When I last wrote, I was waiting to hear if I had secured my place in medicine on my third try. I was five points short but hopeful of a reprieve.

Well, I have decided that medicine will have to live without me. My apologies to all those who, in their discomfort, would have had the benefit of my urbane bedside manner and my A in Classical Studies. I've decided to do dentistry instead.

In the meantime, I've been preparing myself for life in Trinity. I'm a big believer in imaging for success, so I'm starting with my new apartment on Parliament St. It's a period one-bed overlooking Dublin Castle, just a three minute walk to college. It's all exposed brick and listed windows — very Bohemian. It's exactly the old look I want for my new life. I've been busy administering my woman's touch — candles, rugs, hangings and such. I'll also be framing my certificate stating that I'm "Garda Vetted", if there is such a thing. Perhaps they just stamp it on my hand.

(To become a dentist you need Garda clearance, immunisation records and blood tests. Funnily enough, no one has asked to look at my dental records. Do you suppose that a mouthful of cavities would preclude me from practising as a dentist? Wouldn't it be ironic if, after three years and more than 1,000 CAO points, I was turned down on the basis of mercury content?)

I spent my summer accosting people with squirts of expensive perfume in department stores, to save enough money for all these throws and whatnot. I came home each evening smelling like a bordello. I'm not complaining. There are more offensive smelling careers out there.

To keep my olfactory nerves jangling, I've now taken a job in a natural cosmetic shop. I love working there, we're like a fragrant little family. A woman stopped me on the way home from work and literally stuck her face into my hair. "Why do you smell so good?" she enthused. "Oh we all smell like this at the bordello." She scuttled off.

I'm really looking forward to my new life as a student, and though you may not believe me, I'm delighted with dentistry and not a bit disappointed to have missed medicine. With all the talk of doom and gloom, I just feel relieved to be getting started. My friend, who repeated the Leaving for a second time to get veterinary studies, and missed it, is looking at repeating again. I'd much rather be scattering cushions and airing my campus outfits.

I'm not really an Abercrombie and Fitch kind of girl — I like to be a bit more classic. That's why I'm so happy to be going to Trinity. I've been hanging around there all year and there seems to be a bit of fashion diversity. I've ditched the hoover and mop from the cleaning cupboard in my new apartment and I'm converting into a walk-in-wardrobe. I bought so many new clothes on my recent trip to Florida that I had to buy a new wardrobe. I still don't have enough room.

Come Freshers Week, I intend to throw myself into college life full force. I'll be joining the societies, flitting about the cobblestones and studying in style. I bought an antique school desk, complete with inkwell and fitted bench, to complement my period apartment and my 400- year-old college. I have no plans to change the world through radical action. For that reason, I probably won't be joining any political societies in college. Retro is good for me. Is there a Needlepoint Society I wonder?

• Laura Brady was this year'sIrish Times Leaving Cert diarist