Friday, 4 November 2011

Bad Rachel

My last post was an unacceptably long time ago, so sorry invisible followers.
A lot has been happening recently; I got my AS results, (2 As, no please, no applauding)I started year 13, my final year of sixth form and began the scary task of applying for University!
Oh, and I dented my car.
The University thing has really given me food for thought, I thought I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my life, but it turns out 'Anne Hathaway in Devil wears Prada' is not an accredited degree... So I visited Universities, chatted to people in the 'media' industry, got through several bags of walkers sensations and finally, finally, I am getting somewhere.

Personal Statements. If I never have to hear these words again it will be too soon. Trying to convince Universities that I really do want to study media/journalism with them has proved tricky, with a 4000 character limit, and banned use of bold or italics.
If only they could see the glisten in my eyes as I lovingly stroke Elle magazine, THEY WOULD KNOW. We hear so much from the Government about the lack of qualifications in young people, yet for those of us who really do want to learn more, they create the Takeshi's Castle* of application forms, and command us to write a motivational speech in Latin and deliver it by Owl before they'll even consider us.
I propose a change to the system - spend a day with me Mr Ucas, see how much effort I put into my work, see how much I want this. Don't judge me by the fact I haven't spent a week's work experience writing for the Prime Minister. If you saw our local paper (aka 'small leaflet with local butcher ads') then you'd understand why I'm desperate to get out.

But the personal statement must be written, and apparently folding it into an origami dinosaur isn't going to impress them, damn.

*If you don't know what this is then you should either Youtube, or probably just end it all now.

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