Help me, I want to be a journalist.

Some bloggers write as a side project, some make a reasonable living from it, and a lot of us do it because we want to be some sort of writer or a journalist. Those of us who do that are used to the struggling life of a writer, we know what it’s like to suffer in order to perfect our craft. It involves spreading ourselves far too thin, and staring at a blank white page on Word in the ugly hours of the night. Then we go to our normal jobs looking like a homeless version of one of the witches from Hocus Pocus. It is a delightful experience of everybody.

Who even gets to be a journalist now? Is it anybody who can afford to do a Masters at a prestigious journalism school? Is it someone with the right connections? Or can we chock it up to dumb luck? Journalism is one of the least secure career paths you can choose, stability is not on the cards and financially you’re not in for a pot of gold unless you’re secretly Piers Morgan. If you want to go into this field, you need a thick skin and an arrogant edge that tells you you’re the best. You’ll get no where without self belief.

These are the things I know about the path to getting your job as a writer or journalist. If you need me, I’ll be sat in a corner chewing on my hair, because this job path has driven me to insane and unbelievable actions. Read all about it, Goldilocks ruined her hair! Suffered for art! Continue reading

Something wicked this way comes: telling the story of Halloween

Image from my own Instagram
“The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where one ends, and where the other begins?” – Edgar Allan Poe

Come in my pretties, can I take your coat? Please, make yourselves at home. There now, there is no need to be afraid of All Hallows’ Eve. Take off your mask, there is no need for that here, I know exactly who you are. Are you sitting comfortably?

It began almost 2,000 years ago, when the Celts across Europe celebrated their New Year’s Eve. Known as Samhain Eve, it was celebrated at the end of October before the colder months chilled the bones of our ancestors. They didn’t own overpriced Barbour jackets or hot water bottles to keep them warm, you see. Samhain, means November in Irish and celebrated the end of a bountiful harvest season and the disappearance of the warm summer months. As the line waned between autumn and winter, it was legend that so did the veil between the living and the dead. On this particular night, spirits were thought to walk with the living, many on their way to the afterlife. Continue reading

Why do we care what Banksy thinks of the One World Trade Centre?

Image my own.

Street artist Bansky submitted a controversial Op-Ed to The New York Times. It was rejected, due to the newspaper’s inability to agree on the piece or the images used. The piece was then posted as a NYT mockup on Banksy’s own website, among many things he stated that the new One World Trade Centre is evidence that “the terrorists won” and that New York has lost it’s nerve.  New York Times spokesperson Eileen Murphy also told the New York Post that “What he has posted on his site is not exactly the same as what he submitted.”

“It would be easy to view One World Trade Centre as a betrayal of everyone who lost their lives on September 11th, because it so clearly proclaims the terrorists won.”

XOXO: Hey, Dan Humphrey, give me my personality back.

Original image property of The CW.

For a large part of my life I grew up with the characters of Gossip Girl. I was the target demographic of the show, and week upon week it enthralled me with it’s silly gossip, cruel scheming and sequin cardigans. I don’t know the meaning of guilty pleasures – anything I love, I love with little shame. Between the ages of 17 and 22, I was devoted to Chuck Bass and his scarf. Lies, I am still very much devoted. Anyone who watched the show liked to think they were a Blair, a Serena, or a Little J, in the same way people associated their personalities with Friends characters.

I could be Blair, I’ve lashed enough people with scolding remarks to be. I also like a headband. I could be Serena Van Der Woodsen, I’ve made enough stupid mistakes to be. I also like her hair. But no way could I ever be Dan Humphrey. So judgmental, so narrow minded, and such a wannabe. I could never be Dan Humphrey. Except, it seems that I am. Drat.  Continue reading

Class of 2012: One Year On, Two Credit Cards Later

Time flies when you’re having fun. And when you’re sinking into debt. C’est la vie, friends. We are not in it alone. That day was almost a year ago, when we looked ahead with ferocity and a slight naivety towards the job market. Continue reading

15.06.2013 – Goodbye, to my best friend.

This is one of those posts I have refused to face. I know I have to do it, as I did for Alfie. Back in February, we lost our favourite old bear – our old boxer dog, Alfie. Last month, we lost Jack.

Its one of those emotional car wrecks that few can understand. Grief affects everyone, and in different ways. They told me to write about it, it’s a cathartic process. They said it will help. They say there are five distinct stages of grief, acceptance is the worst. It means making room in your life for the change, and for the loss. It means knowing you’ll never get to share Marmite on toast with him again. Continue reading