Wot I Learnt in Second Year

Work, work, work, work, work, work
He said me haffi
Work, work, work, work, work, work!
He see me do mi
Dirt, dirt, dirt, dirt, dirt, dirt!

I did one of these for my first year, and I’m all about creating and then upholding my own traditions. Second year was a different beast to first—I had to pay off my first year. Sisyphean barely covers it.

Freshers’ Week is Still Pretty Great, Even If You’re a Rep

There’s no rule stating that a freshers’ rep is not allowed to have fun as well (I mean, there are several if you define ‘have fun’ as ‘drink and wake up in strange beds’). Have fun I did, and nobody died on my watch. I initially wondered why I was getting so drunk each night when I was only having a couple gin & tonics for pres, but on Thursday realised the problem – all my cups were pint cups. Oops.

Hot Damn Employment Is Easy

As I cruised into the summer holiday, I was holding down no fewer than seven part-time jobs of varying ‘part’. I’ve written before about how much better a bunch of part-time gigs are compared to a full-time one, so I shan’t repeat myself here. Amazingly though, I even still vaguely remember what free time looked like!

Some People Really Need Hobbies

After I pissed off a bunch of those kind of students by having an opinion and then defending said opinion, they found the time to complain about me to the Students’ Union, necessitating a full investigation and interview into whether I was a hate preacher (official verdict: STFU).

Even over half a year later they still showed up to a completely unrelated hustings to derail things and—whilst I can’t prove this definitively—I’m fairly certain are responsible for my phone number ending up on the Food Standards Agency’s food recall text alert system, as well as the m4m section of Craigslist for the South London area.

Those were some rather bizarre unsolicited texts and phonecalls, until one day I got the guy on the other end to chat for a bit and found where he’d got the number from.

Relationships Are a Bit of Alright

In first year, what is now a good friend called me the biggest slut in Pendle (quantitatively untrue). This year, things took a turn for the slow with one of those ‘relationships’ that you hear about on the evening news in third term.

Then she went to study in Indiana for a year, so looks like I’m back to Plan A.

The French Are the Actual Cutest

Look at what my Frenchies did for my birthday:

They even drew all the flat:

I’m So Sick of Clubs It’s Unreal

That’s what happens when you go out 5-6 times a week for a year in a city with 4 clubs. I spent as much of my drink time as I could this year in Pendle’s bar, having pints with friends and actually being able to hear each other. It was incredible.

The Top of Bowland Tower is Pretty Cool

I finally saw Lancaster University’s #1 view:

Everything Should Always Be Dry

Storm Desmond. Fuck Storm Desmond.