It was later that week, however, when I went out for a few drinks for my friend's birthday, that I heard some shocking news. Apparently, the birthday boy had been chatting to the editor of rival Edinburgh Student Newspaper The Journal, who expressed his concerns that his paper would never win a Student Media Award like "Student Newspaper of the Year", which they lost to The Student earlier this year.
What, prey tell, was the reason for his pessimism? Apparently he wasn't keen on our little waxing feature, saying that it was "that sort of thing that wins awards... three girls getting waxed and writing about it?! Well, at least I think they were girls... one of them was called Stevie!"
Wonderful critique, Mr Editor. And what happens to be your name?
Paris?
Says it all.
Now I actually quite like The Journal and since I've only been working with The Student for a short period of time, it's not like I feel a huge sense of rivalry or anything. I'd really rather we all just got along nicely. Paris, however, decided to get personal. Criticise my writing, if you like, and I'll take it on the chin. But my name? Really, Paris?
The reviews were funny, light-hearted and most of all, completely appropriate for the lifestyle page in a student newspaper. Perhaps if Paris could see past the end of his own nose he'd be able to embrace that sentiment and get a life. A student life.
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