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Grr, Tiger


Lily

Lily is 19 and from Kingston-upon-Thames. She's studying Politics, Philosophy and Economics at York University. Will she survive studentdom on the road to graduation?
Entry: 5
Date: 18/02/2007

So much partying, fundraising and travelling to be done, but so little time to write that essay. Lets play bingo and dress up as wild cats to help us through.

Leopard Lily

"Call me Tigerlily again and I'll bite."

This term has gone by stupidly fast. I was upset to realise I'm at the beginning of week seven, which is seventeen weeks into the academic year. This means that I've got less than half of my first year left - I've only got three years here and then I have to go into the REAL WORLD. And get a proper job...

I swear I'm having palpitations - I need a cup of tea and three biscuits. I remember feeling like this in Year Nine, petrified by the thought of having to pick GCSEs. Ha! GCSEs - I wish. The trouble with higher education is that it overrides the significance of what came before. So my GCSEs ceased to matter once I'd started my A-levels, and then my A-levels were only important to get onto a degree course. So isn't this the end of the line? Isn't this when my results really count? Problem is, unlike school, there's nobody here bugging me to work except me. That essay, which not that long ago I had six weeks to do, is suddenly due in a week and a half.

Finding a house seemed to take half a term, and now suddenly exams are only a few weeks away and tutors are talking about finishing modules. Second-year students laugh at our first-year stresses. The first year is a bit of a gift; it's like a practice year. You have to pass, but the grade itself (for most subjects) doesn't count towards your degree. This is the year to find your feet and learn how to study properly, say the tutors. This is the year to get really involved in societies and community projects, recommends the university. And this is the year to party, add the students.

Hitching to Morocco

I like to think I'm doing a fair balance of each. The most exciting extra-curricular project going on at the moment, aside from mine and Lesley's growing collection of '80s videos, is our plan to hitch to Morocco. I'll be doing this at Easter with students from all over the country to raise money for Link Community Development, which is a charity that raises money for communities in Africa. The aim is to hitchhike down through France and Spain to Morocco and raise at least £300 through sponsorship and fundraising events. I assure you the highlight of the student calendar this term is going to be our fundraising bingo night. Never underestimate the power of irony in attracting students. Bingo? Like old people play? Cool!

"I went for the leopard look, while all the boys thought: "Grr! Army! Manly! Rambo!" All the boys that is, except for the dubious few who like to wear tights - they went as big cats."

Charity is a really big deal on campus, especially RAG (Raising and Giving). Last week I went to the Club of PEP (Politics, Economics and Philosophy) Spring Ball. Any opportunity to wear a dress is a good opportunity, in my opinion. It was a black tie event, including champagne reception, dinner, a swing band, and an after party at a cocktail bar in town. Makes a change from my usual tales of Club D, doesn't it? And whereas I never have any desire to pull a boy in drag at Club D, boys should definitely wear tuxedos more often.

Hear me roar

Speaking of Club D, the best theme night ever recently was called Jungle D. It's amazing that all the girls instinctively thought: "What animal can I be?" I went for the leopard look, while all the boys thought: "Grr! Army! Manly! Rambo!" All the boys that is, except for the dubious few who like to wear tights - they went as big cats. I was lucky enough to bump into a drunken tiger boy. He was very pleased to find another big cat. Swaying slightly, he pinned me against a column.

"How are you finding being a tiger? Grr!" he growled.
"Um, actually I'm a leopard."
"Cool," a long silence ensued. "So, how are you finding being a tiger? Grr."
"I'm still a leopard."
"Oh. So, this..." He pointed from me to him. "This... There's no hope is there?"
"No."

He returned later to ask how I was finding being a tiger, I pointed out once more that I was in fact spotty and he was stripy and directed him to another boy tiger.


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