Money Versus Happiness
I can relate to silvia’s blog about the struggles of breaking into the elusive journalism industry. The journalism industry is tough to get into and the meagre financial support makes it hard to stay in the industry.
In response to Silvia’s “Welcome to your inner journalism conflict: Passion vs Money”, I agree that many aspiring journalists make the horizontal move to PR/marketing because the money is far more welcoming and, for a woman, I think it’s far more accommodating. Silvia outlines some reasons as to why wannabe journo’s become PR pawns:
- It’s safer, better salary;
- deadlines are not daily or hourly;
- the hours a more flexible hence, more time to spend with family and friends;
- and lastly, you usually tend to drive yourself from the office to ‘events’ (with champagne included) rather than being all day reporting from location
Complimentary champagne sounds great but if they said complimentary dark chocolate truffle was offered I’d take the first flight out of journo ville to PR city.
No, actually I probably wouldn’t. But I have dabbled in marketing before landing my current online gig. I was working as a ‘Marketing Co-ordinator’ for a major telecommunications company in Australia and it was a seamless transition graduating from selling phones to scheming how to make consumers think they need an unnecessary phone.
The money was better than expected, especially for a university graduate, and the job perks definitely made me perky. Everything was going swell until I was told I needed to work an Excel spreadsheet (*dun dun duuuun*!). Yes, as a person who forged an intimate relationship with Word, I found it highly distressing that I needed to abandon words form numbers. When my boss told me that, I knew I would last as long as an ice cube under a blazing sun.
Four months later…and several screaming matches and counselling sessions with Excel, I exited marketing and entered online journalism.
Now, the only time I use Excel is to read competition entries which suits me fine. Needless to say, my relationship with Word has never been stronger.
Journalism Industry : Friend or Foe?
How difficult is it to score a journalism job in Australia? Pretty damn hard. And the saying “it’s not what you know but who you know” rings louder than church bells on a Sunday morning at the moment. Sure, I fortunately have one foot in the journalism door… or, just a toe, really but I’m thankful I’m here. Unfortunately, I can’t say the same thing for every aspiring journalist.
I came across this site that gives “32 life tips for journalism graduates entering the newspaper industry”. Perusing each point, I realised that his tips are pertinent to every competitive facet of the journalism industry.
What are some of his tips?
1) Go with your gut be sure to recognise the difference between fear and your true gut instinct.
I can relate to this. Before scoring my current job, I applied for a craft magazine and during my interview my gut told me this place would be as boring as reading a UBD and I just wasn’t feeling “the vibe” even though the interviewer appeared really keen on hiring me. I didn’t get the job. But, instead of being crestfallen (which is my reflex-reaction to rejection) I was a tad relieved. I then applied for my current job and was feeling “the vibe” and my gut told me to act casual and screw my professional persona during the interview. It worked. And so did my gut.
2) Your boss matters way more than where you are working - choose your boss wisely.
Now this tip is close to my heart. I had a boss who was as useful as a polished turd and he was paid about 3 times as much as me when I did ALL the work. Luckily for me, the right people started to notice at his lack of…well, everything and he left his job. My point : Whether you’re just starting out in this industry or have been a journalist for 20 years, you’re worth every cent and more. Don’t let any one tell you otherwise.
3) Have a backup plan - don’t put all your eggs in one basket
So true. During my undergrad years, I was dead-set keen on working in the print industry. So, I applied for work experience at community papers, the big guns and magazines. I scored a few free gigs but not many. Then, I went to the States to study broadcast journalism and I fell in love. But, as much as I’m determined to make it in the elusive TV industry I haven’t disregarded other forms of journalism which is why I’m working in online field at the moment.
The best thing to do is dip your hand into any sea of journalism possible - you have nothing to lose but much experience to gain.
Working In A Sausage Fest
As I mentioned in my earlier blog, I work for a men’s magazine. I work on the mag’s website, to be exact. Currently in my office there are 3 women to21 men and that number will dwindle to 2 once my fellow oestrogen-filled colleague leaves.
Let me relay some of my observations of the male species. Firstly, it’s a lie when people say “women are such gossip queens”. Men are just as bad, if not worse. Men critique on just about anything and everything and I have heard and observed it with my own eyes. As part of the minority (I reiterate: 3 women to 21 men) My colleagues and I feel there is a “great divide” among us and them. At times, we feel like there are one set of rules for them and another for us. What’s the usual response given to us when we protest these partial office rules? “What do you expect? You work for a men’s mag”. Of course we tacitly scoff in their faces but they unfortunately have a point.
So, in attempt to build some sort of bridge between these two worlds, the minority proposed a group lunch - open to all ages, sexes and species in the office. Much to our *surprise (*note sarcasm) our offer was declined with thinly veiled excuses of prior engagements. Well, at least we tried and this sexes-divide doesn’t only exist in my office.
The journalism industry as a whole is dominated by men. Just watch the news and you’ll see 35+ men are reading the news while women (usually sporting a short ‘do which is a requirement to make them look more masculine, thus credible) are in their 20’s! Look, don’t get me wrong. I enjoy working in an office dominated by men. Sure you get the occasional paper ball to the head, you hear and smell bodily functions that you wish you didn’t, and your after-work-pub-drink chats usually centre around sex…and bodily functions. I haven’t worked in an environment that’s heavily dominated by women, and I wonder how 2 men would feel working among 20 women. Wait. That’s 40 pairs of boobs…who am I kidding? They would salivate at the thought.
A Pant-pleasing 12
Pic sourced from fabulousmag.co.uk
Curves are in people! No, I’m not wasted or from another planet, I consider myself relatively sane. But I think this blog is a good opportunity to scream to the cyber world that curves are sexy on both female and male physiques. And I’m not alone.
Working for a popular men’s magazine has opened my eyes and ears to what men think about the female form and ladies I must tell you that men prefer nibbling meat than bones. Fact. And these guys proved my point. According their recent survey, they found that “While women yearn for the waspish waist of a size 8 model, men hanker after a curvy size 12 with hips”. Ya see, it’s true.
Also, being surrounded by men at work on a daily basis and being required to write about ‘guy’s stuff’ allowed me insight into the male mind never before imagined. What I’ve discovered is that men like boobs (that’s about as surprising as cake at a birthday party) and they like voluptuous figures. Case in point : I put a picture of Nicole Ritchie up pre-waifer-thin days beside one of her now and the overwhelming consensus was that Ms. Ritchie was attractive when you couldn’t count her vertebrae through her clothes. But this isn’t an isolated case. Ninety percent of the time, when I post a “pant-pleasing” pic of curvaceous woman, the comments from men are glowing and as classy as a truckie dancing a waltz, so I won’t repeat their words.
Like the millions of other ladies, I wish that with a snap of a finger I could drop a dress size or two but I think that this self-depricating aim for immortal perfection is not just rattling the psyche of females but men also. I’ll share a useless trick that’s not so useless for me - when one more dimple of cellulite appears on my thigh or when I’m introduced to a svelte model, I think to myself : it could be worse. And it always can be.
What Makes A Hero?
Just returned from a 2.5 hour stint at the local movie theatre watching the highly sensationalised flick Dark Knight. Despite the hype propelled by Ledger’s death, Dark Knight deserves every positive review because of it’s engaging script and eye-popping special effects.
The best part of the flick was the ending (usually, I say this when the movie was as entertaining as watching a banana rot. This is not one of those times) because of what it said about heroes. I won’t divulge the ending just in case some haven’t watched it, but I do recommend you see it only to get a better grasp of what I’m talking about (yes, solely for my benefit). The ending went something like this : batman rides off into the night “not as the hero Gotham needs but as a hero they deserve.” This got me thinking: what makes a hero?
Comic books/cartoons have embedded us with the idea that heroes save lives, enforce morals and host a buff bod. But is this really the case?
Well, for Australians it’s not… at least not with the buff bod criterion.
Every year, the nation recognises a true-blue hero awarding them with the honorary title of Australian of the Year . But what makes them such a hero? According to this site, heroes are folk “who are role models for us all. They inspire us through their achievements and challenge us to make our own contribution to creating a better Australia.The Local Hero Award provides an important way of acknowledging Australians who are making a real difference to the lives of those around them.”
Well, that’s a no-brainer.
But seeing as the past winners included musicians, doctors, professors, athletes, priests, etc., these recognised heroes may not have all complied with the buff bod or saving lives criteria, but each has overtly demonstrated socially-revered morals.
Wait a minute.
I witness such socially-revered morals every day. Hate to sound “Family Ties” corny but my family inspire and challenge me everyday and I’m certain you have a friend/family/religion that motivates you to be a better person, thus “creating a better Australia”.
You try to make a difference to your life (I assume) therefore, “making a real difference” to the lives of those around you.
So what’s my point?
Basically, that everyone of us can be considered a hero. Sure, you may not possess super strength, unwavering morals, rippling abs or a perky arse but maybe it’s because you don’t have those attributes that doesn’t make you a hero this country needs but one it deserves.
Do First Impressions count?
They say that it takes from three seconds to three minutes for you to judge someone – for you to determine whether that person is a twit or not. Well, I’ll admit it - I’m judgemental and my judging kicks in at the 3.5-second mark. But my judgements, which are guided by gut feelings, are usually right.
I wonder: what makes a good first impression, good? Is it immaculate grooming? Or would that make you think the person is conceited? Would you think the person was dumb because they had a heavy accent or they use prepositions incorrectly in their sentences? If they had something foreign dangling from their nostril, would you remember them by that embarrassing gaffe and not by their polite disposition?
I’ve been introduced to a few new people lately, through work and friends, and sure enough I’ve made my judgements about them like how they would be as a friend, how shit they would be as a lover… or how good. But what concerns me is not my tacit judgements about them but what judgements they have made in the first three minutes of meeting me. And heaven forbid I have something foreign dangling from my nose.
From what I’ve been told, I’m the “quiet tall girl - the REALLY tall girl who seems nice”. Well, it could be worse, I guess.
The thing is though, that it’s not the first impression that counts the most, I think it’s what comes after the initial meet. What about if the qualities that impressed someone aren’t there when you meet again? What if their angelic perception of you is shattered after they see you blind drunk and legless, seductively booty shaking to a tree? (Please note: this scenario is not based on personal experience well, except that it was a bar stool and not a tree).
I think second impressions are as important as the blurb to a book – sure the book’s cover gets your attention first, but it’s by reading the blurb that makes you decide whether it’s a keeper or not.
Beijing Olympics = Bollocks.
I made a conscious effort to boycott the Beijing Olympics opening ceremony on Friday night (which was a genius idea considering it finished at 2 am) as a defiant act against China’s ridiculous restrictions of freedom of expression and out of respect for all those Chinese inhabitants that were left homeless to accommodate for superfluous Olympic venues.
I feel that many Australians take their ability to ‘freely’ express themselves for granted – people it’s a freaking luxury!
With the world’s magnifying glass on Beijing at the moment, the media is manic with reporting China’s disturbing censorship of expression. If authorities smell just a waft of dissidence, they have the power and right to incarcerate your opinionated arse, leaving behind the stench of crucified expression.
How the hell can this overt manipulation of power prevail?
Chinese ‘netizens’ are rallying against the Great Firewall of China that is intended to prevent, deter and detect anyone who reads, downloads or publishing reports deemed to challenge the government’s hold on power. How is this done? Well, China employs tens of thousands of censors who trawl sites/blogs to detect and erase comments related to sensitive topics such as sex and politics. Imagine…no more Sam in the City… (Probably a good thing, actually).
But the ironic thing is that China now has the world’s largest population of Internet users. It’s beyond sad, people.
Right now, as I’m writing, I can’t imagine what it must feel like to write this blog with the fear of being imprisoned – my only concern is correct spelling and grammar and that’s concern enough for me.
The thing is, Chinese authorities are superb at muting voices but don’t do so well in protecting citizens against terrorist attacks. Go figure. I guess the only thing you, I or anyone can do is speak on the behalf of those muted voices until we’re left speechless
What You Can Expect
Hrm… well, I’d like think you can expect to be highly entertained like a pimply-testosterone-filled boy at his first sex ed lesson but who knows - one can only hope.
In this blog I will write about anything that’s topical and give it a J9 spin. That is to say, I will write about why it’s of interest and offer my interpretation on the matter. Oh and my comments welcome feedback of any nature - cruel or kind.
I’m sure many try to make their blogs funny, eccentric or just outlandish to distinguish themselves from the millions that are out there. But, I will not try to make my words something that they’re not. So, you may or may not be highly entertained. You may or may not laugh out loud. You may or may not like me by the time you finished perusing my words.
I guess the one thing you can expect is at least 2 entries per week.
