Dear Freshers,

Well, you look awful. If you ended up in bed with somebody last night, they’ve probably taken one look at you and made a run for it.  Is that vomit in your hair or is your brain literally leaking out of your ear? I bet it feels like it is. I bet you were drawn towards those one pound Jagerbombs last night like a moth in the dark to candle light. It’s alright, though. This blog is a judgement-free zone. But if you ever actually want to recover, I would advise you to stay out of the kitchen where you hosted pre-drinks for a while yet; the actual state of it will plunge you even further into the dark, gloomy pits of this hellish hangover.

But then, you might not fit that description at all. I might have found you clear headed and fresh faced, ready to face the day and to face the new life you’re embarking on, but without alcohol and partying. That’s alright - you don’t have to do that. There's still every chance you might feel pressured into doing so - "come on, just one drink! Don't be boring!" - but you just do whatever the hell makes you feel comfortable. A lot of people use university as an excuse to teeter out of their comfort zone – in heels they cannot walk in, usually – but there is absolutely nothing wrong with staying contentedly within it. I commend you for it.

Nonetheless, it goes without saying that with all this newfound freedom and drinks that will cost you less than a bus ticket into town, you may find yourself making a bit of a tit of yourself in the next few years. You might make some mistakes; you might put faith into people who perhaps aren't worth it, you might get your social life/academics priorities wrong, you might drastically overestimate your ability to drink those Jagerbombs. You might even sleep with your flatmate! (no, I don't care HOW fit they are - nothing good will come of that situation) But you're better off making these mistakes now. You will learn from them, so forgive yourself. I love a bleak Tweet about the foolish, ridiculous situations I seem to frequently wander into, but there's only so much social media self pity before you have to dust yourself off and say "fine. Whatever. What's next?"

 
Besides, you have your studies to focus on! Woah, did you forget? Ah, sorry - turns out those highlighters aren't just for drawing cute designs on your face.

Here's a tip: I'm assuming you chose your degree subject because you love it. Try and keep it that way, even if the chemistry seems to fizzle out now and then and you hit rocky patches (especially when you’re 500 words under the word count and you strongly suspect you may actually burst into tears if you have to think about a theorist again) The fact is that you're lumbered with this subject for the long haul, so you may as well find it worth the blood, sweat and tears. I know people who have already sussed that they’ve chosen the wrong subject for them and don't enjoy it at all, but they've decided it's just "easier to stick with". And you know what’s crap? I feel sorry for them. I feel genuinely sorry over the fact that they have chosen to spend the next three years working their sorry arses off for a subject they don’t absolutely love.

So weigh up if it's "love" or "oh my god, what have I done?" as soon as possible. If you think it through and decide your course isn’t for you, try and change courses. If that isn’t possible, I would go as far as to advise you to drop out entirely. See it as a blessing in disguise, re-apply and do something else for a year; find employment or even get out there and travel, if you can. If you think that university won't do much for you in general, don't see it as a "failure". You can learn so much more about the world through alternative means, because university is not the only way of receiving an education.   

Here I am talking about dropping out, when you've only just arrived. You're probably already overwhelmed - nope, I don't believe you if you try to insist you're cool and collected right now. You've just moved away from home and have been dumped into this pool of pissed up randomers who may be your best pals or the banes of your life. You damn well should be overwhelmed! But it will pass in time; freshers week is intense but as the semester begins and the conversations less clouded by whatever neon concoction is on offer at the student union, you will settle into the new pace of life. You might still have moments where you think "I'm meant to study...without being prompted? Christ, what is this meant to be?" (I definitely still do) but you may be surprised by how quickly you become accustomed to it.

Or you might not. Not a nice thought, huh? I know, but it concerns me that nobody else will say it to you and you'll only get the "best years of your lives!!!!" talk. People might still not want to own up to the fact, but university might not go as smoothly as you'd like socially; your flatmates might not be your kind of people and you might not meet the best friendship circle you were told you'd basically walk into immediately. That's not a fun situation to be in, believe me I know. Plus, the workload is a step up, the deadlines are usually tighter, the textbooks even thicker and yes, it could become hugely problematic for you. University is fun, sure, but it doesn't come without it's new obstacles.

So this is the most important point I want to make with this post: look after yourself and your mental health. Never feel ashamed, embarrassed or alone in feeling how you do. Do not be afraid to talk to somebody if you don't feel like everything is as hunky-dory as it feels it should be. This is actually the biggest regret I still carry from my first year of university. I was unnecessarily sad and anxious for so long because I felt too embarrassed to confess that I was struggling. Slumping into passivity will only prolong whatever the issue may be, so get in touch with your parents, tutors or a counsellor - most universities even have phone helplines. Seriously, this is actually one mistake you actually can't allow yourself to make. Please know that you are too damn important to compromise your own happiness. I mean it.

But I don't want to leave this letter on a solemn note, because - as I've now had the joy of learning for myself - you should spend the next few years feeling anything but solemn. You should be excited - there might be some nerves thrown in there, too, but you should be bloody well bouncing off the walls. Make sure you make use of the university societies; you'll meet people who you already have things in common with, which is half the battle, really, plus they may have great social events. Sports clubs, student media, choirs and amateur dramatic societies - anything that floats your boat, push yourself out of your circle and go for them. Always try and talk to the people next to you in lectures; they're willing for somebody to extend a hand of friendship just as much as you probably are. Don't shy away from the new opportunities and challenges that lie ahead of you; take your tail out from between your legs and run towards them.

Look after your friends, look after yourself and have a bloody brilliant time.

Now go for a shower and sort yourself out. Like I said - you really do look dreadful.

xxx

Life Update #1: I've Lost My Keys

In my life I have always acknowledged that to some extent, I am kind of a dickhead. You might think I'm being a wee bit harsh on myself here but actually, I'm pretty okay with it. It is a realization that occurs to me like a football boot to bollocks quite frequently; for example, when I ignore everybody's advice to "slow down a bit" at predrinks, then I pass out in the birthday girl's bed an hour later and miss the night out. I realise it on the many occasions when I say too little when I should speak up, and when my filter suddenly disappears at times when maybe, I should pipe down a little. It happens especially so during Mighty Boosh marathons when Howard says something lame and my response is not to guffaw at the screen, but to nod and wistfully think "y'know we'd probably be great pals if you were a real person?"

To be honest, the "you're a dickhead, Flo" realization is hitting me again right now. I have just finished eating Indian food with my dad, who has since popped off on the Subway back to his hotel. I would like to be doing what he'll be doing right now - lying in bed, full and content, like a pregnant penguin - but instead I'm sitting by myself in the library. I'm locked out of my flat. Lost the bloody key. I've lived there ten days.

It is surreal typing that though - "my flat". Unlike "my halls" it's got this wonderfully adult quality to saying it; it signifies having my shit together, paying actual rent to a landlord and cooking actual meals and even doing a bit of dusting now and then. Saying "my flat" beats "my halls" any day. Check me out - I bought bin bags for my flat today. And kitchen roll. Because I'm an ADULT in MY FLAT. That's what we all do, right?

You'd think that would be the case. But I don't think real adults lose their keys.

So I feel more of a pretend adult right now, really; kind of like a toddler in nursery school playing in a plastic kitchen whilst the real adults smile and utter through gritted teeth "oh, she's really..energetic?!" Sadly those nursery school days are even further behind me now, since I turn twenty in over three weeks. I'm not looking forward to it. Once you turn twenty, you have to accept the fact that you actually are a sullen witch and it really isn't just those pesky teenage hormones. Saying you're twenty years old has no wonderfully adult quality; just the regular kind - "I miss the days when I didn't have to care about the shit like kitchen roll".

In other news that doesn't make me feel like I'm pretty much going to fail all the basic tasks life naturally gives me, I now have a column for qmunicate! Considering I had roughly twelve Twitter breakdowns over my application, several crisis talks with my mum and maybe one too many "consolatory entire packets of Maryland cookies" after getting a bit upset over it, this has undoubtedly been the best thing to happen to me in my first year of university. Proclaiming that something is a "dream" of yours always sounds a bit naff, but since learning I could coherently string a sentence together, writing a column has been...well, yes. A dream of mine. "Triumphant" is a good word to sum up how I feel - like Mary the cow from that advert ("she's always wanted to be a horse...")

It came at an especially good time too, since my blog inspiration has been a little low recently and when people know that you write there seems to be this pressure to...always write. Write and be funny, write and be thoughtful, write and write and write.

Moral of the story: lose your keys, start writing.