Posts tagged journalism

A long, shaky day in news land

It was a big, busy day in the bustling GTA and this plucky cub reporter has a lot of things to say!
- A poetic salutation by Lauren O’Neil.

As some of you may have felt (if you live in Ontario, Quebec or the Northern United States), a 5.5 magnitude earthquake rocked the earth up in my neck of the woods today.

It was approximately 1:46 p.m. when tremors hit the 5th floor (and probably every other floor) of the Toronto Star building according to my log.

I was sitting in the box, deeply engaged in the story I was writing about marine restrictions between June 25th and 27th (I guess a bunch of rich dudes are throwing some big fancy party to talk about how rich they are at The Metro Convention Centre this weekend or something… how terribly inconvenient!) when I felt the building start to sway.

I’d heard that there were going to be severe storms today (still waiting on that), so I figured that it was probably a strong gust of wind – until it kept happening. I got up from my chair and looked around the newsroom. Everybody else was doing the same thing.

That’s when I started to get excited.

Did somebody bomb the convention centre? Are G20 protesters rioting downstairs? Could we, just maybe, be experiencing a real live EARTHQUAKE?!? Like the movie stars in HOLLYWOOD? Like Zach and the gang in that episode where Mrs. Belding has her baby in an elevator?

I’ve only ever experienced one earthquake before, and I don’t even remember it. It was when I was in Grade 5 and it was like, 8:30 p.m. and I was already in bed and slept right through it. All of my classmates who stayed up like because they were cooler than me were talking about it was the next day and I totally had to lie about how the picture frames FLEW OFF OF MY WALLS and UP INTO THE AIR LIKE GHOSTS!

I’ve never been a very good liar.

As soon as our bodies stopped rocking, the newsroom was all “full steam ahead!” – not that it wasn’t already. The days just keep getting busier as the G-CRUMMY gets closer  (see what I did there? see? HA! I slay myself, I do!)

The phones were ringing off the heezy with citizen tips, and the Twitterverse was abuzz with #earthquake chatter (I think that calling the newspaper must have been what people did before Twitter was around, ya know? I talked to a lot of precious old ladies today on the phone about how their plants and couches were shaking.)

I frantically tried to reach Earthquakes Canada, but of course their website wasn’t loading because the internet connectivity had dropped like woah.

When I did manage to finagle their digits, I couldn’t get through to an operator because everybody else was calling them too (scientists must feel like rockstars when natural disasters occur, eh?). So I called the Americans instead. The U.S. Geological Survey confirmed that is was, in fact, a 5.5 Magnitude earthquake we had just felt – and not the Decepticons, as I had secretly feared.

All of this came on the heels of an already uberbusy day.

I started my morning trying to snuff out the story of a suspicious package found at Queens Park station, which turned out to be nothing more than a briefcase someone had left behind. That little black “package” shut down the University subway line for an hour and a half during rush hour. Oi. The city of Toronto feels like a giant freakin’ post 9-11 American airport right now.

After that, the scanners were going nuts with all this gobbily gook about a cemetary sitch. I don’t think I’m allowed to repeat what I hear on the scanners on my blog. Even if I could, is that integrous? Whatever. I DID get everything I put into the article confirmed bye ze police, ’cause that’s how we roll in the box: PYAW!

Just as the earthquake kerfuffle was dying down a titch, one my editors came in like “Can you call the police to find out what’s going on at the Eaton Centre? Someone’s saying that there’s a man with a rifle there and it’s being evacuated…”

Holysnap, right?

I called the Division the mall is in right away. The Staff Sergeant was busy, so I called the Eaton Centre instead. After being put on hold for about 10 minutes, some stodgy sounding man came on the phone saying that it was against procedure to speak with the media and that I’d have to get my information from the police.

He was obviously very important. (what does an eye-roll emoticon look like?)

Of course, the fact that he wasn’t talking got me a little bit worried. I started to think of my friends who work and/or shop in the mall and I remembered that – YES! I have friends who WORK and SHOP in the mall! They’ll tell me if there is, in fact, a psycho on the loose near Yonge-Dundas square!

Exceppppt they couldn’t, because I couldn’t call them. I had just lost all of my address book contacts (yay BlackBerry auto-sync. NOT.). So I did what I do best – I took to Twitter.

A quick search for “Eaton Centre” revealed dozens of tweets saying “Rumour has it that the Yonge and Dundas subway station had a man with a machine gun and the entire Eaton Centre just got evacuated.”

‘Holy Moly!’ I thought, as I logged into my personal Twitter account to see if anybody I knew had posted about the incident.

My next move had the potential to cost me more cred as a journalist, in my opinion, than almost anything I’ve done to date (except for maybe this).

I re-tweeted the “rumor”.

Now, this wouldn’t be such a big deal if I was just some kid – but I’m supposed to be a reporter. Verification of facts is my GAME.

Not only am I n00b journalist, I’m a flaming tweet-a-holic. You’d think that I would know the power and potential of a tweet gone awry better than anybody.

According to Klout, my Tweets have the potential to reach approximately a quarter of a million people.

That’s a lot of misinformed Tweeps.

After calling 2 different police divisions, their communications line, and the main police headquarters, it was confirmed that whoever had called in the initial report was confused.

Apparently, a man had been taken into custody in the area hours earlier for busting out a fake gun or something in a subway terminal (don’t quote me on that). There was no evacuation. There was no rifle. But I’d been retweeted dozens of times by this point – and my retweets had been retweeted too. It was spreading like wildfire.

So much so that Toronto Police put out a counter-tweet:

I felt like a bloody idiot.

After all the things I’d learned in J-School about accuracy, about the dangers of using Twitter as a source… I did exactly what I shouldn’t have done. I jumped the gun and, even though it was from my own personal Twitter account and not an actual article, I spread information that wasn’t true.

I left work feeling worse than that time Petah did something mildly zany and I had a flashback to it for comedic effect.

I’ve come to realize that it doesn’t matter whether or not I put unverified facts into a news article that makes it into the newspaper (though thankfully there are editors to ensure that this would never happen) or tweet unverified facts from my personal account.

Okay, so there’s a HUGE difference in terms of impact, but the point is that if I’m going to choose to make it known that I’m working as a journalist – if I’m going to publicly associate my name with my employer’s brand – then I need to hold my Twitter feed up to the same standard that I would hold my professional work up to. Or maybe I should abstain from trying to break news on a personal account altogether.

These are things that I already sort of knew, deep down, but didn’t really think about until after I’d clicked that irrevocable send button.

I’m learning that what the grownups say is true: They can teach you all about the practice and principles of a profession in school, but it’s not until you actually encounter these types of issues in the real world that you truly learn.

I am reminded (said the sage old post-grad) of a young doctor I once knew while interning at a hospital. He told me all about how, in medical school, he had studied human anatomy extensively. He knew everything he needed to know about the practice of dissecting a body, but when it came time to make the first cut into a cadaver, he almost tossed his cookies. But he didn’t puke; he made the cut. It was really hard at first, he said, but the experience taught him more than any book could have.

You get what I’m sayin’, right? Growing pains.

Nothing wrong with making mistakes if you can learn from them to improve your game in the future. I guess I’d rather learn this lesson within my first month on the job than down the road once I’ve established some real cred and something mega’s at stake.

Anyways, I just want to apologize to anyone who may have been freaked out by my tweet earlier today. I hope that in time, I can earn your trust back… but until then, I’ll stick to what I know best – Hilaritawesomeness.

Check out the saddest IMDB profile ever (via @DarynJones):

heh heh heh…

Bed time for me! Majorhuge day tomorrow. If you thought my Perez interview was cool, just wait until you see who I’ve got lined up next :) eeeee!

<3,

Laur-Anne Sellors O’Nizzle

In ten days, I will be your Master.

Okay, maybe not YOUR master – but A Master. A Master of Arts in Journalism, that is.

Six Weeks ago, I was certain that on this day I would be straight thrilled with life.

I’m nearly finished my term work (only one major article and a few small assignments left to crank out!), the winter weather is well on it’s way to Australia (suckers) and our big J-School semi-formal is this Thursday night.

As Ms. VP of Communications, it was my job to make a poster promoting said night of pure awesome, so I did last night, whilst watching How I met your mother and cruising the internet for funny stuff job postings.

The dead dog is an inside joke, btw. I’m not that deranged.

My feelings about the end of the semester are mixed, to say the least.

I mean, I want to graduate. I need to start working and making money so that I can get an apartment of my own (sans roommates – for the love of Buddah! I’m done!), a legitimate coffee maker, a bed that isn’t a futon… maybe even adopt myself a little dog – or at the very least, a nice houseplant.

The thing is, I’m a wee bit frightened by the prospect of finishing University. I’ve been going to school since I was 3 years old. It’s what I’m comfortable with – what I know and love.

Maybe that’s why the idea of getting a PhD has appealed to me so much lately?

Four more years ensconced within the warm, stimulating confines of academia, the promise of a cushy career filled with research, writing and teaching teaching to look forward to, a big office filled with books, some of which may even have my name on the cover, GLAVIN!!!

Maybe someday…

Right now, I really do think the best thing for me is to get out into the real world and start working. I’m up for the challenge!

A big part of me is just chomping at the bit to make my mark in the wild world of journalism (or whatever industry I end up falling into).

Still – it’s scary.

People keep asking me what I’ll be doing when I graduate…

“Got a job lined up yet?”
“How much have you been offered?”
“When do you leave London?”
“Where will you be living for the summer?”
“What’s your five year plan, deary?”
“What do you want to be when you grow up?”
“Can I have your credit card, social insurance number and bra size please?”

It’s seriously suffocating.

I don’t have the slightest idea of where I’ll even be living a month from now! I leave the city of London on April 30th and then it’s off to… Toronto? Chatham? Windsor? San Diego? Guelph? Hong Kong?

I hope it’s Hong Kong. (that’s a lie. I hate chinese food.)

But it’s not what city I’ll be living in that’s stressing me out the most, it’s what I’ll be doing in that city.

I’ve had opportunities come up within a variety of fields – Reporting, marketing, PR, advertising, teaching, gangsta rapping

How do you decide what you want to do for the rest of your life (or at least the next little while) when you want to do everything at once?

I’m just waiting to find out about the AXE gig so that I can at least make a move in one direction or the other.

Not much of a point in moving to Los Angeles in May if I find out that I’ll have a free place in Toronto come June, right?

Oh gosh… I really, really, hope I’ll have that place in Toronto come June, and the sweet, sweet summer job that comes along with it. Then, in September, maybe I’ll fulfill my life long dream of landing a job as a reporter likeNews Anchor Barbie (who just so happens to be released the year I’m graduating from Journalism School. A sign?)

She’s almost as cool as nerd computer engineer Barbie.

Btw – anybody else notice that the binary code on her pink laptop (#covet!) spell’s “Barbie”? Clever, clever!

I think that Computer Engineer Barbie needs to give her netbook (I am classifying it as such because its display is definitely less than ten inches) to Reporter Barbie so she can develop the crucial multimedia reporting skills that will allow her to succeed in today’s multi-platform news gathering environment!

Give her your sweet binary tee and hot pink kicks too while you’re at it, Nerdlinger.

Actually… maybe reporter Barbie should just give her mic to Poindexter Barbie and go return that little pink teddy she’s wearing to La Senza for some real clothes. Like, wtf Mattel?

I love pink more than Paris Hilton and Regina George combined and I still wouldn’t wear that to work. You’d be hard pressed to find a legit journalist who would (except maybe on Halloween. Actually, that’d be kind of cute, eh?)

Disjointed blog post? Maybe.

Weak conclusion? Yup.

Nightnight!

Love,

Blogster Barbie.

New Dorks, Nerdcore and Geek Tats, 0h m¥!

Geeksta Rap, Nerdcore Hip Hop, Filk – call it what you will (I call it Awesome Sauce). Nerdcore has become one of my favourite musical genres over the past year. Check out this gem that I just stumbled upon during one of my tumblr binges…

The geek is now damn cool :) Solid.

I jammed out to this track for the first time while walking to school the other day. I was like “YAH! YAH! SING IT BROTHER! OMG, SO TRUE! BWAHAHAHA!”

Like I’ve said before – I must look straight batty when I’ve got my headphones in.

Anyways, this song is so good that I put it on repeat for the walk home and got a little bit memorized. Productive, right?

Presenting “I’m not your personal I.T. Guy” by Devo Spice.


Shashashasha – do you love it???

I would like to take a moment to dedicate this song to all of the random people out there (don’t feel singled out – there are LOTS of you, trust) who send in emails asking me to “explain Twitter”; asking me how to adjust Facebook privacy settings; asking me how to “make a website”; asking me straight up if I can make a website for them.

Hey n00b – Let me f*cking Google that for you. That’s how I learned almost everything I know. Yes, I did do some programming in university, but I also built my first website when I was 14. It was hideous and had about a kajillion errors in the code, but I did it myself with the help of search engines, online tutorials and a whole lot of good ol’ fashioned right clickin’ source viewin’. I kept playing, reading, learning, and eventually… I got better at it. If I could figure out how to set up a mySQL database before I was old enough to drive a car, you should be able to change your password on Twitter by yourself… right? Or maybe not. Maybe I’m just a big ol’ jerk for thinking this way. keeheehee…

(Family members and homies, please take note – these comments are directed towards the randos. In other words, yes Mom, I will still burn your DVDs for you, and yes, friends, I will continue to guide you through the process of setting up your own blogs.)

I could rant on about this for a very long time, but I’ll spare you and just bask in my own self righteous smugness while you read the lyrics to Devo Spice’s phat little ditty:

I’m not your personal I.T. Guy

CHORUS : Click on help. (Call someone else!)
Or figure out how to freakin’ (Google it yourself!) (4 times)

I’m not your damn personal IT guy
I get no peace but at least now I see why
You ask me about computers, apparently I’m
The only person who knows how to turn the damn things on

Oh look, you can’t configure your Outlook again
Well maybe you should write the settings down, my friend
But that might require a little effort from you
And Mr. Big Shot has more important things to do
It’s fine if I have to explain it one time
But we’re at number 29 and I’m losing my mind

So I’ll just drop everything, deadlines be damned
And explain again though I know you’ll never understand
Close all of those windows, let’s begin
Click on this, click on that, now put your password in
See, you don’t need to be a total wiz
No, I don’t know what your password is

(chorus)

Why are your problems automatically mine
No, it’s fine, I’ve nothing better to do with my time
But it’s not like I ask you every day for help
When I make a dookie and I can’t wipe myself
So what were you trying to do when the error appeared?
Then I curse, ’cause it’s even worse than I feared
I see your PC is an ancient jalopy
And you’re trying to copy a DVD onto a floppy
First of all, where’d you even get a floppy disk?
‘Cause really, I didn’t think those things still exist
Secondly, I don’t want to be a spoil sport
But that’s an ethernet cable, that’s a USB port
If you buy something new and don’t know how to hook it up
It doesn’t make you less of a man to look it up
You claim you’re not an idiot, well prove me wrong
And stop giving me more material for this song

(chorus)

*beep*
“Hey Tom. I was wondering if you could help me out.
(Oh, here we go.)
I picked up a PC on ebay and got a great deal.
(Uh-huh.)
It’s a Pentium “eye-eye” with 16 “M.B.” of “R.A.M.”, whatever that is, and it’s running at 120 “M.H.Z.”
Is that fast? And I want to see about installing Windows 7 on it. Can you help me out with that?
(Bill Gates couldn’t help you do that.)
Anyway I got a great deal on it.
(No, you got ripped off.)
So I bought some songs from the Windows Media store and I can’t get them onto my iPhone.
(Of course.)
I was wondering if you could help me with that. Also I’m working with some pictures I took. I downloaded PhotoShop from this web site I found
(Oh no.)
and I can’t find the red-eye reduction button. Do you know where it is? Oh, and while I was on that web site I got an alert that my PC was infected with a virus, so I clicked on it and downloaded a bunch of software.
(You didn’t!)
So I should be protected now, but my PC seems to be running awfully slow all of a sudden.
(Well yeah, NOW you’re infected.)
I was wondering if you could give me a hand with that. Give me a call when you get this. (I most certainly will not!)
Thanks, Tom. Bye!

It happens every day, and I can’t get away
‘Cause they follow me around like a dog who wants to play
I know when my phone rings my day will be wrecked
When my boss says “Tom, can I see you for a sec?”
A second rapidly becomes an hour and a half
I would laugh, but I’m not part of the IT staff

So I don’t know what I’m doing, I just click around and curse
And pray to various gods that I don’t make the problem worse
Funny how I said before this day was gonna drag
Now I’m workin’ quick ’cause his cologne is making me gag
He says I have to fix it and it can’t wait till later
And somehow it’s my fault he never backed up his data
There’s still a couple quirks and it’s making me berzerker
Dammit Jim, I’m a Mac, not a miracle worker
And when I finally fix every problem he ever had
My uncle calls asking ’bout his son’s Leap Pad

(chorus) “

You can download the track for free at The Fump.

/basking

Ahhhh culture. Identity. Humans… I’m getting sleepy, don’t mind my brain vomit.

I think I’ll start to do a bit more research into this subculture. Like, beyond compulsively downloading and LOLing at singles. I’ll be producing a radio piece about it soon :) Oooh, maybe I can even host a screening of Nerdcore Rising as part of the project! I’ve been wanting to do that forever!

On a related note, I’ll also be writing a feature article on the big business of nerd merch for one of my elective classes (forthcoming). That’s going to be fun to write – and dangerous for my bank account.

I guess I really AM on the geek beat, eh? Happens to the best of us, I suppose. They say that journalists tend to gravitate towards what they know and what they’re interested in. I’m seeing a lot of this at J-school among my classmates already.

I guess it’s better to be known as the geeky tech girl than say, the middle eastern conflicts girl or the municipal politics girl, right?

Ideally, I’d be the go-to “hilarious interviewer of famous people / front row fashion show correspondent / professional television watching and frozen yogurt eating” girl. Maybe someday :)

Now, check out this sweet geeky ink if you please. I’ve always said I’d never go there, but who knows? Maybe when I mark a milestone or something I’ll shell out for a very subtle, not-visible-when-clothed version of something like this…

And I’ve always loved this…

OWIE!

I need to crashhhhh, jayze!

It’s been a long day. I worked on my trucker ladies documentary all morning, had class this afternoon, went to see Andrew Keen speak after school (effing suhWEET, btw – dedicated blog post on said talk forthcoming, if I can find the time), went back to the studio to do some more work, and then shuffled on home and well… here I am.

Gorgeous weather out there though, eh? I love me some pre-spring springyness :)

Something else fan-fecking-tastic? I’m winning the latest AXE gig challenge! Check it ootskis and enter it yourself, why don’t cha?

Eeee! :) This makes me restoopulous happy. If I stay in 1st place until the end of March, I’ll win something super super awesome. Something that’s almost as awesome as Nate Black.

Pyaw!

Night night, sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite, chugabeerhavesexwitheverybody, Vote Lauren for AXE, Don’t be a fool – stay in school.

<3 L

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