It is that time of year again when it seems like the whole world is graduating from university or completing some pinnacle point of their existence. Facebook statuses are inundated with congratulatory messages and proud photos are being posted of people posing with their newly acquired graduation caps. At times like these I always thought that I would begin to question where my very own degree is heading. I have just two years left which, to some, would seem a lot. But considering how disconcertingly fast the past 720 days have buggered off, I’m somewhat terrified at the prospect of my inexorable reality. I feel like I should be concerned about employability (the infuriating token word that constantly springs up at career talks) and about my decisions in life; do I want a full time career, do I want a family or do I even want to stay in England? I should be concerned about these things but alas I am not. Instead I find myself quibbling about how barbaric I will look in a graduation cap and indeed whether I will be able to afford that fifth pint of cider at the end of the night. It sometimes feels like I have no real perspective on what is truly important in life or any true concept of reality. Even when I experience deaths or dramatic rushes to A&E, I still find the most trivial matters are the matters that keep me awake at night. Forget worrying about heart disease, I’m still fuming about fanciful ‘issues’ that were the bane of my existence a whole 2 months ago.
When I began walking along the path that is my University education I thought that in two years I would have matured in ways I never thought possible; become human stilton if you will. I figured that I would have gained intellectual insight into the works of Shakespeare and authors I had previously never heard of. I imagined my Spanish would progress in leaps and bounds to the point where the subjunctive became as simple as trigonometry. (SOHCAHTOA right?!) However, much to my disappointment, rather than accumulating a vast amount of knowledge and anecdotes, I seem to have learnt what appears to be the most random list of ‘helpful’ facts and tips that have helped me along this trek that I call life. This list contains some of the following:
• The Queen drowning is now just an inconvenience rather than a national affair. She can drown as long as I don’t have to down my 6th drink in one
• The last King can always go fuck himself
• 5 past the hour is not late...it is early
• Arriving on the hour is just overtly keen
• The only number a one night stand wants is the one for a taxi firm in the morning to avoid the walk of shame
• You should count your blessings if the one night stand doesn’t stay. No matter how much one tries to eroticise them, panda eyes and Gollum throats in the morning do not scream sexy temptress
• High heels can only lead to dignity loss if combined with cobbles or copious amounts of wine
• Whilst the middle class will always be able to afford Jack Wills, they will never be able to afford a comb
• It is true; it’s know WHAT you know, it’s WHO you know
• No matter how much you try and justify it, people will always think an English degree is pointless
• To some extent, these people are correct
• It will take 3 years and many thousands of pounds to realise this fact
• The number 40 takes on a whole new meaning
• The number 69 remains the same but instead conjures up unwanted memories
• E and G aren’t the initials of somebody who inadvertently keeps walking in and out of the room
• The word ‘banter’ will let you get away with deplorable behaviour, malicious insults and perhaps murder
• Instead of actually buying the book, it is perfectly acceptable to accumulate £20 worth of fines in the library
• Just when you think you have a strong will, the phrase ‘Go onnnnn’ will make anybody crumble like a heavily eroded cliff face.
So, not quite the pearls of wisdom I was hoping to have gained. Worryingly enough, they predominantly focus around drinking, debauchery and generally being a bit of a slut. Nevertheless, I hope these hints and tips that I have learnt in the first two years of higher education will serve me well in my future or perhaps encourage me to make the most out of the last two years of university. I should strive to become a well rounded person who is wholesome, pure and thinks of others whilst accomplishing wonderful things in the world of literature. Or I can think: Fuck it, I have two years to be mature, to gain experience and generally accept that soon enough I will have responsibilities of my own. Instead I’ll worry about how I’ll fit the bulbous mound that is my head into a graduation cap. I’ll worry about the definition of a casual relationship and spend hours mulling over the ending of ‘Donny Darko’. Yes, definitely a much better use of my time.
