Slut-Shaming, Work Attire and General Anger

I work part time in a corporate office. Ideally I am trying to find some sort of media related job, anything to do with the media really, but for now it's good money and the people in my area are generally nice.

So, whilst at work the other day at work I overheard a fellow staff member, a woman, remark that 'A lot of people who work here look like prostitutes'.

Reflecting on Broadcast Journalism 2

How it felt: The Passing of the Carbon Price

It’s a mild, almost cold morning on 8 November 2011, with storm clouds brewing over Australia’s capital city. As I walk through the foyer I consider the seemingly historic day and the lack of tourists at Parliament. Usually here during sitting days for both houses, and used to seeing streams of tourists, staffers, school children and security, the main foyer seems empty and bare. The cool marble of the columns and staircases seem to echo with my rushed footsteps, as I hurry to check my bag and wait in line to enter the Senate public galleries. Ushered through security and directed to the right, I shuffle in and take my seat facing the government. Despite the supposed emptiness of Parliament House earlier, the galleries are almost full, buzzing with excitement. There is a mix of people here, the schoolchildren across the way in yellow polo shirts and blue shorts, not terribly interested in the jargon being spoken from the President of the Senate’s chair. There are political staffers, dressed in their suits and heels, clutching passes and watching the proceedings with great interest, the bill being passed representing late nights and unpaid overtime, coffee runs and hurried breakfasts. The gallery seems excited, looking around, watching intently. The Press Gallery by comparison, sits looking bored, with their phones and laptops out, tweeting the events unfolding to their loyal followers.