Well, I’ve arrived. I’ve actually left that rock in the middle of the Irish Sea: a jewel to some; a heap of $*&? to others… I’ll let you decide which I support. But the high point of it is I’VE ESCAPED!!!! No longer shall I feel claustrophobic in the small-island society of the Manx. And by no-longer, I mean… for the next 6 months or so…
So during my first week, whilst every other university will name it ‘Fresher’s Week’… a week filled with frantic frolicking and rampant outrageousness, Salford calls it ‘Induction Week’ and issues you with a large timetable with talks and addresses from tutors, the Dean, and various departments from the university, all the while the Student’s Union works in the background putting nice things on, but for some reason the compulsory university run talks always over-run and so you’re too late for the fun activities… Jee-whizz..
I’m already well established as ‘The Bitch’ in my house… although some appear to have neglected to see the evident signs, which only adds to the hilarity of some social situations for both those ‘in the know’ and myself.
I’ve already made a few friends, both house-mates and course-mates alike, and my bank balance is flourishing… in the negative sense of ‘where did that money go :S’ Alas, such is Student Life, non?
It’s expensive, it’s en-suite, it’s small, it’s ‘home‘. I should also add that upon entry, it was dirty. I’ve sorted that out now, with my good friend Bleach, and Grease. Elbow Grease. However, no amount of scrubbing was going to fix the broken toilet seat, half hanging off. Nor was it going to clean THAT much dirt from off the shower curtain that had been evidently left for the past 3 months… 48 hours after arriving, I could finally use my toilet, that was nice of them, wasn’t it? Considering the form I was handed said it’d be sorted within 1-4 hours.
We’re also fire-extinguisher-less. So if I die in a fire, you’ll know why.
The kitchen is lovely and modern, apparently because last year it had to be renovated for a wheelchair user, so the counters move up and down at the touch of a button, much to the enjoyment of all of us when sober… and again to some of my house-mates when drunk.
Cleaning and self-sufficiency doesn’t appear to rank highly on some of the lists of my house-mates, if in their vocabulary. But some of us have devised a rota already that will be implemented on pain of death.
Out and About
No-one told me you don’t have to have any common-sense or intelligence to get into university. Darn it, all those years wasted. My favourite quote to date comes from some random first-year who was walking alongside me (how dare she, does she not know who I am) whilst talking on her phone (I’m surprised she could do two things at once really):
And I walked in the room and thought I could smell burning bread, so I asked myself who was making bread, but I knew it wasn’t me as I was making toast.
All in all, there is an underlying sense of What Have I Got Myself Into?
Well, I’ll certainly find out soon…