YOU'RE A BLOG!

Well, maybe not so much a life saver, I’ve not once heard of someone die of typo. However, having recently posted my first article which I checked and double checked myself, I went off to enjoy the student life of having some beers. It was only when my ever-loving girlfriend messaged me to say I’d made some errors and mistakes on my article that I noticed such basic problems. Because I drafted and then cut it, I had missed out certain words, pluralized for no reason and overused the word ‘and’ completely.

It’s now edited, and looking better than ever. I’d recommend getting someone close to proof read your work, the closeness factor because then they care that you do well and will look more than someone forced into it. I’ll be using the girlfriend (not in that way!) to check up more of my articles because she’s highly intelligent, and she wants me to pass.

Score!

http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=160047409378&ref=ts

This link, for all those with Facebook, is the new group for those taking Journalism at Level 1. Anybody can add this group, but people abusing it will be removed. Rachel Matthews is also available in the group, and discussions on advertising your blog, Journalist-only nights out, and the chance to meet new friends are all available here.

Moi et Charlotte Kerr are heading the group, any questions can be messaged to us at any time.

‘You spend the first year making lots of friends, and the next two trying to get rid of them.’

This is the one thing I really bothered remembering of my fathers endlessly recycled stories and quotes. A description of the social networking (no, not Facebook for once, though it appears the group opposite me decided to spend £3200 of tuition fees staring at the worlds worst collection of ‘fit’ chavs on that site instead of actually working) that appears in university in the way of friendships. I currently have a small group of regular people I talk to, both in my course and in my hall, with just one crossing over to both sides who mothers me and feeds me because I came here with as many items of food as an Etheopian child. I have a mostly blind guy to help out, who is the basis of most practical jokes, a couple of posh southerners and a girl with a laugh that sounds like a hyena on acid. Being stabbed.

It’s fun though, endless entertainment has come from these few days. I, in myself, know who will stay and who will go, and can easily predict who will argue with who. I’m good with body language, and really good at psychological analysis of people, and therefore can work out who will go where and who Emily will shout at first. The best part; they tolerate my humour and they like my friends and girlfriend, so I live in hope that next year I won’t be running and hiding from everyone (except the blind guy, I simply have to be quiet).

But my God, that laugh will be the death of me/her.