Amidst the piracy trials and tribulations currently raging around the world (and I'm not just referring to those Somali pirates wreaking havoc in the Gulf of Aden) pitting record labels against people illegally downloading music and file-sharing sites, a famous band with a major South African connection is offering the first single from their soon-to-be released album for free.

The Dave Matthews Band, named after South African-born frontman Dave Matthews, announced on Twitter that they are offering the first single, Funny The Way It Is, as a free download. The album, Big Whiskey and the GrooGrux King, will only be released in June, but the band kicked off their summer US tour in New York this past week.

Hearing this news was sweet music to my ears. I'm a diehard fan of the band and while I lived in the States and anyone happened to play their music or mention their name within a 50-km radius from me, I always ran up to the hapless, unsuspecting person and screamed: "That's Dave Matthews! DAVE MATTHEWS! Of the DAVE MATTHEWS BAND! Whom I love and adore! Do you know that Dave Matthews is South African? As South African as I also happen to be?!?"

(Poor Dave. And my poor, bewildered victims! Luckily my temporary fits of insane outbursts didn't seem to have any ill-effects on the band's wild popularity. In fact, I'd like to think that my declarations of utter devotion helped to sell a few albums or tickets, but no... probably not.)

DMB (as they are also affectionately known among their fans) is the only major band I ever saw live in concert while I lived abroad. The tickets were a birthday present from my ex-boyfriend, and the gift was so perfect, I almost weakened and said yes when said boyfriend proposed again after that.

We saw them on a sultry evening in 2004 at a major outdoor venue in Maryland. Thousands of fans as devout as I am convened around sunset. The smell of grass hung sweetly in the air... and I'm not just talking about the aroma of the freshly-mowed lawns!

Seriously though, that show is truly one of the best memories of my life. Especially since I got to see, hear and experience the incredible talent of saxophonist LeRoi Moore - he passed away last year in August following a quad-bike accident. A devastating loss to the close-knit band and to the music industry as a whole.

They are one of those incredibly rare bands who are just as good live (or perhaps even better) as they are in the studio. Since Dave has also always been proud of his Saffa heritage, and since he writes most of their music, the vibrant Afro-influences in their music are quite distinct.

Yes, I know I'm hopelessly gushing. If you don't know their music (but when you hear some of their songs, I can almost guarantee that you will recognise it. Their music is featured on a lot of movie soundtracks), but if you download this song,  you'll hear what my fussing and crushing are all about.

Another reason why I love them so much is that they've always embraced technology and they've always been generous about sharing their music. In the band's early days in the early 1990's, before they hit the big time, they mostly played at universities where they actively encouraged fans to record the shows.

If you have a few megabytes to spare, do yourself a favour and download the track from the band's official website. But remember to act fast, since it is only available until next Wednesday.

It's Saturday the 28th of March 2009.

The flying saucer slowly orbits the earth at a leisurely 39,895 km/hr. Bork stares out the window, vaguely distracted by the dim outline of his enormous green head reflecting back at him.

"Whoa, I'm truly one handsome alien."

He doesn't realise that he has actually verbalised that observation until Sjnorgf snorts loudly from the steering deck and says: "Yes, you're a regular Alien Schwarzenegger."

Blissfully oblivious to Sjnorgf's sarcastic tone, Bork turns bright orange at the compliment (according to him) and flexes his long, thin tendrils to check for any ripples or bulges that would, at last, indicate some muscle tone. To no avail.

"BORK!" Sjnorgf screams. "Pay attention! Geez, if any human was ever to encounter you, they'll say that the skeptics among them are right to believe that no intelligent life exists out here. You KNOW you're supposed to be on the look-out for telescopes pointing our way so that we can mess with them a bit! I'm tired of hovering over  deserted corn fields in the American Midwest. It burns up the engine. And I swear, if I have to make ONE more childish crop circle..."

"Sorry," Bork mumbles, blushing orange again. He folds his tendrils (yes, even aliens can sulk) and turns his unblinking eye towards that weird and incomprehensible planet outside the window, concentrating extra hard to summon the willpower that would prevent him from focusing on his irresistible reflection.

He tries to remember the names of all the shapes of the various landmasses (continentals, he thinks they are called) as it passes by his window. Suddenly he notices something odd. "Whoa!" he says out loudly again.

"Bork, I TOLD you to stop..." Sjnorgf begins to scold Bork, but then he also notices. He pulls up the brake and levitates over to the other window in order to have a better look as well. Across the entire Australasia, lights are flickering off. Yet, unusually, it has already been a few hours after darkness has descended upon that side of the planet, but too early for those humans to begin turning out their lights for that lazy indulgence they have called bedtime and sleep. And it was happening simultaneously in those places falling in the same time zone! Yes, this was extremely strange indeed.

"I could've sworn that it's supposed to be the other way around. Don't the lights usually go ON after it gets dark?" Bork asks, sounding genuinely perplexed.

Sjnorgf almost begins to explain the concept of night and day to Bork again, but then thinks better of it. Instead, he levitates back to the controls and releases the brake. They carry on until reaching Africa.

"Whoa!" Bork says again. "Check, this one is staying almost entirely dark most of the time!"

"Yes, well, in South Africa they have an electric company whose motto seems to be: 'We make the dark continent even darker!'," Sjnorgf mutters. But he watches, intrigued, how even the few lights in Africa also flicker off for a short while a few hours some time after sunset. "Time to move on. For all we know it's just that electric company that is leaving the people powerless once again. So it might just be an odd coincidence."

When they reach South America a few seconds later, it is still daylight there, so Sjnorgf pulls up the brakes again and they wait for a few minutes, Bork sneaking admiring glances at his reflection yet again, an entirely pointless exercise he never seems to grow tired of.

But it turns out that even his vanity can't outlast his attention span, and he ends up emptying his pockets. The new activity is so engrossing, he doesn't even glance up when all the lights across South America and North America flickers off for about an earthly hour successively across the various time zones. Sjnorgf says: "Well, would you look at that. Those earthlings are definitely up to something.

Bork spreads out the contents of his pockets on the console in front of him. Space junk left behind by those stubborn humans who have been shooting various things (including, insanely enough, themselves at times) up here to actually see if creatures like Bork and Sjnorgf exist. Bork chuckles. If only they knew how often they've been right there among them on earth! He especially loves to try and pick up illegal alien chicks in the United States. He once came close to blowing his cover when he chatted up this redheaded illegal alien at a Sci-Fi Convention in Baltimore, Maryland. It was almost as if she had suspected that something was up with him, because she kept on asking him questions about which character he was supposed to be? It scared him. She later confessed that she thought that  he was someone from a place she referred to as "Immigration".

But apart from that close call with that alien chick, he still loves to go there and to collect earth junk when he is down there. He especially loves going to that public book place and printing out pages from Internet web pages, his favourite being a group blog site called MyDigitalLife.

At that moment, while scratching through his collection of earth junk, his eye falls on a printout from that very website he had made at the library last week. He hadn't even read it, but he liked it because the subject had something to do with earth. And yes, in case you still aren't able to tell, Bork is a bit obsessed with all things earthy, even though he can't quite understand the planet and its inhabitants.

He starts to read the printout. "Um... boss?" he says to Sjnorgf after a long time. "I think I know what they're doing down there."

"Yeah, right." Sjnorgf mutters, but quiets down when Bork hands him the piece of earth scrap.

He scans it with his eye and then bursts (quite literally... complete with purple slime shooting out of his split sides and his nostril) out laughing.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! They really are a funny bunch. They turn off their lights for a measly hour and get right back into their SUVs and think that they are being good earthlings. Oh, HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I've never SEEN such a funny thing! See why I keep on coming back here, Borky? Because they are just so endlessly amusing."

And with that the flying saucer speeds away from the little blue planet with its chaotic and apparently hilarious inhabitants, leaving a trail of star dust in its wake.

*The redheaded former illegal alien would like to issue the disclaimer that she totally did her bit for Earth Hour as well by turning off her little bedside lamp and lighting a few scented candles. So as far as she is concerned, that cynical old Sjnorgf should just go and fly into the sun.

Gmail has finally come up with a solution to rid you of that rueful "Gee, I really shouldn't actually have sent that e-mail to that person!" feeling you sometimes experience right after pressing the "Send" button.

Go on, admit it. We've all, upon ill-advised occasion, sent mortifying, or unfortunate, or incriminating, or heated, or melodramatic, or desperate, or wildly inappropriate, or drunken, or confessional, or hysteria-tinged, or (all too often) all of the aforementioned, electronic missives to friends, family, lovers, exes, spouses, co-workers, or even - the horror! - to bosses.

In fact, the origin of the regrettable e-mail can be traced back to the mid-to-late 1990's, when MSN allowed everyone and their pets to get a free hotmail e-mail account. It wasn't long before it surpassed drunk-dialing as the embarrassing communication of choice. And although cringe-worthy voice mails could also be saved and eventually be used against you as court evidence, they at least couldn't be forwarded to even more people!

Now, at long last, Gmail has come up with a sort of a preemptive remorse feature: an "Undo Send" option. Even though some proprietary internal e-mail systems have had this feature for years, this Gmail Labs addition is a first for web-based mail services.

Enabling it is really easy. Click on the little green flask at the top of the screen, or go to Settings (top right hand side of your Gmail page) and click on the Labs tab. Although Gmail users can usually access new features shortly after they're introduced, the features take time to roll out across all accounts, so don't test it out with a risque e-mail until you have had the ability to activate the feature!

Once operational, you'll see it every time you send a mail. It will show up as an Undo link at the end of the confirmation message that always appears at the top of your inbox after you've sent a message. Right between the "Invite (Name of the e-mail recipient) to Gmail" and "View message" links.

If you don't do anything, the mail will be sent as always. But if you click Undo, the e-mail will be taken back to the Compose mode.

However, you'll have to be quick about undoing it. You'll only have the option to Undo it for a mere five seconds. Gmail says they are working on extending this window of opportunity to ten seconds.

Do take note that the Undo Send feature can't pull back any mails that have already been sent.

So if you ever receive a really nasty, inappropriate e-mail from someone with a Gmail account in the future? Then know that they probably really meant to send it...

For more information, check out this post on the Official Gmail Blog.

 

Are you SURE you are not dead?

And by 'dead' I'm not referring to the general lethargic cloud you (or, certainly, I) stumble around in until ingesting that first cup of coffee for the day either.

So before you hook yourself up to an EKG, or poke yourself with a stick just to make certain, I don't mean that kind of literal death either.

(Although, it has to be said that the fact that you're reading any blog written by the likes of me doesn't bode well for your level of brain activity!)

The definition we're striving for here strictly refers to dead on paper. (And no, thankfully, that has nothing to do with whether or not one's writing sparkles and positively sizzles with lifelike descriptions and metaphors.)

The South African Department of Home Affairs is genuinely concerned about whether we, the breathing citizens of this fair land, are indeed officially alive. They are even calling upon us to check.

Look, here's the proof: "We really call upon citizens to confirm your alive status," local government minister Richard Baloyi was quoted as saying in this article on News24.

"Gmf," I rather indignantly thought to myself as I read that. "If our government really care that much whether we're alive or not, they should do something about the outrageously high levels of murder and mayhem going on between our borders."

But in our Department of Home Affairs' feeble defense: their request to us does have to do with crime. According to the article, some South Africans are wrongfully being declared dead by identity thieves trying to, for one, make fraudulent life insurance claims.

While you're at it, the minister says, check your marital status. With that he definitely had my attention. As a proud, lifelong commitment phobe who has narrowly escaped marriage on one or two occasions, I treasure my carefully cultivated singleton status.

The minister said that a special call centre has been set up to check our life/marrital status. None of the news articles published the number though, so I did a bit of digging and ended up calling the Department's regular toll-free (but take heed: not toll-free if you're calling from a cell phone) call centre number: 0800-601190.

I expected to hold on for ages, but as soon as I had navigated the menu (with a stroke of beginner's luck I selected ID Enquiries, which turned out to be the correct choice), and right after I was informed that all calls are recorded for quality control, I was speaking to a human!

He identified himself and I said: "Hello. Yes, I'd like to check if I'm alive."

"Ma'am," he (*ahem*) deadpanned, "You certainly SOUND alive to me." (You gotta love the Saffa sense of humour.)

I explained that the minister had urged us to call and asked if they've received many calls so far.

"Yes."

"Thousands, would you say?"

"No, more like hundreds. And everyone we spoke to was indeed alive."

"More than I can say of some of the men I have been on dates with," I said. Then I added: "While I'm on the subject of men and dating. Could you please tell me whether I'm perhaps married to a Nigerian or a Zimbabwean? Or to a male from any nationality, for that matter?"

With great relief I learned that I am indeed still not legally (or otherwise) spoken for.

But jokes aside, South African criminals have long since been involved in identity theft with the sole purpose of arranging fake marriages for migrants seeking citizenship. It's a rather lucrative exercise, because a desperate illegal foreigner will be willing to pay almost any price to become legal. Even if they have to, paradoxically, break the law in the process.

So it has been established that I'm alive and single. Are you dead and married? (Then again... this would be an apt description for many married folk out there!)

If you just want to check your single/married status, you can actually do that over here on the web.

Kindly do inform me if you are not alive. I'd love to at least write you an obituary!

Then run to the doctor and ask him to book you off for a bout of Paraskavedekatriaphobia.

That, of course*, is a fear of Friday the 13th - which today actually is!

If you've been blissfully unaware of that until reading this, then: it's been my absolute pleasure to remind you! That, really, is what I'm here for. Wait... why are you waving that crucifix and clove of garlic in my direction? Please don't. It's terribly distracting.

And if you're thinking: "But didn't we just HAVE a Friday the 13th?" Yes, indeed. We had one just last month. And there'll be another one later this year, in November.

So if you're superstitious or genuinely phobic about this sort of thing, 2009 really isn't your year. (But don't worry, relief is in sight. 2010 and 2011 will both just have one of the dreadful days each!)

But don't despair too much, because you are not alone - there are apparently 21 million Americans who suffer from Paraskavedekatriaphobia. In fact, the number of people who will stay home and off the roads of the United States today will apparently be so high, one psychotherapist estimates that $800 million to $900 million in commerce will be lost!

Personally, I'm about to celebrate the day by having a Black Cat Peanut Butter sandwich for lunch and by signing a contract for a new freelance opportunity. (The contract-signing should apparently be avoided at all costs today! But what can I say, if that is considered living dangerously, then I'm only too happy to be such a daredevil!)

So as I stroll down the street and pass under all those ladders at that building site, I will be thinking about you and wondering how YOU are celebrating this day?

I have to admit though: I am hoping that the black cat that will inevitably cross my path today (the neighbour has one) will turn into a black Labrador Retriever instead. I'm in desperate need of a dog fix, see... not a crucifix!

* I had accidentally typed 'of curse', instead of 'of course'. So the only thing I'm beginning to get superstitious about is my typing skills!

I pride myself on not being a materialistic sort of girl.

Or rather, I used to pride myself on not being a materialistic sort of girl. But then The Source issued the challenge for us to come up with five ultimate dream gadgets that we would like to receive as prizes here on MyDigitalLife.

Ever the perpetual dreamer, I'm happy to oblige and to play along. For a moment, I've allowed myself to forget that I'm an impoverished writer and I've gone wild with this imaginary shopping spree. And in the process? I've realised that I'm just as materialistic as, say, Paris Hilton. *Hangs head in shame.*

So here then, sort of in order of how badly I covet them, are the gadgets that will, from now on, be igniting my feverish fantasies at night.

1. MacBook Pro

Once you go Mac, you apparently never EVER go back! And really, who wants to be PC when you can have a Mac attack? In fact, I'm still convinced that Gwyneth Paltrow and Chris Martin's firstborn's unfortunate name is the endorsement of the century. I suspect that Steve Jobs dangled the promise of a lifelong, unlimited supply of Apple products before their noses, because if they really found the idea of naming their kid after fruit that 'wholesome' and appealing, wouldn't they have stuck to the theme then and named their son Banana (so phallic!) instead of Moses?

But that aside... I am ashamed to admit that my crush on this delicious machine has only been from afar. I've never even TOUCHED one! But just yesterday another journalist friend of mine told me how it has completely changed his life and enhanced his productivity. (Have you noticed how most Mac users are as devout as evangelists and how they are apparently ordered to convert everyone around them to their faith as well? Thing is, I have been worshipping quietly from afar for a long time already. I don't need to feel it in order to believe it.)

We all know the Pro's specs are awesome. These Apples are robust and roomy enough to house your entire movie, music and picture collection and still have ample room to spare for things like... why... your work of course! And they are fast to boot! And even diehard PC users admit that the exterior of most Apple products are undeniably sexy, sleek and cool. It's enough to make you judge a (Mac)Book by its cover for the rest of your life! It's a light-weight that packs a powerful, knockout punch.

2. An HD PVR and year-long DStv Premium subscription.

(Because it will go so nicely with the Samsung TV The Source has on his list.)

I was going to say even a Select subscription would do, but then I remembered that I'm allowed to dream big here.

With my limited budget, I only have access to the dismal, mind-numbingly repetitive offerings of SABC 1, 2, 3, and e. And with the DStv subscription fees going up on April 1 (to R499/month for the Premium offering), my dream of eventually getting satellite television is slipping even further from my grasp.

And as for the HD PVR... well, who wants to sit through tedious and annoying ads? How barbaric to be subjected to such torture! One hasn't lived until one has been able to pause live television and then catch up by forwarding through all the unnecessary bits. And thanks to HD's sharper images, you'll notice those actresses aren't as immortally flawless as you have always believed them to be and therefore you'll receive an instant boost to your self esteem!


3. Canon EOS 450 D

Smile, you're on Canon camera! Some of my friends from journalism school are award-winning, professional press photographers, and Canon has long since been their brand of choice. This baby packs 12.2 megapixels and the continuous 3.5fps shooting will allow you to capture poetry in motion... and make it look alive! The EF lenses and Image Stabiliser lens support will help you to focus and zoom in on your subject...

I'm salivating at the mere thought. (How's THAT for an attractive mental image?)

4. A PushPlay DVD subscription

This service which delivers DVDs directly to your mailbox (after you've selected it from their website) is South Africa's version of America's Netflix. For flat rate plans ranging from R45/month, subscribers get unlimited DVD rentals per month. There are no late fees or return dates (i.e. you watch it when you are able to, no pressure - but you'll obviously get better value for your money the faster you watch and return it so that you can get another movie) and shipping is free both ways. You simply return it to conveniently placed drop boxes. Subscribers make the selection from the more than 60 000 titles PushPlay has available on the site.

I have to admit, after having had Netflix while living in the States, I was a bit skeptical that the same concept would work over here. But it's been three years and PushPlay is still going strong and expanding even further across South Africa, so I'd be quite keen to try it out!

5. Worldspace Radio and year-long subscription (www.1worldspace.com)

Now, I actually have this, but since I can't really think of anything else I would like to have, I want someone else to also have the joy of experiencing this. I didn't even know that we actually had satellite radio in South Africa (apart from the DStv offering, that is) until I won this in a writing contest in 2007. Offering over 40 stations (including BBC Africa and World Service) of specialised, commercial-free pop, rock, Hip-Hop, jazz, country, Hindi, classical music stations beamed live from the United States and England, it will provide you with hours of entertainment. Since I don't have DStv, this radio has truly been my salvation. Check out the channel guide to see which channels are available here in South Africa.

So what do you guys and gals think of my selection? (Apart from the fact that I'm - as we've already established - a greedy, materialistic girl? What can I say... The Source has created a monster!!)

(Because The Source wanted to know...)

I still remember my first encounter with the Internet.

It was in mid-1996 and I was working for a Press Attaché at a foreign embassy in Pretoria.

The cute IT guy, James, had just installed a box. He called it a modem. "This would connect you to the Internet via the phone line," he enthusiastically explained to us, his uncomprehending audience. But even though my Middle Eastern boss and I weren't yet able to quite wrap our minds around this magical concept called the Internet, we were captivated. (Although I suspect that my own rapt attention had as much to do with the fact that James was tall, dark and handsome in an irresistible computer geek way.)

Later, after setting up our e-mail account and showing me how to surf the 'Net (which took a few hours, since it was dial-up, but hey, what did we know? It was mind-blowing to sit in a tiny office in Pretoria and read Washingtonian Magazine), he took me out for coffee. "Do you get it yet? I'm telling you, it's going to be life changing."

I am sure I believed him, but how could I possibly have known just how prophetic his words would be?

And these days, even though the majority of my life thus far has occurred before the Internet, I can barely imagine how any of us were able to cope without it.

What exactly did we DO before we read and wrote blogs, sent and received e-mails, surfed, streamed, facebooked and downloaded?

Well, I know I was a regular at the library. But I still have an active library membership. I still make time to read real books. In fact, if anything, the Internet has made me an even more avid reader, because it has drastically expanded my horizons and - therefore - my interests. Of course, one could always argue that my interests would have naturally evolved with age, but I still think that the 'Net has elevated my mind to heights it otherwise never would've reached.

But perhaps the whole process was a bit accelerated for me, because a few months after first hearing the high-pitched connection tone of the dial-up modem at the Embassy, I arrived in the United States, where the Internet was already widely in use. (That day James came to the office to connect us to the 'Net, I had already known that I was heading to the States, which is why I was so interested in reading the online edition of Washingtonian Magazine.)

Ironically, since the Internet was still such a novelty here in South Africa, I had to rely on old-fashioned letter-writing to stay in touch with family and friends back here. In a way I'm glad that the divide existed, because I still have those letters my family sent me. Since those early hotmail mailboxes only allowed a few measly megabytes of storage - and since I've always been way too sentimental to delete anything for the 'sake of making space - I highly doubt that I would've still had that correspondence had it been on e-mail.

These days, I spend the majority of my days on the web. I am a professional blogger and web copy writer, so the Internet has quite literally become my lifeline. Since I unfortunately don't earn enough money to afford luxuries such as DStv, it is also my main source of entertainment. I love how it has shrunk the world in so many ways. How else would I have been able to struck up virtual friendships with bloggers in places as far flung as Malaysia, Ireland and Australia? (And yes, even Midrand and Secunda... :D)

I'm quite amazed how vague the memories of my life before the Internet now seem. Almost as if it has happened to someone else. Of course I remember going on beach holidays with my best friend from high school. Even though her family was wealthy, her father had deliberately chosen to have no electricity at their beach house. Upon arrival I was mortified and panic-stricken at the prospect (no TV for almost a month!), but I soon grew to love those quiet, dark nights. I remember the smell of the paraffin lamps as it mingled with the sea air. Whenever I smell a gas stove today, it conjures up memories of those long December nights next to the Indian Ocean, playing games by the soft glow of the lamps, stray bits of conversation getting lost in the sound of the waves crashing below...

It seems almost... quaint, doesn't it?

How lucky we are that we can still have both of those worlds, should we so choose!

What do YOU remember about life before the advent of the Internet? (And please don't say "nothing", otherwise I'll gnaw my wrists off for being such a dinosaur!)

I've decided to take OS up on the challenge to attempt to dethrone him as top blogger of the week. Never mind that I've only twice ever made that most coveted of lists... in last place.

But as I've said, never mind that!

So I'm going to kick off my campaign with a little rhyme. Not because I'm a poet. Oh no, not at all, and don't I know it! (See? Lame.) So why subject you to this torture then? Well, because both weeks during which I made the list coincided with the Samsung Secret Valentine Limerick contest.

Here then is my first attempt at dethroning the OS! (Hopefully you'll find it somewhat amusing and NOT mind-numbingly boring!)

Red has this big brick of a Nokia phone
So ancient it only has one ring tone
To type one short sms
Takes her an hour, no less
Perhaps she should use it to knock OS off his throne?

(Yeah, yeah, so my rhythm is off. I've never been rhythmically inclined. Truly, ask anyone who's ever been unfortunate enough to witness my spams on the dance floor. Although? I'd much rather you DIDN'T ask anyone. Otherwise they might revert back to instant Post Traumatic Stress from the awful memory of such an assault on their senses...)  

Due to the somewhat precarious nature of my freelance writing income, I'm unable to enter into a phone/Internet contract, so Pay-as-I-go it is.

Vodacom is my service provider. Regular readers of my blog have probably already figured out that I am a Vodacom customer, because I have been known to complain about them. Often. And loudly.

So why support them then? Well, the choice was made for me by one of my former employees, and I've stuck to it, because Vodacom's 2 Gig 3G HSDPA offering is still cheaper than any of the others in South Africa - which doesn't say much, as all of them still grossly overcharge us for dismal data offerings and horrible service - and also because I already had the 3G modem.

But yes, until the day the Seacom cable lands (they're apparently still on track to arrive in June, yay!), it'll have to do for now.

So every other time I go grocery shopping, I buy a recharge voucher for my phone. And once a month, I buy enough vouchers to make up the R389-00 for my measly 2 Gigs.

So far so good... until last week, when I removed one of my pricier vouchers from my bag... in which the cap on my jar of hand cream had accidentally become unscrewed... thus smudging the recharge pin number!

I almost had a heart attack. Rummaged in my bag to try and find the receipt... only to find that I had thrown it away during an earlier cleaning frenzy (I must've been on a deadline! That's about the only time when the impulse to clean out and organise my handbag overcome me!).

So, what to do? I braced myself and called Vodacom's Customer Service.

When I finally got through to a real, live person, I explained the dilemma. To the rep's credit, she didn't burst out laughing. I asked her if it would be possible to recharge based on the voucher number, which had remained unscathed during the incident.

With my luck, of course it wasn't.

I had to make a copy of the receipt and fax it to the Vodacom's Customer Service Centre along with my name and cellphone number. She told me that I needn't write a letter to explain what had happened. (Ha, telling a writer not to write a letter is like trying to stop the motion of the ocean. So I obviously wrote a letter.)

Of course, since I work from home, I don't have access to either a copier or a fax machine.

But I figured it was worth tracking one down in this instance. So I did. And I faxed it on Sunday afternoon.

Yesterday morning I receive an sms to inform me that they've received my fax and that a customer representative will contact me shortly.

A few hours later, I receive an sms containing a brand new recharge pin code for the illegible voucher! I'm still not quite sure why I had to jump through the additional hoops of copying and faxing, and why I couldn't simply recharge by giving the rep all the necessary info over the phone, but well... there you go. You came through, Vodacom, so this time, I have no reason to (hand) cream you with complaints.

Hopefully, in future, I'll also refrain from doing that to your recharge vouchers!

Earlier this week, I received a private message from a facebook friend - who also happens to be a 'real life' acquaintance. He was writing to inform his facebook pals that he was leaving the social networking site.

He explained his reasons why (that it has been sucking up too much of his time, etc.), and then he wrote: "But the last straw came recently when facebook changed their terms of service without letting us know. Any photos, videos, and anything else you post on facebook, you no longer own... forever."

Like me, my friend (who is now my former facebook friend) works in media, so I know that copyright and intellectual property rights are especially crucial to him. After all, our livelihoods depend on it.

Now, I have never used facebook as a tool to showcase my work.

But then, last Saturday, I posted some writing on facebook. Ironically, it was the first time I had ever posted a note. I had slightly modified an old blog post about the brutal murder of Valentines Day (long, gory story. If you really want to, you would be able to find it among my old blog posts on here) and posted it as a facebook note. I didn't think that people would even notice, but they did and I even got a "like" and a few comments on it.

I definitely would not have posted that silly little story of mine if I had known about facebook's 'slight' change of its "Terms of Use" policy, though!

The "Terms of Use" is the legalese tacked on to the bottom of most websites that details what the site's owners can do with the information that users provide. Turns out facebook quietly changed its policy earlier this month to say that all user content was now going to belong to facebook. This basically means that the site was granting itself permanent rights to users' photos, wall posts and other information.

The company deleted a sentence from the old Terms of Use. That sentence said facebook could not claim any rights to original content that a user uploaded once the user closed his or her account. It replaced it with: "You may remove your User Content from the Site at any time. ... (H)owever, you acknowledge that the Company may retain archived copies of your User Content."

Now I don't know what's more alarming: the fact that facebook would really want the rights to the grainy cellphone picture of my horrible mug? Or that they plan to own it even after I close my account!?

But before you rush over and join the thousands who have deleted their profiles because of this... fear not. After the furious furore and flurry of account closings their audacity has unleashed, they've released a brief, rather sheepish statement - visible on your facebook homepage - stating that they were returning to their previous "Terms of Use" policy "while we resolve the issues that people have raised."

Yes, facebook, you do that. And you can be sure that many of your approximately 150 million users will be watching you with hawk eyes from now on!