Yesterday, we went to Dundee for some sort of an education fair. This involved a two-hour drive (Scott picked me up outside St. George Cross at 7.30 a.m.), a whole day of handing out undergraduate prospectuses and answering questions, and a two-hour drive back. I don’t know about Scott, but I enjoyed it a lot; I don’t know either whether I was terribly useful, but closer to lunchtime I managed to actually learn something about admissions to Glasgow University and answer some questions to glowing-eyed pupils and their parents, concerned-looking, but pretending to be taking it easy.
It probably sounds like boasting, but I actually felt proud to be under the University of Glasgow banner. Scott noted that most universities had a lot of props (including sweets and pens and what not), glossy prospectuses and perhaps even some Powerpoint presentations. We only had piles of prospectuses on the table and boxes of them underneath, and Scott kept unpacking and handing them out and speaking at the same time (I think he’d mastered a tone of authority, and gave very in-depth explanations and advice; I was musing at how he’d managed to learn all those things). The requirements seemed very high to me; these poor pupils must be going through much stress, if they choose a place like Glasgow, especially for something like Medicine, Psychology or Law.
In the course of all this learning I discovered a great desire to do another Master’s. This time in Arts.
I was amused to see Oxford there. Scott said that they had been at a similar event in Glasgow some time before that; I wonder why they need to go to these promotional events at all? Bizarre. I saw the Oxford guy sitting on the table and talking to someone quite agitatedly.
