The Scandilous Life

It's back and it's worse than ever!

2010-09-27T21:16:00.003+01:00

The Scandilous Life will finally be back on your screens in a near future
Do you want to read all about my schizo life, split 50/50 between Jäger-guzzling, cocktail serving, high-heel swaying hospitality industry madness in London and loud-mouthed, cocky(to say the least), geeked out journalism in Medway where I edit a future award-winning student online newspaper and magazine? Of course you do!

And you can find it right here

--> http://www.themedwire.co.uk/categories/blogs/scandilouslife/ <--

A bliss that tastes of strawberries and whipped cream

2010-06-30T19:13:00.003+01:00

I finally moved the last of my belongings out of Liberty Quays, Kent University at Medway accomodation. I am out. It is finally completely off my hands. Staring out over Balham High Street I watch the cars and bright red double-deckers go past as the fruit and veg-guy packs up his raspberries and Jersey Royals for the day. The wind that carries the sweet smell of summer nestles its way in through the open windows and makes my boyfriend's pots of chillies on the windowsill dance in the setting sun. I can hear the laughter and muffled music from B@1 downstairs, and it mixes well with the sound of my guitar as I am tuning it.
It is the last day of June and I have absolutely nothing to do tonight. And on Sunday I am going to Sweden.

I can also tick two things off the list of "Things to do before death". Stevie Wonder and Paul McCartney was two breathtaking concerts. 50 000 people singing/belching/slurring/bellowing along to Sir Duke on Saturday night underneath a starry sky over Hyde Park and fireworks in the sunset to Live and Let Die on Sunday. I honestly don't know what to say. And those who know me can tell you - that is rare.

Champagne should be drunk on a roofterrace. Preferrably Aqua's

2010-06-23T11:02:00.003+01:00

Whoa, did someone say an intense week?

End of exams celebrations with hugs, laughter and a mini bottle of rosé, rushing back to London for friends waiting with the Jägermeister on ice and even more hugs. Thursday will probably be crowned day of the year as the night celebrating my dearest Sarah Mitchell turning 21(I think) kicked off with Sagatiba training, Champagne on Aqua's roofterrace overlooking my beautiful Central London, a breathtaking Robyn concert and then - neither of us remember much more.
No need to drone on, yet I have to say that despite no more university, my brain is slowly but surely morphing into mashed potatoes. 12 hour shifts and little to no sleep is doing the trick.
But my dear chickens - get out in the sun! Screw the budget - it's not as bad as we thought! Yet someone made an interesting point. Through all the calculations of how much the low income to high income families would suffer etc. - no one had thought of the single professional household. Ones like me and my friends who tend to be unmarried, unreproduced, young professionals living in flatshares and working long hours with a despicable wage. What about us? Is this because we are a London phenomena?

Dear internal organs

2010-06-14T14:16:00.004+01:00

I am writing to you in advance to apologize for the horrifying events that will occur over the next four days(14/06/2010-17/06/2010) and sadly effect you and your partners. I am aware of the agreements previously set (see life contract, signed 25/07/1990) and the promises made by both parts to coexist under these, however, this will be an exception. Despite our relentless efforts to make vital cutbacks, certain areas will undoubtedly be affected more than others, such as liver and gastric functions.

My sincerest apologies and with best wishes for a swift recovery
Sara Malm

It's been 365 days

2010-06-12T13:09:00.003+01:00

One year ago , she met a boy who hates sports and he met a girl who loves whisky.

The rest is, as they say, history.

I am waving my wand and my exams are still there!

2010-06-09T18:06:00.003+01:00

Bowing out of the Harry P Theme Park argument gracefully (read the clever opponents winning argument here) I have realised that I don't really want a Harry Potter Land Theme Park. I want Harry Potter Land full stop. Ten years after I read Harry for the first time and decided that no matter what happened I was going to be as close to this magical land as possible (yes, that is actually true, I was ten years old when I decided to move to England asap and it was because of J.K. Rowling - eight years later I did) I am still waiting for my Hogwarts letter.

Some would call me a romantic dreamer. Others would call me plain sad.

My feelings regarding politics revision

2010-06-09T16:35:00.000+01:00

Giving up phish for Battersea Cats

2010-06-08T17:36:00.008+01:00

Good deed of the day:

I am giving up Ben & Jerry's in favour of a Battersea Cats and Dogs home Kitty Cabin. £10 a month (just about my normal B&J spendings) are going towards saving some fuzzy, cuddly kittens - not to mention reducing the lard-belt that is my midsection.

YEY, I'm a good person!

A picture of what to expect from the Harry Potter Theme Park in Florida

2010-06-08T17:28:00.004+01:00

This is a promo pic for the Wizarding World of Harry Potter:

You know what I find is the most interesting part of this promo picture? The sky. That sky creates much of the mood and expectations in that picture. The warmth of the light from the fake Hogwarts and the authenticity of the snow on the roofs, is all thanks to that dark sky. The problem is: you would never get that sky in Orlando, Florida. Ever.

In Britain? Hell yes.

So it makes me wonder: Are they going to make a fake sky? Or are Harry Potter fans going to melt in their merchandise robes and hats under a scorching sun? I think the latter.

They can fake the pine trees and the rocks and the snow, the buildings, castles, bridges and lakes - but you cannot fake the British weather.

High time to bring the Harry Potter Theme Park back home to Britain

2010-06-08T16:54:00.002+01:00

"... the fact is that Harry Potter is not American. He is British. Where is Diagon Alley, where they buy wands and stuff? It is in London, and if you want to get into the Ministry of Magic you disappear down a London telephone box. The train for Hogwarts goes from King's Cross, not Grand Central Station ..."

THANK YOU BORIS!

The London Mayor Boris Johnson writes in his weekly Telegraph column about the need to "exploit out intellectual property" and build a British Harry Potter Themepark

Finally someone from some form of British authority has reacted to the murder of J.K. Rowlings magical world. I never understood why there was a need to recreate Northumberland and London in Orlando, Florida when you could do it somewhere in the UK. The world of Harry P is not supposed to be in tropical heat (fake snow on the roofs of Hogsmeade in +28 C - I mean, are you kidding me?) Being one of those hard core Potter fans that re-read the entire series at least once a year and falls asleep pretty much every single sober night to the soothing voice of Stephen Fry (who does an excellent job with the audio version) this is something I will fight tooth and nail for. Not only because there is no way in hell that I could afford going to Florida. Harry Potter is my bible - and you know how stingy people can be about their religion.

Surely we cannot afford to do this with any government funds in the current economical climate, but there must be enough geeks with money to fund this? Boris, I advice you to give Richard Branson a call. Or how about Simon Cowell? Or J.K. Rowling herself? Why would these proud Brits not be willing to put some money towards this? The amount of money an English, substantially more authentic, Harry Potter Themepark could generate is scary.

"The Greater London Authority (GLA) is said to be “highly receptive” to any possible bids," - The New Civil Engineer

This made me giggle in the silent section of the Drill Hall library

2010-06-07T11:32:00.001+01:00

nicked off Sands Media Services blog

Doesn't it suck when even your mother's man is out of your league

2010-06-06T13:21:00.003+01:00

Its not exactly news that I read gossip blogs. And its probably not really a splash that I hate celebspawns that have been given everything just because they have the DNA of some famous person. There are however some exceptions. If your mum is Demi Moore and you still end up looking like Bruce Willis, then you deserve some luxury as compensation.

How was your Saturday night?

2010-06-06T12:22:00.004+01:00

In a bar, you sometimes have those nights, where there are just a few highlights in an overall shitty night. Last night was like that - just without the highlights. Douchebag United decided to have their annual clubmeeting in my bar. Oh the joy.
I had people throwing garnishes - a hen party that started a cucumber fight, and when all the cucumber AND mint was on the floor they went for the ice. Then some promoter with half of Essex in tow was 1 hour and 20 mins late for his bookings - just because you require VIP treatment does not mean you can act like a diva. On top of this another hen party dressed up as "Pink Ladies" where the maid of honour, straight out of Newcastle with the manners to boot, had the audacity to ask me "Can we have free drinks? Can we have free shots? Can we have half price drinks then? But its a hen party, can't you give us anything for free? " The answer was No, No, No and I don't give a flying fuck.

And these were the nice people.

B-b-baby I'm a rockstar

2010-06-04T11:50:00.004+01:00

Dr Geoff Ellis has done some research for UKTV Gold (why the television fee has gone towards this I have no idea), and come up with a connection between when you are born in a sibling group and the likelihood of success in certain areas.
Apparently the eldest child are over 3.5 times more likely to become a rock star than their younger siblings. Three quarters (75%) of the study sample of rock stars were oldest or only children with a personality that include being ambitious, energetic, people pleasers who crave attention.

Before one starts waving these numbers off as bollocks - it does make sense. As an eldest child, hopefully anticipated by your parents, you have all the attention from parents and relatives and you are the star of the show. Then, all of a sudden, without you even realising it, you have been demoted to a mere support act as a new baby arrives. Studies have shown that this shapes kids for life, and it is true! If you take away the rock star part of it, I am all those things. So it seems I have the statistic on my side. I guess all I need now is to be discovered.

"When all the data is considered together, a simple Chi-square test suggests than there is a less than 1% chance of the relationship between sibling group and role type being down to chance alone. When Rock stars are considered in isolation against the rest of the sample group, the probability of the results being purely random are reduced to less than one in a thousand."

I told ya, b-b-b-baby I'm a rockstar...

Dear readers...

2010-06-03T23:00:00.003+01:00

... I am sorry to inform you all that this blog, known as The Scandilous Life, will hereby be no more. It appears that the talanted young author of this blog accidentally started to look at pictures of Aaron Johnson and drowned in her own drool.

I am sorry for your loss
/ Google

An editor in the making?

2010-06-02T15:05:00.004+01:00

Digressing more that a tad bit from my history revision I am reading about editorship in Andrew Marr's My Trade (a book that is going to save my degree if I ever saw one). Becoming an editor is my number one dream, it is up there with publishing a novel, owning a house, losing two stone and affording a pair of Loubotins and yet affording to eat and pay rent ( listed in order of significance). Without bragging I can say that already I have some of the qualities that I need - I get a kick out of being in charge, I am powerhungry and I have an ego the size of Oxfordshire. However - one major piece is missing. One piece that seem to be vital to becoming an editor.
I cant do conflicts and confrontations.
I can break down a person to crumbles, slag off his/her work, ethics, personality and apperance - as long as he/she is not there. I cant bear to be mean and awful to someone's face - mainly because I don't like the thought of making people sad (I go by the old saying that what you don't know wont make you cry) but more importantly I am shit in physical combat. I get nervous and lose my words. I avoid my opponets gaze, stutter something incoherent and walk around cursing to myself for the remainder of the day because I was too much of a coward to talk back.
Marr writes about the heaps of mail with abuse and negative feedback. All that negativity have to come off like water on a goose's back. With me? More like a drenched kitten. I take it all personally and go into a corner and cry. Seriously. I am absolutely awful with critique - maybe that's why I am so sheisse at giving it to others.

I need to toughen up. I need to become a complete bitch - and be OK with it. I've got anywhere between 10 and 30 years to do it. So feel free to tell me I'm fat, and wait for my retort.

Enough said...

2010-06-01T23:31:00.003+01:00

"Let us be candid. What an editor needs most is a monstrously large ego"

MOTHER, HOW DARE YOU?!

2010-05-31T16:49:00.001+01:00

Of course I don't drink at work!

emcartoons.com

Tabloid philosophy

2010-05-30T22:51:00.002+01:00

"Tickle the public and make them grin
The more you tickle, the more you'll win
Teach the public, you'll never grow rich
You'll live like a beggar and die in a ditch"
- British newspaper industry saying, anno 19th century

Here we come, walking down the street get the funniest looks from everyone we meet

2010-05-28T13:04:00.005+01:00

A sunny Balham was the only thing that could possibly have brought some joy in my life today - and it did!
After boyfriend made the incredibly stupid mistake of saying "take my money and go buy breakfast. Buy anything you like", I skipped to Sainsbury's and went all out. Steak for lunch, cherries and strawberries and the greatest comfort food known to humankind. Swedish meatballs.

One is over, and now there is only seven to go - I filed my convergent journalism portfolio last night which included reports on; a Victorian courtship class for Valentines Day, the hospitality industry and the voucher culture and Pixie Lott's clothes launch. Did I hear anyone say 'feature writer'?

The uni newspaper is finally coming together in my head, and it's looking pretty good. Every time I have given one of my editors the outlines of something that I want to have for next year - they have already thought of most of it. I say it again; Honey I'm HOME!

Giggle of the day

2010-05-26T13:09:00.001+01:00

Now I have something other than love of whisky in common with the Scottish

2010-05-25T12:44:00.002+01:00

I have forgotten to tell the blog something. Despite being a little on the "strawberry blond" side over the past six months, I have now, accidentally, gone over the dark side. Or ginger if that's what you want to call it. It looks dreadful. red and dreadful.
The box said golden brown. It lied.

So there will be no pictures of me on Facebook or on this blog for another 24 washes.

"Ron had been suffering from swine flu and people were avoiding him. Luckily he was ginger and he was used to it" - Frankie Boyle on Deleted Lines From A Fantasy Film

So I shouted 'Honey, I'm home!'

2010-05-21T00:58:00.004+01:00

There is a little flicker inside my stomach, like a lonely butterfly. I am reading messages, suggestions, ideas that are bursting out of the amazing, creative minds that are my friends and classmates. 'We should have this!', 'I want to write about this!', 'Can I please do this?'
My new baby, the Universities at Medway student mag year 2010-2011, is starting to take shape. Going online, news bulletins, podcasts and investigating, innovative and imaginative journalism. Such is life for dogs like us.

And they're my team. My ickle chickens. A pack of gossip girls, daredevils and slick hacks led by (in my own words) 'an amazonian goddess in pretty shoes', ready to release Scandilous on the world.

I'm so excited

And also I thought I was funny today...

2010-05-20T19:20:00.003+01:00

Bad, bad, baaad tequila

2010-05-20T19:00:00.003+01:00

When you wake up to the sound of a London ambulance and the morning sunshine physically makes it hurt just behind your eyes, that's when you know its bad. When you wake up and walk into the kitchen, only to walk out again because just looking at food was enough to make you want to vomit. When the crowd at Balham station makes you dizzy and having to stand on a packed train even just as far as Clapham Junction makes you nauseous beyond belief. That's when you know it's up there with New Years Day and the morning after graduation. When you finally get to Victoria and find out that you are in fact not supposed to be at uni until 12, which means you couldve slept for another two hours AND the woman at Burger King keeps saying "We do breakfast menu until 11" dispite you pointing out that "You slogan is 'Have it your way', why can't you just make some fries?" with a voice desperate for fast food and a sugary drink, that's when you know the day is a lost cause.

World, this is what I think of you

2010-05-18T11:28:00.003+01:00

Phone stolen, cannot pay bills, cannot call mother, boyfriend or employer, I am officially broke(which is not a good thing when you need to buy a new phone) AND I have seven exams crammed in the first two weeks of June.
(thank you Nash for helping me express this through you)

Who says students only eat Pot Noodles?

2010-05-16T19:52:00.003+01:00

Very generally speaking...

2010-05-15T11:36:00.003+01:00

... there are two types of cocktails bars in London, American and English style.

American style cocktail bars: They are either in posh hotels and staffed with ponsies who believe that the costumer is there for them (and not vice versa) and they take pride in knowing 13 different shaking techniques. OR. They're speed bars a la TGI Friday's, where most drinks are spiced up with sweet-and-sour mix and the frozen strawberry daiquiris sell like naked girls in Soho.

English style cocktail bars: The bartenders who roam this oak are constantly trying to outgeek eachother by coming up with the most outrageous combination of ingredients in their drinks - wierdest drink always wins, and the one who has gone through the most effort (making a glass out of chocolate, home grown spices, steeping herbs in the most unobtainable liquid you can imagine - the list goes on) wins the competition. They take ten minutes to make one of their cocktails and think it's ok.

I love them both. Like a mother loves her child, a lover loves another and like a pregnant woman loves wierd food - like a bartender loves Jägermeister.

Exam reading just isnt my thing

2010-05-14T16:01:00.002+01:00

I am beginning to think that the only way I am going to manage to get through all the reading for my history exam is to devour it. Andrew Marr's My Trade was quite yummy.
Massive breakdown last night which included calling the boyf at work and making noises similar to a distressed camel. It took almost five minutes until he understood who and what was calling. Exam pressure - its serious business.

I don't know why I'm not more embarrassed

2010-05-13T21:40:00.004+01:00

THE NEXT BRITISH BOYBAND - CONNECTED!
Am I a paedo for wanting to marry them all?
They're so adorable! I want to have kids like them.

Too bad that it is highly likely that I will become a career bitch, which means that I wont have time to push my kids in to fame due to my own failed teenage dreams. Was that too judgmental on their "supportive" mothers? Just a thought.

Crucial update!

2010-05-12T14:32:00.003+01:00

The lack of updates is due to the unexpected death of my wireless router, which will hopefully be sorted by the end of this afternoon. Only time can tell..

IN OTHER NEWS
Cleggy is no 2! CamCam is in charge and apart from this short lunch-beer-and-internet break at the pub, I have been glued to SkyNews and BBCNews since last night. I even got up at eight this morning to follow it. I can only imagine the amount of yelling done by editors and all the empty cups of black coffee on news desks all over the country. Aaaahhh...

I am taking over the Universities of Medway student magazine next year, and in the breathing space in between news obsessing, shorthand practice and history studies I am planning for next year's paper. It will be awesome. I hope.
- Watch this space...

Q of the day(asked in a gossip related conversation): What do you wish people said about you?
A: 'Most women in her position are workoholic, power hungry evil bitches, but she is actually quite nice. Fiesty, but nice.'

Fresh from the press conference!

2010-05-07T17:00:00.004+01:00

There is such a thing a bliss. And his name is Jake Gyllenhaal.

More to come when the rest of the pictures are working!

I want to bash people who say gingers are ugly over the head with a Mad Men DVD

2010-05-05T12:05:00.003+01:00

This is what I want to look like. That is perfection. Ever since discovering Christina Hendricks I have seriously contemplated going ginger in a bid to look like her. Jawdropping.

... And then there is fashion journalist Cathy Horyn who said "You don't put a big girl in a big dress. That is rule number one", after seeing Christina attend the Golden Globe Awards in this dress:

Cathy Horyn looks like this:

Jealous much?

Sara Malm - Celebrity reporter!

2010-05-04T13:51:00.003+01:00

Celeb interview no 2! I am set to go to the press screening/press conference of the new Prince of Persia: Sands of Time. It starrs Gemma Arterton who is a local Gravesend girl, and I am set to interview her on fame and fortune far away from her roots. Attending the press thing will be - and I quote: Jake Gyllenhaal, Miss Arterton herself, Sir Ben Kingsley, Mike Newell who directed HP and the Goblet of Fire and Jerry fucking Bruckheimer.

Oh.

My.

God.

And look...

2010-04-30T16:08:00.003+01:00

... what happens when you google Pixie Lott. That's ME!

MY FIRST PUBLISHED ARTICLE!

2010-04-30T15:53:00.003+01:00

My first published article with byline. I am a little bit proud.

HERE

(fuck it, I am a lot proud. probably only triumphed by mummy)

LolCleggz and a weekly report

2010-04-30T11:51:00.010+01:00

One week down at The Kent Messenger Group! So far I have reported on Pixie Lott , the London Marathon, the Election and a single mum who is being maltreated by the council.
Local news is a lot more fun than I expected.

However, might be more cut out to do magazine editing after all. We will see, only the future can tell.

I discovered the funniest election thing so far. Lolcatz ("I can haz cheezburger?") has become LolCleggz! They are brilliant!

pictures are shamelessly nicked from popbitch.com

The Queen and I

2010-04-29T13:03:00.004+01:00

I am going to see the Queen!

No, no, not Lizzie (frankly, I don't think she would enjoy Heaven) but the Queen of Kick-ass Boom-Booming Popelectro Bbbbeats - ROBYN!

I know, my tummy just wont settle.

She is playing at Heaven in June and I've got two of the pre-sale tickets. Yey! I have been a massive fan for as long as I can remember - we are talking me as a five-year old singing 'Do you really want me' at the Daycare Centre. Others have Madonna, Beyonce and even Lady Gaga: I have Robyn as my ultimate female icon. Wow.

Bangkok protesters use children to fight their battle

2010-04-28T13:21:00.004+01:00

Photo: Marcus Wennstam, aftonbladet.se

Swedish newspaper Aftonbladet reports from the violent protests in Bangkok where the government critical 'Red shirts' are preparing to go into acual battle with the military. their strategy? Sending children armed with slingshots to the frontline. Aftonbladet writes(my own translation): "The warriors are made up mostly of boys in their late teens. They wear black clothes and red scarves. But in the front are also children not more than 10 years old. One of the boys are posing proudly with his slingshot. he is wearing a white plastic helmet on his head and a simple mask covering his mouth. Instructed by one of the older boys, he clenches his fist and stares into the camera. His enemies are waiting a couple of hundred metres away. Thousands of soldiers armed with automatic weapons, water canons and tear gas."

Am I the only one who hears "Cambodia, Pol Pot, Khmer Rouge" ringing over and over in my head?

Scandilous Life meets Pixie Lott

2010-04-28T11:48:00.003+01:00

Guess who is off to interview Pixie Lott about her new Lipsy collection this afternoon?

Yes, ME, ME, ME!

I am getting a press pass and everything. My first real press pass. Now this is what it's all about. I'm jumping in my chair and doing 'retard claps' and humming along to Miss Lott's 'Band Aid'

On education

2010-04-27T12:50:00.005+01:00

One thing that amazes me about my adopted home-country is the hatred of good education.

"What did she say?"

Yeah, that's right. "David Cameron went to Eton - what an upper-class twat, we can't have him - and Nick Clegg went to £28k a year Westminster School, he is not in touch with the working classes"

Wtf? Westminster School has the highest acceptance rate at Oxbridge Universities, is that not evidence enough ? (and don't give me that bias crap - I went through the application process for Oxford Uni, and that sort of bias is left behind) And Eton, how exclusive and selective it might be in the end, is jawdropping.

But no, that's no good for the Brits. Why would 'a man of the people' i.e. working class have a better understanding of how to run one of the world's greatest nations that one that has had the best education the country can offer?

It is all beyond me.

Tell me Britons, if you had a choice - would you put your kid through public schools?

I wouldn't.

If I had an extra 28.000 every year per future child I would send them to Westminster School in a hearbeat.

... and also, to Jackie Madden (the woman who so loudly protested against the idea of free schools during Cameron's speach in Romsey yesterday): Of course they will take money from the state schools - the whole point is to give each student a school funding that will go with each student - wherever the child attends. So yes, the state schools will miss out - but only if there is another schools that is better. I went to a free school started by a group of parents who thought the existing local state school was abysmal - creating something better because the opportunity was there. Saying schools will "loose out" because of the competition like saying (in the words of D. Cameron) "Isn't is terrible that the BBC has to compete with ITV?" And invest in a Wonderbra - they were all over the place.

Photo: dailymail.co.uk

The end of an era - pt. 2

2010-04-25T15:25:00.005+01:00

It is the same feeling I had when I left Sweden. I know I am going to something good and exciting, but leaving my loved ones behind is harder than I thought.
I had my last night at LAB/Academy Bar yesterday and bathrobe-clad vikings, ducks and sailors all joined in and made it a good one. Danny set the bar for the evening at the start of shift when he put on my frilly black knickers (don't ask me why he chose to ask ME for extra undies) underneath his Presidents' Club bathrobe. Delightful.
I cried in the end. Loads. I am going to miss it. The bar, my little work family and all the regulars that I have gotten to know. I salute you. Thanks for the Jäger.

A clear sexist mind

2010-04-21T14:01:00.004+01:00

Am I the only one who thought Timbaland's first line in 'If We Ever Meet Again' ft Katy Perry was "Would somebody like you do it in a place like this"?

(oh yeah, he is actually singing "What's somebody like you doing in a place like this")

It's a holiday, let's celebrate!

2010-04-21T10:09:00.004+01:00

Look, look, look! It is still sunny in London! Balham is glistening in the sunshine and I am awake!
The strange thing(or one of them) about Balham is the number of estate agents down the high street, just between the numbers 73 and 154 (about the walk from my house to my fave local pub - i.e. not that far) are 14 estate agents. Mad...

Frightfully dead shift last night, yet still managed to stay alert and energized due to shedloads of espresso and some scandinavian shenanigans.

Wore this one to work - explains all.

The end of an era

2010-04-20T15:54:00.009+01:00

I am bracing myself for my second-to-last shift at LAB tonight. After working for the company for 1,5 years (first bartending at massive FAIL ChelseaBar, then waitressing at legendary LAB, with a short three month stint at Townhouse in Knigthsbridge, before coming back home to Soho where I belong) I am leaving. There will be many many tears, probably even more Jäger. I love LAB and those who have passed thorugh over this year have all become part of my London family.

Me and another scandilous Swede, Victor

Glenn smashes drinks

My big sis and former boss Sarah who is now going to be my boss again at graphic bar

Victor and Danny behind the bar

Ready to rock out another shift

My beloved french croissant Machi and Vix

Photo: Des Yatigammana

(oh yeah, and I've ordered temporary tattoo paper so that I can try out possible tattoos on myself. I promise they will not say 'Ian forever' nor be a butterfly. Stay tuned for news)

"Um, doctor, I need you to get this off my penis. I don't know how it got there I SWEAR!"

2010-04-20T15:29:00.003+01:00

This is the Rape-Axe. Bascally a female condom with little 'shark teeth' on the inside. Rape-Axe goes inside vagina. Braindead jerk decides to rape girl with Rape-Axe. Penis goes in Rape-Axe but does not come out. The Rape-Axe 'bites' back and has to be surgically removed from the guy's penis. You see the little teeth in the picture? Yeah, they latch on and cause extreme pain.
Hell yeah.
And also, it effectively makes rapists hand themselves in. If they do want the Rape-Axe gone from said genital - they need to go to the hospital.

I think it is brilliant. However, both boyfriend and my flatmate, after they stopped ooh-ing and ouch-ing, pointed out that it could very possibly turn into a weapon against a cheating partner and how that would ruin the purpose of this rape protection device. I say, if you've cheated, you deserve the biting condom.

Truly a frabjous day

2010-04-18T14:19:00.003+01:00

Okey chicks and chickpeas, before I ladidida out into the glorious sunlight in my flowery playsuit and the fake Chanel's, can I just say : HELL YEAH NICKY BOY! Go Clegg! Let's hear it; Liiiiiiiiib DEM!

Toodles!

I'M ALIVE!

2010-04-15T18:01:00.002+01:00

I have just come out at the better end of my second-worst near death experience (the first being when I was in the Costa Rican rainforest on the back of a cantering horse and all of a sudden night falls, and its pitch black within fifteen minutes). Hot Bikram Yoga.

Five minutes in and I thought I was going to die. As flexible as an 85-year old and about as toned as the Muffin Man, it was pain, pain, pain. Now, 90 minutes after the class finished, I think I might go again tomorrow. I must be part sadist.

I research better than the researcher

2010-04-14T08:54:00.004+01:00

I am deeply immensed in articles about gender equality/gender theories regarding South Africa as a research for my Guardian International Developement Journalism Competition piece. They're written by my brilliant cousin Johanna who is on her way to start her PhD Candidate in International Developement Relations (or something even more complicated) in Roskilde, Denmark this autumn. She's quite good at what she does.

It is needed to go through tons and tons of research for this, and my brain is working feverishly. I better save this for the journey home and take a shower and get my arse into gear. I am, after all, going shopping this afternoon. Mantra: "I don't need new shoes, I don't need new shoes, I don't need new shoes, I don't need new shoes, I don't need new shoes."

... aaaand our reporter Sara Malm reports from Stockholm

2010-04-12T12:31:00.004+01:00

Finally climbed out from underneath the rock I have been hiding. Jeez...

Friday morning: 17 degrees in London, and I'm out in my tish and sunglasses (fake chanel, very nice), high-kicking and jumping all the way out to Stanstead Airport. The plane took off. Despite the XXL woman next to me not understanding that you sit down on airplanes, which automatically led to me having her gigantous arse in my face the whole two hours, my tummy was full of butterflies - I was on my way back to where it all started. Sweden.
And I landed... in Mordor. 6 degrees, pissing down with rain and still patches of snow on the ground. Joy.

Now; going to the chiropractor to sort out my back and, what is hopefully, the last remains of my accident a year ago when I was hit by a black cabbie.

Apart from that: Why is it impossible for me to get to ANY pre-election polls over here? It is like I am in a political vacuum! My part-Brit soul needs to know!

The fight for a London HIV/AIDS Memorial

2010-03-23T21:11:00.004Z

I am currently working on a piece about the struggle to get an HIV/AIDS memorial in London. Why it is not already there is beyond me - especially now that new figures have come out that this is the leading cause for death and disease amongst women aged 15-49 in the world.

Like my dear Maxime said, whom I am interviewing for this article "It's not just a bunch of gay guys fucking in a corner spreading the disease".

London needs a memorial for HIV/AIDS, preferrably in time for World Gay Pride 2012...

The sweet little lie about the Pornstar Martini

2010-03-22T11:45:00.004Z

We are learning how to make flash slideshows in Convergent Journalism. My dear friend Harri made one on me and my short career as a bartender. In it I claim to love shaking up Pornstar Martinis and Margaritas.

That is a lie. I hate making those goddamned passionfruity sugarbombs. I just like to say it. Pornstar. Poooornstar...

Where Margaritas came from I do not know...

The hamster is asleep in the wheel

2010-03-21T20:11:00.004Z

Something has somehow drained me of every last drop of energy I had. I can't be my university degree because, to be honest, I could be doing more. And it can't possibly be work because I have only worked one day this week.
I can't be bothered with anything anymore. It is a complete and utter disgrace.
Look at that picture. That is how motivated I am right now. With everything.
Reporting essay and the prospect of cleaning up after cooking food seems to equal an 18 hour marathon sex session in a sauna on Mt Everest.

Analysing

2010-03-21T20:11:00.001Z

“One of the greatest things about university is that you actually can have a life outside it.” That is what my father told me today . If any of my classmates at the CfJ had heard it they would have protested. Loudly.

But not me.´

I don’t have a life outside of uni most of the time since whenever I am not on the couch researching or writing I am simply passed out looking lobotomised and watching something completely uneducating just to let my head rest for a while. But. BIG but (one t, not two), I also manage to;
- work 1-3 days a week (I hate borrowing money from my parents, hence I work)
- ummmm…

Oh wait, never mind. That was it.
I guess I don’t have a life outside uni after all.
Bugger.

Why does journalism exist?

2010-03-20T04:36:00.003Z

.. according to Miss Sara Malm, September 2009

After spending half the night pondering biased and non-biased journalism, I started to question the purpose of my chosen career, like many times before.
Every time I doubt, or even consider that this might not be "it" for me, I re-read an short piece I wrote when I started the course, answering the question; what is journalism for?
I had just started at the Centre for Journalism, and knew nothing. But still.
The Scandi girl with all the ideals had a point, and I hope that I still do.
Anyway.
Here it goes... Read and weep.

Journalism exists in order to find and inform. To me that is the simple and sterile answer, and I shall below explain why.
In society today there is so much going on and constantly so much information that one simply cannot take it all in. As a journalist you get to choose what information people are going to read and find important. Through various more or less professional news reporting devices, and not to forget the blogs, twitter accounts and pod casts, people are constantly fed information daily. It is up to journalists to be the sieve covering society trying to sort the stories that will matter from everyday blabber.
As a journalist you are responsible for the way that society will judge a situation. You are in charge of what the masses are going to think, even if they do not believe it to be so. People are easier to affect than most of us dares to admit. Whatever is on the front page is what people automatically will assume is an important story and the perception that they gain will affect their decisions and opinions. It is up to you as a journalist to track down that number one story every day to let the masses know what is going on in the world and what is worth noticing.
Without journalists reporting and sharing the news everything would eventually either start to move backwards or become a veritable chicken coop where only the cocks that can cuckoo the loudest will be heard even though they might not have the most important things to say - they might even be lying. If there is not one little chick discovering the truth then what will the chickens think is right?

Journalism is also for seeking and finding. There are millions if not billions of events every day that does not get twittered about. The six year old Afghani girl that can not get to school because she has lost her leg stepping on a land mine, for example. Why is no one helping her? Where is the support supposed to come from? Was this landmine a product of the ongoing war or are there still old Soviet landmines out there on the country roads on the outskirts of Kabul? So many questions that needs to be asked to so many.
Imagine that we were able to plunge deep into the mind of every single human being on this planet. To be able to go through approximately 75 years worth of memories and stories at the end of everybody‘s life. I believe that there is at least one story in every person that needs, or in this case would have needed, to be told.
Journalism exists not only because of the reason stated above, i.e. in relation to daily news reporting, but also in order to try to discover these stories and ask the right questions. Journalism is for finding and informing, and it is a great responsibility.

Keepin it in the family

2010-03-16T11:23:00.006Z

Keith Cederholm, the father of a woman who was imprisoned at 18 for attempted murder and a nazi who murdered at 16 and later killed himself, spoke today to Sweden's biggest tab Aftonbladet as the hunt for Mr Cederholm's nephew, convicted at 17 for a double murder and now accused of kidnapping, continues.

Mr Cederholm said:

"No one can blame me for my children and other relatives becoming criminals. I didn't bring them up - I've mostly been in prison."

I don't even need to comment on that.

All I'm saying is ...

2010-03-14T20:05:00.003Z

Whilst struggling to get the last 600 words down to my politics essay can I just say -
I miss middle school.
I want to have Sex Ed again and put condoms on bananas.
That's all.

The council lady says "sorry"

2010-03-11T18:19:00.002Z

Let's give her a cookie and a pat on the head. After all, she says it wont happen again.

All those lovely people responsible for protecting the two victims of "Britain's Fritzl" have spoken. They are, as expected, full of remorse but states, as Social Services always do in these situations, that they have learned a lesson. Social Services always have whenever the shit hits the fan. Haringey Social Services say that they have benefited from the experience of the Baby P case and that they are working to make sure that it will never happen again. I'm sure that makes such a difference for little Baby P - oh no, wait, he's dead due to your neglect!

No wonder councils have to go to the states to search for social workers...

R.I.P. my internet nicks

2010-03-11T11:36:00.003Z

This is an obituary. I am sitting in Convergent class pondering over our new Online Journalism task and remembering and remeniscing the good old days before everyone used their real names for social networking. The likes of LunarStorm and PlayAhead ruled Swedish teens and Msn Messenger was where it all happened, long before Facebook Chat.

Freestylergirl was my first internet name, on LunarStorm (a Scandi online community). Then along came saariiseen (my bessie mate Hanna had haanniiseen - it obviously made sense...), TooSpecial(I'm sorry, what? Was I trying to be different? As if being chubby and nerdy wasn't enough?) and the more logical SaraM.
I've always been a big hotmail fan. splatt6589 is the first one I can remember, then lillen3000 which translated means thelittleone3000. Imaginative, huh? But then that was too nerdy (oh, yeah like changing your hotmail would make you cooler) and I became aikflickan_sara@hotmail.com, meaning that I was an AIK girl (AIK being a swedish sports club). I have always hated sports and was simply pretending in order to impress the guy I fancied. Then again trying to be different with pineapple__fairy@hotmail.com. I wrote a song with that title. I was "artistic". Sure.
Luckily I grew up in the end. Phew. I mean, my full name and @hotmail.com makes a lot more sense. And is a lot less embarrassing.

And I am a big disappointment

2010-03-08T21:14:00.005Z

... again!

Maybe I am only having this feeling because I voluntarily lock myself in with 25 (all depending on how many of them get out of bed) wannabe journalists, or maybe I am right.

It feels like everyone but me is insanely ambitious and is achieving marvellousness right, left and centre, whilst I am stuck in the back snoring my way through another politics seminar.

But when, I ask you, WHEN am I suppose to have the time? Between working 30 hours a week (oh yes all swedish readers, what you people call full time is a piece of piss), a full time university degree, sometimes having a social life, never sleeping enough, naked Sundays, cooking, cleaning, comsuming news, drinking a bit more than moderately in pure despair and watching Mock the Week?

Nighttime thoughts

2010-03-04T03:53:00.004Z

Yeah. I did it. About ten minutes ago I woke up and I can't seem to fall asleep again. Shame as I need to get up in about three hours. Anyways. Being awake at the early hours of the morning always make me ponder, and I guess that's not particularly unique.

Tonight (or last night depending on ones view on time) I was introduced to the Director General of the BBC. I knew it was going to happen and I didn't realise the massive-ness of this event until last Saturday when I was serving cocktails to an old BBC journalist at LAB. His awe slapped me straight into reality. The opportunities I get and how I appreciate them. When I told him who teaches me the art or great journalism he was astonished and I thought back to the day when my mother called me from Sweden and told me I had been accepted to the Centre for Journalism. I cried.

I have all the right tools to become a really good journalist and I need to use them more than I do.

Shorthand what?!

Really gone to LaLa Land

2010-03-03T00:12:00.003Z

Am I the only one who almost always in some way or form believes that what happens to a movie character will happen to me as well?

I mean, I don't worry about an "Atonement-situation" happening to me and the boyfriend anytime soon (the guy writes a love letter including words like the one with a C and gives it to the girl's little sister to pass it on and the lil sis reads it. First of all he would never write me a love letter and have my sister pass it on to me, it would be a terrible waste of time as my sister lives in Sweden and I share sleeping quarters with the man in question and secondly if he did do that, he would never use the C-word. What a complete lack of imagination. ) but I have discovered that I am prone to numerous versions of movie induced panics.

Tonight, after watching "Did you hear about the Morgans?" I started to panic thinking that I am infertile (I know, completely normal for a 19-year old). I still have a fear of clear iceblue waters after watching Titanic about ten years ago and can therefore not dive in tropical oceans and swimming pools as I firmly believe I will drown. Strangely dark waters work fine. Always the same thing, Izzy gets cancer on Grey's Anatomy - I am going to get cancer. People are held hostage at the bank - I am sure I will be held hostage at some point in my life.

I am very grateful that this little disorder has not stretched as far as Harry Potter. Then I'd really be in trouble...

They should put warnings up for people like me...
"Warning, may cause delusions of the infertility related kind and beliefs that a trip to the country side will save your relationship. It wont. Unless your hubbie really ís Hugh Grant, then we don't understand what the problem is."

If this place asked me to marry it - I would

2010-03-02T16:42:00.003Z

God I love Balham.
Not only do I have Sainsburys AND Waitrose less than 30 seconds from my doorstep - there is a Maccy D's, four very good pubs, Starbucks and B@1 . I have to walk about 3 minuter to Burger King. I find it almost insulting. I could get very fat very easily If I continue to stay here...

Managed to spend all my tips from last night on a cabbie which I am very much regretting now as I really feel like spending £20 on Dorritos and fizzy sweets.

IFHM

2010-02-22T11:55:00.003Z

After a weekend cuddling and cooing with the boyf's new nephew (seriously cute - I got all broody and "can I have one please?" until he pooped and started crying) up in Manc Land reality decided to hit. Televised news is just not my cuppa and I have an assessment for Friday. And Politics thingy for Thursday. And more Politics reading. And Reporting exam on Tuesday. And Shorthand Mock Exam next week. And... no, that was it. But still.

When am I going to have time to whinge?!

Stay in school kids

2010-02-18T14:58:00.002Z

On the train back to London and the Gatwick Express drives past covered in advertising for Emirates Air.
Chav 1: "Oh, is that the Arsenal train?"
Chav 2: *reads* Take the train to... China. I did'n know you could take the train to China?"
Chav 1: "Yeah, you can take the train everywhere, like, you can take the train to Germany now."

may inbreeding make them extinct

And they say romance is dead

2010-02-16T12:20:00.003Z

"You've lost weight. Here *points* and here, and here *points more*.

I think you looked better before."

Guys, I've struck gold...

My Career - a quite possible future

2010-02-16T09:14:00.009Z

My professional progress...

22 years old: Newly graduated from the CfJ. Probably slaving away at a daily doing the night shift. Commenting fiercly on life in my blog whining about society, bars, boyfriends and woman issues ehilst smoking a few cigarettes and drinking coffee.

25+: Writing feature and life stories for the Independent and/or mags. Writing comment pieces (for The Independent) where I analyze important issues such as society, bars, boyfriends, and woman-whyamialwayshungoveratworkandwhyiseveryonearoundmegettingengaged-issues whilst smoking 10 cigarettes a day drinking 2 gallons of coffee.

30+: Editor of a womans lifestyle magazine, whining in my editor's column about high heel bunions, society, bars, married life, and woman-ohmygodwhyismybiologicalclocktickingsofuckingloudly-issues whilst smoking a pack of ciggies a day and drinking nothing but triple espresso's.

35+: Probably editor of Mama magazine or similar, whining in my editor's column about my child birth experiences, how I never go out anymore, how all the famous hunks all of a sudden are younger than me and in particular constantly emphasizing how amazing I am to be a working mother in a way which makes it sound like no one has never done it before whilst drinking herbal tea and kiwi smoothies and quietly cursing quitting smoking and coffee.

40 and onwards: Editor of The Independent. Nirvana is reached.

Hrm

2010-02-15T09:52:00.002Z

"So, what did your boyfriend get you for Valentine's?"

"Three grams of coke and a bottle of Champagne."

How a such simple thing as a boy can change an attitude

2010-02-14T17:33:00.003Z

Sara 0-19 years: I HATE VALENTINE'S DAY! Fekkin American commercial crap! Awful!

Sara 19,5 years: I love Valentine's Day!

Welcome tragedies and disasters!

2010-02-11T16:45:00.003Z

Wow, this is shaping up to be a pretty shit day. It all started at 06:55 with no clean black tights. Moving on, all trains down to Gillingham were severly delayed or cancelled due to half-an-inch of snow in south-east Kent. Joy. 45 minutes late to uni, where I realised that I have a radio news day tomorrow, which will make me 3 hours late for work, which will piss off my boss and my team, which will result in a pretty bad start to my weekend. After spending almost an hour after class trying to make my borrowed camera kit work I was finally off towards the train station. Not only do I see the train leave the station - I was left on the platform for almost one hour due to the further delays and locistical skills of the penismunchers at Southestern Rail Services. Finally I get home to be informed that Alexander McQueen has taken his life AND that there are no potatoes left.

I need a drink.

Why Am I Not Allowed To Say I Want Kids?

2010-02-11T10:16:00.002Z

When the phrase 'I want kids', or variations of it, comes out of my mouth it is mostly followed by reactions of 'You can't say that, you're only nineteen!' and 'Yeah, sure, you say that now!'
Just because I am a nineteen year old student (and not a nineteen year old chavvie without a future) people assume that my greatest joys in life is downing pints of snakebite and making PotNoodles. Not really. They also assume that simply because I want them I am aiming for pregnancy ASAP. No way.
It is the wish you are not supposed to have before 25. It is the phrase not supposed to be uttered before you are 30. Sigh. People...

P.S. Dear Boyfriend. There is no reason to be alarmed. You're safe for at least another six-seven years minimum... D.S.

YES! - three days late

2010-02-01T20:03:00.005Z

"There is not much that can beat this feeling.

I am through to the final round of the big fight for the Bob Friend Memorial Scholarship, in which the winner can proudly brag about £3500 and a month long work placement at Sky News. I am surpried to say the least but the joyful tears and screams over the phone to family and friends says it all. Compeating against such admirable people as Melanie Wimmer and Daniel May (the man behind incredibly funny blog YouMayBeEntertained) is making this war quite pleasant. "

- I wrote this blog on Monday night intending to publish it later that same evening. However alcohol interfeared and it ended up in my unpublished posts. I am putting it out now, even though I did not win, because goddamnit I am proud of what I did. My beloved mami even more I guess.
I am also lucky in a way because I lost out to Danny boy, who blatantly deserved it more than I did. He just knows his shit. And he's gonna buy me shoes as a consolation prize.

Parenthood-ism

2010-01-30T12:21:00.003Z

You can't help thinking about the future sometimes and when it comes to myself, things like jobs, houses, wedding dresses and kids wander through my head on a daily basis. I'm very big on the daydreaming. I wonder how and when I am going to have children, what I'm going to call them (had a discussion about this the other night - what the fuck is wrong with James and Lucy!?) and what they are going to look like (in this case I'm particularly worried that they are going to get all my curses, such as the chubbiness, the humongous calves and the boring hair).

Anyway.

Last night I dreamt that I was heavily preggers. It felt a bit wierd - sort of like a loaf of bread around my ovary area and a little bit like I needed to do a number two. Scary. Very scary.
Due to things like money, maturity and general behaviour I'm quite sure that it is going to be a good few years before I start popping kids through my veejayjay. Or at least I hope so, because I have a feeling that if I had one, I'd loose it.

I hate to say it but Bin Laden's got a point

2010-01-30T12:04:00.002Z

In his latest video, broadcasted on Al-Jazeera yesterday, terrorleader Usama Bin Laden surprisingly speaks out against global warming. He blames the US (however, not so surprising) and their control of the world economy for the ruin of our climate and encouraged a boycott of all things American.

I'm not a big fan of the guy, really really not, but when he blames Dubya for stalling the process by not signing the Kyoto protocol, he is not completely out of order. Because; if Georgie had signed it, is it not possible that the Copenhagen meeting might have had a better outcome(As the US did NOTHING as usual - sorry Obama, you know I love you dude, but you just don't deserve that Peace Prize)?

You can take the girl out of Soho...

2010-01-30T11:50:00.003Z

... but you can't take Soho out of the girl!

There is no way of explaining how much I frikkin love my job. I'm back at LAB again, at least for a while and dear lord it feels good! Payday Friday after Christmas and I hadn't carried a tray for over two months. My muscles are still aching (you want toned arms? start carrying a tray full of cocktails over your head for eight hours straight - that'll do it, believe me!) and my feet are sore but the worst pain is in my stomach for laughing my bum-bum off all night. I've missed my boys and girls.

The LAB team giving Gill a send-off last summer

Quote of the night (add scottish accent for full effect):
"I watch a lot of strap-on porn"

Happy weekend everyone!

2010-01-29T15:34:00.003Z

Last night was spent roamin around London's East End trying to forget the fact that I am getting nowhere with my scholarship application (and throwing up outside the Hoxton Hotel at around midnight if I am not mistaken). Not exactly the best way to deal with the problem, but at least the drinks were nice.

The subs at The Independent clearly had a few last night as well - The dead socialite was surely not 72, but 27 and people and things from my home land are Swedish not Sweidsh. Jeeez...

On the subject of Peaches

2010-01-27T12:27:00.004Z

Here we go: someone who's not got the body or likeability of northern saint Cheryl soddin Cole gets her kit off and the slagging match begins!

Give Peaches some credit.Indeed, she is not exactly something out of the skinny Bible, nor has she the best reputation (keep in mind this is the daughter of Paula Yates, people!). But - it's actually not that bad. And at least she's doing something other than falling out of nightclubs with powdered nostrils.

Surprisingly, as with all events like this one - it's the girls who are the quickest to throw stones at her. We are all such jealous bitches arent we?

look, look, look you can almost see a teeny tiny hint of something on her belly. yeey, go normal girl!

Oh come on, seriously!?

2010-01-26T19:32:00.002Z

Yes. I know. I suck. But there was moving, and then not moving and being a drama queen and Sweden and Christmas and Cambodia and Manchester and moving for real and starting uni and... well a thousand other reasons really. But yes, I am aware of the fact that I have not exactly been nurturing my writing skills for quite some time now. Bad, bad, bad.
But hey, what can ya do, you all have to accept things. For example; I accept that I can no longer fit perfectly into a size 10 and that I will not get to 80 wpm in shorthand without practicing. I also accept that I will never marry neither Danny Jones nor Johnny Depp, however reluctantly I do do that.
So I guess all I can say is... sorry?

Time to start saving for my pension perhaps?

2009-12-03T10:18:00.004Z

I have turned into a 35-year old. I don't know how it happened or when, but last night I saw proof of it.

It all began with a phone call. 10 pm on a Wednesday night and it was fancy dress night down at the student pub. They asked me where I was and I repied something along the lines of "Well, it's late and I'm tired and Im already in bed, and I've got this movie and..."
- as if that was not enough:
The neighbours were having a house party, that was quite clear. And not only were they having a house party - they were playing bad loud music (think terrible 3rd class reggaeton) at 12 am! So I called security on them
- I have turned into a 35-year old.

There is a special place in hell...

2009-12-02T09:27:00.008Z

My deep loathing for Daily Mail's columnists shall clearly never falter as they have given me another gem today in the form of Bel Mooney.
Ms Mooney claims that the 60's sexual revolution is to blame for, if not all, but most that is wrong with society today. It is "wrecking women's lives today". Here are some of the best of the best of her rantings:

"People have always had sex before marriage" Oh horrible thought...

"Ladette behaviour is a direct result of the freedom women fought for"
SAY WHAT?! Since when is there a connection between drunken women behaving badly (let's take that part of ladetteness for example) a result of feminism?

"The university Student Health Centre handed out the Pill like sweeties. So you wouldn't get pregnant - good. But at the same time you had no reason to be careful - bad."
I have said it before and I say it again - you live in a country where 13-year olds have babies! Why on earth would you preach against the Pill, this country needs more Pills not less!

“Sex, which in previous eras was private (even taboo), became public, with the result that women were expected - in their love lives - to demonstrate the expertise of prostitutes. Except these 'liberated' women gave it away for free. “
Who expects this Ms Mooney? Your partner? THEN LEAVE HIM. Mine sure doesn’t and I don’t know any man who does. And secondly, so talking about sex, making it no longer taboo, has turned us all into prossies in the eyes of men? So it was better when sex was something bad, hush hush and first and foremost no fun ? If you want to regard sex as private you might as well regard eating equally taboo - they are both part of human life and our needs.

“Is it any wonder that the phenomenon of young teenage boys expecting their girlfriends to provide sexual gratification at any time (on a school bus, for example, according to Susie Orbach) leaves girls feeling abused and full of hate for their bodies"
Now we’re really, really not on the same page anymore, so what you are saying, Ms Mooney is that young girls disliking their bodies is a modern day phenomenon unheard of before the 60’s? And that the female sexual revolution is to blame? She is getting lost in her own arguments blubbering things that has nothing to do with women freeing themselves in the 60’s.

Read this sad excuse for journalism here

You can call me Miss Puffy Face

2009-12-01T11:43:00.001Z

Women with acute PMS should not watch Atonement, it's like giving a suicidal teenager a pair of razor blades/a fat kid the keys to the Cadbury factory/Lindsay Lohan cocaine

mwah >.<

2009-11-29T12:53:00.001Z

So that's why I'm so smart...

2009-11-27T08:42:00.003Z

... oh wait, they said moderate, right?

"[...] But contrary to popular belief moderate drinking can actually promote better thinking and reasoning skills according to recent scientific research."

I love The Independent

I don't sound like that!

2009-11-26T16:41:00.002Z

THAT IS PREPOSTEROUS!
(i have no time for blogging. am very important and busy person. and a lazybum)

Come over to Townhouse and watch Mitchell and Malm rock it out!

2009-11-24T10:59:00.002Z

Don't be shy, I know you want to.

There will be vanilla sugar! And passion fruit! and perhaps a little bit of Jaeger...

Sara Malm is a fan of

TownhouseUK

Create your Fan Badge

Ego quotes and This is now a pregnancy blog

2009-11-21T15:54:00.003Z

I must say I have my moments - at least last night I had a few. Enjoy...

My dearest Al, now managing B@1 Balham has walked past the lovely Lauren earlier and ignored her. My reaction to the situation:
"Its fine, don't take it personally, we all know Al doesnt function before his first Jaeger." (I actually got a high-five for that one)
Stomachpain and regretting the alcohol intake:
"When I die and they do the autopsy they are gonna take out my liver and go: hey, why is there a stag imprinted on this?"
And on those who work in bars:
"You know how you always blame the alcohol for doing stupid things when you are drunk - the problem with people in this industry is that we are always drunk so when people meet us sober - they think we're ill or something"

By the way...
Pregnancy blogs are in the rise AGAIN, especially teenage preggers blogs. Maybe it's time to turn this one in to a teenage pregnancy blog. I do believe I am pregnant. With steak, mash and bearnaise sauce...

You know what they say, The heart never lies

2009-11-19T09:01:00.002Z

Consume more alcohol than what is considered healthy and reduce the risk of heart problems? Well, at least according to The Independent.

Bartenders all over the world; sing and rejoice
Chavvies; swing thy VKD
Students; raise thy snakebites
I will sip my TOZ Rum in peace

"The results showed that those who drank a little – a glass of wine or a bottle of beer every other day – had a 35 per cent lower risk of a heart attack than those who never drank. Moderate drinkers, consuming up to a couple of glasses of wine a day or a couple of pints of ordinary bitter, had a 54 per cent lower risk.
The surprise was that heavy drinkers consuming up to a bottle of wine or six pints of ordinary bitter had a similar 50 per cent reduction in risk of a heart attack to moderate drinkers. Those drinking at even higher levels were still half as likely to suffer a heart attack as the teetotallers." (The Independent)

A little bit of fever is probably worth it

2009-11-18T08:33:00.006Z

Half of the people in the UK offered a swine flu jab is turning it down. They are afraid of the possible side-effects and it is a common belief that the virus is "mild" anyway - so no jab needed. (Press Association) I have a whole bunch of friends back home in the Motherland (where everyone gets a jab btw! Not just preggies, coffindodgers and little children.) who has or are planning to turn down the jab for the same reason, predominantly because they are a bit shaky about the side effects of the swine flu jab.
Due to many travels to countries far and wide I have taken more than a handful of jabs in my realtively short life and I can tell this much: there is nothing special about these alledged side effects. Pain in the arm and possible fever and illness for up to a week is nothing new, it comes with pretty much every major jab - so considering what you could go thorugh if you are hit with bad swine flu, a few days feeling rough is nothing.

Don't look at the needle and think something pretty: like butterflies or Danny Jones, and it will be over in seconds.

Far far away on the horison is a little bit nearer than yesterday

2009-11-17T22:27:00.002Z

A little bit closer to the stars. If I perform, exceed and excel (particularly during April's work experience) I might get to go to the Independent for work experience after year 2. A tiny sliver of hope amidst all this darkness and a foot up my bum to get me to work harder. When I found out that there was this chance it was like childhood christmases, Bowmore 25 yr and front row at Mcfly concerts all over again at the same time. Let's effin do it.
Finally started sipping on my TOZ WhiteGold rum. Nice little nightcap.

Now: Jon Snow and Channel 4 news

Looking back on the weekend

2009-11-16T21:37:00.003Z

A journalism student celebrates Friday. What do normal people do on the weekend?

Student journalism, live births and a woman deserving a slap

2009-11-13T17:17:00.005Z

1. If you have the possibility - go and grab the new edition of UMMM.. magazine, Medway campus' student mag (and obviously read my article about international students).

2. Live streamed birth? No thank you! Keep your beef-bush to yourself young lady! If I want to induce nightmares by watching things being born in a monstrous way - I'll rent Alien. Read The Telegraph's Lucy Jones' exchellente columnon the matter here

3. Head of an All Girls School and president of the Girls' Schools Association (GSA) Jill Berry is speaking out in The Independent trying to calm all young women down stating that we shouldn't expect to "have-it-all" because it probably wont happen. Quoting the article "Mrs Berry said that girls should "stop beating themselves up" if they cannot juggle a career with being a wife and mother at the same time.". First of all: Sod off. You are a role model for young girls and you need to tell them that they can achieve whatever they set their minds to. "There is a special place in hell for women who do not help other women" - Madeleine K. Albright (I have quoted her before and I will happily do it again).
And secondly: In that case, what is the defenition of "having it all"? Does having a career and working hard by default mean that you are doing it to get "a flash sports car with a baby seat in the back". It seems like people who are commenting on the "having-it-all"-syndrome think that career bitches also juggling motherhood does it all for the money.
I am going to be a journalist career bitch - what money?

Sorting out the facts

2009-11-10T23:27:00.003Z

Thank you Channel 4,

now we can make this perfectly clear once and for all.

Just because you are against the ongoing war it does not mean that you are unwilling to support the troops nor anyone who has ever fought for Britain.

Brain does not compute. I am a diagnosed stressoholic.

2009-11-10T21:08:00.004Z

It seems my brain has joined the rest of the world and hit recession. Perhaps last week topped off with the weekend made it hand in its resignation. Cannot read. Cannot write. Cannot understand. I can barely read about the Spanish Civil War in Swedish!

Most of this stress comes from my lecturers (whom I really really do admire most days, don't get me wrong here) who keeps telling us first years that we, pardon mon francais, suck.
We have not achieved this goal, we have not understood this theory, our work has major flaws (this most always at some point include how maaaaaarvellous the second years were last year compared to us).
What particularly stresses me to the point where I just want to get into foetal position and rock back and forth whilst mumbling "Medway has 55 councillors, Beaverbrooke, Northcliffe and Rothermere, newspaper circulation in 1939 10.6 million, don't forget the f-blends, don't forget the f-blends, Beaverbrooke, Northcliffe and Rothermere " is this: They are grumbling at all of us and I don't know whether I am included in the loser bunch or not.
Obviously (yes it is as clear as day to me) they can't speak to us individually and I do agree that we all need a kick in the butt from day to day to get some motivation but:

All I seem to hear is how bad I am.

How I am never up to scratch.

And whether I actually am or if it is just a minority of my class is not important.

I am still a target.

I can't say I made a million working as a cocktail waitress but at least my boss told me I had done a good job when I worked my ass off whether my tips was £60 or £6.

(my best friends are moving to South Africa tomorrow and I don't even have time to go and see them off at Heathrow. I am a bit fragile at the moment)

Post entitled This is not a joke or God I love my flatmates

2009-11-05T00:54:00.006Z

Yes indeed this is what I wore tonight whilst writing a large part of my History of Journalism Essay because my flatmates were:

1. Having sexual intercourse of some sort

2. Listening to loud music

I took the devices out as I finished off the essay a mere 30 minutes ago and alas! Both the humping and the terrible excuse for Rn'B was gone. Who said pens were for writing only?

In other news...

Two of my best friends are leaving the country very soonish and the terrible state that I am in has not been helped by the horrendous amount of work I have been given. Had my first official breakdown today crying in the toilets adjecent to Centre for Journalism. Good day on the whole as I found the last of the presents for above mentioned friends. I am an excellent present finder...

BYE!

2009-10-29T18:55:00.003Z

The blogowner (well technically Google owns my blog, but still) is going away.
A short stint in London to see my family and then Prague til Monday.

So unless I find a computer and have the time(and frankly can be arsed) there will be no blogging for a few days.

I'll be back on Tuesday.

Peace, Love and Jägermeister.

Al-Qaida planning to attack Denmark and Danish Newspaper

2009-10-27T23:07:00.007Z

Two men from Chicago are accused of planning to attack Denmark on behalf of the Al-Qaida

The plan was called "Project Mickey Mouse" and their target was the newspaper The Jylland Post who famously posted a satirical cartoon of Muhammed in 2005. They were going to attack the newspaper with bombs and we're hoping to get to the editor who authorised the publication of the cartoon and multiple times publicly defended his decision.

What I am thinking is - If Al-Qaida are so eager to punish those whom they believe act against Islam, why don't they do us all a favour and start looking for a guy that actually hates the religion that they claim to be defending. Nick Griffin can't be that hard to find. Maybe they can call this plan "Quasimodo". They'll know exactly who they're looking for when they see him.

Very homesick

2009-10-27T18:59:00.003Z

I used to be a little girl stuck in Sweden dreaming of the big world out there. One day I was going to get there. At eighteen I moved to London. Dream come true.
Now I am stuck in a broom cupboard in Gillingham, looking out my window at the faint lights of Pier Road, wishing exactly the same thing. One day, I am going to get out of here. Hopefully soon enough.
I am now paying 400 a month for my little nest with about 24 a week travelling to and fro London, A monthly travelcard to London is £284. If I find a room in London for £ 200 my life is sorted.
Any offers?

Buried six feet deep in excrements

2009-10-26T21:14:00.004Z

I am so, so, so deep in the poo.
My parents are visiting from Sweden this week arriving on Wednesday. I usually finish by 12 and can run to the train station asap. On Wednesday the editor of the Independent is coming to speak to us.
Mummy, Daddy and Little Sis I love you so much, but there is no way in hell that I am giving that up. It's like an Essex girl meeting Katie Price.
That is Poo no 1. Poo no 2:
On Friday, when I also normally finish at 12, I have Radio News Day. My team of 8 people needs to produce a half hour news bulletin. Last year they were in the newsroom til six in the evening.

I kid you not - there is a tobacco pouch, a packet of Cadbury's KOKO and a bottle of Tequila with my name on them.

Aaaw, poor Nickyboy

2009-10-24T16:29:00.003+01:00

Nick Griffin, leader of the BNP for the uninformed, is going to file an official complaint to the BBC following his treatment at this Thursday's Question time. He feels he was a victim of a lynch mob. And the little boy went crying all the way home to Auntie Beeb. The fact that it might upset a large part of the population that he is an antisemitic homo- and islamophobic racist clearly came as a surprise for him...

This coming from a man who on his first date with his wife gave her a BNP audiotape with the title 'Islam: A threat to us all'.
He's such a charmer.

LIVE COMMENT ON NICK GRIFFIN ON QUESTION TIME:

2009-10-22T23:31:00.003+01:00

"I do not believe in the teaching of homosexuality to primary school children "
I don't know what you call them over here but in Sweden we call them wankers.
He also does not believe in any form of sexual information to primary school children
Nick Griffin, you live in a country where 13-year olds have babies. Enough said.

To be honest, Nick Griffin, I don't believe in the teaching of you to primary school kids. I'd just show them your picture and tell them to run from the Boogeyman...