Result

So I have a confession.

I've been running from this blog for several weeks. 

By that I mean I've been avoiding it, because I knew that in my next post I'd have to mention graduation (after all, my time at university, and leading up to it has been a constant theme during the past four years of this blog!). It wasn't really graduation that I was dreading talking about, though of course, my family did manage to embarrass me in front of one of my tutors, and I did find parts of the day quite awkward and hard to get through. Why? Because how do I communicate to my family what the past three years in college have meant to me? How can I explain to them the life I lived, which, since leaving Oxford, no longer even makes sense to myself. 

Anyway, what I was really dreading was having to discuss my exam results. And yes, I do have to talk about them, because I've always written a quick comment about my results, through GCSE, AS-level, A-level and Prelims. Let's be real - studying is something I take seriously and for the past four years or so it has pretty much formed a major part of my life. 

Which is probably contributing to the slightly lost feeling I'm experiencing right now, with my job not starting until 5th August, and having literally no work to do, at all, for the first time since I can remember. I digress. 

I'll cut to the chase; after getting a Distinction in my first year exams I really, really, really wanted to get a First in my Finals exams. It didn't happen. 

In retrospect I realise that I was very lucky with my first-year result - I got an average of 68 or 69% and they rounded up, This year I finished with an average of 68% and they didn't. I got a 2:1. 

Graduation in the Sheldonian theatre, not my photo :P

I should start by saying that there is absolutely nothing wrong with getting a 2:1, it's a good mark and reflects many years of work etc. etc. However, I was especially disappointed as I had achieved a First in a couple of papers, and was 1 mark off a First in my Extended Essay, but was let down by two exams that got a low 2:1. That's the brutality of the Oxford system - you work solidly (as in, almost everyday for 3 years, including 'vacations') and do well in coursework, but ultimately your marks are determined by a week's worth of exams at the end of your third year. If you have a bad couple of days, it undermines a lot of the effort that you put in to the previous 75 tutorial essays.

So, this has been a slightly unpleasant learning experience for me. It has made me re-evaluate my past three years at university - my experiences do not resemble those of my friends at other universities at all - yet I have the same degree classification as many of them. I'm trying extremely hard not to be bitter about the people I know who (having also worked hard) got Firsts, either at Oxford or other universities. This is what it feels like to throw everything at the target, exhausting yourself in the process, and still miss. It hurts. Big time.

I'm getting there though. Several of my friends had exactly the same experience as me - missing the degree classification they wanted by just a couple of marks overall. We're setting ourselves new targets, and telling ourselves that after our first job, no one will care what marks we got anyway. Perhaps that's true.

I felt ill the night before my graduation. What if I was confronted by my tutor? (Everyone in my class had presumed I'd get a First...) What if my peers kept coming up to me and asking about my marks? Would we have to stand up in order of degree classification? Luckily my fears were largely unfounded, though I did have the bizarre experience of staying a hotel room located opposite my third-year room, which was unnerving. I could literally look into the window where I'd spent so many sleepless nights working, and where I'd returned distraught after a couple of disastrous exams...

After some reflection I've realised several important things;

a) Before I came to university I would have been perfectly happy with being told that I would get a 2:1, and do some fun extra-curriculars. I have achieved this,  
b) Before getting my Prelims results I would have been very content to get a high 2:1 overall in my degree.
c) At the end of third year, and even now, I am satisfied with the fact that I came out with a 2:1 and a vaguely sane mentality, rather than suffering any serious mental health problems, for the sake of, and in pursuit of a First.

Onwards and upwards. The liberating thing about being slightly disheartened by my degree classification is that it finally means, after years of schooling and formal education, that life is not just about grades. At moments I produced work that was worthy of a First, but at all times I conducted myself in a ridiculously efficient and studious manner. I completed hundreds of hours of volunteering during my degree, and I tried to consider the welfare of fellow Oxford students, particularly my friends. I rose above a lot of horrible situations and circumstances, and I never stopped trying.

If someone doesn't employ me with this attitude, then they have a heart of stone.

I will talk more about my new job in my next post as I'm aware of how lengthy this one is getting! Stay tuned, I promise the next post will be far more positive! :)

First post of 2015!

You're never too old for a birthday cake

 Ok, so I feel pretty bad that it's taken me until mid-March to post this year. I think that I always intended to post at some point in January, but then I was behind with coursework, hurried back to university, and literally didn't really stop until Friday when term ended and I handed in my undergraduate thesis! Time flew by, and last term was definitely the fastest term I've ever experienced here, probably because it was sandwiched by important deadlines. Unfortunately, that's a recurring motif in third year, you work towards each deadline, and before you know it, entire months have passed.

I'm especially guilty of looking back over terms and wondering what I did besides work. Luckily I've got my diary and a couple of photos to prove that I did leave my laptop/ the library, but it was genuinely quite a tough term. In eight weeks I did most of the primary research for, and wrote up twelve thousand words, as well as attending some classes for another paper and lectures. So exhausting that I still feel like I'm recovering from it, and the idea of starting revision for my finals exams is...well, overwhelming. I think making a timetable and just listing everything on paper, rather than in my head, will help.

Yesterday I started panicking about how much I had to do, and so instead of a to-do list for revision, I wrote a list of things I've already done; notes summarised, revision cards made, online resources created (I mainly use Quizlet, a free revision-card making website). It was reassuring actually, and I'd recommend it. Now to fill the gaps...

These cheered up my windowsill considerably 

 So my thesis undoubtedly took up the bulk of term, but I did take some time out to celebrate my 21st! My birthday was in the middle of term, which was kind of chaotic regarding work and having a progress meeting on my birthday itself, but it did mean that it gave me something to work towards and look back on fondly as my thesis deadline approached. It feels strange that this will probably be my last birthday here, considering I've been here for my previous two birthdays, and before that I had my 17th at the University of Cambridge as I was on the CUSU Shadowing scheme! Who knows where I'll be turning 22...

When I wasn't working on my thesis I was writing applications for internships and graduate schemes for this summer and beyond. This meant that there was a two week period where I was getting about six hours of sleep a night and spending about ten or eleven hours a day in front of my laptop. It was pretty grim. However, I maintain that it was a good use of time, even if so far I've only had one interview, and one straight out rejection. Rejections can be good, they remind us that we're not superhuman, we have to deal with disappointment in a productive way, and being rejected from one thing means I'll be more grateful when I eventually get something. Also, rejections narrow down my choices, as does the passing of time, so inevitably, I tell myself, I am working towards something, I just don't quite know what it is yet!

The last two years I've been very lucky in that I've had summer internships lined up by mid-March. This year I'm trying to teach myself a lesson in patience, and hope to receive some more news in the next few weeks. I think that I'm particularly keen to get something sorted for the summer because I'm aware that after June ends, I am done with university (for now, as I haven't applied to any Master's programmes) and so 'the real world' awaits. Or something like that. Alternatively, I think I should still be trying to focus on the next six months as a unit of time, rather than thinking that a single internship is going to determine my entire working life.

I guess this is the sort of thing that all final year university students struggle with. Finally I empathise. Dividing my time between applications, coursework and having a vague social life is hard, but I think I did the best that I could at the time. Now I've just got to see how it all pays off.

Exeter college chapel

The last few days of term were a welcome relief. I handed in my thesis and could enjoy doing non-work things completely guilt-free. I went to a concert (which took place in the chapel pictured above), drinks, and meals out without going over thesis edits and grammar corrections over and over again. I could at last talk to people about something which wasn't the subject of my thesis. It's made me consider just how 'free' I'll feel once my exams are over, but at the same time, I've now experienced that weird emptiness that comes with handing in a large, soul-consuming project. The last few days have been oddly difficult precisely because I don't know what to focus on now, my exams are months away and I'm finding it hard to concentrate on work again since term ended, and my mind, if not my body, still feels tired.

I know I'll find a way, eventually. I know that most final year university students feel like this at some point. Being bored and distracted is just as hard as being overwhelmed with things to do, and thus also distracted. In the same way, it's easy to forget about the long-term (e.g., in three months' time, my exams will have ended and I will have something planned for the summer). I've also become obsessed with checking my emails every half an hour in case there's any news. I think the next step is to set myself small, achievable, short-term goals, by day, by week, by month and then up until the end of this vacation.

Better get to it!

Every day is a small victory in the game of Life and Death.

So, there you have it. Another few days of summer have passed, the weather has improved, and my life? Well, it's pretty average at the moment, although all of this boredom has led to some creative advances (see above piece for evidence!). Other than that I've been doing some more work, looking for another part time job and taking driving lessons...not exactly thrilling is it?

I've been spending a lot of time in my local park (well, technically not my local park, but the one near my city centre) for an International Festival, and on another day when I had a picnic with my friends. This is quite standard, nothing out of the ordinary (well, the International Festival itself is, but not my presence there - I go practically every year since it's on my doorstep!) EXCEPT I used to spend loads of time there 2 years ago, during my GCSE summer, it's sometimes like the past 2 years never happened (which is a crazy idea), the amount of similarities between my post-16 summer and post A-level summer - it must be the extraordinary length of time causing these parallels!

Strange when that happens, when you KNOW loads of time has passed, for example, since I was 16, and then suddenly something happens, and you remember something, a memory, a moment, in such striking clarity that it's as if no time has passed at all...