Going Offline: Day 54 - Going Online

I know, I know, ironic huh? Nelson harped on for ages about his addiction to Facebook and wanted to get off it as it was so time-consuming and affected his relationship with other people, his performance in work, and wrote a few short blog-posts bleeding his heart to the wide world of human beings about his fragile ego needing a rest from a virtual fashion show of people's lives.

And then he's back on it.

Well, if you haven't seen by now, I'm in South Africa spending time with la familia, my dad having been ill for so long and me wanting to be around him before time runs out. But since 2 weeks ago, this I can see will impact greatly on my career in the videogames industry, fragile and precarious as it once was before.

And now, I need Facebook...to contact people.

For all my good intentions of shooting the proverbial shit with my dad and the rest of his brood, no one needs a producer in little ol' Cape Town, and I found that out the hard way after 2 months of being strung along by someone. It's time to step up, get off my bum-bum, rewrite my Curriculum Vitae and become a full-fledged rat-race chaser, doing whatever odds and ends necessary to pay for petroleum for a run-down ve-HIC-le that will take me places for work purposes AND for comedic endeavours.

In terms of Facebook, that means being exposed to people again, promoting comedy shows and varying my repertoire, talking to long-lost "pals" and convincing them that I'm a gorgeous good-looking, charming little piece of ass-et that you can't do without.

AND THEN I'll be offline, keeping my head down.

So, you can call me a hypocrite for being weak-minded...OR you can stand-up and say, "Nelson...there's a guy that needs a handyman, I'll send him your number."

Yes, yes you can do that.

But for now, feel free to listen a little to my set at the Chilli Bar Comedy Show happening Thursdays in Soutfield. Go on, do it.

Cape Town Blog - Waking up to a brand-new world

And a wonderful to you all from a finally overcast Cape Town, South Africa. 

From my little room I share in my brother's wonderful house in the suburbs, I woke up dazed and confused early this morning to find two things that perplexes even the most astute of single gentlemen that walk the earth as directionless as I am:

1. A phone call from my sister demonstrating a cheap car on Gumtree called a Ford Lazer (yes, I write this wishing I could show my fingers making the Dr. evil signature move)

2. A black cat called Peanut licking itself in area devoid of appropriate testicular contents.

It's been a surreal week and a half getting to know my family once again, regaling them with wonderful anecdotes of stories from the colonial master land that is the United Kingdom, and wishing them health and love as best I can without sounding TOO droll. As yet, I have not had the chance to meet up with old friends due to a distinct lack of transport (public utilities usually consists of a man driving a van with a monkey-wrench for a steering wheel) but when I do, I hope it will be fun and interesting.

And yes, hun, I'm still waiting for you to answer.

Monday night saw me perform my first set for over a year at a lovely little bar in Rondebosch, expecting droves of UCT students eager to giggle their sides, and to be fair the 10 guys staring at me gave me the challenge I wanted most: a chance to test my mettle as a all-round entertainer.

And true to their word, they tested me.

Still, it was nice to walk off stage and blokes coming up afterwards saying, "China, you was ace, eh?" followed by a handshake and a shoulder-bump, a clear sign of me being accepted into the audience acumen of approval.

Ever been shoulder-bumped? It's like an audience Jay Leno nodding and saying you'll go far.

So today I'll be setting up a portfolio of shots thanks to a wonderful photographer I know, looking for menial work, openings up the money-grubbing bank account and reading up on the day's stories for new and exciting material, to mold and shape it into wonderful jokes that will leave them thinking that their lives can be for the better if they look past the errors of yesteryear and just accept that inside, we...are all...pink.

Cape Town, bring it on.

See me Thursday night at the Chilli Bar in Southfield where I'll be sweating it yet again.

I don't have a Title, you can call me "Sir"

I see a fresh new yellow-brick wall in front of me, a stark contrast of the life I’ve been living for many years now. I wrote in pieces of paper, “Beginning”, “Development” and “Conclusion” and I’ve stuck them to this very same wall, hoping that the words may empower me in some bizarre Ancient Egyptian incantation that encompasses my entire being.

I’m talking bullshit, this is my brother’s room in his house and the only thing encompassing me is a hug from my mother tomorrow.

I’ve laid out the photographs of all the important people in my life in front of me, my parents and nephews/niece, I’ve laid the iPad next to me like it’s going to spring out a great idea that only digital media gurus can conjure. A glass of mediocre red lays half-drunk and my tongue feels like its berry goodness has already stained it with the shame of self-defeat.

My breath stinks of smoke. It must be from all the rolled cigarettes I’ve forced myself to ingest. Poor me.

The soundtrack to “Scott Pilgrim vs the World” is playing through tinny speakers on the desk which, too, shares the space for my affections. You know what, I have tried and successfully “attempted” to write something creative, a bleak outline of my only year in CityVarsity, a city college I attended back in 1999 in Cape Town, which really opened my eyes to progressive society that lay beyond the walls of suburbia and all the racism I swam through.

I also found out that my dad is extremely funny and quick-witted, and I’m so glad I’ve spent time with him. He is a genuinely warm and funny man, and my mom is the same person that throws up jibes that, had you been in her company were you down in the dumps, could’ve encouraged you to jump in the lake for her lack of empathy but yet her warm embrace which melted many a chill.

Yes, people, I’m back with my family…and by golly gosh, I’m loving it so far.

Now, can that person please call me back so I can work, earn money, get a car and do f***cking comedy?!!!!!

Going Offline - Day 1: Deleting my addiction

You know you're truly alone in the universe when you begin to comprehend the vastness of outer space, the endless, unyielding vacuum that goes on and on and on for billions upon trillions of light years AND beyond, with wonders never before seen, and if you're reading this, you never will either.

Similarly, you're truly alone when you delete your Facebook account settings off your universal chat program you've used to incorporate all your contacts together, to find only 7-8 people you used to chat to on MSN, Yahoo, Google and various others.

Yes...I've deleted my Facebook account.

I haven't deactivated it, and I could've just shut it down and never use it for AGES, and you'll come back to people having sent you messages like, "Where are you, what you been up to?" Etcetera.

No, I've DELETED my Facebook account.

Wiped. Clean.

Why?

Because I have an addictive personality to all things technological, always have. As a kid I took things apart and tried to put them back together. I learnt soldering techniques from my Uncle when his business was working arcade machines, and he would slave over the gameboards making sure the transistors that came loose thanks to some punk kid shaking the cabinet.

I would watch as he would melt thin, weak metal to make sure two wires would conduct, then connect it all up.

Facebook, however, is FAR from technological. Facebook is a social nightmare.

In addition to my addictive personality, I'm a little cowering worm in social circles. I compare myself daily to everyone that I pass on the street, let alone the people I judge to be my peers doing better than me, working harder than me, feeling happier, wonderful, amazing, excited, jubilant.

And I sit at home, without a job, realising that while I watched as everyone lived their lives, I wasn't.

Sure, you've seen me around hanging out, making the odd joke here and there, having a drink or two there, maybe working on a project with friends now and again. but all the time, whenever there was a moment, I would "check my Facebook" to see what the most exciting thing is today without contributing much to it myself.

I am a social pariah, yet Facebook was still my only "in".

No more. The people that matter to me have my number should they want to reach me and vice versa, my family have Skype (and heaven help me, soon I'll be with them so won't even need that), and emails galore.

I'm done with Facebook.

I don't want to virtually compare myself to other people anymore, it's just too draining. And to be honest, I ahve to admit that it cost me a career in my chosen field. People that wanted to trust me couldn't because they couldn't depend on me whether I was working for them or online seeing what "thingy-thingy is doing with their family". To all my former colleagues, I apologise.

I'd prefer to just understand that, in this life...I'm alone.

Sorry, I know this is a depressing blog post but I am really fed up, so my relationship with Facebook is over.

Cigarettes, you're next.