In which I go for interviews.
Today has been pretty amazing.
I woke up early, and somehow managed to be ready before my parents were, which is a novelty. Then we got in the car and, in between sitting in long traffic queues, we managed to drive to Cambridge. We got there at about 12:40, and I ditched my parents (who, by this point, were getting pretty annoying) quick smart and just headed off to the student's waiting room, where I chatted with some other prospective students.
Our test was at one. It was... pretty crazy. I did 'what -if anything - is 'wrong' with popular history?' and... I suppose the less said about that, the better. After the test, I had about an hour to kill, and I went back with everyone else to the waiting room and ended up having an epic chat with a second year about all kinds of stuff.
The interviews themselves were alright. I think. The sources one was just plain scary, but my interviewers seemed quite positive about it. Afterwards, Biagini (the 19th/20th century Ireland expert) told me he thought my essay on the short term effects of the Irish Potato Famine was good, so I was pretty happy with that. The second interview was slightly less scary, but they asked some awkward questions about my essay, in relation to the impact of Irish-American emigrants. I was totally not prepared for that, but I think I got around it okay. Dr Fulda (who is Director of Studies in History and also the Dean at Sidney) was really nice, and even asked me which part of my personal statement I'd like to be questioned on. He also recommended a book to me, but I've totally forgotten what it was called, idiot that I am.
And then I got some fudge, ans then we went home. Now I'm feeling an odd combination of happiness that it's all over/I didn't epically fuck up, apprehension and exhaustion.
Although I really shouldn't be worrying just yet. Apparently they won't be getting back to me until the new year.
I woke up early, and somehow managed to be ready before my parents were, which is a novelty. Then we got in the car and, in between sitting in long traffic queues, we managed to drive to Cambridge. We got there at about 12:40, and I ditched my parents (who, by this point, were getting pretty annoying) quick smart and just headed off to the student's waiting room, where I chatted with some other prospective students.
Our test was at one. It was... pretty crazy. I did 'what -if anything - is 'wrong' with popular history?' and... I suppose the less said about that, the better. After the test, I had about an hour to kill, and I went back with everyone else to the waiting room and ended up having an epic chat with a second year about all kinds of stuff.
The interviews themselves were alright. I think. The sources one was just plain scary, but my interviewers seemed quite positive about it. Afterwards, Biagini (the 19th/20th century Ireland expert) told me he thought my essay on the short term effects of the Irish Potato Famine was good, so I was pretty happy with that. The second interview was slightly less scary, but they asked some awkward questions about my essay, in relation to the impact of Irish-American emigrants. I was totally not prepared for that, but I think I got around it okay. Dr Fulda (who is Director of Studies in History and also the Dean at Sidney) was really nice, and even asked me which part of my personal statement I'd like to be questioned on. He also recommended a book to me, but I've totally forgotten what it was called, idiot that I am.
And then I got some fudge, ans then we went home. Now I'm feeling an odd combination of happiness that it's all over/I didn't epically fuck up, apprehension and exhaustion.
Although I really shouldn't be worrying just yet. Apparently they won't be getting back to me until the new year.