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The 23 Stages of... Going Back to Uni

So yesterday I made the journey to university, and I'm so happy to be back. The five hours or so that it takes to travel between England and Wales can be a bit of a faff, so I thought I'd liven it up with another The Stages Of... post.

I did a post like this way back in April, and had a lot of fun writing it, but I haven't done one since. It means constantly taking notes, and that can be quite disruptive, not to mention it can stop you fully experiencing whatever's going on around you. However, I think we'd all agree that train journeys are generally pretty unremarkable, unless you're taking the scenic route, so I was able to make my notes without feeling guilty.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and please let me know if you'd like to see more posts like this!

10:16am: Last hug from Mumma, who's come to see me off, then struggle into seat. Carrying three things: a suitcase, my handbag, and a canvas bag with another bag inside it. Never could pack light.

10:17am: Train pulls away from station. Wave at Mumma, who looks relieved that she can finally leave the wind tunnel platform.
Soundtrack: Let The Journey Begin by Get Cape. Wear Cape. Fly.

10:25am: Nab a copy of today's Metro  hello there, Mr Beckham. He makes a nice counterpoint to all the stories about arguments and death.

10:57am: Experience combination of irritation and sympathy when the toddler along the carriage has a massive tantrum (sympathy is for his mother). Decide to never have kids.

11:23am: Man behind me seems to want to engage in game of footsie. Decline. Would meet handsome Welsh rugby player on train in ideal world, not sixty-year-old Kent geezer with wife at home.

11:48am: Lust after outfit sported by chic girl at Clapham High Street (navy coat, grey dress, and loafers).

11:53am: Fight through crowds at Victoria in order to get to tube.
Soundtrack: Move, Bitch

12:00pm: Experience customary sadness that I only ever travel through London without stopping. Wonder why I don't visit more, before remembering it's the same reason which stops me doing lots of things: it costs money.

12:06pm: On tube. Man playing ukulele. Music akin to Mario Kart soundtrack. Help.

12:07pm: Avoid eye contact while simultaneously trying to people watch. So many different languages spoken; so many lush outfits. Trench coats v. popular with London ladies atm.

12:20pm: Arrive at Paddington. Leg it to Pret to buy a Chicken Caesar and Bacon baguette for lunch.

12:27pm: Shoutout to the toilet attendant who let me bypass the stiles so that I didn't have to get tangled up in my haste to use the loo. You babe.

12:36pm: Platform called. Mad rush to find correct carriage, even though train doesn't leave for another nine minutes.

12:38pm: Delighted to find that I have a table. Sharing with a businessman who has thankfully not suggested game of footsie.

12:43pm: Go to devour baguette and discover it's not cut in half. Momentary 'How do I eat this?!' panic. Tear off a chunk and smear phone screen with chicken by accident.

12:45pm: Train leaves. iPod in, Kindle out. Reading The Perks of Being a Wallflower  want to finish it before watching film. 
Soundtrack: Diet Mountain Dew by Lana Del Rey.

1:48pm: Woman behind me been on phone for last half hour. Keeps talking about 'heart designs'... Valentines Day? A wedding? Suspense killing me.

1:49pm: Woman behind me says something about 'visiting the venue', wedding? No confirmation yet.

1:50pm: Woman behind me leaves train. Will never know about purpose of heart designs now.

1:56pm: Businessman writes something on piece of plain paper in fancy blue ink. Want to know what it says. Probably something dull (businessman looks like banker).

2:46pm: Customary panic suitcase will have been stolen from luggage rack. Suitcase still there.
Soundtrack: Do The Panic by Phantom Planet

2:48pm: Struggle up the stairs at Cardiff Central. Who needs weight training when you can lug a suitcase around? Make friends with pigeon on platform, at least until pigeon flies into the path of oncoming train and nearly gets hit. Daredevil.

3:22pm: Meet housemate at train station. Enthusiastic hugging ensues. Damn, I've missed her.

3:35pm: Home. Home for the next seven months, at least. Would love nothing more than to collapse on bed but bed covered with belongings. Better get shifting everything *sigh*. Good to be back, though.

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Beth, 23, South East England. I'm a writer with a love of books, lipstick, and the Oxford comma. I love beauty and I also love animals, so I only buy, use, and feature products from cruelty-free brands. (Seriously though, I am the person who stops to fuss over every dog she sees.) You can also expect posts about vegan/vegetarian food, and plenty of musings about life as a 20-something. Want to get in touch? Email me at

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