Learning how to correctly apply UV face paint in the shape of a bird in the distance. Being offered some of a calzone by a very lovely girl in my block two floors below. Discovering the hidden talents of a good friend in Fairfax House (who knew that reciting the phonetic alphabet could be so calming?!). Finding out that there is a BNOC in our year already, even though we have been here around 3 days. Realising the therapeutic and relaxing qualities of writing blogposts in the early hours of the morning. These are all things that I have learnt since arriving at York.
Has it been three days? I can hardly remember. I’ve seen friends from sixth form in James, and I’ve met many of Vanbrugh in Revs. It is true – Vanbrugh is the best college. Our YUSU President went there [I think], my sixth form English Literature teacher went there, we have an official Rock Tutor, and our colour is purple. What could be better?! Like a spillage of Vimto on a clean worktop, we descended on Revolution, for a night of ‘Oh, what block are you in?’ and cheap pseudo-cocktails, because no matter how fancy you twizzle the bottle, a Vodkranberry will still just have two ingredients, calm down. Six-Shot Lines will definitely be my downfall, not that I care.
I have also signed up to be dressed up as a ghost to tell stories at the National Trust Treasurer’s House, because why the hell not? It’s only two nights at the end of October, and I can scare the hoo-hah out of the general public. I think on Thursday I might go to the York Ghost Walk. Admittedly I WILL cry/wet myself/wail like a banshee, but York’s history is too rich and lovely to go amiss. The YUSU bods gave a peppy talk about what they do, and volunteering/RAG/activities were strongly pushed. ‘Peppy’ being the key word here, as they seemed to possess an inhuman amount of enthusiasm for democracy for such an early time of day. And by ‘early time of day’ I of course mean ‘sometime before 2pm’. 1pm – 2am is the s**t version of the Witching hour, so many of us are wandering around like lost spirits.
Is this starting to sound like a typical Freshers’ Week? Maybe. Many amusing things have happened, in just a day or so, the pinnacle of which is a flatmate somehow ended up in Willow on his first night. Surely that is some sort of record?