tell myself I should try something new for the new year then I’ll decide I’d like it just the way it is, but just slightly shorter please.

  • Balancing work and study: Part time sales assistant, full time student

    I feel like my heart never stops beating too fast and the butterflies are back with a vengeance and that maybe this job wasn’t such a good idea after all.

    The first week that I had to juggle lectures and work shifts I was overwhelmed simply by making sure I was where I needed to be and when I needed to be there. Then, when I got back home I found I was absolutely shattered: I found food, cooked it, ate it, collapsed in bed and fell asleep. I never took a moment to actually decompress or relax.

    My first Sunday free of work or lectures was spent reminding myself what I love to spend my free time doing. Reminding myself how to relax and realising there are some bits of university life which I need to make time for, no-matter how tired I am.

    I love the night clubbing, book reading, essay writing (yes, even that), music studying, opera singing, film watching, friend seeing, takeaway eating bits of university life. Even if it’d only been a week, I realised I’d missed those bits.

    So, at the risk of becoming very slightly sleep deprived, I rediscovered my evenings. Week two, I got back in from work or from lectures, ate food and then, instead of sleeping right away, did something for myself. Whether that was to head to an awesome friend’s house and eat pizza, get distracted by social networks/YouTube videos and get some of my music essay written, head to a night club, or curl up in pyjamas with my head in a book to cover the history reading for my next seminar.

    I’ve never appreciated my Sunday morning lie-ins more.

    I’m trying to stay positive, but this is more testing than I ever imagined. I can’t win. I’m making a daily choice between sleep and those things that make me happy. The week just gone was the most hectic week so far! I can’t help looking forward to working my last shift Christmas eve already.

    Now the countdown to Christmas has begun I’m holding onto hope that things are going to get a little easier. I’m glad I’m making the time for the things I love and there is an end in sight. Here’s hoping that it’ll all be worth it in the long run.

  • Conquering a Busy Student Life – The early bird catches the worm

    When I woke up Tuesday morning it was still dark. I felt like I should be jumping on an aeroplane and heading somewhere exciting, jumping behind the steering wheel of my car and driving across the country or just retreating under the duvet until the sun decided to put his hat on. In reality I’d set myself an early alarm so I would have enough time to wash my hair and get organised before my two hour lecture and my work induction. Being me, I still didn’t have enough time and I spent the morning running around like a headless chicken. The induction at work was almost a complete disaster, but I made it through and back out the shop with The Entertainer uniform in hand and rumbles in my tummy. I gave into temptation and dropped into Gregg’s, browsed all the shelves trying to convince myself to be experimental and try something new and then ordered my usual. (“A sausage, bean and cheese melt and a piece of Rocky Road, please?”) I had an amazingly productive afternoon, Chinese went really well, yet another walk home was filled with mine and my flatmates Chinese conversation and then I got an early night.

    Wednesday was just as busy. I got up early, although it wasn’t dark this time. Had time for a cup of tea before leaving for lectures. Managed to enjoy lectures. Had an amazing lunch. Spent half the afternoon singing, first at choir and then in a practice room. Flopped in my flat mate’s room for hours while she baked bread (Inspired by the Great British Bake Off). Had a beautiful beef casserole dinner. Puzzled over more articles on the T’i-yung dichotomy in China. Went to a choir social at a pub five minutes walk from my front door and met lovely new people. Bought Chinese take away and curled up with my flatmates in the lounge, sharing jokes until the early hours of the morning.

    I never thought I’d say it, but I think early mornings are the way forward. I’ve been up since eight today as well and I’ve been so productive that every part of me is buzzing. Laying in bed for hours every morning just leaves me feeling tired, smelly and lazy. Goodbye wasted mornings.

  • Powering through Fresher’s flu

    Can you still call it Fresher’s flu when you’re in your second year and you’re not a fresher anymore? Student flu perhaps? University flu? An adult cold?

    Whatever you call it, I’ve been poorly this week and had I written this just 24 hours ago it would have been filled with complaints.

    Yesterday, I had a horrendous day: I broke a glass when I was washing up, I found loads of important unread emails from my university, the internet kept crashing while I was trying to send replies, I nearly blew up the kitchen because I didn’t realise there was oil in the bottom of the oven when I turned it on and let it heat up to 200 degrees celsius… Ok, so the day could have been much worse, but with a runny nose and a head that felt the size of Jupiter I found myself curled up in bed with a sad face on wanting to do absolutely nothing, except perhaps head back to Chelmsford and curl up there with a cup of tea and my family.

    My cold ridden self did however manage to book herself an audition for Cardiff University’s opera this semester and did manage to reply to emails despite the lack of internet connection. The audition is Monday evening and I’m… I’m not saying I’m terrified, not if admitting that means risking the return of butterflies just as I’m enjoying a beautiful and much needed bowl of Crunchy Nut cereal.

    Once I’d had dinner I started to feel slightly better and my amazing friend gave me a glass of wine and convinced me out of the house and into a night club for the night. (My decision may have also been influenced by the fact it was ‘Propaganda’s Giveaway Party’ and they claimed to be handing out Nandos vouchers.) I had an amazing night, forgot all about my nose and my head, bought McDonald’s at the end of it and still made it out of bed and to enrolment this morning.

    Despite the fact I felt a little nervous when my alarm went off and I realised it was time to head into the music department for the first time this semester, once I was up and about I was surprisingly calm. By the time I was walking towards the university I was on a high just because I’d conquered step one: Get out of bed and make it out the front door by nine. Enrolment was much simpler than it was first year. Maybe because there was less to do, or maybe just because I was better prepared and less scared.

    My cold is back to haunt me this afternoon, the Tesco near me aren’t selling the Beechams’ cold medicine that until now I haven’t made it through a cold without and the audition is on Monday but my throat hurts and my cough doesn’t seem as if it will be going away anytime soon. I’m eating a late breakfast and I’ve drank more orange juice than is healthy, I’ll spend the rest of the day keeping warm and maybe cook something hot and spicy tonight. I’ll speak through my audition piece later; running through pronunciation doesn’t require a healthy throat. If I wake up with a voice as low as a man’s and as croaky as a frog’s tomorrow morning then perhaps I will panic, until then I know I have three days still left to recover before my audition, I can spend all day in bed tomorrow if I want to and I’m feeling positive.

  • Thank goodness for dongles, wellies and hairdryers

    Sat on the sofa jumping every time I catch a glimpse of a van as it turns down our street in the hope it’s either the delivery man with our TV or the man from virgin here to set up our WiFi. So far every van has turned in the opposite direction. Luckily, I’ve discovered the dongle: A magical device that connects your laptop to the internet through the mobile network.

    Moving day was a success. We may have left two hours later than we’d expected to, but I managed to gobble up a burger king on the way here despite the nerves and I remembered everything besides extension leads and screw drivers.

    I took my time settling into my new student room, and may have hit my head on the slanted ceiling several times while doing so, but now I’m settled I’m really happy with it. The atmosphere in the flat when I arrived was amazing, everyone was ridiculously excited and the boys were already discussing ordering pizzas, buying drinks and heading out that evening. As weird as it felt to be back at university and to be going to Cardiff pubs and bars, we had an awesome night. Starfishing in my double bed at half one in the morning, in my new room, having just been out with my new flatmates, I was a happy Bronwen.

    Since then I’ve been to visit some of my other uni friends, who despite my fears haven’t forgotten who I am over the summer, been to a pub quiz that was no match for the one I go to every Sunday in Chelmsford (which made my heart ache just a little), bought hoodies to replace the ones I lost over the summer, handed out job applications and CVs and lost horrendously at chess.

    Today we braved the rain and gales we woke up to, grabbed wellies and umbrellas and headed out to complain at the letting agency about the broken washing machine and windows. The rest of our time has been spent playing card games and attacking the freezer, which frosted over during the summer, with a hair dryer in the hope of being able to buy frozen food soon.

    As is to be expected I miss home, but I am settling in here AND having a great time… With little time to stop and think, I’m yet to consider jumping on a bus and retreating.

    It’s my turn to cook tonight, so I’m about to head to Tesco. Breaking all of the rules and heading to Tesco with my tummy rumbling, but hoping I’ll still be able to resist buying the whole shop.

  • Two days till Take Two

    Just two more days left in Chelmsford.

    Part of me wants to ring Cardiff University and tell them I won’t be studying there this year after all because I’m sissying out and I’d like to stay home. I want to cry every time I consider saying another temporary goodbye to my friends and family. I’m meant to be a university student now, but I feel like I’m sixteen again and all I should be doing is spending time with friends at the park, going to Smirnoff Ice house parties and worrying about GCSE results . When I imagine waking up in my new room at uni on Sunday morning I want to run up to bed, hide under the duvet and never come out.

    The other part of me keeps telling everyone who asks just how much I am looking forward to going back to Cardiff and how I cannot wait for the fresh start. This part isn’t lying either, there is a part of me (quite a big part of me) that is exploding with enthusiasm. I cannot wait to unpack and decorate my new student room, to go out in the city with friends I haven’t seen in ages, to experience my first university house parties (now everyone has moved into second year houses all over Cardiff), to get a job, even to sit surrounded by books in the library studying a brand new and hopefully interesting topic.

    And I may be sad summer is over, but I was admittedly a little excited when I had to pull a scarf out of my wardrobe to wear yesterday and even when I left the house with an umbrella.

    How one Bronwen can feel so scared and so excited all at one time baffles me.