I'm starting to get nervous about University.
Unlike school, where you're all from the same area, with relatively similar backgrounds, people from across the world (potentially) flock to this one establishment, all for the same purpose... Degree! (Well you'd hope so at least, over £3000 is a very expensive waste of a year otherwise.)
Doing a Journalism degree and hoping to become the next Veronica Guerin is really starting to worry me. What if I can't learn short hand? What if I can't write properly? What if I don't get a highly competitive work placement for my experience? There's so many what-ifs.
The people on my course might be completely different. I might be up against highly educated upper class toffs who got their work placements at the BBC because daddy practically owns the place.. I could be up against those people you hear about that stakeout starbucks with their laptops and pointless coffees, hitting up the blog world (pot? kettle? at least I'm not in starbucks right now)
I'm used to my niche. I've lived in so many different countries, I've been to over 15 schools, but I've always found my niche. People I don't like I don't even bother with. I really don't see the point. My friends think its weird that I can cut someone out of my life, but its not hard is it? You don't like them, you don't need them, so why bother?
The point is however, I am going to a teeny tiny university. How the hell am I going to avoid the toffs and the blog addicts and every other unsavoury I can think of.
I need some help?! (I'm really not nasty, I just hope I like everyone on my degree course...)
Sunday 8 August 2010
Saturday 31 July 2010
My take on journalism
I’ve wanted to be a journalist for as long as I can remember. Or at least something that involves writing. I love writing, like, I will sit at home and just write things, anything. Lists, Diaries, random emails, short stories or even an article or two about something that I’ve been thinking about. Why else would I have two blogs and a tumblr to keep myself busy?
Having just been accepted on a course for Journalism which easily rivals the more esteemed colleges in the country, I’ve been starting to seriously think about my chosen career path. Journalists undergo some serious generalisation and one has to admit, the public’s idea of a journalist is in the toilet.
Thats the point that got me thinking. Newspapers, News channels, Magazines, Radio stations… these are all mediums of communication that everyone is exposed to daily. What we see, read and hear are the basis of every day conversations, the shaping of opinions and the public’s idea of the world we live in. If Journalists were so hated, why do millions of people each day willingly expose themselves to these forms of communication, and decide to base their opinions of the world from it?
Newspapers are designed to be unbiased and factual, merely reporting the news without a take on it. This sadly, we all know to be false. Left wing, right wing, everything has a side and an angle to take. So from that we get buyers choosing what they wish to believe.. Am I Tory or Labour today? The Guardian or The Times? These basic choices subconsciously shape our opionions on news.
People read the newspapers and tune into the programmes because they want to keep up to date. They wish to hear the going ons in the world, they want to have an input in day to day chit chat. So with that in mind, do people actually want to buy a newspaper with an opinion? Surely not. Surely the public wish to hear about their local MP, or the mass murderer in their city with all the correct facts, no political angle and nothing missing. News is news, news is not opinion, news is history that might impact your life.
I want to be that journalist that writes what the public wants. It might be boring, it might be mundane, but wouldn’t we rather know the whole truth, as little as it may be, rather than some sensationalist rubbish? Of course sensationalist rubbish makes fantastic conversation, but at the end of it, where is the substance?
Being an honest journalist might mean I don’t get hired, or published, or earn any money, but if I wanted to get into a profession to earn money, I’m definitely in the wrong game. I wouldn’t want to read something about my local area and find out key facts are missing, key facts were downplayed, and something completely irrelevant takes the basis of the story.
I want to be an honest journalist, and I really hope I can succeed.
Having just been accepted on a course for Journalism which easily rivals the more esteemed colleges in the country, I’ve been starting to seriously think about my chosen career path. Journalists undergo some serious generalisation and one has to admit, the public’s idea of a journalist is in the toilet.
Thats the point that got me thinking. Newspapers, News channels, Magazines, Radio stations… these are all mediums of communication that everyone is exposed to daily. What we see, read and hear are the basis of every day conversations, the shaping of opinions and the public’s idea of the world we live in. If Journalists were so hated, why do millions of people each day willingly expose themselves to these forms of communication, and decide to base their opinions of the world from it?
Newspapers are designed to be unbiased and factual, merely reporting the news without a take on it. This sadly, we all know to be false. Left wing, right wing, everything has a side and an angle to take. So from that we get buyers choosing what they wish to believe.. Am I Tory or Labour today? The Guardian or The Times? These basic choices subconsciously shape our opionions on news.
People read the newspapers and tune into the programmes because they want to keep up to date. They wish to hear the going ons in the world, they want to have an input in day to day chit chat. So with that in mind, do people actually want to buy a newspaper with an opinion? Surely not. Surely the public wish to hear about their local MP, or the mass murderer in their city with all the correct facts, no political angle and nothing missing. News is news, news is not opinion, news is history that might impact your life.
I want to be that journalist that writes what the public wants. It might be boring, it might be mundane, but wouldn’t we rather know the whole truth, as little as it may be, rather than some sensationalist rubbish? Of course sensationalist rubbish makes fantastic conversation, but at the end of it, where is the substance?
Being an honest journalist might mean I don’t get hired, or published, or earn any money, but if I wanted to get into a profession to earn money, I’m definitely in the wrong game. I wouldn’t want to read something about my local area and find out key facts are missing, key facts were downplayed, and something completely irrelevant takes the basis of the story.
I want to be an honest journalist, and I really hope I can succeed.
Fashionable Charities
Remember when the fair trade fashion hit us? Fair trade coffee, fair-trade chocolate, fair trade fruit and veg. Something that most of us took as a fashion, as a statement that really, we can afford to pay the extra 50p and hope that people think we care, but really we hope they think we’re bang on trend. So whats the next one? Well of course it’s all focus on charities in the 2010 World Cup nation, South Africa.
Africa brings lots of words to mind. Poverty, desert, starvation, conflict… the list is endless. Most people don’t realise that within Africa, South Africa is one of the richest countries on the continent. Even with that, South Africa is considered “richer” that those European countries us brits hold in such high stead such as Belgium and Sweden. These facts pass people by, having “Africa” in the title name simply throws us. I think that people decide to block it out, as after all the main positives that we know is that they have excellent cricket and rugby teams.
Having lived in South Africa for six years, I know all about the current situation. I’ve been taught about apartheid and I had the countries largest shanty town a mere 10 miles away from my gated community house. I’ve worked in the orphanages and I’ve driven through such poverty that it makes you feel sick.
Now, finally, the whole world is looking in on South Africa, and the cracks are showing. We’ve seen the WAGs go to the shelters on the BBC and we’ve seen Dispatches go to the “lost girls” on Channel 4, but the thing is, they’re not lost. They are exactly how they’ve been since Apartheid started. And one could say things have improved since it finished, and of course it has, but they are still there, trapped. We all knew about Apartheid, we’ve all heard of Nelson Mandela and his groundbreaking political work, but surely it shouldn’t take the World Cup for us to take a much closer look and want to make a difference.
Making a difference is fantastic, and the country does need a lift up, so no doubt even just the five WAGs made a huge difference to those that they met, and I’m sure many more programmes will be released with a similar effect, but it shouldn’t have taken a mere football competition to get the ball rolling.
In short, my opinion is that a fashionable sport should not be the making of a fashionable charity. People should want to make a difference, not just get lumped in the country and realise that as they’re there with their £160,000 a week salaries, that something should be done. Things need to be done, people need to be helped, and I sincerely hope that this doesn’t end after the tournament does.
Africa brings lots of words to mind. Poverty, desert, starvation, conflict… the list is endless. Most people don’t realise that within Africa, South Africa is one of the richest countries on the continent. Even with that, South Africa is considered “richer” that those European countries us brits hold in such high stead such as Belgium and Sweden. These facts pass people by, having “Africa” in the title name simply throws us. I think that people decide to block it out, as after all the main positives that we know is that they have excellent cricket and rugby teams.
Having lived in South Africa for six years, I know all about the current situation. I’ve been taught about apartheid and I had the countries largest shanty town a mere 10 miles away from my gated community house. I’ve worked in the orphanages and I’ve driven through such poverty that it makes you feel sick.
Now, finally, the whole world is looking in on South Africa, and the cracks are showing. We’ve seen the WAGs go to the shelters on the BBC and we’ve seen Dispatches go to the “lost girls” on Channel 4, but the thing is, they’re not lost. They are exactly how they’ve been since Apartheid started. And one could say things have improved since it finished, and of course it has, but they are still there, trapped. We all knew about Apartheid, we’ve all heard of Nelson Mandela and his groundbreaking political work, but surely it shouldn’t take the World Cup for us to take a much closer look and want to make a difference.
Making a difference is fantastic, and the country does need a lift up, so no doubt even just the five WAGs made a huge difference to those that they met, and I’m sure many more programmes will be released with a similar effect, but it shouldn’t have taken a mere football competition to get the ball rolling.
In short, my opinion is that a fashionable sport should not be the making of a fashionable charity. People should want to make a difference, not just get lumped in the country and realise that as they’re there with their £160,000 a week salaries, that something should be done. Things need to be done, people need to be helped, and I sincerely hope that this doesn’t end after the tournament does.
Glastonbury 2010
What a festival! I don’t think I could ever find anywhere in the world quite like it. The atmosphere, the people, the fashions and even the portaloos all fit into this wonderful mishmash of colours and cultures, and everyone’s the same; smelly, sunburnt and overtired, yet loving the Glastonbury vibe.
Arriving at the festival site at 4.30am was possibly not the greatest idea in the world, as having to queue up in a cow herd style for hours did my back no favours (must pack less next year) but it did increase our anticipation. All the inhabitants from car park West 38 where there, ready and eager to charge through those gates. And the banter, no where else can you find people in a five hour queue so thrilled to be there.
Once in the gates, the feeling was like none other. Standing at the tip of England’s most legendary festival is incredible. From there it was deciding where to camp, lugging our stuff (in my case having a wonderful boyfriend to carry my rucksack and his, whilst I carried the tent and a couple of folding chairs. We decided on Penard’s Hill, the hill south of the site, next to the Park and overlooking all of the festival. Conveniently close to the stone circle to meet all those weird and wonderful late night revellers, close enough to the long drops, but far enough away so you couldn’t smell them (heat and long drops don’t mix very well). One word of advice is don’t camp next to the walkway.. for one, people will nick anything, and for two, no one wants their tent to change colour thanks to copius amounts of dust.
Of course living in a tent isn’t ideal, but at glastonbury it’s nothing that phases you, and once you’ve had a bacon roll or any of the other edible delights for breakfast, you’re ready to face anything. Thursday is the perfect day to explore the site, and even see a couple of bands play the Queen’s Head stage, but once Friday hits, you realise how quickly the rest of the weekend will fly by.
The first act I saw was Rolf Harris, who really got the crowd going, despite the sweltering summer sun. From there it was just a big blur. Walking from field to field, enjoying the diverse food stalls, drinking Pimms and dancing through Shangri La. Unfortunately Gorillaz didn’t live up to everyone’s expectations, but everyone else more than made up for that.
Once evening hits thousands flood to Arcadia, Shangri La and all the other hedonistic delights of Glastonbury. Expect very little sleep for any Glastonbury newbies! Then before we knew it, Saturday morning was upon us, the hottest of the hot days, and we enjoyed delights from the likes of Seasick Steve to the Scissor Sisters, topping it all with a spectacular performance from Muse.
Sunday morning arrived with a welcomed breeze, and despite the unfortunate football scores, the festival revellers remained cheery (well I did at least!). The end was near, and I was getting extremely excited about the thought of getting into a shower, but first things first Jack Johnson, Faithless and Stevie Wonder! Jack Johnson was the perfect act for finishing a lazy Sunday with a glass of Pimms. I personally think Faithless belongs to drunken club dancing, but the majority of the crowd seemed to enjoy them.
Finally, no one could have picked a better act to finish the festival off with than Stevie Wonder. What a character! The music was dazzling, and the performance even more spectacular. He finished off the set by dragging Michael Eavis onto stage and conducting the crowd into a somewhat off key rendition of happy birthday to him, but no matter what we sounded like, what a spectacular way to end the festival!
Glastonbury, I love you.
Arriving at the festival site at 4.30am was possibly not the greatest idea in the world, as having to queue up in a cow herd style for hours did my back no favours (must pack less next year) but it did increase our anticipation. All the inhabitants from car park West 38 where there, ready and eager to charge through those gates. And the banter, no where else can you find people in a five hour queue so thrilled to be there.
Once in the gates, the feeling was like none other. Standing at the tip of England’s most legendary festival is incredible. From there it was deciding where to camp, lugging our stuff (in my case having a wonderful boyfriend to carry my rucksack and his, whilst I carried the tent and a couple of folding chairs. We decided on Penard’s Hill, the hill south of the site, next to the Park and overlooking all of the festival. Conveniently close to the stone circle to meet all those weird and wonderful late night revellers, close enough to the long drops, but far enough away so you couldn’t smell them (heat and long drops don’t mix very well). One word of advice is don’t camp next to the walkway.. for one, people will nick anything, and for two, no one wants their tent to change colour thanks to copius amounts of dust.
Of course living in a tent isn’t ideal, but at glastonbury it’s nothing that phases you, and once you’ve had a bacon roll or any of the other edible delights for breakfast, you’re ready to face anything. Thursday is the perfect day to explore the site, and even see a couple of bands play the Queen’s Head stage, but once Friday hits, you realise how quickly the rest of the weekend will fly by.
The first act I saw was Rolf Harris, who really got the crowd going, despite the sweltering summer sun. From there it was just a big blur. Walking from field to field, enjoying the diverse food stalls, drinking Pimms and dancing through Shangri La. Unfortunately Gorillaz didn’t live up to everyone’s expectations, but everyone else more than made up for that.
Once evening hits thousands flood to Arcadia, Shangri La and all the other hedonistic delights of Glastonbury. Expect very little sleep for any Glastonbury newbies! Then before we knew it, Saturday morning was upon us, the hottest of the hot days, and we enjoyed delights from the likes of Seasick Steve to the Scissor Sisters, topping it all with a spectacular performance from Muse.
Sunday morning arrived with a welcomed breeze, and despite the unfortunate football scores, the festival revellers remained cheery (well I did at least!). The end was near, and I was getting extremely excited about the thought of getting into a shower, but first things first Jack Johnson, Faithless and Stevie Wonder! Jack Johnson was the perfect act for finishing a lazy Sunday with a glass of Pimms. I personally think Faithless belongs to drunken club dancing, but the majority of the crowd seemed to enjoy them.
Finally, no one could have picked a better act to finish the festival off with than Stevie Wonder. What a character! The music was dazzling, and the performance even more spectacular. He finished off the set by dragging Michael Eavis onto stage and conducting the crowd into a somewhat off key rendition of happy birthday to him, but no matter what we sounded like, what a spectacular way to end the festival!
Glastonbury, I love you.
Friday 30 July 2010
I actually love where my life could go.
I am definitely going to be a journalist. I don't care how I get there, but I will.
I have spent the week working with the lovely people at the Petersfield Post as work experience girl in the corner, and I loved every single minute of it. This time, unlike my last work experience week, I actually was given worthwhile things to do... like heaven forbid writing! Five articles published by my third day at the paper... Amazing!
Unfortunately none of them had my names on them.. Next week's paper should show a couple with my name attached!
I even went to a massive convention for a specific branch of Islaam, which was absolutely fascinating. In the middle of nowhere, and it was incredible. (more to come later!)
I wish I could work there next week. I have had the best week of it, and I'm so upset that it's all finished now!
I'm going to be next Veronica Guerin, without being shot of course.
I have spent the week working with the lovely people at the Petersfield Post as work experience girl in the corner, and I loved every single minute of it. This time, unlike my last work experience week, I actually was given worthwhile things to do... like heaven forbid writing! Five articles published by my third day at the paper... Amazing!
Unfortunately none of them had my names on them.. Next week's paper should show a couple with my name attached!
I even went to a massive convention for a specific branch of Islaam, which was absolutely fascinating. In the middle of nowhere, and it was incredible. (more to come later!)
I wish I could work there next week. I have had the best week of it, and I'm so upset that it's all finished now!
I'm going to be next Veronica Guerin, without being shot of course.
Monday 1 February 2010
First post of February, wreyy!
You know what really annoys me, is when people talk to you, and they are there, be it texting or online, and then they stop, yet you know they're still there. You texted me idiot, so why are you not responding sort of thing. Its quite abnormally frustrating!
I'm trying very hard not to be psycho you must talk to me girlfriend, it's just easier to get angry at my boyfriend than it is at my friends, because.. well you don't get angry at your friends, you get angry at the people you love?
I don't know, it's just very annoying.
It's similar to the "treat 'em mean" technique, where you treat them "mean" so you could ignore, or be overly casual, and they want more. Maybe thats my problem.. I have it in my head that he's ignoring me, although he started the conversation so I seriously doubt he is ignoring me. After my response I hear no feed back so I immediately wonder whats the matter, and then bam, I am acting like psycho girlfriend and demands he talks to me. (These demands are always ignored, my boyfriend knows me too well)
You know what really annoys me, is when people talk to you, and they are there, be it texting or online, and then they stop, yet you know they're still there. You texted me idiot, so why are you not responding sort of thing. Its quite abnormally frustrating!
I'm trying very hard not to be psycho you must talk to me girlfriend, it's just easier to get angry at my boyfriend than it is at my friends, because.. well you don't get angry at your friends, you get angry at the people you love?
I don't know, it's just very annoying.
It's similar to the "treat 'em mean" technique, where you treat them "mean" so you could ignore, or be overly casual, and they want more. Maybe thats my problem.. I have it in my head that he's ignoring me, although he started the conversation so I seriously doubt he is ignoring me. After my response I hear no feed back so I immediately wonder whats the matter, and then bam, I am acting like psycho girlfriend and demands he talks to me. (These demands are always ignored, my boyfriend knows me too well)
Saturday 30 January 2010
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