Growing Pains

Something surprising has happened over the past few months; I think I’m finally growing up. At the start of the year I turned 23, hardly geriatric, but truth be told if my younger self looked a year ahead and saw me now I feel that she’d describe me as that word I once dreaded the most: boring. And I’m perfectly happy with that.

 A friend recently asked me on a night out in my hometown and I politely declined. The idea of spending a good hour layering on make-up and agonising over which black dress to wear (I swear they’re all so different) to spend an eye-watering sum of money on radioactive looking shots (drinks should not be acid green), only to wake up next to a greasy, potentially food poisoning inducing kebab did just not appeal to me.

I’m being hyperbolic of course, I’ve had some fantastic nights out in my hometown but of late I just can’t seem to fathom the idea of spending my night sticking to a club floor when I could be in bed indulging in a novel or my latest Netflix find. Bacardi and coke? I’ll stick to a peppermint tea and my book on the Brontës, thanks.

I recently took a walk down memory lane and returned to Nottingham, the city where I spent three years living as a student. It didn’t quite feel the same. During my gap year working I would escape to Nottingham any chance I got to visit my friends there. I suspect a secondary reason to my frequent visits was partial denial at the fact that I had graduated and wasn’t quite where I expected to be in life. I clung onto how walking through Lenton, my former stomping ground, made me feel like a student again, the future still full of possibility while the luxury of not having a definite plan was just part of the package.

I can’t pinpoint the change in my attitude, although I suspect it probably shifted when I began studying at Sheffield. Rather than view my MA as retreating back into a security of student life, I approached it knowing that it would pass quickly and that I would have to consider the future from the minute I stepped foot on campus. It’s daunting but I’ve embraced it. During my gap year I felt stilted; despite having a full time job I was hovering about and didn’t feel quite like an actual adult while I was so fresh out of uni. Ironically, returning to university has made me feel more grown up than ever.

We reached peak Ocean in 2013

During my recent trip to Nottingham I returned to a student club where I spent many boozy nights as an undergrad. I swore I’d never grow tired of the place, from its overpriced VK chasers to the eclectic playlist that jumped from the Arctic Monkeys to Paul Simon to S Club 7 within an hour. “I’m too old for this shit,” I told my friend, barely audible over ‘Lady Marmalade’ (told you the music was brilliant).

The real sour cherry on top of the cake was when the only member of the opposite sex outside the group I was with spoke to me: “So are you a first year then? What hall are you in?” he asked. “No, I’m 23,” I replied. I then gave this very fresh-faced fresher a pearl of wisdom that I certainly didn’t take on board when I was 18: “you’re going to have the best three years of your life. Enjoy every minute. It’ll be over before you know it.”

I felt like I’d moved on from my days in Nottingham, being there felt like I was replaying a happy memory in my mind, in a ‘been there, done that’ sense. And so my friend and I left before midnight, got in our cosiest PJs, had a cup of tea and played a game of monopoly. This ‘boring’ life isn’t so bad after all…

NG <3

Cat photo credit: David O'Hare via Flickr

Post Uni Blues

It's been a year since I graduated now. A whole year! That's a scary thought. But with this daunting reflection also comes pride when I see my friends graduating this year donning their mortarboards and robes as I scroll through my timeline. Never was the Facebook 'Love' reaction more applicable.

A few months after graduating I hit a wall and suddenly the question of what I wanted to do with my life kept me up at night. I'd always wanted to be a journalist but then came another worrying thought: how on earth would I find my way into the industry? That's the problem with negativity, one worry snowballs into another. Around that time I was feeling ever more nostalgic for my student days and I published this article on my Wordpress site.

I thought now would be a fitting time to reshare it. The moral of the story? Everything will be ok. It just takes a little time and perseverance to enter the big, scary adult world. I don't know a single person who fell straight from final year into their dream job. Sometimes taking time out to think and revaluate is invaluable. So many of my friends who graduated at the same time as me are now starting to settle into their careers and I couldn't be prouder or more excited for them. As for me? A year out has given me clarity and focus, and the determination to pursue journalism.

Originally Published September 2015:

Ahhhhhh. That’s the long drawn-out sigh of me coming to the realisation that now September is coming to a close a new set of freshers are currently embarking on the wonderful rollercoaster that is starting university life.
 
It has now been 3 years since I also made this transition from the mollycoddled security of sixth form and my parents’ home to become a newly independent, little fresher (and I use that term literally, for me Freshers’ 14 was unfortunately no myth). This September, however, for the first time I am not returning to formal education as the perpetual student status I held for 17 years will officially be redundant.

Quite frankly, it’s terrifying. No schedule. No one instructing you on what to do and when it needs to be done by. I always moaned about returning to school as a child but I secretly relished in it: the promise of a fresh start, the intellectual progression of moving up a year, and most importantly the trip to WHSmiths to buy that shiny, new pencil case. Essentially, September has always been more of my ‘new year’ than January ever has.

The preparation for the sudden halt to the conveyor belt of education has been slowly introduced over the years. First it started with free periods in sixth form. Expectation: Heading up to the library and spending an afternoon being oh-so-studious. Reality: Lounging in the common room playing Shithead (a card game) and hiking up the road to Macdonalds. Then came the uni days. Spending a mere 12 hours on campus was certainly a welcome shock.

Luckily I do still have an outlet to pretend I’m a student. This weekend I got to go back to my uni town and spend time with my friends who are still studying. It was then that I realised it is the student lifestyle I miss the most. I miss the “it’s ok, I’m a student” approach to life. Yes, it is perfectly acceptable to live off instant noodles, order another round (or five) of sambucas or spend all day in bed as a student. As an adult not so much. Unfortunately there is no student loan payment coming every 4 months once you enter the big, bad world.

I even miss the library. Yes, the library. Something I never thought I’d feel, let alone admit. Those times were dark: the all-nighters, the overpriced cappucinos, the many breakdowns when my laptop died and I forgot to hit save. But some laughs were had there also, especially when procrastination was the goal. I suppose it’s like a break up; you hone in on the positives. A big chesire cat smile comes across my face when I recall the nights that ended in the best way, eating questionably cheap pizza while having a heart to heart with my nearest and dearest. Yet I don’t quite seem to reminisce how awful I felt the following day. I look back with affection at my last student house, somehow forgetting the occasional slug infestation and icy atmosphere on a winter morning.


I heard a quote recently that struck a chord: “Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened”. What a brilliant way to view life. University was undoubtedly the best time of my life so far, but it was only one chapter and there are many more to come. I will always have the memories to look back on but now it’s time to create some new ones.

So a word to the wise for this year’s freshers: enjoy it. Every last minute of it because it really will be the best 3 years of your life and it will be gone before you know it.

NG <3

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Photo Credit: John Walker via Flickr.

We Were On A Break

Greetings, it's been a while. A very long while. On a whim I scrolled through NG a few weeks ago, partly out of curiosity, partly to indulge in nostalgia. I smiled as I looked through old posts, the connections established with fabulous bloggers from around the world and nostalgia soon snowballed into motivation; it's time to start blogging again.

I didn't stop posting for any reason, something reflected in my last post, dated 29th March 2016, a list of my favourite lip products. Life just got in the way. I hit third year and the work piled up, I became an editor for my student magazine and time that wasn't spent in the library or magazine office was spent with friends, enjoying our last year of all living together in Nottingham. When I graduated I had a summer deciding what I wanted to do with my life, researching different options, before eventually settling on my first plan of action, go back to uni and get an MA. I can't wait to begin this September.

I've missed blogging, having a platform to create a conversation, express your opinion, discovering new, exciting blogs. I'm wondering why I ever left.

See you very soon,

NG <3

Lace on lace

There is something so romantic and enticing about lace. I will forever be a fan. And it has infinite powers. Lace can create a vintage facade. Lace can create a very sophisticated sexy. Lace can transform you into an English rose. Today I went for double lace, the casual way. The word 'double' when referring to textures and materials can have nauseating consequences-think double denim done badly. But rather than going OTT I opted to keep it just on top layering a lace waistcoat atop a lace, embellished top.

Of course, when running round campus in November much more is needed than a waistcoat to keep the goosebumps away so enter the trusty wool Winter coat and boots.

I'm wearing a Zara coat, Barratt's boots, Boohoo top and shopper, New Look jeans, Primark belt and H&M necklace. Oh, how I do love the British high street.

It's only Tuesday and it's already been a busy week, full of essays, assignments, reading, and not to mention my first poetry piece that I'm reading on Thursday! I'm not much of a verse writer so let's see how it goes. Fingers crossed it'll be more Armitage than 'keep at arm's length'.

Hope you're all having a great week-how did you guys celebrate Bonfire night? I spent it learning to ballroom dance whilst gazing out the window at fireworks, not the most seasonal of celebrations, I'm sure you'll agree. Stay wrapped up and warm!


NG <3

Wise words

"There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written or badly written"

-Oscar Wilde

NG <3

Starter for 10

I have some amazing news to share! I'm very pleased to inform you that I have a place at the University of Nottingham to study English Language and Literature after meeting my target grades at A-level! Alongside brushing up on my English skills I'll be blogging from Nottingham about student life, style, culture, interests and just general NG stuff. I'm so excited to be one step further to my dream career and to be going to such a prestigious university with graduates like D.H Lawrence. Tough footsteps to follow in, but here's hoping.

 

 Celebratory champers!!

So stick around, things are about to get a little more mature and a whole lot more crazy ;)

NG <3