Leaving on a jet plane

I came, I saw and now it is time to return to 'home'.

For those of you who do not know, in January last year I decided to pack my bags and leave sunny South Africa for the buzz and excitement that London has to offer. The reason for me leaving was based around the fact that I was looking for new challenges in my career, as well as looking to find an international platform to launch my websites, Gayopia.com and AmigoCentral.com .

I have now been here a few months over a year and in this time I have not ever felt settled or at peace with myself. Although on a professional level I have been content for the most part, personally I have just felt that something is missing. I am not sure if it is because of the transient nature of London disagreeing with my Cancerian need for homeliness, the fact that I found myself in a long-distance relationship or just missing the sunshine and friends.

After a long deliberation, and with lots of conflict within I decided that it would be better for me and my relationship to go back to South Africa. Even though I know that I am going back to quite a culture shock, I am looking forward to setting up 'home' again and picking up the pieces of my relationship.

Depression is the ultimate motivation killer

...but new projects annihilate depression.

To be honest with you I have been a bit of a sad case over the last few months. Returning to London from sunny South Africa has really kicked me in the pants, reminding me of what is important in life, and what things I would like to change. Most of my time has been spent on wallowing in the fact that I am 'stuck' here, but not doing much to change the status quo.

The problem with getting into the rut of depression is that it grips you so tight that it becomes really difficult to make those changes that you yearn for so desperately. You wait for that guardian angel to rescue you from despair, but the reality is that you need to pull yourself out of it.

Usually when I need a change of mindset (and boy have I been needing one) I get stuck into a new project. Generally the enthusiasm bubbles so effervescently that it lifts the darkness that plagues me. My latest project, admittedly one that has been on the cards for a while, has finally been kicked off in the form of a friends portal - www.amigocentral.com , and the results to my mental state of mind have been phenomenal. Already my relationship with my partner is better and the rocky road that we have been travelling on seems to be behind us.

Viva positivity, viva going forward, viva!

Another project, more sleepless nights

OK, I am getting a little bored with my one online project aimed at gay dating, www.gayopia.com. All the fun stuff has been done on the site and it is in maintenance mode, so other than a few tweaks and changes here and there, it will remain as is for now. It is bringing in a few shekels from Google AdSense, but it is not going get me much closer to the point of retiring in the sun with my trusty laptop keeping me company. So in comes plan-B, if you like....

I have been threatening to build a social networking site, purely because my marketing mind recognises the potential for explosive traffic reach in a short period of time. Being the backward and impatient person I am, I first bought the domain www.amigocentral.com and then decided exactly what I want to do in terms of the design and development of the site. My rationale is that if I have the domain sitting there I will be more likely to get my ass into gear and finish the site. I admit this is not exactly fool-proof because I have not done very much in the 2 months since buying the domain. BUT, watch this space.

Who knows, pretty soon you could be in my social network, and more importantly I will be basking in the glorious sun.

Read the book, now see the film

It has been a while since I have been to the cinema (no, movies on airplanes do not count, even though the seats are the same). I decided to break the film-drought with the film-version of the previously-mentioned Brokeback Mountain.

To be honest I did not know what to expect. Whenever a movie picks up as much hype as this one has I am generally disappointed. That, plus the whole Marlboro Man scene just does nothing for me, so I went into the movie not expecting too much.

The first thing that struck me by the film is that it is more or less a spitting image of the book. Usually when you read a book and see the film a lot has been added or taken away, in a way that you feel cheated. This is not the case with Brokeback Mountain. As a matter of fact I am convinced that the dialogue was taken verbatim from the book and not much if anything in the form of dialogue was added to the film. (Marc to page the 58 pages later to check)

Here is the clincher. Did I love the film like the masses? Because I had read the book four days before and the film is so similar to the brilliant book it did not have the same impact on me as it clearly had on the rest of the audience. Tears and sniffing could be heard at time, but not from me (and to think that I am a sensitive Cancerian). The story remains brilliant, and the director, Ang Lee, has done the most phenomenal job of capturing Ms. Proulx's world. Heath Ledger's performance is utterly astounding, worthy of the praise and nominations that he has been collecting.

I look forward to seeing it again, probably much after the hype and excitement of the film has died down.

Riding on Brokeback Mountain

Amongst the various things that my my ex-housemate, Ivor, disposed of in the mayhem that preceded him leaving for South Africa was a copy of the short story Brokeback Mountain. The first thing that struck me was exactly how short the story is. He threw me a skinny pocket-size book with no more than 58 pages. I was wondering how they squeezed an Oscar-worthy epic from so few pages.

Being a typical Londoner (i.e. not born in the U.K.) I read this seriously underweight book the tube en-route to the grindstone. Whatever the book lacked in size and volume it made up for in sheer quality of writing. The Author, Annie Proulx, has perfected the art of painting tangible scenes using well-chosen powerful words.

Reams have been written about the subject of the book and of course the film has caused quite a stir, but if you appreciate a well written short story it is well worth getting yourself a copy of the book. In short a powerful, accurate, poignant piece of writing.

I am curious to see the film to see if it does Ms. Proulx any justice. Judging from the critical acclaim it certainly does.

The end of an era

The panic that accompanied Ivor's last hours in London was an emotional blessing in disguise for me. We had been so busy moving, packing, and even sorting out last minute shipping (yes, the boy was 40 kilograms over-weight, and yes, it consisted mostly of music) that I did not have time to think about the heaviness that was about to hit me. Even the snow was a welcome distraction to the inevitable departure.

Ivor's year long secondment (well documented on his blog, Korrelkop) had finally come to and end, in some ways too soon for him, and in other ways not a moment too soon. Although there is sadness in leaving a place that one had grown accustomed to and learned to love, there is also the happiness of reuniting with friends and family.

For me, Ivor has been an inspiration, a confidant, a fellow Coke fiend (Cola that is), a fellow pub-crawler, but most importantly a true friend who understands me and knows me through-and-through.

I know that my life has been fuller and more worthwhile having spent the last year with him.

Enough of the cheese....but it had to be said. No-one can accuse me of being the most emotionally open person, but this is the closest I can get to 'An Ode to a Friend'. :-)

The perfect Christmas

Up until late afternoon on the 24th of December I was under the impression that Christmas day would consist of either reservations or take-aways. That was until my Ivor, my housemate, returned from Sainsbury's with a truck-load of goodies for the traditional Christmas lunch. This is all fine and well, but considering that neither of us have ever roasted anything in our lives, let alone a turkey, I thought that he was a little ambitious, or intoxicated by the Christmas spirit. Nevermind a glazing a ham, getting the timing right on the lamb or learning how to make roast potatoes to rival grans!!. This was going to be an adventurous undertaking requiring us to pull all our resources and energy, as well as a little research on that life-saver we call Google.

Christmas morning came way too quickly for me (was it the fact that I only got to bed at 3 after a mammoth bout of Sky movies, or possibly the fear of flopping my first Christmas lunch?). Before I could find a decent excuse to get out of the house until New Year, Ivor and Tree had pushed me into the kitchen preparing the turkey. Both of them had woken up hungry, but refused to eat anything so as not to spoil their Christmas appetites. Somehow, pooling our efforts we managed to set an amazing impromptu Christmas table decked with all the traditional goodies and cook a meal that somehow was totally delicious and without fault. Ok, I admit, one fault, we totally forgot to make gravy. Thankfully the turkey came out so well that it was not even the slightest bit dry.

A few impossibly large plates of food later, a couple glasses of red wine down and a toast or two spoken, we were all ready for the other Christmas tradition, a nap.

All's well that ends well.