When I was young, I vowed never to attend an institution of higher learning devoid of a foreign-language prepositional phrase in its official title. Therefore, while spending most of my college life at the University of Notre Dame du Lac, this semester I'm at the Universitas Sancti Andreae apud Scotos. Round One goes to St. Andrews, because frankly "Amongst the Scots" would be an awesome prepositional phrase in any situation. In fact, replacing a number of prepositional phrases from a set of ESL exercises makes the world seem much more exciting than these people would have you believe.
Please place the umbrella stand... AMONGST THE SCOTS.
Eileen and Miranda have been best friends... AMONGST THE SCOTS.
We ran five laps... AMONGST THE SCOTS.
The airplane flew... AMONGST THE SCOTS.
I always do my English homework... AMONGST THE SCOTS.
I heard some strange noises... AMONGST THE SCOTS.
This is the kind of world that I want to live in, the kind of world that I want for my children. A Scotsman around every corner, just waiting for you to establish a spatial, temporal, or logical relationship with him.
In other news, I highly recommend "I wanna make like a preposition and establish a spatial relationship with you," for use in bars, clubs, and related establishments. As long as you're okay with taking home an English major, that is, which might actually be a very poor life decision. I am reminded of this.
But yes, St. Andrews. Established 1413, so it's the oldest university in Scotland, and the third oldest in the English speaking world, the only world that truly counts. It's a very international university, as they go -- the numbers I've heard bandied about are 30% Scottish students, 30% other UK, 10% North America, 30% other. As far as other goes, so far I've met a couple Germans and an intriguing Russian-Estonian moral philosopher with whom I've had a couple interesting discussions about morality, obligation, political philosophy, and... Estonia. I feel ignorant, sometimes, talking to international types, when I don't know anything about the politics or geography of, say, France. With Estonia, it's hard to summon that shame.
Amy: So, uh, Estonia. Where they speak, uh...
Him: Estonian.
Amy: You know, if I was gonna guess.
It doesn't help that Estonia mostly just makes me think of Elbonia.
I've also met a handful of Canadians, including my roommate, who has vowed to share with me a Canada Fact!™ every day, because she immediately realized that I'm your standard ugly American who likes the vague idea of a place where both hockey and moose are loved and cherished... but doesn't actually know shit about Canada as it truly exists. Her first facts were about the Inuit and salmon, though, so honestly, screw it.
Complimentary Canada Fact: The weird ass creature on the Olympics logo is a pile of stone used by the Inuit as a waymarker... called a inukshuk! I imagine they've been explaining this rather heavily in the news, but I haven't actually been watching any Olympic coverage, so it was new and fascinating to me!
Second Complimentary Canada Fact: Apparently Canadians tell themselves that Stephen Colbert is French Canadian. This was one of my roommate's early Facts!, and I felt a little bad telling her that it just wasn't true. She also seemed a little offended when I told her I unthinkingly regard Canadian actors and musicians as "just a different sort of American." WHOO AMURRICA.
(Off Topic: Please accept this ASCII James K. Polk with my compliments.)
Complimentary Estonia Fact: They don't distinguish between hills and mountains in their language (mägi for both), because Estonia is so terribly flat! (Go on, Amanda, I know you want to say it.) In this way, it resembles the south of Finland! ("OR THE NORTH OF AMY." There, I did it for you.) Speaking of their language, apparently Estonians can understand Finns when they speak, but Finns can't particularly understand Estonians. I'm not sure how that works, but I got this from a real live Estonian (although admittedly a Russian speaker). Here's a sample of Estonian, the Our Father.
But yes, St. Andrews. As far as I can tell so far, it functions like your standard university could be expected to function, with one very important exception... nobody actually goes to class! Actually, let me emend that statement. If you're a first or second year student, you have to go to class. If you're a science student of any variety, you have to go to class. If you happen to be an honors-level arts student, however, you have exactly two classes a week, two hours each, at two in the afternoon, one on Monday and one on Tuesday. You spend the rest of the time reading independently from an extensive bibliography according to your interests and visiting sites of historical import (if you're Amy), or committing grave atrocities against your liver and dignity (if you're Scottish). Also, preparing your immortal soul for premature death by gutter someday, which of course is the trade off for all arts students (so worth it).
My classes this semester are 1) Old English Poetry, and 2) Gildas and De Excidio Britanniae (i.e., Sub-Roman Britain, my very favorite historical subject of them all!). I find both subjects inappropriately exciting; more to come, I'm sure!
Other interesting facts about the university include nothing that I can think of currently, so goodbye and here are some random university-related pictures just for the heck of it.
Castle House and Kennedy Hall, which together make up the English department. My Old English seminar meets in Kennedy, on the right! 
McIntosh Hall, where I live and eat! The food is largely unidentifiable and usually bland. Potatoes are served at every meal, no exceptions whatsoever. One night they managed to ruin spaghetti, which takes a rare sort of talent.
RAWR
HAHAHAHAHA, YOU'RE FLAT! Hehehehehehehehe...
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