Okay, let's just recap. It's been a while, friends! I’m just gonna dive right in. Pick up where I left off, so to speak, which was actually all the way at the end of 2023. I meant to do a UNC Part 2 review AGES ago, but I didn’t because…because. I forgot. So let’s pretend I didn’t! Let me catch you up on my last 9-10 months.
Starting at UNC, where better to start than [American] football games! Well, potentially many places. But they’re probably some of the most iconic images and memories I actually have at UNC. They make me think of the moments in TV and movies , like in Glee when the Titans are playing and...somehow also dancing to Single Ladies, or This is Us when Kevin's playing and Kate and Rebecca are chatting in the stands, or as they say in the US, bleachers. And of course, the iconic lyric “she’s cheer captain, and I’m on the bleachers”, from You Belong With Me. I actually WAS, on the bleachers, though I never met a cheerleader.
But what are they actually like, I hear you ask? Well, UNC vs Duke was one of the best things I've ever watched (it ended 47-45 after overtime). Honestly the vibe was fantastic and I had such a great time, it was truly a movie moment running on to the field with the people I was with (names are private). Duke, for my English friends, are Carolina’s massive rivals, like it’s a whole identity that we hate Duke - check the merch stores for “We Hate Duke” shirts. But it was also such a dramatic match where one team had the lead, then the other, Carolina equalising in the final few minutes and then it going to overtime, Duke fumbling their final play in overtime at my end….look, this stuff means something to me, okay?? Despite the culty vibes, the "school spirit", as they say, is something strong and genuinely inspiring, even if it's the corniest thing you ever did see.
But an average game is far less dramatic than that, both for the lack of the rivalry and anticipation - queues were much more intense and long than usual, and also the quality of the games were lower than Duke vs UNC most of the time. Well, all of the time. Not to say they were bad, I think my opinion of American football has definitely improved. It’s thoroughly overstimulating because (I think symptomatic of the American approach to life) everything has to be fun. You can’t have a dull moment, so even though the breaks are constant you have cheer routines, competitions to win stuff, random moments where the announcers effectively proclaim that you have to dance. I. Don’t. Dance. Although thanking my lucky stars, there was no kiss cam, which I am honestly of the belief is one of the worst inventions in human history. But American football games are cool, especially at UNC, I love how culturally significant a part of uni life they are, and you can say you had a good time even if you have no clue how American football works.
As for my writing, I was an unintentional genius for making my Daily Tar Heel writing day Thursday, because they don't work on Fridays and Saturdays. DTH city and state party was one of my favourite nights of the whole time because, well, one, I got to drink, and two, everyone was so lovely there! It’s such a nice vibe that there’s different communities at UNC, it’s really cool, though they’re much more skint on societies. Anyway I was really proud of my DTH work, because I found it super hard at first but my editors were just so supportive (it’d be so funny if they read this lol) and it felt so rewarding once you actually completed a story. I still have the cutouts of my stories and put them up on my wall.
Moving on, my diet was shit! But I also went to the gym a lot ? However, I didn't do gym stuff at the gym. Listen, I know my technique is wrong. I can't even really run correctly, apparently I subconsciously flap my arms a lot like one of those inflatable big red men at American car dealers. (I know of these from movies, not from study abroad.) So God forbid me trying to lift weights, I’ll do a few kilometres on the treadmill then go home. A free gym is a good gym, to be fair. Honestly towards the end of my time there I could feel myself getting out of shape, which did wonders for my ego, let me tell you. Which wasn’t the best thing when my time mainly needed to be used for studying.
That said, food was easier. Don't get me wrong, it's bad. Well, the Chase Dining Hall food is usually meh. Lenoir Hall is half-decent. Bojangles - which is a chicken and chips shop - is a national treasure even if it's trashy. I'm getting off topic. But holy crap, I forgot how after never cooking meals for myself, basically, ever (?) before last year, I was like "yes, now I want to only cook for myself". And then for this term I was like "as I don't have a kitchen, I will have precisely zero meals made by myself". When you take as much time cooking as I do-simple cooking instructions confuse me-dinner becomes a real debacle. At Bristol, I stick to bread-y meals at breakfast and lunch, toast and sandwiches type stuff, or leftovers if I need to get rid of previous dinners. Dinners themselves take 2 hours for something that my instructions will say takes 30 minutes. So while the workload has been bigger at UNC, you have the lack of time spent on meals to really help. Well, I did develop an addiction to watching videos on my phone whilst eating. I'm not perfect.
So basically I could really tell that cooking for myself and buying groceries for myself-which is often worse-would shatter me when I get back to my beloved Brizzle. And it has! But yeah, it's gross looking at plates that look permanently stained in dining halls, that feels like a problem. I still can't help but feel like if an American went to a British uni for an exchange they'd be shocked and horrified and disgusted and all the things at the state we keep our kitchens in, mouldy food and all the dishes left out and whatnot. (It's not just me, and I'd like to think partly isn't me, there literally used to be an Instagram called UoB Scrans where people send photos of the grossest food possible to them.) That also feels like a problem.
I still loved watching Bake Off across the pond, it was a real comfort when I was there. I recommend anyone going to the US to get a VPN btw (I'm not sponsored, I wish I was). In case you're wondering, I tried four VPNs and I'd say Surfshark was the most reliable. But it was cool staying in touch with home comforts like shows and football (English football, the one where you use your feet;)). Weirdly enough, I watched Chelsea versus Man City the day after the Duke vs Carolina game, and I switched from backing the light blue team to the dark blue team. If I had a nickel (I still don’t know what that is) for every time a “football” match featured a team I was invested in, involved a dark blue and sky blue team, and was one of the best sporting matches I’d ever watched that got me the most passionate I’d ever been about sports, well… I’d have two nickels, within the space of two days.
My English accent did not make me immediately interesting to everyone I met! How dare you, America! I thought you guys were obsessed with our accents. Actually, I did try and hide mine a little. The funniest comment I got on my accent was that when I went to get my hair cut the barber initially thought I had a speech impediment when I started talking to him. In fairness, I do think I tried to hide my accent a little bit because I’m socially anxious, but it would’ve been a better idea to accentuate it because it IS, in fairness, a point of interest. But yeah, speech impediment feels harsh. Don’t judge, English people. Americans aren’t the stereotypes English people make them out to be. Or, often they are, in a more wholesome way. I think English people may be a little bit collectively shy and quiet, Americans are often a lot more vocal and not in a bad way.
Their class discussions are a lot more lively - overall, academically, I had a far more fulfilling experience at UNC than I have ever at Bristol, though I probably prefer life in Bristol as a whole due to the city and friendships I’ve made. But the variety and superior creativity of how I was assessed, the way my knowledge was reinforced instead of having me focus it all on a specific topic for a limited time, and significantly the fact you are way less limited in terms of what classes you can take all combined to make me actually feel like an academic weapon, as they say. I say this as opposed to the pretence of being this so-called “academic weapon” that I often feel in the UK, given the lack of fulfilment I feel from the muted discussions and assessments that don’t really test your skills in your field, but rather how good you are at scampering back through slides and articles you haven’t looked through in ages but need to now. I’m honestly so proud of myself for going through and being a bit of a badass studying and working my arse (ass(?) off to keep up. When I got to UNC I had an initial crisis because I thought everyone was smarter, and I couldn’t keep up with all the readings and discussions and everything. I then realised pretty much everyone is faking it till they make it - as is the case with real life - and that I just needed to prioritise my studying in a healthy way. I survived and, well, call me Elle Woods, because I got a 4.0. :)
You’re probably wondering about frat parties, and if I went to any, and were they good. I went to a few, and they’re fine. The actual lifestyle is something I could never take part in, I’d like to say because it promotes a stupid university hierarchy based on wealth, but it’s more because I’m shy and it involves being way too “bro-y”. Also, no one cares that much about them. I went to a concert where there wasn’t really any alcohol - just a large crowd, a lot of flashing lights and a decent band - a Christmassy frat party with some friends which was nice, but I do think the first one I went to, on the first night, set up some unrealistic expectations for my time there.
So I went with my roommate and a group of his friends (whom I all was really glad to have met), to this fraternity on the first night I can’t remember the name of, but it could’ve been any combination of Greek letters. So it was almost exactly a scene out of a movie, super crowded, room full of hyper masc guys, drinking beer and playing beer pong (they just called it pong) with red solo cups, and the music was loud, but mostly unrecognisable. Apart from one song, I’ll get to that in a bit. So I wasn’t fully feeling the vibe until I got to play some pong, which was fun, and I felt myself relaxing a little with the beer I had, although I don’t really like beer. I then played some kind of other weird pong game where you pass along a cup you have to bounce the ball into, and prevent another cup - which is going round the circle with the same activity - from catching up to yours, and if it does you have to drink from one of the cups in the middle?? It’s hazy, now.
I wasn’t actually as bad as I thought I’d be at that game, due to my lack of processing skills for supposedly easy things, poor coordination in general or, as my sister theorises, possible dyspraxia. Either way, being awful at it would’ve been a terrible impression to make on a bunch of intimidating American guys as a dorky British quiet guy who didn’t understand their easily understandable college game. However, someone screwed up just before it was my turn, so I drew the short straw and lost at the end of the game and I had to chug the last cup, which involved combining all the other beer cups into one.
As I chugged, I questioned “am I gonna be able to swallow this all in one go? Am I gonna choke??” And I DIDN’T. I took it like a man. I looked like a complete badass, because of course the true measure of masculinity is to drink alcohol quickly. (In all honestly, I had to borrow my friend’s shirt because I spilled a whole lot of beer down my own.) But it did feel like a movie moment chugging the beer and having a crowd cheer for you. That was cool as fuck. And it set my expectations too high! I think that whole first week, my first week living in America properly, set my expectations wayyy too high. As opposed to jumping right into things as we do in the UK with studying - 12 weeks of classes as opposed to 16 - and needing to do some preparatory readings beforehand, the first few days before classes really kick into gear in the US - and then they really kick into gear so a lot of uni life is, shockingly, to do with studying - are sheer bliss. I got to have my nice first night out and just hang out with people at different residences, it was all very chilled and laid-back, I went to a couple concerts, one at a house party and another a capella one after the FDOC (first day of classes).
This feels like another lifetime ago. In truth, it was actually over a year ago. There’s a million things I could and should have mentioned in more detail - what Halloween was like there, my DTH articles and going to a cheese shop for “research” where I accidentally uncovered significant news about a gig venue relocating. On October 27th I went to a Gatlin concert and met her opener, BEL (Isabel Whalen) which was really cool and fun and then I got to listen to 1989 Taylor’s Version - which had come out that day - on the way back. Insomnia Cookies was something I discovered and God it’s one of my favourite things even though it’s SO unhealthy. For reference, the only one of these in the UK is in Manchester, and thanks to my life experiences at UNC I am a complete Southern Belle:). No, I’m kidding, I’ve just lived in the south of England my whole life. I got to interview a student author in a cute bookstore/hot chocolate shop (see my previous articles). I interviewed loads of other people over Zoom and it really helped my self-confidence.
These are just vibes and faded memories now! I had an incredible experience and met great people and so I have no regrets, except that I wish I had been more extroverted and fearless and I’m TRYING to take that into my daily life, constantly.* The therapy I received there was more helpful than any I’ve ever received in the UK, so I think I’m an improved person both for the advice and the experience I plunged myself into, I can see the difference I took to my last term in Bristol. But even if I can’t take anything real or profound or anything from UNC - which isn’t the case - I can still say that you haven’t truly lived till you’ve seen a room full of drunk American frat guys drunkenly yelling “Country rooooooadds, take me homeeeeee, To the plaaaaaace, I belooooooooong, West Virginiaaaaaaaaa….” on your first night studying abroad.
*actually, that was a lie, my other regret is not going to my audition for the a capella group the Clef Hangers, and becoming a Pitch Perfect guy. Ah well.
I think last term at Bristol has been my favourite so far at uni. I do still have some of the same insecurities and I'm still finding stuff out about myself, which is cool, I think that's the point of university to an extent. I learnt last term about my overly high expectations which made me question how well I know myself. How can a person who is apparently a MASSIVE perfectionist not realise it?
I think what I thought perfectionism was was literal expectations of perfection, but it's not. My expectations of myself are, I'm realising, to function like a regular human being - or, more like the superpowered version of myself - to the rating of like, 8 or 9 out of 10. If I want every day to be great but not PERFECT, I can’t be a perfectionist right??? I thought since I wasn't expecting everything to be flawless, that I didn't think every day would be life-changing, this was a perfectly reasonable expectation of things. I know better now that some days are gonna be 6/10, and some days 5, and some days can literally feel like a 0, it happens. It's oddly empowering to know that you're doing something, just by existing, getting through the day, that's allowed. What a novel concept for someone obsessed with being productive!
I nonetheless think I had a reason for expecting things to be a bit, well, amazing in Chapel Hill, because a study abroad experience is supposed to be, well, memorable. And it was, actually. I was extremely conscious of the fact when I was there it was an unusual and unique period in my life. I’d literally think to myself “this is such an ODD period in my life!! I have had NO experiences like this before, I’ve never lived in such a different place”.
Anyway, I've also been a bit more extroverted this past term, I think the fact no one really goes clubbing anymore is helpful, given I never got the appeal of it. Everyone knows the best part of the night is pres, so..why not make the pres the main event? So I invite people to stuff more, I think, or suggest things to do a bit more. I also have a tennis coaching job now, which is nice on the bank account, and let to me doing a fun internship in Seville this summer, which was awesome. So yeah, on the face of it I really did have a good few months in second term.
To go back to UNC, since getting back it's been almost hard to believe I did it. I have so little time to reflect, and the more I don’t reflect the more I don’t process everything I did, all the great things (and the bad things), hence why it took me so long to publish this. I think my biggest disappointment from UNC was that I just didn’t plunge myself into things and open up to people a bit more. I’m still working on it, but I have a better mindset now, which is basically, “hey, what’s the end of the world if you ask someone to hang out and they don’t want to? You move on”. Ugh. I sound like I’m giving dating advice. Still true.
I almost think that actually going back to Chapel Hill someday might make it all come flooding back...but that's a bit of a fantasy. I've learnt I have a tendency to "visualise" a lot, which is not necessarily a bad thing but again, I do think I should live in the moment a bit more. This is something I’ve discussed in therapy and yeah, I’m working on it.
I almost think publishing this will bring me closure from that period of my life, actually. People talk about closure as an aftermath thing after something sad, quite often, but I don’t think it necessarily has to be. I should mention that I’ve not read any articles or done any research to back this up, I am just a silly little man sharing his own thoughts and opinions. But I feel like closure is just closing that chapter, excuse the cliche, and leaving that part of your life in the rearview, even if that time was actually, when you think about it, a pretty good time.
On to this past term at Bristol, I often tell people this has been the best term at university so far. Honestly, I was kind of on track for one of my best periods I can remember having. For a few weeks I was just having the absolute best time I think around March time. A friend who I hadn’t seen for a while asked if I was having a good term when I met them for coffee, and I said it was my favourite at uni, but I couldn’t actually explain why. I think a combination of things - eating better, feeling more at home at Bristol in my new house, just being less afraid of asking people to hang out than I was in Carolina, there being more things to do in general - made me feel that way.
I don't like to talk about the specific details of other people in my life, but something happened over the Easter holidays that made me question whether I was really doing as well as I thought I was. And that can happen sometimes. In this case, it was specifically a thing I was certain was my fault, and I felt weird talking about the specifics of it till months later. But, to preach typical British values, “keep calm and carry on-” no, I’m just kidding. But I think I do have a similar approach to life in this way. I just kind of…carry on. Because I have to, because I have important shit to do, I have people in my life who I’m excited to see, and I’m also allowing myself to think they’re excited to see me. So I carry on because there’s not really much else to do. Hindsight is a stupidly convenient viewpoint.
And also, the end of term had so many wonderful things happen. So you know, you just keep going until things get better, which sounds privileged because it is. Because I’m in a fortunate, possibly privileged enough position in life to think things will always work out in the end, and if they don’t it’s not the end (the last piece of advice from my form tutor in Year 13). So yeah, we live in a world where a lot of bad stuff is happening, but allow yourself to be optimistic! (Checks notes: stop turning this into a self-help blog.)
Look, the point is that I was doing great, then I had a bad time, had a crisis, moved on because I had to. I’m glad I did. I’m not saying “just move on”, but let it suck for a while, and then eventually the world will distract you enough and something nice will hopefully happen. Or make it happen. I don’t know, make of that what you will.
So those great things towards the end of term, I was in a play, that was fun. I managed to throw a party without having an anxiety attack, and I realised how honestly fab I find all of my friends. And I felt more secure in looking for friends, and put less pressure on myself to make every interaction an overwhelmingly positive one. I went to end of year events and felt good about things as they were.
And yet I think between these wonderful things at the end of term, the last few days were almost marred by my anxiety over my upcoming journey to Spain. And that was so stupid in the end! Because, honestly Spain was pretty damn great. I honestly can’t say much about it - I thought the internship was too good to be true at first, because I got to live in a town in Seville, got paid, played and coached tennis, watched the Euros and Wimbledon and then the Olympics, I had very nice company :) I mostly ate out, I spent pretty much all of my days doing something fun or relaxing or eating froyo. Like, I ate a lot of froyo. And I even improved my Spanish. Slightly. I’m still pretty bad at it and my Duolingo owl now looks on death’s doorstep. It’s downright terrifying.
As I come towards the end of this summer where I’ve had largely an incredible time but at times had a lot of introspection, I think my social anxiety is a lot better. I’ve gotten over a few things in particular, my fear of being annoying is a lot lessened, or at least the blaming myself for that is. I’m a delight when you get to know me, trust me, but yeah, I’m gonna do things that annoy you. I try way too hard to be funny, I never know whether to say or not say anything, I’m probably hyperactive and bouncy when you’re on death’s doorstep, and depressingly grumpy when you’re in a good mood. I do a bunch of terrible accents. I have a vaguely irritating voice - wait, wasn’t I supposed to be talking about improved self-esteem?
The point of all of this is that I’ve actually learned that all of this is out of a need to keep myself and other people happy, and or sane. I’m kind of learning to stop apologising just for being me, and my new policy is that those quirks that make me irritating aren’t something I should stop if they’re annoying, people should love me in spite of them. Don’t get me wrong, if they’re harmful, if they make people uncomfortable, stop doing the things, immediately. I’m still terrified of this and I can’t fully understand why, but offending people and making them dislike me is a massive worry for me. But I’m honestly just a weird person, and I can’t really change that, so you’re stuck with my quirks as much as I am. I like to think these things largely make me interesting and fun to be around, though. And yes, maybe I started to learn this from a book. It doesn't make it less true. (Surprisingly, not a self-help book, a novel.)
So here’s to more of of this summer, which was books, froyo, tennis, the Eras Tour (check my personal Insta), realising shit about myself and generally a good time. Aaaand not much work. Which is about to hit me like a ton of bricks, I’m sure. But oh well.
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