We all know how it is. You’ve probably picked this up off your new kitchen table, which is probably covered in a variety of stains of a colour and viscosity that you’re pretty sure weren’t present in anyone’s glass last night. The main reason for picking up this most noble of papers is that you’re probably trying to find a way to distract yourself from the feeling that your stomach is currently trying to escape the confines of your body through any available exit. Welcome to Freshers.
Still, in approximately 8 hours’ time this won’t matter because you’ll be dressed in a costume that you previously thought you’d never be caught dead in. You’ll be treating someone you met fifteen minutes ago in a random flat like you’re best friends (stranger danger does not apply during Freshers, invasions of privacy become chances for lifelong friendships) and you’ll realise that assuming everyone plays the same ring of fire / international consumption rules as you do is a grave mistake to make. Just so you know a good standard is left hand, beverages must be a thumb’s distance from table, when pennying you must know the year on the penny, don’t say M.I.N.E, don’t say couple, always double tap, no first names, no blasphemy and no pointing. This seems like a lot now, but in a few weeks you’ll know it far better than your lecture schedule. This is the beauty of Freshers Week, and to a certain extent being a Fresher in general, you literally have no fucks to give the world. Not one you lucky little bastards. Welcome to a festival that lasts a year.
At this point I’ll give a little explanation of bite for those who are new to the University of Bath, or the people who’ve been here for years and never got this far into the paper. We’re the magazine so obviously we cover the latest music stuff, film stuff, book stuff, creative stuff and all that jazz (like that shit too? Hit is up, join us, we’re awesome and have cake). Even though Bath is a more scientific / engineering based university there’s rather a lot of us and to quote Robin Williams / Mr Keating while being about as clichéd as a You Me At Six chorus, “medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for”. On top of this we also have a theme each week for our main articles. This is basically a chance for us to write and rant about whatever pops into our head that day over a few pages and (usually) a pretty double page spread. However this issue is a shortened one (we normally have a metric fucktonne of other good stuff too, you’ll find out all about it next issue never fear) so the theme this week is rather brief, but if you’re wondering why this idiot is rambling on about nothing in particular, that’s why.
Anyway back to the point, if you can call it that. You guys are effectively living in a little bubble outside the real world in which a nine to five is more likely to mean a drinking session than a working one. Make the most of this opportunity, for as Benjamin Franklin once said, “Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy” (last cheesy quote I promise!). On top of this there’s just the pure random shit that you usually only find in a University or in a gigantic muddy field full of people who are doing they’re upmost to make it feel like they’re not in a gigantic muddy field. Here are a few little stories to emphasise this point.
I’ve been walking along a road and found myself confronted by a man seated regally in a camping chair and dressed creatively in used Budweiser boxes and cans. His loyal followers dubbed him the Beer Pope and commanded us to be blessed from his holy can and spread the message of intoxication.
I’ve been accosted by a man called Asian Mike (while he was neither Asian or called Mike and to this day I still don’t know why he’s called Asian Mike, why Joe? WHY?!) and we started a walking band that involved a pink guitar and a box of Shreddies as percussion (also Joe, why did you have the Shreddies? It was 3am in the morning Joe; we were miles from your house! How did you get them Joe? HOW?!).
One of my friends met his soon to be best friend to be nice and drunk, nice and naked and nice and clingfilmed to a lamppost during the middle of the night. After this introduction there’s not much to hide in a friendship is there?
Another friend took it upon himself to lighten up his dreary accomadation and, showing trememndous creativity we may add turned a lift into a Tardis. Just a little FYI this may be a teensy bit frowned upon by certain areas of staff so maybe don’t do it here on campus.
Myself and two friends dressed (poorly I might add) as Blink 182 jumped into a pool (don’t try this at home) with Slash from Guns N’ Roses (it probably wasn’t the real Slash, but I was a tad drunk at the time so we can’t be sure) while someone dressed as Peter Pan watched. A few minutes later Aquaman (well, a dude in a green wetsuit and a sticker) decided this was also something that needed to be done and off he went… he was Aquaman so he was safe kids, still don’t do this at home.
As soon as you read the first issue of Minty Fresh you’ll find stories that make these look ridiculously tame, for example just ask any second year about the exploits of a certain Mr. Floppy. Then once you start joining societies and clubs you’ll hear of the exploits of the older members that at first you honestly won’t believe are real (Snowsports is usually a good place to start) and the first socials… well, I’ll let you learn that for yourselves.
Obviously there are limitations to how far you can take this idea. For example if you get ridiculously shitfaced the night before Frank Turner plays at a festival you’re likely to be in no state to enjoy him the next day. Obviously the same principle applies to going to a social the night before you have an exam. These are of course disproportionately important events but I exaggerated for effect, always see Frank Turner. Always.
I believe that with that little parental advisory segment I can bring this spiel to its close. Seriously make the most of this first year. Make sure you don’t treat it just as a 40% and nothing else year, but when else are you going to get to have an entire year to find yourself, learn a fuckload about something that you love and have an amazing time with someone else’s (admittedly borrowed) money. This principle also extends to all your other years here at Bath. Even when the marks count towards your degree and the gaps between getting so drunk you projectile vomit off the U18 get larger, you’ll still be living the dream compared to those in the *shudder* real world. Make the most of it.
Guess there’s not much else to say but welcome to Bath. Don’t drink too much. Definitely don’t drink too little. Try and go to a lecture every known again. Try not to be a cunt.