Blogging Goodbye to Butterflies

Tag: uni

  • 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.

  • From Surviving to Thriving – Student life is taking a turn for the better

    I should be the size of a hippo after eating everything I’ve eaten this week. I blame Papa Johns for tempting me with their 99p offer Tuesday night and Just Eat for making it so easy to order Chinese take away when you get home late on a Wednesday evening. My equivalent of comfort food has become the occasional piece of healthy food I eat. For example, when I ate an orange after the Chinese on Wednesday, I could have sworn I felt the vitamin C loving bits of me jumping for joy.

    On Sunday night, this week terrified me. Now I’m sat on my bed, thinking about what I’m going to wear out tonight, surrounded by laundry that I discovered dries quickly hanging from the open sky lights in my room, procrastinating expertly and wondering what all the fuss was about. I’ve spent the afternoon curled up on the sofa drinking tea, reading the book on British History that I have become slightly addicted to and feeling productive despite the fact the book I was supposed to read today was based on the Dreyfus Affair in France.

    I didn’t get into either the Opera or the Operatic Society concert. The audition went surprisingly well considering how ill I’d felt the day before. Expecting it to be a complete disaster, I was pleased when I left and I had managed to at least sing the whole piece. Monday evening, after the audition when I met one of my best friends for coffee, I was feeling positive. Aside from managing to sing my piece, I’d spent a few hours in the library covering the reading for the lecture Tuesday morning and I’d been to my first music lecture of the year without freaking out too.

    Tuesday, I think, was the best day of the week. I had to get up at 7:30 for a lecture that exhausted my brain because it lasted an hour and a half, but I finished the day with the previously mentioned 99 pence meat feast pizza, attended my first Chinese class and went on a night out. Chinese class was brilliant. By the end of the lesson I was ridiculously excited about the fact I could say Chinese numbers 1-10, say hello, goodbye and thank you, tell someone my name is Bronwen and I am British and ask their name and nationality in return. Me and my flatmate spent the entirety of the walk home having the same conversation in Chinese over and over again. The night out was a good one, as they always seem to be, but the early start had got the better of me and I was home and tucked up in bed by two in the morning with McDonald’s chicken nuggets in my belly and a whopping great smile on my face.

    After my lecture Wednesday morning (which I was very happy I made it out of bed and into) I went job hunting again. When I went to hand a CV into The Entertainer Toy Shop they wouldn’t take it. They said they had finished hiring for the Christmas period already, but told me to wait a moment so they could double check. I ended up in a group interview for two hours having much more fun than I would have expected to have in an interview. I was completely unprepared, but the staff all seemed friendly and welcoming and the spontaneity of it all meant my butterflies didn’t make even a brief appearance. They said they’d call me on Friday if they wanted me to attend the Christmas meeting and work with them over the season and on Friday I got a call. If everything goes well at the meeting I can consider myself employed. I am trying me very hardest not to jinx things by mentioning how excited I am about the idea of working at a Toy Shop over Christmas helping children choose what they want from Santa, but I AM SO EXCITED. Yes, Santa is real.

    The rest of the week has been just as amazing. I had a lecture on Chinese history which I know I’m going to become geekishly interested in. I wore my jelly bean wellies out the house and successfully resisted the urge to jump in puddles or sing ‘Singing in the Rain’ whilst spinning my umbrella. I planned on heading out last night, but at the last minute chose to curl up with chicken, chips, an awesome friend and a disney movie instead of heading to the club. Tonight I am going out and I’ve spent so long trying to decide what to wear that I’m starting to wonder if I actually own nice clothes. Tomorrow I’m spending the day with my head in a book again, hopefully the right one this time.

    I’m not an opera star just yet, but I am a Toy Shop sales assistant and I have conquered a week of lectures and loved it. I’m hippo-size and happy.