Goodbye First Year

Hello everyone. The provisional release of our grades (more on that later, you can see me profoundly toot my own horn), and the preceding exodus of everyone from Stoke Bishop means that our first year is well-and-truly over.

There have been some highs, and there have been some lows. Though, admittedly there have not been many of the latter. If you would have told the Eleni from a year-and-a-half ago that she could probably count the number of times she cried this year on her hands, I think you’d get a shoe thrown at you in shock. Absolutely every one of you reading this (unless you have somehow stumbled upon my blog through means other than my close friends’ story) has made such a positive contribution to it, and I wouldn’t take back meeting any of you for anything.

As I was walking home from work today, I went through the Downs and subsequently, came back home via. Badock. What a blast from the past, right? It’s bizarre to compare how unhappy and how unsure I was of myself and my future at this university to now. A (barely, but a little more of) woman, sure of her future (for now) and very much content with her life. Sure, there are some things I would change in an ideal world, but they are out of my control and I, without getting too gushy, feel so lucky to be in the headspace that I am in now.

As the saying goes, time does fly when you’re having fun, so while it feels like it was only yesterday when I was practically pushing my mother and stepdad out of the Senior Resident room in Block 7, it’s easy to forget that it has been nearly nine months since I moved out of London. So much has happened; people (though not many) have come into, and then back out, of my life. And, without going into detail, I can safely say that I have never had more life-steering events occur to me within nine months. Ever.

From Mondays at BP to philosophical afters at Hannah’s, Fridays in the Beckford Bar, zoots in Ed’s and blems in Maj’s, the four 9 or 10 am lectures I had in Teaching Block 1 to the days I would spend moving around Senate House as Ted would see me working in each location and take the piss. From my initiation into F block by Kaden and Roshan, my gossiping in Rozzi’s, my favourite night out at Bristol thus far (the first time I ever went to Black Swan), slip-and-slides and baths in F block, brekkies with the Georges and Will. Maybe I’m just feeling soppy because I’m the only one still here, but I would not take any of that back for the world.

I have, of course, made what some would call mistakes. But to be honest, regardless of how silly they were, everything I have done (good or bad) has taught me much. Even the silliness that entails going to your ex's house and rekindling a relationship on your first night of freshers or partaking in a seven-month "relationship" with a man whose chat-up line was to send you "🇬🇷👹" on Snapchat and communicate primarily with you via pictures of clowns and blackhead popping (obviously I am exaggerating and I still wouldn't take it back!!).

Resolutions for next year:

1. Don’t let the fact that you got the dream grade (73%, get to know) in 1st year let you pull the shit that you did last year. Go to your lectures, do the extra reading, and don’t be a lazy fuck. That being said, have more faith in your intelligence. You deserve to be here, so make it known.

2. Don’t pull the shit you did last year: *cough, cough* library gate. Don’t do that. And don’t put your friend in that position again.

If you are at all interested in my emotions throughout the year through the medium of music, go check out my Spotify meditations. Like the true philosophy student I am, there will be six of them. And yes, they are obviously named after Descartes' own.

First Term: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5nORuZ3UGAwxVHUS7QwWtY?si=187941dbb3f84911

Second Term: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7psY0PBaFlGcMYYYKuVErf?si=c149bc6189eb42f1