It's all about The Times

Even though I am only 21-years old, I have done my fair share of work experience gigs in the wonderful world of newspapers and magazines.

These have ranged from farcical times at society magazine Tatler to one lazy yet incredible day at The Idler.
My range of experiences have been broad but there is one place I have kept coming back to and that is The Times.

This is because it is a place filled with brains not pretensions. The journalists have worked hard to get where they are and therefore have some memory of what it is like to be on work experience. This is why they ensure you do more than just the post.

Currently I am spending some time with the times2 lot and really liking the fact that:

a) they all know my name
b) I have been giving writing and researching to do
c) so far I have made no tea and had 5 cups made for me, and counting
d) it is exciting as we go to press every day at 2pm

The icing on the cake?
They printed a baby by-line of mine today!

It's the Jonathan Ross show don't you know?

Jonathan Ross has fully lost it. I know the show is called Friday Night with Jonathan Ross but he has taken the focus on himself way too far.

Guests come and sit on his uncomfortable looking sofa - very similar to ones seen in counsellors’ offices - and instead of the 20 minutes being about them, it is about Mr past-it-Ross.

How can he possibly love every single person's work who comes on the show and then expect us to believe any of his film reviews on Film 2006 have any truth in them?

Ross's only way of keeping up with the kids is by being increasingly uncouth, swearing a lot and adjusting his tie to the sound of half-hearted laughter. I feel increasingly sorry for his poor wife and kids, often the butt of his inappropriate jokes.

A good interviewer should ask those questions you have been dying to hear the answers to and would never have the opportunity, or the balls, to ask yourself. They should not just say something random, run with it for a cringe-worthy amount of time and barely let the interviewee speak.

Ross needs to strip back to basics and check out his71 -year old ITV counterpart - good old Michael Parkinson. He may be old school, but he is a damn good interviewer. Why else would he still be on television in a prime time slot?

There is too much of Jonathan Ross in his talk show. And there is too much of him everywhere else. He gets every gig. Personally I feel Britain needs someone new and quick. And how did he do this?

And has anyone else noticed that he is starting to scarily resemble Terry Wogan?

Maybe it’s a Radio 2 thing.

Leave poor Wills and Harry alone

Enough is enough. This Diana probing has gone on for far too long. And even though a line has 'officially' been drawn under the whole thing now - the conspiracy theorists will continue until they are blue in the face and none the wiser.

Diana may have been the Princess of some people's hearts but she was also a mother. A mother of two sons who still live on today under the media's glare. They deserve a break. Their mother needs to be laid to rest along with all the ridiculous stories surrounding the ACCIDENT that put her there.

And as for Mohamed Al Fayed- he really is going about getting a British passport all the wrong ways. Calling the Royal family murderers? Smooth.
Just now when to pipe down.


For the full extent of the insanity that Lord Stevens's 832-page report has caused, check this out.

Protection for prostitutes

The Ipswich murders are so gruesome that it is hard to imagine what good could have come from them.

As minor as this seems, in comparison to the price of lives, the media's treatment of these women has been truly remarkable. Although prostitutes, they have all been shown as real women who had lives - beyond their jobs - which included family, friends and loved ones.

They have not just been depicted as soulless prostitutes and judged per usual. I hope that this represents a step forward in Britain's regular attitude towards prostitution. It may not be legal over here yet, but it goes on all the same and always has done. The difference is though, the awfully English temperament dictates that although people know it is happening, they must never speak of it, unless to condemn. Sheer hypocrisy is the always the English way. A hush hush attitude over anything remotely socially awkward.

This remains the case despite the fact we now have prostitution officers in the police force, openly signposted brothels and countless advertisements in the backs of newspapers every day.

England needs to get real and see these women need protection not judgement.If Ipswich doesn't prove this - I shudder to think what will.

What a difference an 'a' makes

Ok so my technophobia is now something I am known and loved for - I have to vent my rage at how anal html or as I prefer, geek- speak, really is.

There I was uploading my very first long piece of online journalism, when suddenly everything in one of my columns goes red. As in - everything became a link. And yes for the record I am aware of how boring this may be to recount - but after re-doing the html three times - which may I add took over an hour - it was still red.

By then I was seeing red. The problem all along was that I hadn't properly finished a previous bit of coding. As in I had missed out this: /a. That was it. No more. No less.

Online may seem speedy, but geek- speak requires a level of precision I despise. Computers do start sending me a little loopy after six hour stints - although I am still loving the blog.

Me, myself and my bloody laptop

Anyone else getting sick of 'studying' to become a journalist and yet never having any time to read any newspapers or magazines?

The irony is killing me. I forced to do exactly what I said I would never do and that is read my news online. Gone are my lazy student afternoons with The Times and all its glorious supplements. Now I just tap tap tap away at my laptop. Is this how journalism is always going to be? Me, a cup of hot sweet tea (which I am seriously considering adding some booze to) and my partner in life: Mr Packard bloody Bell.

Something's got to change! But why does it look so good on the Sex and the City though? Oh I know - maybe it has something to do with the fact that Carrie has fabulous shoes, clothes, food and a cool little apartment - in NEW YORK not CARDIFF. My window looks out on to a burned down mosque and a dodgy garage - which strange men permanently enter into through a very small door. I suddenly see the difference.

Oh and the fact she has a job - where she can just write about her own life and never have to do any research - isn't that the essence of blogging?

I need to live this dream - or maybe get paid by someone to blog.

Going to do a week at The Times next week - maybe if I can find Murdoch in his iron palace - he might consider it.

Ok now I am hallucinating and need to do some work.

I started World War III

So apparently I am living with the enemy. As in - the bedroom directly below me contains a PR person. Oh shit - do I need to start watching my back? Because apparently they are public enemy number 1 to us journos.

But the thing is I just don't feel remotely passionate about this so-called heated debate- in the real world. But then in the Cardiff University microcosm - I suppose I have felt myself get slightly bothered this week.

What happened was:

I may have been shown where the PR students' blog was, and then may have been sworn to secrecy, and then may have told a few journos, who may have all gone a little crazy and then a PR vs. Journos war may have erupted in good old blogosphere.

Post our mock press conference last week with the PR students- tensions have been slightly fraught. We magazine lot were told to be naughty but when it came to my group's turn -we had to be tame as apparently some PR tears were shed. Boring - and yet our group were still insulted on this infamous blog - although we were as good as gold. It is not my fault that our PR girls' nerves were shot to shit, that spelling errors plagued the press packs and the only answers given were something along the lines of - "we just do not know that yet."

Apparently our 125 word long articles were shit. I beg to differ. With the greatest respect the PR girls spoke and presented themselves beautifully - apart from the one girl who felt the need to slam the door in our faces (you know who you are) - but they simply lacked in-depth knowledge and a command of their topic. We struggled to even make an article. Can you imagine if it had to have been longer than 125 words? Sorry to the newspaper lot who had to do just that - well there's another reason for you guys to think you are better, more serious journos than us... see I am helpful!

OK, I have ranted - but I have saved it for my own blog - not just taken to defacing the PR one. That's a bit too mainstream nowadays. In general though - I do have the greatest respect for the PR industry because I believe we journos occupy one half of the same coin. I call for peace.

Our mock conference was such a silly exercise and I did feel genuinely bad to the PR lot as they had obviously been working seriously on this presentation for a long time. I know this as one keen Clifford-wannabe lives below me and she knew her stats.

So I, as architect of all this week's blogging chaos, will try and make amends in my next feature piece - which will seek to flesh out the specifics of this heated relationship and actually show how beautiful it can really be.

Hurray -Guess who's back

Ok so need to ammend one of posts - Press Gazette is back and I am very happy.

This is also bad as I was speedy in replacing my work experience slot - I now have a week at The Stage. Bah, choices - what is a media-minded culture vulture to do?

Watch this space...







Or don't. It may get dull.