I have been in such a nostalgic mood this past week. It may be due to moving house, but I think the most likely cause is that it’s that time of year that students head back to, or start, University.
I’ll just say it right now: My 4 years at Uni were the best 4 years of my life.
I’m sure many people feel exactly the same way when they think about their time at University (or College if you’re a friend from across the pond!) So, in my nostalgic mind-set I thought I would do a different kind of post today. It will be a bit of a ramble but I feel like talking 🙂
There was never really a question about what I would do after high school. I was ALWAYS going to uni. Even when there was a bit of a lapse in academic achievements during my 5th year, I simply worked my little bum off and managed to pull the grades I needed out the bag at the last gasp. Where I would go to uni was a whole different story. At the time I had a boyfriend who was a few years older than me and was very much a homebody. When I decided that I wanted to move away and go to a school 136 miles up the road, he wasn’t exactly chuffed. After a lot of compromising and driving back and forward, I decided to call it quits before I went back for my 2nd year.
In the nicest way possible, this was the best decision that I ever made and I think he would say the same thing too. Doing this really made me grab onto my uni life – it wasn’t a separate part anymore, it was my just life. No more compromises, I just did what I wanted to do.
I threw myself into a VERY active social life in 2nd year and I have to say that this may have been the best of my uni years. This is when I met some lifelong friends and the boy who would eventually become my long-term manfriend. This whole year was spent making up for lost time. There were SO MANY nights out, and too many kebabs consumed. My week consisted of Tiger Mondays, Jelly Baby Wednesdays, Octo Thursdays and Pot Luck weekends. This was also the first time I had drunk anything from a funnel, a tradition we fondly named F.O.D (Funnel of Doom). Trips to Prague and Faliraki (haha) followed, our motto was “if the freckle’s on show, it’s time to go home” and I was at my most carefree.
Things calmed down a bit in 3rd year. Our group of friends (mainly trainee doctors) all settled into their degree which meant a drastic decrease in nights out. There was still the odd Tiger Monday with Dunbar and Granny Lyall, and a memorable night dressed up as Mr Motivator, but we spent more nights with friends making homemade pizzas and discussing bread. This was also the year that a friendship turned into something much mushier. To my complete surprise we are still together, and happy, 3 years later.
My 4th and final year was a whirlwind of studying. Dissertation Doom was upon us all and our doctor friends were also feeling the burn. That’s not to say we didn’t make time for fun – we went out dressed as Noah’s Ark. A lot of time was spent in the Library with course mates, crying in the pornography section, and the mutual fear that we all felt brought us closer together. We were all successful in the end and I would like to thank Kelly Clarkson and her song “What Doesn’t Kill us Makes Us Stronger” for getting us all through it. The year was rounded off with a trip to London to visit the Harry Potter studios with Dunbar and Debbie – A simply perfect conclusion.
I spent 4 wonderful years studying Communications with Public Relations at The Robert Gordon University in Aberdeen and I wouldn’t change a damn thing about it. I loved my course and I loved everything about my life there. I left last July with a 2:1 BA(hons) degree and a brain full of memories that I will treasure forever.
I know this is a bit of a different post, so let me know if you enjoyed it or not!
I will now leave you with the immortal words of Asher Roth:
“Pass out at 3. Wake up at 10. Go out to eat then do it again. Man I love college.”