Every stage of fancying your new seminar leader

You’ll try not to make it obvious – and you’ll fail

It’s a new term. For a lot of students, this means new modules to set yourself into, new books to purchase and read, new classmates to play ice-breaker with and, most importantly, a new seminar leader.

A lot of the time, you have no idea who you’re going to end up with – and this is part of the game of university. Everyone knows that a good seminar leader is like an additonal few metres added to that climb of reaching that first.

So what exactly are the all important first steps you need to be prepared for if they end up being dreamy?

The 9am/5:30pm trek to class (because they can never find an appropriate time)

You walk into the familiar room you had last semester’s module in, and yet girl-wearing-scarf #1 is sat in your usual seat, blissfully unacquainted with your mental seating plan. That’s acceptable, you guess, and you raise your eyebrows menacingly. It’s only first class together, she’ll learn.

Meanwhile, girl-wearing-scarf #2 is talking too loudly about how exciting this module is going to be with boy-in-pastel-shirt. You sigh.

Love at first sight


Oh hello

Suddenly, everything stops: it’s as if Shakespeare has never even featured in your reading list and the prospect of reading Beowulf no longer seems that daunting a task.

He’s not quite Mr. Darcy, but his not-quite-right shade of mahogany hair could compete with being model-esque, if only you could add a touch of curl to the quiff. There isn’t a shimmer around his being as he walks to the chair at the front of the class, but you’ve certainly imagined it – for he is Godly. The flush across his neck and cheek is just the right amount of red to be deemed cute, and those blue eyes that look upon you as if you’re in the wrong class… is he nervous too?

Or maybe you’re staring too much… are you reacting like Edward Cullen did that first time he saw Bella in the movie adaptation? That’s not okay.

Your new friend/enemy takes interest too

Meanwhile, you realise best-friend-to-be is staring at him just as much as you, and that’s okay because you’re obviously the better competitor and clear winner. It doesn’t matter if he’s gay, straight or bi, for you will ultimately conquer. You hope he’s not married.

You mentally prep for the semester

You gather yourself together, write down his name, room number and office hours as he recites them, followed by a heart. You conceive a whole lifetime together in less than 45 minutes of meeting, and remember why you decided to take an English degree here at King’s.

It wasn’t because of the extensive list of modules available to you in second and third year. It wasn’t the optional year abroad, or the fact Strand Campus is situated in the center of the best city in the world. No, forget all of that. It’s because deep down in your heart, you knew you’d gaze upon each other.


They all know

You may call it divine intervention, perhaps. But as he perches upon his chair (because he doesn’t quite sit) and makes you feel excited about the term to come, you devise a mental check-list of the books you need to buy for this module, because avoiding reading and winging-it is no longer an option.

One needs to impress in every sense. And let’s face it, all the cute men who walk down the street in suits who you once thought “fine” or “spicy” now pale in comparison.

Living life without him for the next 23 hours

So as your peers talk about how good/bad that seminar was, and how awesome/awful this semester is going to be, all you can contribute to the shuffle out the building is “OK, he was hot”.

And that’s OK too, because you have a lot more to worry about now than finding the classical illusions in things. You’ve got twelve weeks worth of witty one-liners to conjure up, twelve weeks worth of outfits to put together, and dismally, twelve weeks worth of content you need to understand.

Plus you’ve forgotten all about your cute Literary Theory lecturer from last semester.