Fake Journalism

Age. Not for the faint hearted

2010-01-25T16:48:00.000Z

It is January. This can mean only two things. I am older and I am older.

No seriously. A first of January birthday is possibly the most depressing day of the year to have a birthday (pay no attention to the Christmas Day crew, they're just upset about having to share the attention with everyone else).

First of all. Everything is shut. Until very recently even the pubs were shut on New Year day and even if you did manage to find an open one, try finding a friend without a hangover on the first is no mean feat.

Second is the part most people who are dissatisfied with their lives find. Namely the insistence of the media to really push that 'more time has passed.' Watching smug Myleene smug bitch Klass chirruping: 'a DECADE has passed. The first DECADE of the millennium is OVER,' doesn't make me feel great about myself but then I guess my career hasn't yet been launched by the power of a white bikini and a disarming smile. Maybe she is genuinely excited about 2010?

Thirdly. Third is the killer. You know if you sat on Jan 1st thinking about how very little you had achieved in the year before? Right now imagine that you have to tell people you are a year older that very day. Not 6 months between 'oh weren't the noughties unproductive' and a June 'oh good god I'm nearly 30' birthday. No that very day. It's not a subtle feeling.

Worse, I can only imagine it's going to get worse. By the time I'm 40 I can imagine state employed, possibly community service offenders, in orange suits (think the old [showing my age even in my media references] Tango adverts) coming to my house to beat me with a large stick shrieking: "You're old. You're old."

This fate sits heavily on me.

The glamorous realities of journalism

2009-12-22T21:50:00.000Z

I am sat in a pub. In a coat. In the cold. Writing twitter updates on poetry about vaginas.

I am listening to angry poetry about nursing homes, death, cold.

It is three days before Christmas and I am voluntarily listening to poems about death.

This is an essential part of my training as a journalist.

Do I want to be a journalist?

A Chat Up Line

2009-12-16T22:44:00.001Z

"Awriiiiiiiggghhhht gawgeouuuus."

No one else is around. I'm dressed in the scruffy clothes I thought no one would see me in because I wasn't planning on being seen. Only an hour ago, my laptop broke, taking the assignment due tomorrow with it and now I'm stood in the Trafford Centre car park in the rain with no skin except my face and hands showing and a broken laptop. I do not look anyone's version of gorgeous.

"Yeah. You" says the grotty looking chav, "you alright gorgeous."

Clearly his patter has dried up. We've had alright. We've had gorgeous. That was it.
I suspect I use 'the look.' The one my mum says I got off my dad. The one that my sixth form tutor said was why (and I quote), "Melanie. people will always hate you. They will meet you and they will hate you."

I might have said, "yeah whatever," as well for good measure.

"ALRIGHT DARLING. SUIT YOURSELF THEN."

I realise then. Oh. My. God. He saw this whole situation somehow working out in his favour. Somehow, in his head, I was going to turn around and say, "yes nasty chav. You are the one for me. This has been a most effective courtship and let us now elope."

Why do men think this will ever work?

Locations of readings of the Lancashire Day Proclamation

2009-12-08T01:32:00.002Z

View Readings of the Lancashire Day Proclamation in a larger map

2009-12-02T23:34:00.000Z

Drowning...in...print portfolio.....nearly...completed.
One...news...story...left...then....need....to...finish...online article.

Light at the...end...of the...tunnel

Will...write...a...proper...blog...SOON!

Where I have been while I have not been blogging ...again

2009-11-22T16:46:00.000Z

It has been about 3 weeks since my last blog, yadah yadah. I've been in London pretending to be a publisher, or at least I've been on work experience at a publishers.

So I have been in London, far, far away.

I like London because:

1. It didn't rain once

2. It has John Simm in it

3. I saw John Simm in it

4. It has lots of wine and people I like in it

5. It has men in suits having fights about Blackberries in KFC

6. It has shops that sell one product like banjos or door handles which operate as a viable business

7. It is full of people who say glllaaarsssss and walk quickly and wear suede shoes unafraid of rain

8. It is outside the remit of the Lancashire Evening Post

9. It has gifted me many many free books

10. I know one day I can move there and never come back

How to be a student journalist

2009-10-27T22:21:00.001Z

According to the very useful Online Journalism Blog, there are ten things you need to do to be a good journalism student. Not an actual journalist mind. A journalism student. The very being accepted on a course and becoming £20,000 in debt, it seems, does not a journalism student make.

As I am now almost half way through my journalism degree and utterly failing to become a remotely proper grown up journalist (if you are an editor reading this in the future, assume by now that I have transformed - butterfly like - into a proper grown up journalist), it seems time to consult the checklist.

1. Read The News.
This I do. Although more often the style, then the travel, the arts, the money, but give me enough deadlines and I will hit the actual news and not just read the headlines. In fact I will not only read the news, but I will watch it too, I will read The Guardian, then The Sun, The Times. I will read BBC online. Give it long enough, I will stretch to the Independent. I've never got bored/stressed/lazy enough to read the Daily Mail but I'm not ruling it out. Yes. I think I read the news.
Verdict: Pass

2. Forget you have an opinion
Unless writing a review or an opinion column, which is highly unlikely (other than this one), you're supposed to keep it objective. Thankfully, the lecturers are quite big on telling you that your opinion doesn't matter. Or at least they did in the first year. In the second year they make you write reviews and personal blogs and there's opinions all over the place.
Which is not a bad thing and is not meant to be at ALL defamatory towards any lecturer or the university or even the city. Please don't sue me. Please don't throw me out. Honestly. I quite like it!
Verdict: Opinions are a legal minefield. Keep it facty and if not, panic about defamation law.

3. Know the difference between News and Features
Err structure, errr time, errrrm ... other stuff
Verdict: Fail. I mean I know but I kinda don't but I mean I sort of know enough, more or less.

4. Make Contacts
Contacts are vital. Contacts are where you get your stories from. My contacts are a chicken farm and an environmental health officer. I am no longer welcomed by the RSPCA.
Verdict: I'm starting to see where I may be falling down in this pursuit of journalism.

5. Get a Life
Apparently journalists write about an area. It is also apparently of the utmost importance to pick a topic. I have been seperately advised that I should pick a niche topic in an up and coming area.
My interests are, in order of importance:
the utter panic of getting a job after graduation, vintage clothes, food, adventures, holidays, non vinatge clothes, DVD box sets and Corrie, books, attempting to lose weight through the medium of running.

Non of these are a niche, on non of these subjects am I an expert, non of these areas are very up and coming.
Verdict: You tell me, what should be my specialist subject. No really. What should it be?

6. Don't sit around waiting for an email reply
It is harder to ignore the phone. I have found this out the hard way. In fact I only found it out on Monday.
Verdict: Seems obvious.

7. Learn How to Spell
YES. One I can do.
Verdict: Pass

8. Be open to new experiences
Whilst being a specialist on how bullfrogs are using social media, it is also important to be 'curious' and be open to new situations and to be able to write about them.
Verdict: Good. If curious is another word for nosey.

9. Read Books.
This piece of advice has been crossed out in the original article. Books. Not so important. It's official. This advice has been replaced with: 'Know the rules so you can break them.'
I preferred 'Read Books'
Verdict:

10. Know what you want to get and chase it
Have an end goal. Is - apply for interesting jobs, work hard, get promoted, get other interesting jobs - an end goal? Is it not hard enough to get a job in the media without being picky about where and what you do? An end? I don't want an end. What would you do after the end? Die? Make a new end in haste? Die?
Verdict: Existential Crisis. Please come back later

Where on earth has Melanie been?

2009-10-19T20:21:00.003+01:00

I have been rubbish, RUBBISH, at this blogging malarky you must think.

Rubbish.

But no, well yes I haven't written anything on here at all, but no I haven't been rubbish.

I've been writing on my new blog, otherwise known as the place where I have to put my exams online so everyone can see them. If you have any interest at all (and I strongly advise that you shouldn't) it is right here

http://melaniewebsterjournalism.blogspot.com/

You'll notice I haven't made it a clickable link. This is to strongly discourage you from actually looking at it but so you know I haven't dropped off the face of the earth.

ps. The fact my blog has been commandeered by uni is the reason my 'about me' has become drier than a cream cracker

My First Year Roundup

2009-09-21T14:10:00.003+01:00

Hello "What do you do in Preston" readers (must change the name of this thing, any suggestions.) You've caught me in a reflective mood. (This is a lie. You've caught me in a shitshitshitlostmyunicardshitshitshitlecturesinanhourshitshitshitlatefordeadlinesshitshitshit kinda mood...but doesn't reflective sound better?) And my god, would my father not be disappointed with my grammar at this point.

Anyway, despite the almost complete lack of reflection in my mood, I thought it was wrong to let the first anniversary of my incarceration in Preston pass without some kind of godawful reality TV-esque best bits moment.

Being me and being my relationship with this lovely North Western outpost, I was of course absent from the town when the 12th of September came, but nevertheless, here is tribute to a year in Preston.

No kitchen, slugs in the kitchen, Lancashire Museum next to the prison, Scones in Lytham, Scones in general, playing The Shining in Leven, ten coats of white paint in my living room, Bring On The Trumpets, not getting out if the car in Wales, making scones, scoring free VIP tickets to Latitude, the seven hour drive to Latitude, easy seating, the pub quiz of terror with scary Warren, spa and bettys day in Harrogate, 2 many djs, dangerous eddie and his fabulous mother, rubbish gyms, making jam...and scones, vox popping people who didn't know the prime minister, feeding rescue donkeys at an interview, drinking with my lovely boss in New York, working in publishing, underwear expeditions with Lara, cooking a full crimboli dinner at home, ladies pints, the EEEEEEEL KING, getting banned from the RSPCA, cups of coffee in the library, getting lost in Kendal, court reporting, utterly failing to visit the Ribble Steam Railway, the many fish I have loved and lost this year, nearly buying a pet rabbit, going out in London, spending quality time with my favourites in Menorca, helping a girl i'd only just met break into her own house, quality time at the Ashton in Lanc (possibly the best place on earth), furiously cleaning before anyone came over, apologising for state of the house when people arrive, the slow descent towards becoming a proper grown up (i bought my own rolling pin ffs), many many box sets, rock of love, super sweet sixteen, going back to brum, clothes show, putting the world to rights, winning the lottery, lots of trips back to Hull and most importantly anyone or anytime i have shared a glass of wine or cup of tea with anyone I love......

Thanks to (frustrated Oscar speech time)

My wondrous and long suffering Mr, the best journo who ever wore wonderful tights Lucy, the Blue Peter in training wonder that is English Vicki, the ever corporatelicious sexpot Lara, my fierce and smiling with the eyes Emma who is living the Mad Men dream, the only lady I will drink pints for (and that's saying something) and brilliant novelist Jenn, last of the great tea drinkers Beccy, multicoloured hair spectacular that words will not do justice to Gemma, Cath Kidston and fellow spa obsessive Hannah, utterly unreliable but reliably funny planner extraordinarire Colin, shallow as a puddle but my shallow as a puddle sister Fluffy and anyone else who is actually reading this.

Two years left.

Tonight I shall...

2009-08-20T18:00:00.003+01:00

It's just me at home tonight.

I could paint the back room. My long suffering boyfriend will come home tomorrow and his eyes will light up: "You've finished the back room." He will say. "It looks lovely. Oh thank you!"

And we shall look at our back room. And we shall have a cup of tea in it. We might even have our tea at the table.

"I love you" He will say. "You are the best girlfriend ever."

I could go to the gym. I could put on my gym kit and go for a five km run on a treadmill. I could take a bottle of water to save money. I could come home after 100 sit ups and prepare a slimline nutritious tea. My long suffering boyfriend will come home tomorrow and his eyes will light up: "You are now so lovely and slim." He will say. "You look lovely. I am inspired by your commitment to living a healthy and active lifestyle. Let's walk up a mountain this weekend."

I could hoover the stairs and finish the ironing and actually put the ironing board away. I could stop thinking about cleaning the bathroom and do it. And my lovely long suffering boyfriend will come home tomorrow and his eyes will light up. "You've cleaned the house." He will say. "It looks lovey. Oh thank you!"

And we shall wonder at the cleanness of the house and feel smug and grown up. We shall wake up at the weekend and look at it and not think. "Oh god. The house"

He wouldn't clean if he was me.

He'd play on the xbox

I'm going to eat super noodles and watch Benefit Busters.

Chicken supernoodles.

With Cheese.

Ode to a Scone

2009-08-17T18:35:00.003+01:00

As part of my infrequent series on weight loss, it has come to be that time of the month when we contemplate the horrors that are council owned gyms. Or at least Fulwood and its leisure centre.

Does anyone still consider a gym to be a leisure pursuit? To be fair, there are other activities you can partake in at Fulwood leisure centre, but seeing as the sauna, downstairs gym (oh the connotations) and the swimming pool were closed this afternoon, this leaves only the gym and some squash courts. And a gym and some squash courts, I feel, do not a leisure centre make.

Having decided though, that diets are for other people and that by making small and simple changes to my diet, I can lose the weight (quantity: unknown, due to the possession of suicide scales) slowly and carefully. I have worked out, in fact, that it took two years to very slowly put about a stone and a bit on in. Therefore, in another two years, I will be back to my target weight.

Two years is a very, very long time.

And so I lay in bed last night contemplating cracking out the exercise DVD to hurry up the slow and careful weight loss. Only I still can't quite bear to hear that woman's voice ever again. So, back to the gym with its rubber tiles, its polystyrene ceiling tiles, its free-weight-training-white-t-shirted-boys, its cross trainer and its painful introspection about why I need to be on a cross trainer.

Basically it all comes down to scones. I love scones. I love scones so much. I love the warm crumbly just out of the oven scone with raspberry jam or butter, but never both and never ever clotted cream. I love scones so much that when I now see my Grandma she asks how the weight loss is going. I love scones so much that people I haven't seen for a while tell me I look well. I love scones so much that when I say I'm trying to lose weight, they offer tips rather than saying "oh but you don't need to." By rights, I should hate scones by now, I should never want to see a scone again. But I don't. The path of true love is never easy, but it is pure, and my love of scones shall conquer all.

And my hate of the gym shall rumble ever onwards.

Blog

2009-08-03T23:28:00.001+01:00

There will be a blog.

So soon.

So very soon.

But not yet.

sorry

This week in Preston

2009-07-23T13:49:00.007+01:00

It is now mid week and there is no Latitude post. Was it not epic you ask? Well yes but "Colin with the Camera" still has the photos and it's not an experience that can be fully appreciated without photos of me in minnie mouse ears. So that will just have to wait a little tiny while.

HOWEVER, this weekend as part of the excitement that is "Melanie's exciting weekends over the summer", I am going to Wales. And not just any part of Wales, oh no, the absolute middle of nowhere part of Wales. The part with mining museums and open air museums and national wool museums. Am I excited? Are you kidding. I LOVE wool. I love wool so much i'm going to put a photo of some wool in my blog right here, right now...

Isn't it lovely?

I also love hard hats. (Should I include a photo of one of those too? Oh what the hell, let's go crazy)

So clearly a trip to a mining museum is also a winner.

Most of all though I love my wonderful friend Emma who has hair like Nicola from Girls Aloud and also thinks that wool museums and hard hats are a thing of glory who I have not seen for many moons. She's the one I'm going to visit in case you were wondering.

Let's put a photo of her in for good measure.

And that will be this weekend. Exciting Times.

Melanie's Exciting Job means she's at a festival this weekend!

2009-07-18T22:44:00.001+01:00

This weekend, due to the exciting and jammy nature of my job, I am at Latitude festival.

I shall tell you all about it when I come home.

In the mean time please answer my survey target="_blank">here

Melanie's Exciting Jam Making Expedition

2009-07-16T21:23:00.014+01:00

The day was in York, at a pick your own fruit place. (My sister will kill me for this photo). There was much excitement.

The excitement continued.

The sky was grey. The picking became somewhat more urgent.

The box then broke. The sister, wearing identical to me but in a size smaller, was not thrilled. The mother stepped in to fix the box. The box then broke again. It was less amusing this time.*

* Both of these incidents might technically have been my fault.

The raspberries were then used to make highly exciting jam! Cheerful and productive!

Melanie's Exciting Weekends Over The Summer!

2009-07-10T21:02:00.003+01:00

It is July and I have been missing for quite some time.

I have:
*been on holiday,
*had a family crisis,
*gone to a bikini bootcamp disguised as a writing course,
*got a full time job, and
*been mistaken for a drug addict.

I have not been to visit ANY of the people I owe visits to in: (in no particular order) London, Milton Keynes, the "sticks" in Wales, Hull and Manchester.

I now can not be bothered to write a blog about anything that has happened in the past month because:
*my tan has faded,
*I have no desire to write about family sagas,
*I have put the weight back on,
*my job is great but only for me
*I have got the photos back from drug-addict-gate and while the strongest thing I had consumed was Nando's wine, it is a fair assumption given my waxy complexion and heavy heavy eye make up.

So I need a new direction, or at least my blog needs structure. And structure it shall have!
Ladies and Gentlemen, I give to you....

Melanie's exciting weekends over the summer!

A new series of joyful blogs set OUTSIDE the perimeter of the good city of Preston.
How! I hear you say, will these blogs be any different WHATSOEVER to the current blogs which spend more time outside the walls of Preston than they do in them, which, for a blog about Preston is simply NOT ACCEPTABLE

Well, I shall tell you good 'What do you do in Preston readers'!

These blogs shall be set officially outside of Preston, they shall be accompanied by the official "Melanie's exciting weekends over the summer photo" and erm that's about it really. I might put distance and time from Preston just, y'know, to kind or reference Preston but erm otherwise, it's an excuse to go away for the weekend.

SO, in conclusion, if you recognise your city in the list at the top and you have foolishly offered me an invite assuming that I wouldn't visit then, erm, tough, i'm coming anyway. Please. Thank you. Sorry

Back next week. Gone fishing

2009-06-18T20:42:00.003+01:00

Please hold the line while we try to connect you. The number you are calling knows you are waiting.
Please hold the line while we try to connect you. The number you are calling knows you are waiting.
Please hold the line while we try to connect you. The number you are calling knows you are waiting.
Please hold the line while we try to connect you. The number you are calling knows you are waiting.
Please hold the line while we try to connect you. The number you are calling knows you are waiting.
Please hold the line while we try to connect you. The number you are calling knows you are waiting.
Please hold the line while we try to connect you. The number you are calling knows you are waiting.
Please hold the line while we try to connect you. The number you are calling knows you are waiting.
Please hold the line while we try to connect you. The number you are calling knows you are waiting.
Please hold the line while we try to connect you. The number you are calling knows you are waiting.
Please hold the line while we try to connect you. The number you are calling knows you are waiting.
Please hold the line while we try to connect you. The number you are calling knows you are waiting.
Please hold the line while we try to connect you. The number you are calling knows you are waiting.
Please hold the line while we try to connect you. The number you are calling knows you are waiting.
Please hold the line while we try to connect you. The number you are calling knows you are waiting.
Please hold the line while we try to connect you. The number you are calling knows you are waiting.
Please hold the line while we try to connect you. The number you are calling knows you are waiting.
Please hold the line while we try to connect you. The number you are calling knows you are waiting.
Please hold the line while we try to connect you. The number you are calling knows you are waiting.
Please hold the line while we try to connect you. The number you are calling knows you are waiting.

The fruit that is not of Preston

2009-05-22T11:11:00.005+01:00

I am not in Preston (again) and shall not be for quite some time (Wednesday).

However due to having recently been in Preston (yesterday) and having done something Preston related (Word Soup #2 at the Continental) you can read all about my expolit (singular) here

Here are some photos of fruit not grown in Preston.

How to (not really) lose weight Preston stylee

2009-05-15T13:01:00.003+01:00

(7 months, 28 days later)

5 weeks ago I decided to lose some weight. I HATE losing weight. I can deal with the food side of it fine but I HATE exercise in all on its evil inglorious forms!

As it is now 5 weeks later and there is still the majority of a post left to go about weight loss, I think it is safe to assume dear readers that said weight loss is not going well.

The weight loss is not going well.

I HATE the gym. I hate the smell of the rubber floor tiles on the stairs leading up to it, I hate the other people in their gym appropriate gym kit, I hate the running on a treadmill waiting for ten minutes to pass so I can get off again. In short- not much of a gym girl.

So I bought an exercise DVD.

Charlie Brooks before and after workout to be precise. Bought on the promise that she looks like she's hating the whole ordeal...which she does...except when a producer is obviously shouting in her earpiece to look like she's enjoying it which has the curious effect of Janine from Eastenders grinning like a mad woman for five seconds half way through a set of star jumps.

All this is amusing. Unfortunately the gym instructor next to her is loathsome. I do not wish to clap in my living room...ever. And she has that god awful gym instructor say everything twice affectation- "left, and right, Do it again, Do it again now." "Step left, now right, HOLD HOLD, together."

So clearly I'm now avoiding that too.

Which brings this blog away from girl-obsessing-loudly-and dully-about-her-weight-in-public and into something to do in Preston (hurrah! About time I hear you say)

I now own a copy of Walking in Lancashire and Lakeland Walks on the Level. TWO books of walks around the *ahem Preston area (we have established already I believe that the Lakes are of course in Preston). So just as soon as I have finished avoiding Preston (Monday) I can bring you news of the simply THRILLING countryside in the Preston area and of that stone I SHALL be losing in the next five weeks.

Really should make it to that railway

And that football museum.

One thing at a time ey?

A Preston activity YOU can join in with

2009-05-12T16:01:00.003+01:00

It has now been 7 months and 25 days since I moved to Preston and my second first year of uni is now OVER. Hurrah!

So what have I been doing around Preston .......

hmmm

Before we get onto that, first let's look at this lovely photo I took of Buckingham Palace

Actually I think that may answer what I have been doing in Preston. Avoiding it like a metaphorical plague - which I do highly recommend. And the GREAT thing about avoiding Preston is that you can do it from anywhere!

Are you reading this at home? At work?

(Disclaimer: This only works is you are not in Preston)

Ok well think to yourself "I simply must go to Preston right now. I must stand up, walk out the door (don't turn around now) and go by any means possible to Preston"

Doing that?

OK well now JUST DON'T GO.

You are effectively avoiding going to Preston. Feels good doesn't it.

Word Soup Lit Event - 21 April

2009-04-26T23:14:00.005+01:00

Steven Hall (left) and Chris Killen (right) discuss books before taking to the stage for their readings

The Word Soup reading event at the New Continental was the first of its kind in Preston, according to organiser, Jenn Ashworth of Preston Writing Network. With writers ranging from international bestsellers to exciting new unpublished talents, it was a diverse and edgy night out for everyone who came.

The event held in the venue’s event space on Tuesday night got a great reaction from the audience who were treated to readings on the theme of risk.

Organiser and published writer, Jenn Ashworth read from her novel "A Kind of Intimacy” which has been getting rave reviews from the press. Her comic timing brought her dark novel about love and obesity to life.

Speaking afterwards she said: "Despite a few technical hitches and last minute panics, I think it went really well!”

Cult best-seller, Steven Hall (The Raw Shark Texts) impressed with his confident reading of a passage about conceptual information streams from his award winning novel whilst Manchester writer and award winning blogger, Chris Killen (The Bird Room) gave an effective nervous energy to his reading about a paranoid boyfriend hiding his girlfriend’s ex’s bushes.

Watch interviews with Chris Killen and Steven Hall from after the event

Cat Dunlop and Catherine Cable. new writers from the Continental Collective creative writing group, read their own original work and Sally Cook read a hilarious story about stealing apple juice.

Live music in between the readings came from singer/songwriter Ottersgear, who claimed to have named himself after a bridge he used to sometimes sleep under.

Check out the live tweets from the evening at #wordsoup.

See more images from the night

The next event is on the 19th May and the theme is SKIN

Live Blogging from Word Soup in Preston

2009-04-21T20:17:00.019+01:00

Welcome to my take on live blogging. I'm at Word Soup which is a new literary event in Preston and therefore officially classed as something-to-do-in-Preston. The lovely Jenn Ashworth who runs Preston Writing Network (http://prestonwritingnetwork.blogspot.com/) is here and will be reading from her book "A Kind of Intimacy." Chris Killen who wrote the rather inspired "Bird Room" and Steven Hall who wrote the cult novel "The Raw Shark Textx" will also be reading.

I'm also joined by two actual tweeting/blogging people who can actually work their blogs and indeed twitter, so if you want serious content you need to flag up Ed Walker from Preston Blog or doktorb on twitter who is lovely and taking time out to help me!!!

20:26. The local singer songwriter who's name I completely missed due to issues with multitasking has just introduced a song about an area of Preston which is "lovely if you can look past the crap". Good times

20:33 Jenn Ashworth introduces the two writers from the continental collective. One is definitely called Catherine. She's reading from the booklet they've produced which is all about vengeful brides. I don't think it will be a happy ending

20:37 Thinking of ways to kill would be bride groom

20:38 definitely ruled out poisoning him

20:39 we don't get to find out how he dies. Gutted. Apparently she's marrying him anyway and will kill him later

20:40 Catherine is reading from Spin Cycle which she confesses will be similar. Seems the plumber hasn't made it. Did you know the average man has 7 litres of blood in his body?

20:43 Stunning knowledge of the lakeland catelogue and how to dispose of bodies. I'm a little afraid.

20:45 Sally Cook. Ninechainstothemoon@blogspot is the next writer to read. She is wearing a gorgeous floral miniskirt with what looks like a thermal vest under a white t shirt. It's a good look. The mic is having issues-otherwise of course I wouldn't be bothering with such frivolities.

20:50 Very funny story about Angela who's apple juice must NOT be touched

21:00 Jenn Ashworth is reading from her novel: A kind of Intimacy. Preston blog has just said bless at my pathetic attempts at twitter...which are at Novelty Penguin

21:38 End of break. Hurrah! We're back with the singer who apparently calls himself Ottersgear...not sure why. Shall endeavour to be more informative

21:42 He's named himself after the bridge he used to sleep under - Otter's Gear Bridge. It was a good time. Apparently.

21:49 Still singing, getting progressively more miserable. Not in a mean way. He just sounds very unhappy

21:56 We have Rebecca Wimnot, she's reading poetry about scary 70s eye changing dolls (her description, not mine).

22:04 Chris Killen is reading from his book the Bird Room which he says is 9.99 in Waterstones or half price at Amazon.

22:07 It's about a paranoid loser who acquires a girlfriend and slowly loses her. It is very good if you haven't already read it

22:12 He's convinced that her ex is the type of man who reads FHM "from cover to cover." He's hiding in the ex's bushes.

22:13 Next up is Steven Hall who is reading from the Raw Shark Texts which you should buy many many copies of

22:15 He's reading a passage about conceptual streams. He is also wearing a "It's Never Dull in Hull" t shirt which is genius

22:22 I'm supposed to be filming this, oh bugger!!!!

22:30 And it's all over! Mingling and drinking time now apparently. Next event is on the 19th May and will be on the theme of skin at the New Continental.

MUST DO IN PRESTON: All in one garden centre, fish shop AND falconry centre

2009-04-21T14:39:00.006+01:00

I finally have some fish.

After setting up the tank for the two week period, I went to the pet shop on Blackpool Road to buy my lovely fish

shop assistant: have you already got a tank

me: (feeling proud) Yes

shop assistant: How long has it been set up?

me: two weeks now

shop assistant: And how large is it?

me: 35 litres

shop assistant: 135 litres?

me: No (slightly confused because 135 litres is a bloody big tank and the largest tank they sell is only 120 litres)

shop assistant: (that strange typically Preston sucking in breath whilst shaking head expression)

Well you're not going to get much in that

me: Well I wanted about 5 fish, maybe some of those silver sharks

shop assistant: No I can't sell you those for a 35 litre tank, they grow up to 18 inches

me (looks doubtfully at the small grey goldfish fish)

OK, well how about these?

shop assistant: ooooh (sucking noise), I've lost count of the people who've had to keep buying larger and larger tanks to cope with them and then asking if we'll buy them back because they're so big

me: (looks doubtfully at the supposedly mutant tetra fish)

What CAN I have?

shop assistant: You might be alright with three of these

(points to teeny tiny neon fish)

me: riiiiiiiight and could I have a catfish with those

shop assistant: Oh no, not until your tank has been set up at least 12 weeks and yours has only been set up two, you told me.

(Good observation shop lady. Not much gets past you)

Have you got gravel in the bottom?

me: No sand

shop assistant: WHY?!

me: It's pretty

shop assistant: It will kill the catfish, it will get stuck in their filtration system. Actually there are NO FISH here that could survive SAND. You're going to have to buy some gravel and start again.

And so I did.

However in the meantime I went to another pet shop back in Hull and noticed EVERY SINGLE TANK had sand in the bottom. And the catfish weren't dead.

So a month later, with my suitably prepared tank complete with gravel-just in case, I set off for another fish shop near Blackpool.

Only their fish were under quarantine. So they sent us to another shop.

Which had an altogether more fulfilling fish buying experience....

bored looking teenage shop assistant

me: May I buy some fish

shop assistant: Yeah which one do you want?

me: Can I have three glass catfish

shop assistant: Yeah

me: And three dwarf rainbow fish. Do they get on?

shop assistant: Yes, all our fish get on

And that was that.

Or so I thought, needless to say two of the damn see through fish died within two days, which is how I found myself in a pet shop/falconry centre/garden centre. The sign outside said "flying demonstration today" which I think must be a unique to Preston experience. So unique, I'm going to put it in red. Buying a bench? Like birds of prey to swoop while you buy stuff? Well the garden centre in Penwortham is for YOU. Not content to just fly a kestrel? Want to take home a shrubbery at the end of the day? Then come to Preston! It's unusual!

I digress.

The water turned out to be very dark blue on the pH scale which is not at all neutral, so we (yup poor boyfriend was there as well) bought some neutraliser powder, more rubbish see through fish who seem no happier than the last lot and a proper catfish-called Betty!!!

Hurrah!

Hopefully no more pet shops this week

Shopping in Preston and a trip to the Deep on the outskirts of the city

2009-04-17T10:36:00.007+01:00

It has been a while, well Easter, and this is a rubbish intro. So what's been going on in Preston?

There was egg rolling on Easter Sunday which is..... something to do with rolling eggs? I wasn't there, I was in Hull eating turkey and chocolate and watching High School Musical 3 (thanks for that Alice).

Before then, I broke my holy vow never to enter the city of Preston. That needs explaining. At the end of October I decided to avoid Preston city centre like the plague. For reasons I'm not sure of. Within weeks I found myself driving to the Trafford Centre just to go to the bank so I could not go into town for just a little longer. I of course realised this was a foolish waste of time and money and therefore, switched banks.

However I need a job, quite badly actually, and found myself having to go into town to visit lovely Hays and even lovelier Brook Street and Oh My God what has happened to Preston?

(In my first blog my tutor, Andy? Alan?, it's one of them, said that I should use a photo to demonstrate my point and create visual interest for my reader, so here goes....)

There are so so so many empty shops, none of the shops pictured above mind, but it was actually SHOCKING to see how many of them have gone in six months.

So top tip, if you want to go shopping in Preston as a day out, I would do it sooner rather than later!

Anyway, back to Easter and the lousy structure of this blog. To avoid watching High School Musical 3 again, I decided to go to The Deep with the sister and the long suffering boyfriend who loves fish.

If you ever happen to be on the other side of the country from Preston, or you're in Preston looking for a day out and REALLY like driving, The Deep is my favourite oversized fish tank.

It is a submarium, which is a word made up by Hull City Council to confuse tourists into visiting a very big fish tank and it looks like this

(photo credited to my friend James who won't (read: hopefully won't) sue or whatever it is you can do for using a photo without permission)

Kinda half boat/half shark and it has all the things you'd expect in an aqaurium: fish, sharks, fish, lobsters, fish, jellyfish, fish, mudskippers (oh my god I love mudskippers) and fish.

It's just like a day out in Preston and a great antidote to High School Bloody Musical if you have kids!

Random photos of takeaways, don't ask!

2009-04-03T12:42:00.006+01:00

Move along now, there's nothing to see here.

The Lake District and Kirby Lonsdale and Lancaster and.... well let's pretend they're all in Preston shall we?

2009-04-03T09:31:00.001+01:00

As the descriptive and web friendly headline suggest, this week in my BLOG about PRESTON and THINGS TO DO (are you picking this up google? you better be?) I decided the best thing to do was leave.

We (myself and long suffering boyfriend) checked in to about the nicest hotel I have ever stayed in, in Lancaster of all places (thank you long suffering boyfriend). It was all very lovely. And that is all I have to say on that matter.

So bright and early on Saturday we set of to find Blackwell House which is a beautiful arts and crafts house...and makes me sound about 50.

We drove up the M6, all well and good, and then we hit THE ROUNDABOUT (dum dum dum)

The "how to find us" map on the webiste does not do justice to the many, MANY ways there are to get lost on the three miles approaching bloody Blackwell bloody house.

So here's my guide

1. three miles of "mel i'm sure we were supposed to go right at that roundabout" country lanes

2. return to roundabout

3. turn right

4. drive another ten or so miles up the "i swear the directions said left" road

5. consider how whenever you get lost in an area with a higher than average tree per metre count, you always wish you had break down cover.

6. turn onto another dirt track to turn around AGAIN.

7. whilst attempting three point turn get the car stuck in mud, panic for life, make long suffering boyfriend get out of the car and push it out of the field.

8. resolve to buy that break down cover.

9. drive another thousand miles along "mel you know it's a speed limit, not a target", country roads.

10. Arrive an hour later feeling exceptionally car sick and spend most of time in said beautiful country house tea room trying to fight back nausea.

Having had MORE than enough of the lake district by this point.

ste: isn't this nice?

me: do you want to get out?

ste: not really

me: no me neither

we pulled into a viewing point for the token "look! This is me next to a lake photo."

And continued on our way.

STILL undefeated by tyring to have a "nice day out," we carried on to Kirby Lonsdale.

Have you heard the Alfred Hitchcock presents music? I'll put it here for you if you haven't.

This could actually be the place's theme tune, all very pretty tea shops and stone cottages but with something sinister just below the surface. Highly recommended if you find yourself three miles from the place and in need of a cup of tea.

And here ends this week's lesson... but what did we learn?

hotels are nice, driving is not, the lakes are alright if you like trees, villages are sinister and against all the odds, I felt quite grateful to be back in preston.

Bored? At a loose end? Why not visit Preston magistrates court

2009-03-26T21:07:00.007Z

Preston. Day 196.

This week wanting to expose some of the hidden beauty and culture of Preston, I visited the historic and imposing Preston Magistrates' Court.

Which actually looks nothing like the one in Birmingham I lived across the road from up there ^^^^

No THIS stunning specimen... just past the job centre, the grotty Wetherspoons and then the scariest block of flats in the world ... is Preston's Magistrates Court.

So why is a trip to the courts worth a go when in sunny Preston?

Well first of all you have to dress up for court. Everyone likes to dress up and there are not enough excuses for it while in Preston. Also you get frisked by one of those metal detector things like they have in airports on the way in, which isn't my cup of tea, but i'm sure some people love it.

And we're not even into the court room yet!

You could be lucky like I was and watch the preliminary hearing of someone charged with perverting the course of justice WHO LIVES ON YOUR STREET!

Alternatively you could hear the details of crimes so stupid you wouldn't believe them if you weren't watching someone being convicted for them.

And, it's free! Anyone can go!

( I would write more but having written an essay on court reporting restrictions this week, i'm a little bit nervy about the whole being sued/found in contempt of court issue.)

So go see for yourself. Try COURT VISITING!!

Lytham

2009-03-18T23:03:00.002Z

It has been 6 months and 5 days since I moved to Preston

This week, once again I tried to visit the Ribble Steam Railway and apparently it only opens on Sundays from April. Gutted.

So instead I have been to Lytham. Granted, it's not in Preston and granted, the good people of Lytham would quite likely be horrified to be associated with Preston, but for the sake of this blog, Lytham is a Preston day out.

Things I found to do in Lytham (in list form for your pleasure)

1. House viewings

Upmarket area + housing market crisis = open house viewings.

My lovely boyfriend and I spent quality time pretending we could afford to buy a £1.3 million house on the seafront. It's not to everyone's taste but if like me, you've been raised on location, location/grand designs, there's a lot of pleasure to be had from moaning about the quality of the finish on a wet room.

NOTE: If by some freakish chance you are reading this blog in the south, a £1.3 million house is worth about 6 million in your money.

2. Fish and Chips

There's a chip shop that Gordon Ramsay went to for his birthday.

It does large haddock, chips, mushy peas, bread and butter AND a pot of tea for £6.95.

It might be the second nicest fish and chip shop ever.

Surely worth a visit?

NOTE: best chip shop being either Cave Street Electric fish shop or Pacific Catch on cott road in Hull because they have chip spice and patties, which are possibly worth a trip to Hull?

3. The shop that sells Vivienne Westwood shoes

I can not afford Vivienne Westwood shoes but I like to look at them. It makes me feel like I am near civilisation.

NOTE: only applicable if you do not live in civilisation

4. The fact the whole place looks like a toy village

NOTE: only applicable...yeah you get it

5. It has a windmill on the beach

6. It isn't Preston.

The Previous Fish

2009-03-13T01:50:00.000Z

Once upon a time there was a girl who lived in Birmingham.

A city which is infinitely more exciting than Preston.

One day, her boy bought her two fish.

She called them Pete and Marjorie.

They all lived happily for a time.

Marjorie died.

The girl was inconsolable.

She phoned the fish shop.

She wanted answers.

They blamed her.

She cried more.

They backtracked and suggested she bought another fish.

She bought another fish.

This one was called Sarah.

They all lived happily for a time.

The girl moved out. (although the boy didn't. He stayed in Birmingham to work and look after the fish)

Pete died.

The girl cried more.

The girl broke up with the boy.

The boy cried.

The boy slowly killed the other fish.

The girl decided no good could come from fish ownership.

A story in no way related to the Ribble Steam Railway

2009-03-13T00:01:00.000Z

(It has been 5 months and 24 days since I moved to Preston)

This week I decided to visit the Ribble Steam Railway as my Preston related activity of the week.

I'm sure it's great.

I didn't go.

Instead I went to....... (drum roll).....the pet shop.

Now keen readers of this blog (all three of you) will know that the selection of things to do in Preston include.

a) shit shopping

b) shit pubs

c) apparently one nice restaurant

d) visiting the pet shop.

And having become something of a connossieur of the Preston Pet Shop Scene, I decided it was time to branch out into fish ownership.

The last attempt at fish ownership did not go so well,

what with my tendency to name ANYTHING with eyes and then get attached to it and then go into mourning when it promptly dies.

But this time, I have a filter. I have a heater, a light, I even have fake Roman Colosseum ruins. I have a good feeling about this.

Now all I have to do is:

a) fill the tank with water

b) have the diplomatic incident with my boyfriend about how we are going to position the sand in the bottom of the tank

c) wait ten days

d) BUY A CATFISH!!!!!

e) (visit something in Preston)

On advice, I am now ending this blog with an open ending to encourage people to write a comment. Please someone write a comment. Please. Even if it's abuse.

What do you think I should call my catfish?

Museum of Lancashire

2009-03-04T21:37:00.000Z

It has been 5 months and 20 days since I moved to Preston.

Preston. Lancashire.

Not the Preston about ten miles from Hull. (Which has caused considerable confusion.)

The Preston where it rains near constantly.

And in these nearer six months than five I have found precisely nil to do in Preston. Nada. Unless you count getting lost somewhere near Garstang... which I don't.

Unfortunately though, due to a university assignment, (designed to show the world my avant-garde approach to commas) I have to write a blog. On a theme. Every week. Until Easter.

So with the imminent arrival of my best friend from London who was not going to be impressed by the options of,

a. rubbish shopping,

b. rubbish pubs,

c. a trip to the pet shop (yes this really was an option)

I set about to find a theme and something to do in Preston.

We arrived at the Lancashire Museum. In the rain, naturally, and wondered if the £2 entry was rather steep. It seemed that if you like the history of motorways, you will just LOVE the Lancashire Museum.

...Only then something happened. Maybe it was the hangover, maybe it was the dressing up boxes in every room, maybe it was the impressive variety of military jackets, maybe we'll never know (hmm maybe overusing the dramatic licence there a little) but the museum turned out to be...well quite good fun actually.

And so there was my theme. Things to do in Preston. Possibly so that you will never have to. But still, a worthy experiment?