made you look

Time flies when you have no social life

2012-01-29T00:23:00.000-08:00

The topic of blogs came up in a conversation between my friend, Tessa, and I recently. We'd been reading some particularly horrid ones and ones that were pure inspiration on a computer screen.

It got me thinking about my own blog and the neglect it had been subjected to this past year. I decided to pay my shunned child a visit and was quite shocked to find out that the last time I (properly) blogged was just over a year ago. This realisation made me feel both ashamed (as I had promised my handful of readers that I would get better at this) and somewhat numb by the fact that an entire year had passed!

So Tessa and I made a deal. I would write a post this week, and she would start her own blog, with the intention of sharing her gardening and cooking experiences. The idea is that we would encourage each other to post at least once every two weeks.

So, I figured, what better place to start than a follow-up on my year-ago (proper) post?

On 14 January 2011, I blogged that I had joined a gym. This was no small feat, considering my past gym/exercise experiences, and I wasn't convinced I would stick it out (money-saving incentives aside). Who would have thought that a year down the line I would be an avid spinner who hauled her ass to the chlorine-smelling establishment three times a week for some good ol' torture. I love it! And I do believe it's played a huge part in my stress management this past year.

Gym aside, I made some pretty big decisions in 2011, I discovered what I am capable of, changed jobs, and even got a bout of bad news, but nothing that a positive mindset can't cope with.

I decided early on in the year to go back to university. I started my Honours in Journalism after I got my degree in 2006, but dropped out after a month or two when I realised it wasn't for me. I remember my mom being very upset, I think she may have even cried. I promised her then that I would get my honours one day, although I wasn't entirely convinced myself at the time. Fast-forward six years and I finally decided to take the plunge. Deciding to study towards my Honours in Linguistics part-time while working full-time was absolutely terrifying. That being said, I am halfway through and I actually can't believe it, even if it did murder my social life. I start my second year next month and I'm actually excited. *Insert mental image of my teenage brother yelling 'nerd!'* It helped having the support of my husband and family as well as the encouragement of my professor to push through to Masters level. Hmmm, well.... no decision there, yet.

I also abandoned my comfortable position and the toxic environment of my previous job and started working for ITWeb. The people, the work, the appreciation was like chalk and cheese and I can't believe it took me so long to cut my losses and move on. They say we're creatures of habit and I do feel that returning to my old job in 2010 after spending nine months in London was probably not the smartest move I've made, but it was a necessary one. I'm glad I did because I had some epiphanies, the biggest of which is that one environment can produce the best of friends and the worst of enemies, but they're all life lessons I'm glad I signed up for, because they made me a stronger person and gave me the courage and confidence to change my path and seek a healthier environment.

I found out, too, in 2011 that I have arthritis in my right ankle. After my car accident of 2006, the doctor warned me that it would happen, I just wasn't expecting it to happen so soon. It was a bitter pill to swallow. I allowed myself to wallow in self-pity for a few weeks, but at the end of the day, I can still walk, I can still spin (whoopee!) and I have it mild compared to others. The arthritis hasn't bothered me much, I have uncomfortable days but I'll never admit to them. My grandmother, who never complained once while cancer ravaged her body, was a great inspiration to me. People have their own issues to deal with; they don't need to shoulder your burdens, too.

So as I enter another whirlwind year, I thought I'd change my blog design and my outdated profile picture. After years with raven hair, I also went red in 2011; they say everything happens in threes; apparently the same goes for life changes in one year. Time permitting, I'll try my best to stick to the one-post-every-two-weeks agreement, but I can't promise anything.

In the event that I don't, click through to some of my friends' inspirational blogs:

Jozibelle - Warrior mom in the city of gold - by Paula.

Food 101 by Michelle.

Tessa's to follow soon.

Viva 2012!

Virtual reality + real life = money spinner

2011-05-05T04:04:00.000-07:00

http://blog.coup.co.za/2011/05/virtual-reality-real-life-money-spinner/

I’ve never understood the Farmville craze. I’ll admit that I played Petville for oh, I don’t know, maybe a week, but the novelty wore off very quickly. The only lesson provided by the time and effort it took to keep a non-existent pet alive, decorate its living quarters and pick up its smelly socks and banana peels was to give me a taste of what it must be like living with a teenager. The fact that I got no love in return from my purple, vampire-toothed ‘dog’, other than a silly dance and a weird cooing sound when I fed it cake, cemented my hesitance to even think about having children.

Similarly, if I had to spend hours on end tending a farm I could never touch, planting carrots I could never eat and buying cows I could never milk, I would have to seriously question my mental state. I want to see the efforts of my, er, labour and get tangible results.

So when I first heard that 10 000 virtual farmers will be making decisions about a real farm in the UK, with real animals and real plants, I might have scoffed at the ridiculousness of it all. Are we really getting that lazy that we find it appealing to farm from behind a computer screen? For £30 a month, subscribers can make decisions ranging from which crops to grow to which livestock to rear on Wimpole Home Farm. I’m not kidding.

Partly inspired by Farmville, “subscribers will be expected to make key decisions on which crops to plant, which animals to buy and whether to put in measures such as new hedgerows to help wildlife. They will be asked to make 12 major monthly decisions during the course of the year as well as other choices”. Dame Fiona Reynolds , director-general of National Trust, which is managing the farm, said the scheme was “all about reconnecting people with farming, giving them the chance to get involved with and feel part of the farming community and farming life and give them a greater understanding on how the food they eat gets to their shopping basket”.

While you could probably convince me to play this version of Farmville before I venture into Petville land again (I’m sure my dog must be dead by now, I can’t even remember his name), it still smacks a bit of a money-making scheme. If the initiative were to attract the desired 10 000 subscribers, that would bring in £300 000 (R3 290 618.45 at current exchange rates) a year. That’s quite a pretty penny for a farm that is reported as being “currently commercially self-sustaining”. Why didn’t I think of this?!

We were warned about this – that virtual reality would one day merge with real life. It seems Second Life was onto something all along. I wonder if the virtual farmers get a slice of the produce pie? Seems a bit unfair to expect them to pay an annual fee and not get at least a pint of milk in return.

What are your thoughts on the translation of virtual reality into real life? Do you think initiatives such as this will be successful?

It’s a Royal Wedding tsunami! (And we’re all in the way)

2011-05-05T01:19:00.002-07:00

http://blog.coup.co.za/2011/04/royalweddingtsunami/

When I first heard that Wills and Kate were taking the ultimate plunge, I can’t say I reacted any differently to how I would react if I were told that ‘Brangelina’ were splitting and reclaiming their own identities. Who cares? Well, apparently, quite a lot of people.

What I didn’t expect was that the grand event would take place so soon after the engagement, but when you have an entire staff complement attending to your most basic of needs, and you don’t need to fret about the flowers, the dress, the bridesmaids’ dresses, the DJ, the venue, the menu, the minister, the rings, the invitations, the seating arrangements, the wedding favours, (can you tell I’ve got the ‘been there, done that’ wedding T-shirt?) then why not just get it over and done with … and when you’re the hottest Royal couple of the moment, the pressure to deliver is enormous.

And so we stare down the steamroller that is the 29 April Royal Wedding and we ask, again, why all the fuss? If we were guaranteed that the ceremony would play out like the one mobile operator, T-Mobile, put together, then I’d shamelessly admit that I’d be the one with the biggest box of popcorn, sitting a metre away from the television screen, because seeing Prince Charles shimmy down the aisle is a priceless moment in itself, never mind the duo of the hour!

The internet has gone Royal Wedding mad. Even though there is an official Royal Wedding website and a dedicated YouTube Royal Channel, there are still those out there hoping to make a quick buck off the event. BrewDog, a UK brewer, has even concocted a very special ale to commemorate the occasion – drinking just three bottles of Royal Virility Performance, with the tagline ‘Arise Prince Willy’, is equivalent to taking one Viagra pill (I foresee a lot of babies named Kate and William in nine months’ time).

The official YouTube Channel features a wedding book where anyone can upload a personal message or video, and while I suspect that the prince and his new princess will never have enough time in the world to watch hours of rehashed good wishes from strangers, I do like the fact that they’ve opened up their Charitable Gift Fund to the public – at least one sensible thing will come of the obsessive insanity.

In the past month, Yahoo! noted a 1 523% increase in internet searches related to the Royal Wedding, prompting it to set up its own website dedicated to the wedding, featuring everything from news to videos to photo galleries to a guestbook (because we’re all invited, apparently), oh, and an advert by Spur – clever! Because when predictions are that more than two-billion people will be watching the event, compared to just 750-million who watched Charles and Diana’s wedding in 1981 (how the digital world has changed the real world!), strategic ad placement will get you everywhere.

Us South Africans can’t scoff at the absurdness of it all – we’re just us guilty of rubbernecking. Howzit MSN launched its Royal Wedding special content on 9 April and recorded 500 000 page views in its first week! Compare this to only 200 000 hits for the month for the cricket page that was put up for the World Cup. Tut tut.

If you are one of the few that haven’t been swept up in the Royal Wedding wave, first of all, well done! Second of all, prepare to be force-fed come 29 April, because that’s all that will be on TV, social media, radio and the internet. NewsTime reports, “The BBC will deploy at least 550 staff on the day, using about 100 cameras in Westminster Abbey and along the procession route to provide a live feed to dozens of countries and footage to many more. About 140 broadcast trucks are expected to set up in Green Park near Buckingham Palace and 48 television studios have been purpose-built nearby in what is thought to be [the] largest outside broadcast ever seen.”

Oh dear.

I’m pretty sure there was something else happening on 29 April. Something with a lot more significance than the wedding of the decade…?

Oh yes, that’s right, 29 April is the shuttle Endeavour’s final mission to the International Space Station. I wonder if there are any news crews available to cover it?

The rise and rise of Zulu

2011-05-05T01:19:00.000-07:00

http://blog.coup.co.za/2011/04/the-rise-and-rise-of-zulu/

Higher Education Minister Blade Nzimande kicked up a stink this week when he proposed that all university degrees include an African language as part of their programmes of study. As a condition for graduating, all students would need to learn an African language.

Personally, I think it’s an excellent idea as it champions the cause of minority language rights. The problem, however, is that while it’s great in theory, actually implementing this might prove tricky. Perhaps a better option would be to start with the teaching of additional languages at the primary school level, rather than expect students who have been speaking one or two languages for the past 20-odd years to suddenly pick up an additional language – and be able to speak it coherently by the time their three-year degrees come to an end.

That being said, if given a choice, which language would you choose? I’m going with Zulu.

By no means a minority language, Zulu has been quite prolific in the media space in the past six months, especially the online space. It all started in November last year when Sunday Times launched a Zulu edition – a language spoken by 50% of the South African population and is the mother tongue of 24% of the population, according to the Pan SA Language Board.

In March this year, it was reported that News24 had followed suit, launching a Zulu version of its popular news service, offering the latest in headlines, sport, finance and weather. Just days later, it was reported that Mozilla’s Firefox Web browser (which is already available in North Sotho) had been customised by translators to support Zulu. I’m beginning to see a pattern here…

A recent article by AFP reported that while most South African print media are battling declining circulations and an advertising drought, Zulu-language papers are flourishing, with more titles appearing and sales rising. TakeIsolezwe, for example, which was launched in 2002 and is now South Africa’s third most popular newspaper, according to the Audit Bureau of Circulation. Sales of its daily edition topped 104 000 last year; and at R2.80 a copy, it’s hardly surprising – quality news at an affordable price.

I’m hoping to see some of our minority languages afforded the same recognition at some stage. And if, in so doing, it means including African languages in university modules, then I’m 100% for it.

Vodacom advertising goes ‘viral’

2011-05-05T01:18:00.004-07:00

http://blog.coup.co.za/2011/05/vodacom-advertising-goes-viral/

Vodacom is getting a lot of things right lately. I blogged a few weeks ago about how much I enjoyed Vodacom’s re-branding adverts, with my colleague, Kerryn le Cordeur, reporting on how Vodacom set the wheels of the ‘red bandwagon’ in motion, with the likes of Virgin Active and Dulux scrambling for a sliver of the limelight and basking in the glow of the awesomeness that is Vodacom.

I thought the Vodacom hype was simmering down, and then it comes out with this. Vodacom’s new TV advert embraces everything that is good about social media and viral advertising and makes it that much cooler. In the latest offering, Marcus (who looks to be around 11 or 12) takes delivery of his brand new Vodacom phone. He turns the phone’s camera on himself, marches into his bedroom, props the phone up and proceeds to make a video. But this isn’t just any old video. It features more South African celebrities than a bumper issue of Heat magazine. And if his huge brown eyes don’t get you, Marcus with the raucous’ rapping skills certainly will – as will his uncanny ability to make celebrities such as HHP, Loyiso, Freshlyground, Corné and Twakkie, Prime Circle, Tamara Dey, Elvis Blue and Gang of Instrumentals literally crawl out of the cracks of his room and morph from his linen.

The clever word play (“And I get what I want, even got digits for Tanya van Graan; but I stay freshly-grounded and the girls just really, really like it”) and good-sport celebrities dancing around in sleeping bags, singing into desk lamps and zooting around the room on office chairs make this the exact kind of video I like to share with my friends – it’s catchy, has familiar faces and is just so damn clever!

And you know what they say about videos shared by friends – people tend to watch them for three times longer than if they had stumbled across it themselves (read Leigh Andrews’ article on what makes a video go viral).

The ad opens as if it’s a regular YouTube video, zooming in when it has received just fewer than 100 views. At the end of the ad, after Ross from Prime Circle spins Marcus’ chair around and all the featured celebs cram into the screenshot, the camera zooms out again, putting the viewing tally at nearly 28-million.

I suspect Vodacom won’t need to spend too much money airing this ad on TV. I’ve already forced everyone in the office to watch it and a friend of mine on Facebook has declared his intention to adopt Marcus. That is, not if I get to him first.

Re-branding: Vodacom gets it right

2011-05-05T01:18:00.002-07:00

http://blog.coup.co.za/2011/04/rebranding-vodacomgetsitright/

For the most part, Vodacom did a damn fine job keeping its new branding under wraps until the official launch on 1 April. Granted, we all pretty much knew that it was going to adopt the colours of its parent company, Vodafone; that it was going to be red; and that it might, too, adopt Vodafone’s logo.

What we weren’t expecting, however, was the sheer brilliance in the execution of the rebranding and the enormous creativity behind it. I was feeling rather unmotivated at the offering on Sunday prime time television last night, there was nothing interesting to watch and I was considering bundling myself off to bed for an early night … until I saw the first Vodacom rebrand ad, and the next, and the next. I was convinced to sit through hours of boring programming in the hopes that, during the ad breaks, I would catch another one that I hadn’t seen yet.

The genius ad campaign saw Vodacom bring together characters of adverts past, including Bankole Omotoso (Yebo Gogo!), Michael de Pina, Trevor Gumbi (“Are you free, or are you dom?”), Daddy Cool and that crazy dancing meerkat, among others. In pairs of two (or alone, if you’re a meerkat), they sit in a blue room with a bucket of red paint and proceed to splash said paint all over the blue wall via rather, erm, creative methods, from catapulting themselves into the wall, to shooting paintballs at it, to falling off scaffolding and accidently splashing the wall, to kicking paint bombs at a mock rugby post. The thirteen-second ads are perfect in length, each featuring different, amusing content, and each with a familiar face that forces you to draw on past Vodacom ads.

Besides the brilliant TV and print ads, Vodacom effectively executed its rebranding strategy on the ground, too. At the press briefing on Friday night, CEO Pieter Uys was looking rather spiffy in his red golf shirt and the new red branding was already visible on the sporting field when the Vodacom Blue Bulls took on the Wellington Hurricanes in a Super 15 match in New Zealand. New Zealand! They even got the branding right in another country! The Bulls won, in case you were wondering…

Compared to Cell C’s re-branding, Vodacom is streets ahead, including the entire Vodacom family in the event, as opposed to employing a random comedian (don’t get me wrong, I love your work, Trevor) as its “brand ambassador”. It somehow made it more real to me.

My husband pointed out that he’d noticed I was partial to short, funny ads that have different content (And no, Outsurance’s Invisible Man does not count), so maybe I’m biased, but hey, if it works, it works.

Nicely played, Vodacom. More Power to You.

The Oxford English Dictionary has gone loco!

2011-05-05T01:18:00.000-07:00

http://blog.coup.co.za/2011/04/oxford-dictionary-has-gone-loco/

OMG! Did you hear about the tanorexic gazillionaire who was wearing a mankini over budgie smugglers while having a looky-loo at the bajillion retweets on Twitter? Fnarr fnarr! At the same time, he was eating a sammie, muttering “nom nom”. TMI for you?

It’s a sad day for grammarians when the Oxford English Dictionary adds words that usually only form part of a teenager’s vocabulary to its official lexicon. It’s an even worse day when it accepts SMS acronyms as proper words. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it is now acceptable to use LOL and OMG in every-day writing.

While we at COUP are thrilled at the addition of words such as ‘bloggable’ and ‘retweet’, we cry quietly at the thought of SMS-speak tainting our copy.

Funnily enough, I recently wrote a university assignment on whether language practitioners felt that the enforcement of correct language usage was good or bad. One of the focus areas was the use of SMS-speak in areas other than the cellphone. Not surprisingly, just about all the respondents vehemently opposed its use – some believe it doesn’t even belong in SMSes. COUP Content Editor, Marie Straub, said, “SMS speak is a pet hate of mine. I even avoid it when SMSing. I don’t think it is acceptable outside of SMSing. Also, with a vast number of young people using SMS- and internet-speak in their online communications (which are increasing all the time), their grammar is suffering, with spelling following fast behind.” Kerryn le Cordeur, Deputy Editor of Media Update, believes SMS-speak “dumbs down” communication; while Bronwyn Raitt, a teacher, believes that SMS-speak is making people lazy and that it is a disgrace to the English language. Another concern raised by language practitioner Kate Wright is that the addition of ‘OMG’ to the Dictionary somehow made blasphemy acceptable, too.

I tend to agree with all of the above.

On the other hand, should we not be happy that our wonderful language is changing with the times and is accommodating new terms and phrases? Being a language practitioner myself, I might come across as biased when I say that the addition of new words thrills me – provided they are useful! Andragogy, avoision, calligram, recessionista (look them up) – all new words added to the Dictionary and all excellent! However, when it comes to boo-yah and woot, I feel the need to assume the foetal position and rock slowly from side-to-side.

What are your thoughts? A boon for the English language or the beginning of the end of a literate society?

A movie-type trailer for a book? I’d rather judge it by its cover…

2011-05-05T01:17:00.001-07:00

http://blog.coup.co.za/2011/03/booktrailer/

I’m the first to admit that I never read the entire blurb of any book or DVD. My judgement starts with the cover (shallow, I know), after which I’ll flip the book/DVD in question over and skim over the blurb, looking for words that jump out, like ‘psychopath’, ‘controversy’, and ‘scandal’.

So when I heard that there was a movie-like trailer punting Mike Nicol’s new book, Black Heart, I got a little giddy – my laziness had reached a new level; or rather, technology had leveraged my laziness to a new level, as seems to be occurring more and more these days.

I have to admit, though, I was slightly disappointed. The trailer wasn’t very forthcoming with clues as to what the story is about, other than revenge. Something somebody did in the past was coming back to haunt said person as another person wants revenge. Not vague at all. The trailer also tells us that Black Heart is the third book in Nicol’s Revenge Trilogy. Thanks for that, but for someone who has never read a Nicol novel; this is not much use to me. Right now there are a million possibilities running through my mind as to what the revenge centres on. A love triangle? A business deal gone awry? A beauty queen bitter that an opponent sabotaged the dress she was meant to wear in the Evening Gown walk?

I tracked down the actual blurb and it goes something like this: Sheemina has a vendetta against security operative, Mace, who is in a spot of trouble himself, as his partner has been shot and a foreigner under their protection has been kidnapped. “In the final part of Mike Nicol’s Revenge Trilogy the hidden hand of Sheemina February is everywhere. Her finger tightening on the trigger.”

I was nowhere close, apparently.

My modus operandi is as follows – pick up eye-catching book (and yes, I would’ve picked up Black Heart, based on its cover), take note of words that ‘pop’, open book on random page and read a few sentences to get a feel for the writer’s style, then either put the book back on the shelf or tuck it under my arm and mosey on to the tills. This experience was obviously missing in trailer format and that, for me, is a big deciding factor with regards to whether I want to read a book or not.

That being said, I wouldn’t discount the idea of trailers-for-books completely. With better execution, it could definitely work. Perhaps the characters in the trailer could actually say something as this could convey a sense of the writer’s style to a degree. Also, the trailer needs context. As mentioned above, I had no idea what the book was about based solely on watching the trailer and had to hunt down the blurb for more information.

Or maybe I just put way too much thought into the whole process. What do you think of trailers for books?

Put down your sandwich...

2011-01-14T06:53:00.000-08:00

I've joined a gym.

Don't say I didn't warn you before you guffawed with a mouth full of food. I'll wait while you dislodge the morsel from your throat...

All better? Good.

Signing my unhealthy life away on the dotted line at the bottom of the gym contract was not something I imagined myself doing. Ever. Sure, I've been a gym member before, but that was back in the day when daddy was paying and nobody really cared if I went or not.

But now I have no choice. If I don't gym at least 10 times a month, I have to pay the full membership fee, which borders on, *gulp*, R500 a month. However, the more I gym, the less I pay - you gotta love these medical aid incentive programmes - talk about motivation!

And even though I inked the deal on 1 January, this was by no means a New Year's resolution - who makes those any more, anyway?

I have to say it though, the sceptic in me has been delivered a hearty kick up the arse by the gym bunny I never knew lived inside me. I'm actually enjoying it and the novelty hasn't warn off yet - two weeks in! This is some kind of record, I'm sure! Even though it hurts like hell, I'm loving my stiff thighs and the extra effort it takes to lift the tomato sauce bottle ever since those push-ups two days ago. It also helps having a fitness freak for a sister and a three-year-old nephew that can't get enough of the kids' club.

Although I don't want to speak too soon and jinx my positivity, I think I'm going to stick this one out. Ask me again in six months though, I might just be swiping my gym card to buy a smoothie from the in-gym Kauai and then walking straight out again with a sheepish, guilt-ridden face. After all, the medical aid just counts how often the card is swiped, not how long you spent in the gym...

The gods are telling me something

2010-11-22T08:12:00.000-08:00

I either need to change my working hours or change my job. My mother thinks I should just change the route I take to work, but where's the fun in that?

Why the drastic steps? Well, this morning, on my way to the grindstone at the ridiculous hour of 05:15, I see flashing lights from a police car in the distance. Thinking nothing of it, I continue on my not-so-merry Monday way. This is South Africa after all, flashing police lights are as common as red buses in London.

The vehicle to which said flashing lights belong to, without warning, ramps up the centre island and spews out two officers wielding menacing firearms and just as menacing facial expressions. Expressions that tell me I should probably stop my car in the middle of a main road (so what if it's 05:15 and there's no traffic!) to let them cross. At least one cop said thank you ... And that's when the guns were in the air, shouts of "Get down!" filled the otherwise peaceful morning and two rather bewildered blokes quietly surrendered as they stared down the barrel of an AK47. I would, too.

Praying that the guys on the barrel-end of the gun wouldn't draw their own weapons, rendering me a victim of collateral damage, I eased my car around the officer and continued on my way. Ah, just another day in sunny SA.

So why the need to change my route, you ask?

See this is not the first time I've been an almost-victim of crime on my way to work. I was once nearly involved in a smash-and-grab and have also been pushed off the road by a government vehicle.

I think the gods are trying to tell me something. Like, why, oh why, are you up at stupid 'o clock every morning, you stupid woman?!

The kinds of kicks up the arse I need...

2010-07-10T03:40:00.000-07:00

My dear friend Kate recently lambasted me for not updating my blog often enough. She usually gives me a roasting at least once a month. I appreciate these tellings-off, because if it weren't for the constant reminding, I would probably forget about the blog altogether. Plus ... it's nice to know that someone is actually reading it! :-)

So ... I know I've said this before, but I will try be better at this blog-keeping thing.

Now, if only I had something to write about...

How to make yourself smarter, for dummies

2010-01-21T01:28:00.000-08:00

I have always admired my husband for being a hive of what I call "useless information". He always seems to know something about everything, from the history of most countries, to the inner workings of computers - topics that the average person (read: me) would have to research or seek help on.

And this makes me jealous.

I want to know useless information! I want to appear to be the smart one in conversations, rather than the one making silent mental notes to read up on Abraham Lincoln upon hearing his name to find out just what made him so special.

And so I have made a New Year's resolution. I have decided to research at least two topics of interest a week in an attempt to broaden my general knowledge base and give me the upper hand in intelligent conversations.

I'm starting with Abe Lincoln (who apparently detested being called "Abe"). I always knew that he was an American president; what I did not know is that he was the first American president to be assassinated and was responsible for the abolishment of slavery in the States. Mmmm ... so that's what made him famous!

I have a feeling I'm going to stick this resolution out. If all goes according to plan, I would have researched 98 topics by the end of the year (bearing in mind that I've already missed out on three weeks). Ask me this time next year what my favourite website is and I imagine it will be Wikipedia, and not Facebook!

Next research topic: the Berlin Wall!

If there was ever a time to bite your tongue...

2010-01-15T01:39:00.000-08:00

I receive a daily newsletter from back home, purely because I want to keep up with the goings on in my home country. It's usually pretty standard: crime, car accidents, corrupt officials, police abuse, electricity prices, etc.

However, this morning's newsletter left me absolutely gob-smacked. Under the "most read" section was an article on a school in Port Elizabeth that was held up by thugs, who made off with a substantial amount of cash - the day's takings in school fees.

For starters, I want to know why this story was in the "most read" section, rather than the "news you should know" or "top stories" sections? Has South Africa become that much accustomed to violent crime that incidents of terrorists waltzing into schools with loaded guns are only afforded a mere mention?

This is not the source of my shock, however. A very smart police captain was quoted as saying, "I can't divulge the amount of money because criminals will now know they can make easy money from schools." Who says that?! Well done, Captain Rheeder, you didn't need to divulge the amount, you just single-handedly made every school in the country vulnerable to attack. You should be downplaying the amount or, better yet, not even mentioning the money!

Is it not enough that thugs have taken away our children's right to play in parks and streets without fear?

Now, thanks to poorly-chosen words, criminals have education by the throat also. Way to go, Captain.

I suck at this

2010-01-14T07:09:00.001-08:00

I have come to the realisation that I am terrible at keeping a blog. My mind is full of topics to write about, but when I actually sit down to write about them, they suddenly sound silly. Abraham Lincoln was wise when he said, "Tis better to be silent and to be thought a fool, than to speak and remove all doubt."

So, I thought of turning my blog into a sort of online diary, but it would be selfish exposing readers to my mindless diatribes about trying to find Wellies that actually fit and look cool at the same time, or about my attempts to lose weight and get fit ... using the Wii.

Then again, my ramblings might be amusing to some of you, so I guess I'll never know unless I try. Behold, dear readers, part one of my blog-turned-diary. I expect comments. Lots of them. Good and bad.

I am sad to report that my hopes for studying further in the UK have been dashed. The procrastinatory (yes, I know that's not a word) side of my personality saw to it that I left it too late to book the photography course I was so keen on and all the spaces were taken up. Strike one.

Not to worry, I have the Indesign course to fall back on, which is more important and relevant to my career aspirations anyway. This time I made sure I called well in advance to secure my seat. "I'm sorry," said the lady on the other end of the line, "but that course has been cancelled due to a lack of interest." Great. I'm being punished for being lax in booking the photography course. Strike two.

Hmmmm....well, there's always the web design course. Not my first choice, but something that will still look good on my CV, right? Wrong. Turns out that this course is out of my price range so that idea was shelved. Strike three and you're out.

I wonder if future employers will hold it against me that I will not have worked in my field for nine months by the time I get home and start looking again?

I have a broom, therefore I am a street sweeper

2009-10-27T08:53:00.000-07:00

Seeing as though I'm not putting my Journalism degree to use in London, I figured I would look into short courses that would broaden my knowledge and would hopefully stand me in good stead when I do go job hunting in my field again.

I was amazed at the sheer volume of courses available to me - and all affordable and within reach! The difference between the South African and British governments is that the latter wants its citizens to study and be the best they can be when it comes to education and supporting themselves and their families. Every council has an adult education centre where one can study anything from basic computer skills to street cleaning. Yes, street cleaning.

Apparently, cleaning streets is not just about sweeping rubbish into stormwater drains and then taking a nap on the freshly-cut grass. Nosiree. To be able to proudly call yourself a street cleaner in London, you need to be able to assess the area to be cleaned, know which cleaning products to use, know which litter needs to be segregated, know the proper procedures for emptying out bins and be able to identify problems and report them to the council. And I haven't even touched on health and safety procedures yet.

Becoming a taxi driver in London doesn't involve buying a licence and finding a people carrier that's in semi-working order. London's Black Cab drivers take great pride in their jobs (although you wouldn't say so judging from the amount of obscenities that are shouted from those particular vehicles). They often choose that career because their fathers and grandfathers were drivers. It's a generation thing. And it's not easy. Cabbies have to study for an average of two years before they can start carting passengers around. They need to be knowledgeable in London's 25 000 streets and know where all the tourist hotspots, hospitals and places of worship are; not to mention the best place to get a chicken burger at 3am.

I've come to realise that South Africans have it easy in the sense that they can pick up a hammer and call themselves a builder; yet they have it extremely tough because there is no support from the government. Further education institutions are mostly private, charging R3000 for a course I can do in London for R700. It seems almost criminal, really. Education should be free to everyone - and should be of a superior quality. If half the South Africans were trained to do their jobs properly from the start, perhaps half our problems would be solved.

All I know is that I hope to take full advantage of London's adult education system while I am lucky enough to be in a position to afford and appreciate it. First course: photography. Because I want to know how a camera really works and because my pride won't let me pick up a camera and call myself a photographer.

I don’t want to miss a thing

2009-09-08T14:19:00.001-07:00

I’ve come under a lot of pressure lately from people I know, and people I don’t, to relocate to London permanently. While the thought has crossed my mind on numerous occasions, when I think about it, there’s more pulling me back to South Africa than there is keeping me in London.

Truth be told, I can’t wait to go home. To hug my family, to snuggle my pets, to be silly with my friends… While I am loving (almost) every minute here, home really is where the heart is.

I worry every day that I am being selfish in not wanting to forget everything and stay. My husband loves it here (actually, I think ‘love’ isn’t a strong enough word), and while I acknowledge that there probably are better opportunities for the both of us, I’m just not getting excited about the prospects. For hubby, London is the obvious choice: his line of work is more accepted and mainstream; he has access to virtually any artist and is learning amazing things from them; and everything he wants, whether it be a new machine or fancy inks, is in reach for him – both physically and financially. It’s no longer just a pipe dream.

Granted, I could probably say the same for myself. I probably COULD get a fantastic job; I probably COULD get some awesome experience; I probably COULD earn a half-decent salary, but I couldn’t be bothered to go out and look for it. Perhaps I’m too scared that something good will come along and then I won’t WANT to leave – that terrifies me.

Being in London for three months, I have missed two friends’ weddings, another friend’s pregnancy and, most importantly, my nephew growing up, my brother’s first real girlfriend and the most exciting time of my sister’s life. I am petrified that something should happen to someone close to me in SA while I am here, and I won’t be able to say that I spent their last few months with them or that I was there to experience something thrilling in their lives. While this is something I could probably overlook until early next year when we are due to come home, it’s not something I could live with permanently. I don’t want to miss out on the important things.

Yes, the transport here is super-efficient, but I miss my car and not having to rely on bus schedules. Yes, it’s great not having to worry about crime, but I’m still convinced it’s a false sense of security. Yes, there is a ton of cool stuff to do and places to go, but I miss not having my best friends around to share it with. Yes, anything is accessible, whether it be a fancy flatscreen or the latest iPhone, but I miss good old family time minus the material bullshit.

I want to live a life where my sister is just a phone call away, I can pop over to my folks’ whenever I want to, and have a handful of close friends over for some good laughs. I don’t care about free medical, once-a-year insurance and super-fast trains.

That's not important to me. Family is and I don’t want to miss a thing.

A life lesson learnt – from an animal

2009-08-16T09:16:00.001-07:00

I was gutted to learn the other day that Sam the Koala had died.

Those that follow the news will remember the devastating Australian fires of last year. We were flooded with heart-wrenching stories about kangaroos with burnt paws, tortoises with melted shells, baby wallabies with burnt ears and birds dropping from the skies because of the fires – a result of suspected arson. God, how selfish we humans are. And yet Sam served as a beacon of hope when she shimmied up to a fire-fighter and accepted a drink from his water bottle. If nothing else, I’ll bet that very moment made the burnt lungs and hours of tireless work worth it for this fire-fighter. Apparently, koalas aren’t the friendliest of creatures.

I remember crying after seeing pictures of Sam with her singed paws all bandaged up; and then laughing when I read that she had met a boyfriend, Bob, at the shelter where she was recovering. Despite the hundreds of lost lives, the miles of burnt forest, and the thousands of devastated lives, the story of Sam made it all somewhat easier to accept. It was no longer about loss and suffering; but about a lesson that one precious animal had to teach us humans: that, yes, shit happens, but it’s up to us to make the most of the shit situations, even if it means getting off our high horses and accepting a little assistance from someone we normally wouldn’t give the time of day to.

The Piercing Bible – a review

2009-08-11T13:48:00.001-07:00

A review I was asked to write on The Piercing Bible by Elayne Angel.

Thank the powers that be for Elayne Angel! Her book, The Piercing Bible, is a must-read for anyone considering this art form as a career, anyone thinking of getting pierced, anyone who is already pierced and everyone in-between.

Elayne leaves no stone unturned in this thoroughly researched guide to safe body piercing. She delves into the history of piercing and the effect this has had, and will likely have, on many generations, before exploring it in its current form as well as its future possibilities. From deciding what to pierce, to finding an accomplished and conscientious piercer; from hygiene issues to piercing trouble-shooting, Elayne has touched on it all.

Being relatively new to the art, I found myself starved for solid, trustworthy information and, with decades of experience under her belt, Elayne shares a wealth of knowledge, dispels many misconceptions and offers sound advice from the effects your new piercing could have on society’s perceptions of you to lifestyle changes that might be necessary if you want to live in harmony with your piercing. The book also discusses different jewellery styles and sizes, equipment used during the different procedures, stretching of piercings, retiring of piercings, problems that may arise, and special situations such as breastfeeding and sex that may be compromised, or enhanced, by the piercing.

The industry has waited a long time for this book and, after reading it, you might be able to tell your doctor a thing or two about infection control, blood-borne pathogens and cross-contamination.

The right to die

2009-07-27T12:10:00.000-07:00

There's a big hoo-ha in London at the moment about assisted suicide and the right to die, as well as the ethics surrounding it.

This comes after the Royal College of Nursing moved to a neutral position on assisted suicide (from being opposed to it) and has called for more guidance on the issue. Understandably, this has opened up an entire can of worms and has sparked a heated debate focusing more on terminally ill patients than on highly-strung teenagers who off themselves for random reasons.

This got me thinking - who are we to tell a person who is living in agony that they have to continue living in agony until they die naturally? Surely if that person's quality of life has no chance of improving, it is entirely their choice whether they want to end it or stick it out? Personally, I think the bone of contention here is the word "assisted". Granted, it is quite a morbid thought that someone would help a family member commit suicide and this would undoubtedly have knock-on effects for the former's mental health, but again, is it not a matter of choice? If the family member is convinced that he or she will be better off, and they are comfortable with helping, then why not?

Ironically, humans are quick to euthanize an animal who falls deathly ill - are the animals ever asked if they want to live or die? No. And that's because we believe they can't make those kinds of decisions for themselves (not taking into account the fact that we can't communicate with them, of course). But the difference is that humans CAN think for themselves and if they want to die, if they KNOW they do not want to live out the last few months or years of their lives in pain and uncomfort, why put up barriers? They'd do it themselves if they had the means to anyway. We had a Boxer who I was hopelessly attached to and, in his old age, he developed a heart defect. The poor animal could not walk or breathe properly and lay, slowly dying, on the dining room floor. My dad made the difficult decision to put him down even though the vet said that with a traumatic operation and feeding him pills everyday, "he might last another six months". Why do that to him? Is it not more cruel to force him to live another six months in pain than to kiss and hug him and wish him well on his journey to doggie heaven?

While discussing the topic with friends the other day, one brought up the issue of abortion and referred also to animals whose lives are snuffed out without a second thought if they are born with a disability. He believes that it should be ok to abort a human baby who is going to be born mentally disabled and will never have a chance at a normal life. While I have never thought of it in this way before, I think he has a point.

Concerns have been raised that if assisted suicide was legalised in the UK, then the elderly would feel pressured into committing suicide, rather than becoming a burden to family members as they lose the ability to care for themselves. While incontinence may not be pleasant, it definitely should not fall into the same disability category as being permanently paralysed or brain damaged from a car accident. I know that if I had become a vegetable as a result of my accident, I would look back on my life, say it was a good one; and then ask for kisses and hugs and well wishes as I continued with my journey to the after-life.

But maybe that's just me.

Say what?

2009-07-12T13:06:00.001-07:00

The Brits and I seem to be having some trouble understanding each other. Up until a few weeks ago, I honestly thought the South African accent was one of the easiest to understand. Apparently not. Neither is the British accent.

I started realising this while going about my daily working activities. Most of our piercings cost 30 quid; but whenever I tell this to the Brits, nine times out of ten, they hear 50. It’s not easy correcting them when they’re already in a state of shock – £50 for a piercing?! “No, no,” I say, “It’s thirty, three-oh, thirty.” They look back at me, their faces blank, they’re still hearing thirty. Now I have said the words ‘thirty’ and ‘fifty’ over and over to myself, but I’m not hearing the similarities – even if I pronounce them with a British twang.

One of my recent misunderstandings definitely deserves ‘priceless’ status. I walked into a coffee shop and asked how much their filter coffee costs. The dude behind the counter looked at me as if I’d just crawled out of a piece of particularly smelly cheese and said, “Photo copies?!” Yes – that’s what I said. I walked into a coffee shop and asked for photo copies. Right.

Besides struggling to get used to the accent here, I’m still trying to adapt to the different names they have for some things. For instance, it’s not a pram, but a “buggy”; it’s not an ATM, but a “hole in the wall” (?!); it’s not lip-ice, but “lip balm; and it’s not a braai, but a barbeque.

I definitely am not used to being called “love” and “mate”; while I’m still not sure how or if I’m supposed to respond to the standard greeting of “All right - (insert above-mentioned ‘love’ or ‘mate’ here)?” Rhetorical question, perhaps?

If somebody gets you “nicked”, they’re reporting you to the police; if somebody tells you, “See you next Tuesday,” they’re not being polite; and a Yorkie is not a small dog.

I guess it just takes a little time to get used, ‘innit?

How do you take your Smarties?

2009-07-05T12:42:00.001-07:00

So I heard via the grapevine that Nestle has relaunched Smarties in SA sans artificial colouring – and that the end product is dull and tasteless. While this brings SA in line with the UK in terms of taste and colour, there are a lot more options available in London, making them a bit easier to, erm, swallow.

So how would you like your Smarties?

As they are? (Smarties come in a tube here, not a box).

In a packet of tubes?

Or just in a packet?

Perhaps in the form of cake bars?

Or maybe cookies?

How about mini bites?

Or just plain mini?

If you’re more partial to ice-cream, you have three options to choose from:

Or maybe you prefer yoghurt?

Planning a birthday party? Like Smarties? At least you don’t have the cake to worry about!

Or the cupcakes…

Or even the doughnuts…

But if that STILL doesn’t cut it, you can just make them yourself.

Wotalotigot!

There’s a heat wave in London!

2009-07-01T11:23:00.001-07:00

I never thought I’d be saying this, but good grief it’s hot in London! The temperatures have been stifling over the last few days with no one knowing where to shove their heads to hide from the sun and extreme humidity.

As I write this, my house-mate is hosing down his cat and dog to provide some much-needed relief to the poor animals. Children and the elderly have been advised to stay indoors and the truth of the matter is that I don’t think London is prepared for heat like this.

Before we left home, everyone was harping on about how cold London is and how we’re not going to manage; but the difference is that London is actually prepared for winter: insulated houses, central heating, thermal clothing, thermal blinds, built-in heaters, the list is endless; but come summer and its sweltering temperatures and everyone seems to have been taken by surprise.

Every single shop we went to in search of a fan or air conditioner was sold out and despite being told by shop attendants that they would not be getting new stock anytime soon, the steaming Brits still stared intensely at the shelves, biting their fingernails as if some would magically appear.

The local weather service, Met Office, has issued a level three (out of four) heat wave alert – the first time it has done so since June 2006 – with temperatures expected to hit some 32 degrees Celsius. While this doesn’t sound too warm, it becomes stifling when combined with the humidity. The situation does not improve when the sun goes down, with night-time temperatures hovering around 18 degrees.

Walking down the street is extremely uncomfortable and it’s not long until you’re a dripping, sweaty mess. But it’s not only the humans that are suffering; according to reports, rabbits in Biggin Hill have been given special ice packs and are sheltering under umbrellas, while dogs are standing in containers of water to keep cool. Bristol Zoo Gardens is feeding its monkeys ice-cream cones topped with carrot sticks, while monkeys at another zoo are munching on fruit pieces that have been frozen in ice blocks.

Of course, fingers are being pointed in one direction – climate change – with warnings that summer temperatures could hit 40 degrees this year, bringing with them flash floods; a huge knock to the economy as people pull sickies to take advantage of the sunshine; and an increase in insurance claims as many are expected to leave their windows open to air out their houses, leaving them vulnerable to burglars.

I just feel sorry for those poor tennis players in Wimbledon. Now, where did I put that ice-cream?

Erm...excuse me, but they're Shetland Sheepdogs

2009-06-28T13:20:00.001-07:00

I refer to my post below - and, more specifically, the part about the miniature Collies. We managed to flag down an old lady the other day who was walking her mini Collie. While she was more than pleased to let us take pictures of her prize dog; she wasted no time informing us that they weren't Collies, but Shetland Sheepdogs.

Erm....

That might explain why I couldn't find any pictures of these hounds on the net ... and almost convinced myself that they did not exist and I had, in fact, imagined the whole lot.

Armed with my newly-acquired knowledge, I was able to find a picture of a Shetland sitting next to a Collie just to give you an idea as to why I would have come to my mini-Collie conclusion.

They still look like mini Collies to me…

And damn are they cute!

My next pet...

2009-06-22T11:36:00.000-07:00

I want a fox as a pet. And a crow. Maybe even a ferret. These are just some of the creatures that often roam the streets of London looking for their next meal. The foxes come out at sunset to scavenge amongst the rubbish; while thousands upon thousands of crows always litter the parks, nibbling on tasty morsels left behind by picnickers. I have always thought that crows are magnificent birds and, after only seeing one or two in South Africa, I find it such a treat to see hundreds of them gathered together in one place.

We went to a pet store the other day. Forget puppies and kittens; here one can get more unusual pets, like ferrets, chinchillas and giant house bunnies. They're massive! You can put their front paws over your shoulder and cradle their bums in your arms - they're the size of a small child! Driving down the street, we saw a girl walking her ferret - too cute but also very funny because the ferret walked sideways in a sort of crab-like fashion.

I kind of feel sorry for the pets here because the gardens are so tiny so there's not much room for them to move around. Some places don't even have gardens. We drive past a block of flats to work and every day we see a husky on the first floor. Although it's terribly adorable, it breaks my heart to see him propped up against the porch wall, with his front paws sticking through the bars, watching the cars go by. I can only hope that he gets taken for a walk every now and then.

It's amazing how many Boxers, Staffies and Pit Bulls there are in London. I have seen some of the most magnificent dogs here and it tugs on the heart strings and makes me realise just how much I miss my animals back home and my boxer, Bean. Apparently it's quite expensive to buy an animal here and one can usually only get them through registered breeders. This is because the government has put restrictions in place in an attempt to minimise animal abuse and over-breeding. I wish SA would implement something along those lines. To the left is a picture of one of the Boxers we saw - so beautiful and so well looked after.

Other dog breeds I didn't even know existed are miniature Border Collies and Huskies. There are a couple of the Collies in our area and they are just too adorable! They have the shortest legs and are about the size of Staffies - maybe a bit bigger. We've never been able to stop and take pictures but I sure as hell am going to try - I can't even find pictures of them on the internet so I'm imagining there are a few people that don't believe me!

For now though, the only pets I want are my own. Apparently ferrets smell funny.

Week One...

2009-06-08T13:15:00.000-07:00

I think they got it wrong when they said New York is the City that never sleeps - "they" should visit London! It has been nothing but craziness since we set foot off the plane. We had one day to find our bearings (well, try to at least), then it was straight to work and trying to navigate this new way of life.

The tattoo studio is situated in what is regarded as a quiet town here. Back in SA, Kingston could be likened to Melville. However, my idea of quiet does not involve people constantly walking around, sirens screaming past every five minutes, shops closing at 10pm (some of them until midnight, or never) and the sun setting at 9:30pm! That has been the hardest thing to adjust to. According to my body clock, when the sun sets, it's about 7pm, dinner time, and we would be settling in to watch a sitcom. In London, 7pm sees us trawling the shops, not even thinking about dinner, or sitting outside on the porch getting sun-burnt - yes, sun-burnt!

London is the most charming place I have ever seen. The buildings are mesmerising! There is a church down the road that is 700 YEARS OLD! Imagine what that building has seen in its lifetime; if only those walls could talk!

In my first week of living in London, I never imagined that I could:

Get caught in a traffic jam at close to 1am

Buy Smarties in any form possible: cookies, cakes, cupcakes, ice-cream, cupcake mix, dessert...

Listen to somebody speak English, but not understand one word they are saying

See a 12-year-old pushing a pram - her baby's pram, and

Have the guts to ride a roller coaster that rockets from 0-80mph in two seconds

If this is only one week in, I can't wait to see what the next seven months and three weeks has in store! Hopefully in my next entry, I will be able to tell you that I mustered up the courage to stick a needle through someone. Then again, maybe not.

Watch this space

2009-05-11T02:00:00.000-07:00

I'm off to London in two weeks' time. Be sure to visit this page every other day as I share my very first Starbucks experience; my first trip on the underground tube and all the other wonderful things I'll be getting up to in London Town!