Being Alone

Currently, I am sat on the top deck of a cruise liner. There are many young Spanish students my age all around me, either splashing about in the pool, or at the bar ordering cocktails. As for me, however, I am sat alone, at a five-seater table, surrounded by nothing but my Spanish exercise books. Sounds lonely, right? Incorrect. I am perfectly content, and let me tell you why.

I have always felt that there is a stigma about being seen alone, especially in a public place such as this. Onlookers may assume that I may have no friends, or something along those lines. This is a perfectly natural thought to have, as I myself have often found myself conuring up some similar extravagant theories when I see an old man sat by himself in a bar. All of my imagined stories have the common theme that this poor, lonely guy must be heartbroken and left alone. But am I right in assuming that his wife left him and that he now spends his long days drinking his problems away? Fo course not. He is perhaps having a celebratory drink because she left him. Ha. Anyway, my point is, one should avoid assuming that a person who is alone is obviously lonely.

Indeed, someone may voluntarily choose to be alone. I recall discussing with some friends of mine their activities that one might enjoy doing alone. Watching Netflix alone in one's room? Of course, this isn't anything out of the ordinary. Reading a book in a local coffee shop all day long? Yes! How mysterious and intriguing. Going to the cinema alone?... I personally disagreed with this one, as I felt cinemas were solely for awkward first dates when a couple didn't know what to say to each other, but my friend argued that when she went to the cinema alone, she thoroughly enjoyed herself as she was able to laugh as loudly as she wanted to without the fear of being judged by anyone but strangers she would never see again.

Being content in our own company appears to be the way to true happiness. I can place my hand on my heart and say that I am my own best friend. I do not feel the need for constant interaction, as I am perfectly content in my own company. It also takes a degree of confidence to go out and be seen enjoying oneself alone, such as queuing up for the cinema (a level of confidence I have not yet achieved).

So as I sit here, getting pitying looks from the passersby, I just smile. Yes, I am happy. Although I am alone, in no way am I lonely. 

Are they nice?

How can you ask such a question?

Can anyone be simplified to a yes or no answer?

Of course not. Not in a million years could a person be summed up in a yes or no question. It is all purely subjective, depending on the person who is answering the question, how well they know them, and their multitude or lack or experiences with that said person. How can anyone be summed up by another person? Who are they to judge?

My friend asked me this question the other day. And I replied the exact same way as I have transcribed above.

I looked back at him and wondered. Could we describe the stars as 'nice', or the twinkle in the eyes of the person you love, or even the sound of a fresh stream on a summer's evening? Are those things just nice to you?

I looked back at him and smiled. Nobody knows a person as well as they know themselves. There is so much poetry out there, saying how your soulmate will know you better than you know yourself etc, but it's all just poetry. Poetry is there to make you feel something. To provoke an emotion out of you, whether it be of happiness or of sadness. It is not real.

I'm such a strong believer in loving yourself before loving anyone else. At the moment, I'm feeling lost. I'm loving, but I am so caught up in loving others that I have come to neglect the most important person: myself. No, this is in no ways selfish. Loving yourself should be the priority. In the end, you only have you. No matter how much love you have given out and how many people are around you and 'there' for you, it is only ever you who can truly help yourself out of whatever situation you have found yourself in. You must thus know yourself enough to know how to get yourself to where you want to be.

It must be 'nice' to know someone as well as they know themselves. It must be 'nice' knowing someone the way the poetry books describe. It must be 'nice' knowing how their beautiful mind works, or the reason why they smile when they see pink cherry blossoms, or why they plait one strand of hair occasionally, just to let it loose a few days later. It must be 'nice' to fall in love with someone, whether it be romantically or platonically. It must be nice to sit in a room with someone in complete silence and just vibe with them. That must be nice.

And so one final time, I looked at him and took a deep breath in.

"I cannot answer your question." I replied

"But maybe, if you get to know her, who'll realise she is so much more than a yes or no answer."

A Picture of Dorian Gray

This hits hard right now. Thought I'd share it with you as a little reminder of how fleeting time really is.

"When your youth goes, your beauty will go with it, and then you will suddenly discover that there are no triumphs left for you, or have to content yourself with those mean triumphs that the memory of your past will make more bitter than defeats. Every month as it wanes brings you nearer to something dreadful. Time is jealous of you, and wars against your lilies and your roses. You will become sallow, and hollow-cheeked, and dull-eyed. You will suffer horribly.... Ah! realize your youth while you have it. Don't squander the gold of your days, listening to the tedious, trying to improve the hopeless failure, or giving away your life to the ignorant, the common, and the vulgar. These are the sickly aims, the false ideals, of our age. Live! Live the wonderful life that is in you! Let nothing be lost upon you. Be always searching for new sensations. Be afraid of nothing. . . . A new Hedonism -- that is what our century wants. You might be its visible symbol."

My 19th Birthday

I can't believe it. I'm nineteen. It all seems surreal. I feel so old, yet I can already hear future me laughing at myself thinking that I deem nineteen as 'old'. For me it's the last years of teenagehood, so it's quite a big thing.

I am ever to lucky to have an amazing boyfriend who came up from Exeter to visit me. He stayed over the weekend until Thursday, so I managed to spend a lot of time with him before as well as after my birthday. But this is all frivolous - let's get to the big day. 

On Tuesday morning, I awoke with the curtains being opened and the morning sunlight caressing my face. It wasn't hard to encourage me to get up - I was way too excited to stay in bed and rest. I quickly showered whilst Adam*got everything ready. When I came out, Adam had all my presents laid out on the bed. I can't even describe my excitement. As people who know me know, I am obsessed with pandas and the majority of my presents were panda themed. They ranged from panda mugs, to panda face masks to a panda onesie! I can now cuddle my bubby and we can be two pandas together. Who could tell who is the real panda?!

Fortunately, and rather coincidentally, my lectures were cancelled and I only had to attend one seminar that day. Classes finished at 3pm and I had a few hours of napping before having to get ready. Adam had tried so long to keep my birthday surprise a secret, however just the day before, his mother called up and accidentally spilled the beans on where he was taking me as she got the dates mixed up.

'How was the ballet?'

When I first heard this I started laughing. Crazy laughing. I just looked over at Adam and laughed some more. I knew he could never keep anything from me.

I wore my long, navy blue Topshop dress. I guess it's my go-to for all nice social occasions. I paired it with my black choker, my black high heels, and I wore the eye shadow Everly* got me for my birthday. Adam wore a classic black suit which he looked dashing in.

Before the ballet, Adam took me to The Cube in Birmingham. It is a Marco Pierre White restaurant, with 25 floors and the most beautiful aesthetics. We got a table with a view, which cost Adam £10 alone. I personally wouldn't have spent that much, but then again when you see the view over Birmingham on a clear night as it was, one may waiver. The service provided was outstanding, as one would expect it to be, as was the food. I ordered a 10oz Sirloin steak, topped with escargot in garlic and butter sauce. Adam got Mushroom Risotto which was apparently delicious. For dessert, I ordered New York Baked Cheesecake with Fresh Strawberries and Adam got Mr. Coulson's Sticky Toffee Pudding. Additionally, our waitress brought out a complimentary brownie with 'Happy Birthday' written in dark chocolate on the place for me. It was a lovely surprise and I feel that it's the little things like that which make the whole experience a whole lot more enjoyable.

Time flew by at the restaurant. The atmosphere was really relaxing, and before we knew it, two and a half hours had gone passed and if we didn't rush we would have been late for the performance. Adam started dragging me, but ended up carrying me the majority of the way between The Cube and the Hippodrome. We had to run through backstreets, cross motorways, but somehow we managed to get to the ballet on time!

It was our first time seeing a ballet performance and it was such an amazing experience. We saw the Nutcracker, a timeless classic, which we greatly enjoyed. We sat on the balcony, which for me was an advantage since it meant that we could observe the entire stage as well as the orchestra below. The story of the ballet, if one could say ballets ever have storylines, was that a magician came to a Christmas do, and gave one of the girls, Louise, a nutcracker toy. She loved it so much that she spent her night holding her nutcracker under the Christmas tree, but it soon turned into a magical world where she shrunk and danced with all the toys. The transitions between each scene were very smooth and I loved the way a character's emotions were expressed through their actions. I came out feeling awakened, and wishing that I too could dance like them.

All in all, I had a perfect birthday. Thank you to everyone who was there for me on my special day and sent me birthday wishes.





* All names in this blog are fake in order to ensure the privacy of my friends and conceal their identities. However, the characters are all real people and the events actually happened

My First Football Match - Derby x Wolves

I was never really that interested in football. Not that I didn't enjoy the sport, or watching 22 sweaty men run around a ball, but my family were never really into it so neither was I. However, I love to try out new things, and on Saturday, I went to the football for the first time.

My friend Steve* is an avid Derby fan. I think that he's supported the Rams since he was four, and from spending time with him I got enthralled by his enthusiasm and passion for the sport. One day, he noticed that Derby was playing an away game against Wolverhampton, and as it is relatively close to our university, we thought it a good idea to go!

After a, let's say, "heavy" night out in Leamington Spa, we pulled ourselves out of our (separate) beds and got the bus, then train, to Wolverhampton. The journey was cheap for the both of us - £4 on the bus return, and £4 for the train. What shocked me the most when we got off the train was how cold it was. In my stupidity, I thought it would be best to dress fashionably rather than sensibility, and I ended up shivering all the way to the stadium. Steve gave me his Derby scarf which did help considerably, as well as make me look a little more integrated into the crowd in which we became part of. 

We got tickets for the front bench and were therefore able to see the action up close. I feel like we both appreciated this since we're both kinda blind anyway (especially me, whose eyesight is so terrible nowadays...anyway, I digress). Before the game started, I flipped through the program Steve kindly bought for me. It was apparently the best design he'd ever seen and it now holds a position within my memory box. The game soon began, and it was off.

To begin with, I didn't really understand what was going on. Steve and the men behind us started chanting and I bobbed along to try and not seem too out of place. However, after the first goal from Derby (they ended up scoring two goals in the first half - something of a rarity for this season) I became really into it. Well, as into it as I could have been when my toes were glacials. I started recognising the songs that the crowd were singing and bobbed along in time, and cheered my favourite Derby player - Will Hughes, obviously. 

All in all, I really enjoyed myself. Derby won 3-2 against Wolves and Steve and I returned to Uni in good spirits. I would love to see another game one day, but next time I'll be sure to wear a few more layers.

* All names in this blog are fake in order to ensure the privacy of my friends and conceal their identities. However, the characters are all real people and the events actually happened

A Series of Unfortunate Events

For Everly*

Not sure why but Everly has never really come out partying with us. It's either been the excuse of Volleyball or the fact that she's overwhelmed with work. Both of which are lies, because why would one ever spend £9,000 to get active and work towards a first? Nevertheless, this Friday, Everly decided it was time to finally push the boat out and come to Everly for Steve's pre, pre-birthday celebrations.

For these pre, pre birthday celebrations, one of Steve's friends came up. By car.

This is a big thing because since coming to uni, I've had to struggle with the use of public transport and walking everywhere. Therefore, having someone who not only had a car but was willing to drive us places was a massive bonus.

Before going out to Steve's pre, pre-birthday celebrations, we decided to top up on alcohol. To do so, Steve's friend drove us to the local Tescos. When we arrived, Everly and I automatically got a cart and started food shopping. After all, why not take advantage of the fact we could finally do a big food shop without needing to carry it back?

We spent a solid hour and or so going through each and every aisle picking up whatever took our fancy. I mean, Everly went and got a sick pack of Coke cans - c'mon. After what seemed like a mere five minutes (which, by the way, was probably an hour), the three boys who were sharing the car with us came and stared in utter shock at what we were pushing in front of us.

"NO WAY ARE YOU COMING IN THE CAR WITH ALL THAT".

And with these damning words, the snakes left us to walk home with our cartload full of shopping.

But rest assured, this was only the first of our unfortunate events.

After a bit more shopping and a lot more impulse buying, we arrived at the tills. Everly went first, and beep beep beep. Sorry! No alcohol allowed since EVERLY WENT AND FORGOT HER ID! What was worse was that the cashier girl was younger than us and she had the audacity to tell us that Everly couldn't buy her alcohol, despite having adequate University ID.

This was the second unfortunate event, but there is more to come.

We obviously tried to fight the case but we soon gave up, due to pure lack of effort in fighting with a bloody minor. It was now my turn to go through with my copious amounts of food and alcohol. But alas!! Because I was seen as more than an acquaintance with Everly I wasn't allowed to buy my alcohol even though I had my ID with me.

WOE WOE WOE.

For the fourth unfortunate event in the series of unfortunate events, we had to carry about 10kg of food in our bags for more than 10 mins in the freezing cold. I was only wearing a t-shirt, which wasn't the wisest of my ideas, and one of Everly's bags broke on the way back, so we ended up on the floor sobbing surrounded by food and no alcohol.

What a way to start a Friday night out.




* All names in this blog are fake in order to ensure the privacy of my friends and conceal their identities. However, the characters are all real people and the events actually happened

First Week at Warwick

Felix thought it would be funny to do this to my room

I can confirm that university life is everything that I expected it to be. The parties, the friends, the buzz that surrounds you every minute of every day. A minuscule fraction of my time here has passed, but I know for certain that this will be an unforgettable experience.

Before arriving at Warwick, I had to write a short description of myself. It had to include one's bedtimes, our interests, and our preferences. I mentioned that if I was allocated a shared room, I'd wish to be in Sherborne rather than Roots, (as the price difference for shared and single in Roots was marginal). My only other requests were that I was put in a fairly quiet area and that I was away from the kitchen so that I didn't get any bad smells. And where was I put? In a shared accommodation in Roots, right next to the kitchen and where predrinks starts at 5pm and the sesh ends at 6am. Pretty decent.

Nevertheless, I love living in halls and I am settling in well. I share a room with a lovely Romanian girl and we get on really well. Sharing, despite the rumours, is not as bad as it seems. It is in some ways better, as you're nearly always guaranteed a friend, and the rooms are massive. I'm not too sure whether this is the case with other universities, but due to the fact that I share a room, I get the privilege of having an en suite - something which is a massive bonus when you don't wish your flatmates to see you crawl out of bed at 4am in your panda pyjamas.

On my first night here, I went to an MTV event held at the Students' Union. It was great fun, and an amazing way to bond with my new flatmates. We danced to some classic 'bangers' and I made the rookie mistake of taking my card with me. Drinks were flowing, hips were grinding, and we were all having a blast. When I stumbled back into my room at the hour of 3am, I saw two shapes in the bed next to me. I discovered that my roommate was with a boy, but plot twist - they weren't doing anything! Fully clothed, whispering sweet nothings to each other. Their muffled voices kept me up so I went to see my friend who lived opposite me for a while, and only returned when I heard a door shut from the adjacent room (my room). And so, as silent as a mouse, I crept back into my room...only to find the boy was now sleeping in my bed! I had no idea what to do, as I didn't have the guts to push him off nor wake him up, so I slid into bed with him. Hello, I'm Mélissa and on my first night of Freshers', I slept with a stranger! Even worse, when I woke up, I found him spooning me. No idea how that came about. At about 9am he got up, looked at me, smiled, and handed me his phone to add myself on his Facebook. I soon learnt that this was not going to be the most bizarre events I encountered at university. 

Anyway, overall my first week has been a success. Steven* is my neighbour which is great as he too is from Bournemouth. Despite the love of freedom and being away from 'home', I do also like having that kind of grounding and to be able to reminisce about Bournemouth's lil quirks with someone whilst I'm here. In a way, it enables me to not feel homesick. My other flatmates are a great bunch of lively individuals and although are all very different from each other, we have become so close that I genuinely feel like I've known them all my life. Very cliché, I know. No arguments as of yet, and I pray I haven't jinxed this now. But I'll keep you updated.

* All names in this blog are fake in order to ensure the privacy of my friends and conceal their identities. However, the characters are all real people and the events actually happened