While obviously everyone has an entirely different Freshers Week/Fortnight experience, mine I think has been especially unique. There are lots of examples I could cite in order to prove this point: the post-night out snacking on smoked salmon and quail eggs, the fact we've very rarely gone out as a group (or out at all), the fact that we call our common room the Atrium and that our most exciting evenings of Freshers week were dressing two of the boys up in drag and watching Bridget Jones (at the boys request).
But I want to discuss this evening, exactly two weeks after my first night and my only truly drunken Freshers memory - falling spectacularly down the stairs at the SU. I got back from the Literature Societies Pub Quiz (which my team won, by the way, cash prize and everything) and Fi (my neighbour in the house) just got back from a weekend seeing some friends in Leeds. We arrived to the sight of a homemade croquembouche made by two of my other housemates Georgie and Hugo while we'd been out. After devouring that (and sending a hurried Tweet to @BritshBakeOff) we began to discuss the Fact Board.
So the Fact Board needs explaining. On our first night, we christened our common area 'The Atrium' because it sounds more regal and fancy. We began discussing how we'd decorate over the year, including a bust of Hugo and a large house plant on our plinth. Then we decided on a fact board which would display the one major fact we could all agree on: 'Both Kenan and Kel are alive and well'. Afterwards, once we actually put a bit of paper with that fact up, others started appearing. But none rhymed quite as well as the first fact.
When I got back today, I decided to write the facts out nicely and, in doing so, we decided to write them all out like rhymes. For example, 'Roger the Cabin Boy was not a character from Captain Pugwash' became 'Roger the Cabin Boy, oh golly gosh, was not a character in Captain Pugwash'. Then we got cocky and decided to write the last fact out in limerick form. The last fact in itself needs some explanation: the boys bought a poster of a girl on a tennis court with her skirt tucked into her pants so her bum shows. When we discovered how long ago it was shot, we began to wonder if she was dead. And so the fact was added to the board: 'The tennis girl isn't dead but the photographer is.'
Cut to 40 minutes (no exaggeration) of trying to turn that into a limerick. This included frantic Googling to find his name and then reading over five obituaries, texting Dominic to ask for words that rhyme with 'bum' and several drafts, this was the result:
'There was a young lady from Brum,
Who had a fantastical bum,
While holding a racquet
Her squeeze chose to snap it,
To cancer he'd later succumb.'
Then Luke (another housemate, who makes frequent appearances on the same notice-board with a list of his funniest quotes) decided to prove how easy it was to write haikus and then limericks. On this limerick, Luke said 'This could get published, you know.' So here I am, publishing it.
'I loved to play with my lego
I liked to eat lots of Jell-o
I splashed in a puddle
Mum gave me a cuddle
Now I'm grown up [sic]'
We laughed, a lot. More even that at his contributions to the previous poems. So I decided to prove my worth as the English student in the house and contribute an analysis of the poem, drawing on all my knowledge of poetry forms and language.
'Beautiful subversion of the limerick form in order to discuss the hardships of growing up. The last line brings the joyful rhythm to an end, as the narrator's youth is shattered by the harsh reality of adulthood and it's inherent responsibilities.'
It's gone up on the fridge for everyone to see.
