My University Room

The first time I unlocked the door to my University room and looked inside, I was so full of emotions I wasn't sure if I even liked it or not. We had just spent an hour and a half wedged in my Dad's car, I had already made a mistake collecting all of my student stuff and as I unlocked the door, my hands, my Mum's hands and my Dad's hands were so full of stuff it was a miracle we had carried it that far. I was stood at the door of my new home, worrying that I had brought way too much stuff with me, that I wouldn't make any friends, feeling like I would much rather go home with my parents than stay here without them and feeling a weird mix of not-wanting-my-parents-to-go but also that strange childish being-with-parents-is-uncool. There didn't seem to be any space to think or feel anything about my new room.

The first photo I took of my room; Moving in day, Friday 21st September 2012

I think my first thoughts were something along the lines of: Wow how is it so hot in here?! This is kind of small, oh my god. Wait, I have a wet room thing? Oh well, at least I don't have to share the shower that's fine. Seriously though, what is with this heat? So, I have a big bookshelf and the view isn't bad.. Maybe the size won't matter. I can see the sea!

The first thing put together in my room was my fan. That room gets hot when the sun is shining and the windows are closed and it took the whole day for it to cool down properly. It took us about 2 hours to move all of my stuff in from the car. Only having one lift that went up to floor 5 (my floor) definitely didn't help speed up the process. Neither did the fact that we didn't have one of those handy cage things to put all my stuff in, so everything was carried by hand!

My photo wall.

At about 3pm my parents said their goodbyes and I was left to sort out all of my stuff. One of the clearest memories I have of that room is the first time I was properly alone in it. I stood at my window and waved goodbye to my parents until the car was out of sight. I watched other people bring their stuff into the different buildings before turning and facing the immense pile of stuff covering my floor and bed. I had no idea where to start. I put on one of my How I Met Your Mother DVDs, picked a pile and started unpacking my new life.

The view from my bed; my tv, desk, bookcase, wardrobe, fridge, storage shelves and laundry basket.

It's so weird to think back to my first day in that room. It felt so unfamiliar but at the same time, I could really see myself living there for the next year. Even though I still couldn't believe that I had actually moved out and was living on my own, I felt happy. I was beginning to love my room. It was looking better and better the more of my stuff was put away.

The only way to describe how I felt when I came back to my room later that night was that I felt home. I already felt comfortable and safe in that little space. I'd had such an amazing night with my new flatmates and when I went to bed that night, most of my fears about University had disappeared. I was ready to live in this new place with these new people.

My ensuite. 

Little did I know just how awesome the next year would turn out to be. And even if I didn't spend all my time in my room, it was the anchor point that everything great happened from.

It did have it's own moments though. There were the two talks with Samuel that lasted until 4am. The first night when I broke my full length mirror and cursed the entire flat. The salt revision game with McPake. The many sauce explosions. My utterly fantastic shower. Hearing Johnny shouting at his computer games at 2 in the morning (or at other random times throughout the day). The awful time milk leaked on to my carpet and it took me almost two weeks of intense carpet cleaning twice a day to get rid of the god awful smell. There were tons of photos taken in there and even a Taylor Swift party one night. Having McPake as a next door neighbour and developing a "wall code". All of my event t-shirts were cut on the floor of that bedroom.

The times I had Anthony over and he somehow managed to squeeze himself in to my teeny tiny bed. The first time Soph came over the poor girl slept on cushions and blankets (Sorry about that Sophadoph!). I managed to squeeze the spare mattress in to my room for her second visit. This was also where my sister stayed the first time she stayed over and where Natty B slept when I gave up my room to the girls (it was a nightmare to get in to my bathroom when the mattress was there).

There was revision (or a lack of). There were all-nighters filled with textbooks, Wikipedia and so. much. work. There were drunk nights (even some drunk mornings/days) and just as many hungover mornings. I dread to think how much pizza was eaten in there (or overall over the year).

The last photo taken of me in my room (also the last photo taken of my room). My flowers were the last things to be taken out.

I loved my room. I have so many good memories of it and it felt so much like home. I loved my photo wall and all of the little ornaments I had on my windowsill. I loved the fact that I could see the sea from my bedroom window and how gorgeous the view was when the sun was setting. I loved that it smelt like a caravan whenever I came back from a visit home. I loved my bathroom and the lock on my door and my bed covers, my cushions and my desk chair.
I guess this post is a mix of a goodbye letter and a thank you. A goodbye because yesterday, I handed in the keys to my room and have officially moved out. And a thank you because this room was the beginning of the best year of my entire life. I'm going to miss that room a lot.

Locking the door for the final time. 

Goodbye Preseli 505. I had a blast.