Jessica Bridges-Palmer is one of those lucky people: someone who experiences college life to the fullest - and survived. After several degrees from schools in the England she has many experiences to tell (and a few best kept secrets!).

Every two weeks she'll pass on glimpses into her life; if your about to head into school, or if your right in the middle of it, she's the one to talk to…

Gasoline, Cow's Eyes and Booze - Frosh Week Fun:

"Mmmm, okay, you want a thousand points?" A knowing glance sideways. "We put a bit of gas on your dick and set it on fire. It’s just for a minute!"

In that instance I could afford to stand back and give a delighted, horrified squeal. There was more in store for me later, but first I could watch a very, very drunk frosh, eager to please but naturally defensive as any man is of his tender parts, weigh up the cred vs. inmate damage options before him. And as the other objective of frosh, apart from sprawling alcoholic ruination, is securing encounters with the cuties you’ve spotted ASAP before they:
a) change their minds or
b) start to look less cute,
…the intimate damage was a weighty consideration indeed. Ultimately it probably wouldn’t have mattered: by the end of an obligatory trawl of 12 pubs (pint or a double in each), singed pubes were really the least of the impediments to action.

But what is it with these initiation rituals that form the best and worst part of your induction to tertiary education? These were my first weeks at med school in England, (an undergraduate degree over here) and although I was perhaps a slightly conservative youngster, I had done my fair share of partying. But nothing really prepared me for the debauched, heathen traditions the Ents team were resurrecting for us. Some of my best memories, and most shameful moments (I will never tell, not even you guys can know it all) stem from these formative experiences. It’s true that medical school is famous for this type of excess, some say due to the pressure, some that it’s part of the professional "bonding" experience. Maybe it’s just that you can get away with it (its only later they realize you’re far from being a pillar of society just yet). And I don’t know exactly what its like over there but I’ve heard a few stories. Suffice to say, the pressure can be enormous, and I have to say that I don’t think the rate of alcoholism among doctors
(one of the worst professions) is totally unrelated.

So there I was, with the words "The Shakespeare’s Head" written across my bare chest, having licked hot chilli sauce from someone’s "bits down there", and watched my best friend wrestle a toy snake naked in a busy square in central London. Edifying stuff (and yes, I am still holding out on the goriest details).

I suppose the lesson for today would be something a bit hokey, admittedly, but really, really, oh so true. Consider one thing as you embark on these adventures, and before it just doesn’t matter any more through the haze. Don’t worry what others say about your health, reputation, and the rest. If you’re the sort who is happy to stake out the year long moniker "Bridget who had a cow’s eyeball stuck up where the sun don’t shine" (yes, but not me) then by God power to you and have fun – who’s gonna tell you different? Yup, it’s just you now. Otherwise…well you know the rest.

More entries from Jess coming soon!

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