The ability to talk/type out of ones posterior is an essential skill for any Arts student, as all of my peers know all too well. Don’t lie.

But in all honesty I need to get this out there, air some dirty laundry if you will – about 95% of the time, dating back to my high school years (oh how long ago those now seem), whether it be a presentation, research paper, exam what have you, I PRETEND to have a solid grasp of the concepts involved. And you would be surprised, very surprised, how often it works. ‘Fake till you make it’ is a cliche that has earned it’s reputation as a cliche because it is over-used because it is so darned true.

No, I am not confident in my topic. Even if I spent the last two months studying apples day and night I can assure you that secretly somewhere deep down I still believe I don’t know if they are a fruit. Because I also know that some quirky quirk spent sixty years of his miserable(meaningful?) existance studying the chemical composition of the Royal Gala and how this contributes to it’s distinctive flavour. But that won’t stop me from walking onto that podium with the confidence of Serena Williams hitting the tennis court and giving you the best presentation on apples that you have ever heard. I think I’d make a brilliant journalist to be honest. Failing that politics or even law. I wonder if this is how Obama does it.

It’s like that time I went for a job interview BLIND DRUNK. It was a big, fancy, well-known company and I wanted that job rather badly, but in high pressure situations where I need to appear like I have it together I.. struggle sometimes. Let’s leave the euphemisms unexplored, shall we.

So I turn up to this interview blind drunk, and I can barely string two-words together. But I am well-dressed, smiley and oh-so self-assured, as one can only be when one has just had enough ethanol to tranquillize a small horse- yes I overdosed by accident, I’m not experienced with hard liquor- and I answer the questions loudly and soon after they are asked. I do not say anything intelligent, of substance or in any way profound. I chat mindlessly to the other candidates in the group assessment. My posture is relaxed; my gestures not self-conscious. I don’t walk- I strut. I believe that I am God’s gift to this corporation, what with my experience and incredible resume and killer knowledge of the product that I can’t name.

I get a call later that day from my recuitment agent who tells me, and these are almost her exact words “I don’t know what you did but they loved you. A few of the others still have question marks over their heads but they specifically requested you. They said you handled the interview questions with eloquence and charisma, and mingled well with the other candidates during the assessment centre”.

When I hung up the phone that afternoon I was sobering up on a tram, and so found it extremely difficult to appear sane while I stifled my giggles.

Now if this isn’t incredible definitive anecdotal evidence that forever cements my point then such evidance does not exist.

And so I approach my Arts degree with a combination of frantic research, last minute essays and a healthy dose of pseudo-confidence.

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