Oi oi saveloys,
I'm writing my feature on Japan for GYB (the premier B2B for the gap industry) and I'm just nipping away from it to write this blog.
Here's a question - how do you get from a cardiologist to a male ballerina to a female ballerina to a brewer to a boxer and finally to the keeper of the Crown Jewels ? (Keith I'm giving this capitals but if it's not house style please feel free to whack me with the style guide)
Well I will tell you, it's by having to do this blinking Life in the Day of feature :s (grumble, grumble). It doesn't help, that I get really nervous about interviews. It also doesn't help being bounced around by potential interviewees. Anyway, at least it's now sorted and it's parr of the course in the life of the journalist. It's called the right royal runaround.
Enough moaning it's boring and unattractive, but I think we've all been doing a touch of it and rightly so cause this course is bloody hard. So although I'm not an expert, I can tell you now there will be either 10 super bad ass journalists or a pile of corpses at the end of this debacle.
I think if anything is going to be the death of me and my fellow students, it will be blinking subbing. That reminds me I must blink, Keith told me to. I am just grateful I colour my hair, as the grey would definitely have shown by now.
The other issue dividing us is John "who haven't I had" Terry (Ade - I'm aware this is repeating libel but I will use the defence of the truth), who Guber thinks is legend and, who me and the other gals think is a right dirty beggar.
Despite the hellish work load and Keith's manic laughter as he delivers us yet another subbing abomination we are all pulling together and willing each other on.
Right I must get back to Japan, well in print anyway.
Ta ta my lovelies,