I'm definitely a Fresher. If my slightly desperate and bewildered facial expression wasn't enough, I now cough and splutter through every conversation, lecture and lesson, as a result I'm always greeted with that sympathetic rather patronising phrase 'Awwww you got Fresher Flu little Fresher?' *sigh*. This week is insane because even though lectures have started we still have Fresher events in the evening, so everyone is walking around like hungover zombies and anyone who says they're going to have an early nights gets a look of envy from those who can't fight the peer pressure to stay out late and be outrageous. The last couple of days have been slightly ridiculous for me; my head is starting to ache from lack of sleep, new Italian words, new names, deciding what to cook, wear, do with my day, room numbers (everywhere in the language villa looks EXACTLY the same) newspaper articles, bank details, book list, auditions and weirdly enough, homesickness.
Yesterday I had a whole morning of grammar lectures, then two hours for lunch with a newspaper meeting in between. So I ran back to my halls, up the five flights of stairs into the kitchen, went to make toast and realised that the whole loaf of bread had gone moudly, so turned to a tin of soup and subsequently broke my tin opener, managed to get tin open, put contents into a pan, ran into my room to grab my stuff for newspaper and afternoon classes, soup exploded in pan, had to mop up soup and eat the remains out of the saucepan with a couple of rice-cakes, ran back down the hill and then up the hill to the library where I was meeting a friend and we frantically tried to find The White Bear, found the pub, had newspaper meeting, ran to Waterstones to buy very expensive grammar books, had two hours of lectures, then ran back to hall, checked into the Porter's Lodge to book the music room, dashed upstairs cooked dinner, got changed, down to music room to practice and warm-up, back out the door to the students union, ran up six flights of stairs, had audition, speed-walked back to hall, got changed, grabbed bible, walked up ANOTHER hill to church, had church, walked home, met flat mates, had girly chat, called Mum, went to bed. Crazy.
This evening has been equally busy. After an afternoon of food shopping, cooking, tidying, sorting and cooing over my new dictionary, I booked the music room again for more warm-ups before running down the Victoria Rooms for my opera audition, had opera audition, back up the hill and stairs to my kitchen where I attempted to bake a potato and make a costume. Ate my undercooked potato, grabbed some felt-tips to scribble the Berlin Wall onto a t-shirt before sprinting down to the JCR for CU meeting. Had CU meeting then ran out the door on the phone to my German Parent trying to find the start of the bar crawl. Went to a couple of bars, got incredibly bored of drunk people so skipped Lizard Lounge to return to the Manor Hall bar for silent disco with my homies.
Now I'm sitting here reading through Prego! (my rather extortionately priced Italian textbook) before my grammar lecture tomorrow. My room looks so cosy with all the desk-lights on and clothes strewn across my bed, my lovely collection of dirty mugs spread around, Thomas Mann's Tod in Venedig opened up on my armchair and Prego! balanced on my lap. I love this. I love that THIS is my life now. A life of cultural indulgence. A day-to-day existence where I can be in shows, study literature, learn languages, re-pot plants and spend time meeting new people and developing relationships with them. It's hectic and hardwork but I right now I wouldn't change it for the world.
I believe this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship: Paravia and Me.
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