With the return of home-cooked meals and the promise of summer approaching, my first year is over. Exams are finished, residences are empty, and I now have no place to get curly fries at 10:30. I’ll think about getting a deep fryer. But it’s truly over. I still remember being stuck in the ramblings of exam crazy brain, with a (not so) healthy dose of bulk juice bottles and cheese-flavoured everything. I still remember a lot of stuff. It’s probably because (and this competes for the most famous cliché) it all went so fast. So without further ado, I present to you my thoughts on first year. Bon appétit.
It was exhilarating, dynamic, and other such words you’d find in eyeliner ads. It was definitely an experience. I began as a Radiohead-obsessed plaid-wearing hipster. But I’ve changed. I’ve gone through a transformation. I’m now a Bon Iver-obsessed plaid-wearing hipster. I know, quite the change. But I don’t feel my first year was about that momentous change everyone thinks of when they look to university. It was more about the fine-tuning. I feel like, going into university, I was an empty house, with walls set up and a roof over my head, but with little in the rooms. Sure, there’ll be some high school passions I’ve retained, but this year was about discovery, about what I’d fill my rooms with, who I am and what I love to do. So let’s get to the fun details.