Getting into my comfort zone after the Problogger Event - read: seeing a band. #pbevent

There was a bit of talk about getting out of your comfort zone at the Problogger Event. Darren Rowse said “getting out of your comfort zone is when sparks fly”. He talked about the people you meet and the opportunities that arise when you push yourself into doing something you may be a little afraid of, or go somewhere you might not want to go.

I am such a social person – I can be loud, I love meeting new people and I love talking. I enjoy hearing peoples' stories. I like having dinner with people and laughing. I have a diverse range of friends.

But I do crave alone time (it’s the only child/sole dweller in me) and also familiarity. While apparently my personality type is an ENFJ - which means I am an extrovert, I think I'm equal parts extrovert and introvert. Those tests are freakishly accurate, aren't they?! (There was talk of personality types at Problogger, and I just took my test.)

"An ENFJ:

- Prefers harmony to discord

- Outgoing and warm-hearted

- Genuinely interest in the feelings of others

- Often have a diverse range of friends and acquaintances

- Great at supporting and encouraging others

- Excellent organizers

- Seek approval from other people

- Organised and enjoy structure and careful planning.

- Likes sticking to a schedule - this makes them feel in control."

In between sessions at the Problogger Event, I wanted a little time out – some quiet, but also doing the stuff I like to do in every day life. I wanted to get myself into my comfort zone - at least for a few hours. Networking is tiring!

I read books and magazines on the plane, I dabbled my feet in the pool and I hung out with Clare, a friend who I met in New York last year. Clare came to the pre-conference party and we ate and drank at the Stingray Lounge at the QT hotel (great food!), then went back to my apartment for more drinks and icecream (hello Cold Rock cake batter icecream!) and a long overdue giggly chat.

And the next night, Clare and I went to see a band. Doing this sort of thing makes me feel at home, makes me feel like myself. Maybe seeing a band is my equivalent of going to a spa? It was a coincidence that Bob Evans (Kevin Mitchell) was playing on the Gold Coast when I was there. I left the Problogger party early (standing up and drinking at a party isn't really my thing, sitting down and drinking at a band is!), and Clare drove us to the Sound Lounge at Currumbin RSL where Bob Evans was playing. I find it interesting to see how audiences view bands in other places - levels of interest vs talking, camaraderie of fans (the fans here were very friendly and polite), the amount of singing along, and sitting vs standing. The Sound Lounge was a very relaxed venue - apparently Currumbin is not the Gold Coast that most people know.

(source)

Drinks were cheap, we sat on cushions on the floor, and I absorbed the music. I only took around three pictures of him playing – which is out of the ordinary for me – and had far more drinks than I usually have a gigs (again, out of the ordinary, because in Melbourne I have to focus on getting myself home safely). It was a fun night! Kevin played a new, yet to be released song with some affirming lyrics that Clare eagerly tweeted: "don't give up on yourself, 'cause you're the reason I get out of bed", and he also played two of my absolute favourites: Hand Me Downs and In Another Time. It was a great show!

Both Kevin and I discussed that we were too dressed up to be at a pub gig! (The patrons at the Sound Lounge were just lucky that I didn't choose the Carmen Miranda style fruit hat as part of my tropical costume for the Problogger party!)

What do you do to get into your comfort zone?

What personality type are you? Take a test here.

Do you like to see bands in other locations?

(You can view my other Problogger Event wrap up posts here.)

 

The weekend: pizza, a blogging class, a movie and lunch with new friends.

I've been quite sore this weekend - with Friday spent resting and much of Saturday and Sunday doing a little more of the same.

I made pizza for dinner on Friday night - I bought this dough already made up from my local bakery and it rose to the size of a football. And it was $2.45 for half a kilo! That's three pizzas worth!

My pizza was a halfa - potato, rosemary and garlic, and tomato, salami and olives - with mozzarella all over.

It rose so big in the oven!

On Saturday morning I had a sleep in and then gave a lesson in blogging to a friend. I was so excited! I've decided to give some more blogging lessons - do you want to hire me? Contact me if you do!

Here is her blog - isn't it great?! She commissioned that logo after giving a brief to 99 Designs. I loved seeing how excited she was when all of the elements came together. Visit it here.

I wore denim and stripes - my new fave combo. I picked up a denim jacket on The Gold Coast last weekend and have worn it to death this week.

I rested some more at the cinema - drinking an iced lychee bubble tea and watching Cate Blanchett in Blue Jasmine. Gosh I adore Cate.

Sunday morning was sunshine and sandals. That sun was lovely. I sat outside the State Library before meeting some friends.

I met some new friends - a family I've come to know through an Ichthyosis support group. The two little girls have Ichthyosis. They are so adorable: chatty, smart and funny - they guessed my age at 90 and 20, and then asking "how come you are 31 Carly, Why?!", quickly adding that I was born "many many many years ago"!

They both drew me pictures - this was the five year old's picture of her and I! She's invited me to come to her school to talk to her class, and calls me her new friend. The cutest!

The five year old wants to be a school teacher, a swimming teacher and hairdresser but doesn't know what days she will do those jobs on, and the three year old wants to be a princess and the The Tooth Fairy!

It was a lovely lunch - gosh this condition has afforded me the opportunity of meeting great people!

I'm still a little sore but will be ok :)

What did you do?

 

Nine awesome people I met at the Problogger Event #pbevent

I met lots and lots of people at the Problogger Event. There were simply too many to be able to meet everyone, but the people I did meet were all wonderful. Here’s just a few of the people I have come to know through Problogger (and some online prior to the conference), and think you should know them too.

Tamsin Howse - editor in chief at Kiki and Tea - I'm a sometimes contributor there. It was so much fun hanging out! (Note that I'm standing on my toes to be as almost as tall as Tamsin, and my eyes were a bit blinded by the morning sun!)

Economies of Kale – Liz blogs about chronic illness and healthy food. We sat next to eachother in the final session of the first day.

Jules Galloway – a natropath and another healthy eating blogger – a lovely woman who took me under her wing.

The Life of Clare – Clare is all about sustainable living, whole food cooking and travel. I met her early on in the conference, at the breakfast, and I introduced her to her blogging idol, Veggie Mama. Her fandom was very cute. Clare is expecting her first baby too!

The Plumbette - Bec a female plumber! I chatted to Bec sitting outside at lunch on the second day – she asked me lots about my blogging journey and she seemed so keen to learn.

Vanisha - I also met Vanisha early on during the breakfast (first world problem: the croissants were too scratchy for my face). Vanisha is a blogger from Canberra and she has also started a blogging mentoring website and program called The Purposeful Blogger. I went on a Gold Coast shopping tour with Vanisha and six other lovely ladies on Sunday.

Emma Stirling and Catherine Saxelby - I have met Emma and Catherine before - they're both dietitcians. I met Emma at the Heart Foundation cooking class and bumped into Catherine in New York on a food tour (so funny that we were on the same tour in such a big city!) and then we were at BlogHer together. These ladies are so inclusive, and they really care about healthy eating and social good.

Jacinta Tynan - I have followed Jacinta's newspaper columns for a little while now - I admire her as a writer. She asked a question at one session I attended, and I thought she looked familiar. I checked her twitter, looked at her, then tweeted to her that I think I am sitting next to her, and that I like her writing. We had a little chat - she is starting to blog after writing for the mainstream media for a long time. I also really loved her pink jeans and striped top!

I have truly made some good friends through blogging. I love meeting the people I get to know online in person. I only wished there was more socialising time at the Problogger Event!

If you were at Problogger, who did you bump into?

And what new blogs have you discovered recently?

 

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Walking Alongside Someone With A Visible Difference

It seems the more people I meet, and the more friends I make, the more I am reminded that people do treat me both normally and differently. Almost all of the new people who come into my life comment on how much they notice the staring. I never realised staring is that prominent until people remind me.

Tash, a friend I met through blogging, once said to me that she often forgets why people stare at us when we go out together. I am so used to being stared at and commented on that I forget what it must be like for my friends. Of course, I don't feel like my appearance is a burden on them, but I imagine the stares we receive must be just as tiring for them as it is for me. Camille has said that since her lung transplant (which means she no longer carries an oxygen tank with her), she's noticed a lot more stares when we go out together, because she no longer gets stared at alone.

James Partridge, CEO of and author of Changing Faces (the charity and book of the same name), wrote about how when people with visible differences are in the company of people with 'normal' looking faces, it can put strangers at ease during first time encounters - it shows that we are accepted by society. Partridge also wrote "being in a crowd with normal faced friends will almost certainly protect you from abuse and assure your integrity; the very fact of being with a normal-looking person will give you credibility." Furthermore, Partridge writes about implied slurs - people worrying their status of attractiveness could slip by you being in their presence. Partridge uses the example "You aren't pretty enough to be seen among us"; and adds "Nothing may be said, but the looks tell it all." Lifelong experience of having a visible difference has taught me how to read looks and hesitant behaviour from strangers (and sometimes people I know). I am not being paranoid, or thinking the worst of people - I just know these looks. There have been occasions where people have hinted they don't want me in their photo. And I'm certain that a reason for relationships not getting off the ground is that some boys have been embarrassed to be seen with me and not sure how to handle strangers' reactions.

My friends can also see reasons for me to be frustrated with ignorance, hurtful comments and discrimination, and how sometimes I can't keep on being polite. Recently I had dinner and a long, long chat with Kath, a friend who is missing part of two diagonal limbs. She is incredibly smart and funny, and very comfortable and confident about her disability. We were chatting about disability, and how it is just so tiring explaining and defending the way we look, and how we prefer to educate people on our own terms. She said that she is happy to stand in front of a lecture hall or write an article, but she doesnt want to educate people in her every day life just walking down to the shops. Which is the way I feel. I believe it's ok to only want to educate people on our own terms. When the taxi driver thing blew up in July, the things that annoyed me the most were that people expected me to educate everyone I meet - that I should be ok with answering every question that comes my way because I experience this all the time; and that I should also be polite in all my encounters. And for those who know me, and experience what I do by being a friend, can see that sometimes that's just not possible.

Tash has written her perspective of having a friend with a visible difference - it's one of the nicest things anyone has written for and about me.

"Carly and I have been good friends for over a year now, sharing laughs, going to new and different restaurants around Melbourne, attending movies and talks, and even travelling to Canberra together for the Human Brochure weekend. We have bonded over blogging, social media, and disability and other social justice issues we are both passionate about.

When the spotlight hit Carly amid the treatment she coped from a taxi driver a couple of months ago, and the positive and negative responses she got from highlighting this treatment, I was reminded how people see her and treat her differently. Because I often forget – she’s Carly to me! A vibrant, fun and funny friend, who is interested in many of the things I am.

I forget when we walk down a street together, or walk into a crowded restaurant, and people stare. Blatantly! I never remember why….I’m always so self conscious when it happens - “do I have my skirt tucked into my undies?” or “Do I have bird poo in my hair that I didn’t notice??” Oh no, I forgot, my friend is red and shiny….

This realisation, which also occurs at times when I read comments and tweets directed at her from the broader community, reminds me about how tiring it must be for her to be nice and pleasant in the face of such stares, comments and treatment by strangers, and how amazing it is that she does not react as most people would automatically react in such a situation. Given the volume of comments, intrusions and stares, she seems super human to me to withstand the Chinese water torture that is the constant drip drip drip of abuse and horrendously thoughtless comments. How lucky so many people think they are, to be in a position to judge someone else, because of their appearance.

I have also had a couple of different friends of mine talk to me about Carly and her story, and ask after her as you might after someone you know is in the hospital or someone going through some horrible time. It stops me in my thoughts, and makes me wonder if she may have been in an accident I didn’t know about, and thus the voice of concern. But then I always just mention that Carly is just living her life, just like everyone else – maybe I am too flippant, but I don’t see her as any different, in all seriousness! She’s working, socialising, chipping away at goals and dreams, writing, raising awareness for the things important to her, and things that matter and that should matter to all of us.

I have been told that because of my working history in disability and mental health, and my varied roles as a Social Worker, that my views are different to most people. That the average person doesn’t have the experience with people with disabilities that I do, and so it’s an unusual perspective. But I disagree.

You don’t need experience with difference to treat people as you would want to be treated. With dignity and respect. You don’t need a degree in disability to have empathy. You don’t need to work in the industry to have gained a glimpse into the experience, and recognise that people are people, regardless of each person’s range of abilities and challenges.

Am I wrong?

I wonder about people who are rude or horrible to Carly. Do they really not know anyone with a physical or intellectual or mental health difference? Really? The stats about our population would suggest otherwise. And so then I am even more baffled by people’s treatment of others.

I am endlessly in awe of Carly’s patience and resilience in standing up for herself, and other people with a visible difference. But she is still Carly to me! I will always take the piss out of her for her different music tastes and her complete ignorance about sports, just as I would anyone else. I will challenge her on things I don’t agree with, just as I would with any other friend. And I will banter and laugh along with her at the range of things we come across every day. Because surely we are all the same, in the end."

You can read Tash's blog, and follow her on Twitter and Facebook.

 

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Meeting Valerie and Stephane - also affected by Ichthyosis.

On Monday I wrote how blogging builds and strengthens communities. My blog brings people together. I've come into contact with many people with, or parents of children with Ichthyosis through writing here. Last year while overseas I met Jack and his parents, and also DeDe. I also keep in contact with many people affected by Ichthyosis online. The Ichthyosis Awareness Month blog project brought lots of new people into my life and I think it definitely strengthened communities.

Over the weekend I met two new friends - Valerie and Stephane - from New Zealand via Mauritius. You may remember Valerie's story from Ichthyosis Awareness Month. They happened to be in Melbourne at the same time (Val lives in New Zealand after moving from Mauritius, and Steph still lives in Mauritius). They were both so warm and friendly, and it's as though we've been friends all our life.

(Coincidentally, on the same day as I met Val and Steph, Courtney, Evan Connor and Brenna met Steph, Curt and Willie all the way across the world in Arkansas.

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Courtney also described meeting Steph as having a deep connection because of shared experiences. I'm sure the meeting gave Courtney so much hope for Brenna.)

Valerie and Stephane are siblings - they have a close relationship. Valerie said they really understand each other. Both are affected by Netherton's Syndrome - the same form of Ichthyosis I have. I could definitely see similarities in us all - both visually and in our discussions about our experiences.

We chatted for two hours together on the train and over brunch - we've all experienced difficulties with our hair breaking, our eyes get stringy, we get very cold (like me, Val wore four layers that day!), and our skin is the same level of redness. They both use different treatments than me - a fatty acid and glycerol, and they've been trialling some eye drops that reduce redness on their face. We have, of course, also experienced societal difficulties - the staring, insults and the ignorance. I was telling them a little about how I have an autopilot response of "I was born like this" and rarely get angry, unless it's warranted. I think this advice helped both of them a little. We all agreed that countless questions and staring is tiring, no matter the best of intentions.

Steph was returning to Mauritius that afternoon and so I dropped him at the airport. Afterwards, Val and I went for a bit of shopping, and boy did she shop! She's got a thing for turquoise - which suits her so well :) Also, Val has great hair! And they both have beautiful eyelashes which I joked that I was envious of!

The time spent with them was not limited to discussing Ichthyosis, but it was hard not to given it's the reason we met. We are all around the same age - Steph is 28 and Val is 35 - so we've experienced growing up in the same era. However, they told me it's very hard to cope with Ichthyosis in Mauritius - people don't hold back with staring and commenting (cultural ignorance and fear, perhaps?), and I expect the climate would be difficult. we talked about pain - we all agreed that the physical pain of Ichthyosis is so hard to describe. I felt it really great to articulate our shared experiences together. Steph in particular was impressed by my confidence and very thankful for me telling my story and he said that watching my 'It Gets Better' video gave him a little hope for himself. We agreed that connecting online gives people affected by Ichthyosis more hope than what we had growing up.

Years ago I was hesitant about meeting anyone with this condition. Maybe it was because of my experience with online support groups (especially the illness one-upmanship). Or maybe it was because, at dermatology conferences, I'd meet people who were forever looking for cures and pushed that expectation onto me too. Or I was scared that I didn't have all the answers about how a child may grow up for a new parent. I've learnt to let those worries go. Since I've been blogging, getting to know people through their comments and on Facebook - not just discussing Ichthyosis but showcasing our wider lives - I've been more open to it. When meeting Val and Steph (and also Jack, Julie and Danny, DeDe, and Jeff a few years ago), there was no one-upmanship, no competition of who has it worse, and friendly sharing of information about treatment rather than cure pushing. Above all, there was a great sense of knowing. I came away from our meeting on the weekend so uplifted!

When we said goodbye, we agreed to stay in touch. I'm planning on a stopover in New Zeland next year before I reach America, so I'll definitely be meeting up with Val and hopefully Steph will be there too.

Maybe it was because we were so engrossed in conversation or excited to see eachother, but I didn't notice any stares in our direction. At one point, while on the train, I was relaying a story of a tantruming child telling me he didn't want to look at my face, and so I gave his father my card - suggesting he may to read my blog post about teaching kids about visible difference, and a fellow commuter piped up to tell us what a great story that was! I guess she could see that we all faced the same issues. Being with Valerie and Stephane was like spending time with people of my own culture. Maybe having a visible difference is a culture of its own - where we can all identify with similar experiences, and all belong. We all just know what it's like. We know we're not alone. And that's a relief.

 

Visitin' the country, gonna eat me a lotta pizzas. A day with Heidiapples.

You know those weekends that are just perfect. Lazy days, good food, fun and good company? Well I've just had one. It started off with bands, cooking and dinner with a friend, and ended with a beautiful Sunday in the country. I don't drive much, living in the city. There's no need to with public transport so close and affordable. In fact, last year I drove a total of 4000 km. That's it. So to go on a road trip, over an hour from home, is a real novelty. I feel like I'm going somewhere.

The beautiful Heidi invited me to her parents' place on the Mornington Peninsula. Heidi's husband Ben is away in Sydney working at his awesome tutoring business for two months, and then they're going to America for three months (I KNOW, RIGHT?!), so she's back living with her parents. As I expected, they're so wonderful too - friendly, welcoming, and foodies. Such foodies. If my parents and Heidi's parents got together they'd start a restaurant, I'm sure. That or they would talk about food for a week. They have ham on the bone and a love for different cheeses. Like me, they're wholefood fans, and adventurous. We had a pizza festival last Sunday afternoon. Oh it was wonderful. It featured food cooked from scratch, food cooked with love.

Heidi took me for a drive around the area. In the 10 years I've lived in Melbourne I've only been to Mornington once. We started off by going to a cafe/provodore and then the Shoreham beach - Heidi has lovely memories of the beach and I feel privileged she shared them with me. The sea air smelled amazing and I have returned with enough sand in my shoes to feel like I've had a seaside holiday.

When we returned home, we got started on making pizzas. Heidi's Dad made the dough and got the outdoor pizza oven fired up.



Their garden is lush and rambling - filled with roses, fruit trees, herbs and vegie gardens, plus pretty decorations that make it homely. I'm not a fan of the outdoors, as you know, but on Sunday, I really liked being outside.

While the dough was rising, we got started on preparing the toppings. I am a believer that anything can be a pizza topping, but also less is more, and Heidi and her family follow that pizza belief too. We prepared toppings for four pizzas. My contribution to the menu was a fig, cheese and ham pizza - I picked up some fresh figs from my local grocer on the way.

Heidi and I sat outside in the sunshine, drinking adult cordial that her Dad prepared - it was delicious. It's a cocktail of tart plum syrup (leftover from baked plums), ginger and sugar syrup, ginger liqueur, bourbon, soda water amd raspberries. It was delicious. And rather elegant.

We chatted about writing, boys (my boy confusion, and how she's so in love with Ben - her love for him is so cute!!), music (we are both currently loving The Lumineers), American travel and food. So much talk about food. I love Heid's passion for food - she told me how she adores making pastry, and she's always reading cookbooks and learning about wholefoods and nutrition. And I joked that she was a "walking boom box" when she ensured we had music everywhere we went - courtesy of her iPhone in her pocket. So much innuendo captioning this photo!

Finally the pizza dough was ready to be rolled, just in time for Heidi's Mum's arrival home after a stay in the city. Warning: many pizza photos ahead. You're lucky you're not seeing photos of us taking photos of the pizzas. Because we did do that - and agreed it was a pyschologically normal trait of active social media users to do this.

On the left, there's chorizo, bocconcini, tomato and Parmesan, and on the right is button mushroom, shiitake mushroom and Parmesan.

This one is the fig, blue cheese, mozzarella and ham. Some leftover craisons and garlic oil was added too.

And potato pizza - the potatoes were par-boiled, thinly sliced and then layered with anchovies, rosemary sprigs, garlic and Parmesan.

The pizzas didn't take long to cook in the oven - maybe 10 minutes each. We cooked them two at a time.

And then we ate them. With some kale salad that Heidi massaged with lemon juice to soften (like a ceviche). But not before we took approximately 172 photos of the food - and giggled about it being ok to delay eating for blogging purposes. I apologised to the kale for not photographing it.

The pizzas were served on boards - Jamie Oliver style. If you've been following me on Twitter you'll be aware of my gripe with Jamie Oliver serving his meals on boards. Sure it looks good, but how practical is it? What about taste (and germ) transfer? I wince at the weepy stews seeping into the wood one night, and then soaking up the juices of a fruit salad the next night. We all agreed that pizza is an acceptable food to serve on a board.

The pizzas were so delicious. I may have eaten six slices. The chorizo one was packed with flavour, the mushroom one was simple and mild. I loved the potato pizza - it was like eating cheesy potato bake. And the fig pizza was sweet and salty and creamy. Wonderful.

I was getting into serious pizza coma territory and needed some caffeine to pick me up for the drive home. Heidi's parents have a whizz bang coffee machine. But I don't drink coffee, unless I'm on a plane or it has some chocolate in it. Her Dad made me a strong black with equal parts coffee and Nutella stirred in. So delicious. Pizza coma averted.

Heidi had prepared an apple and fig tart which was cooked in the pizza oven. She adapted the recipe from here. She'd made rye flour pastry (which she calculated as being somewhat healthy, given the rye and the low butter content - and I'm taking her word for it because she's a dietician and knows her stuff. Even though she told us "the apples were cooked in a shitload (an actual measurement) of butter". Healthy!

The base of the tart was spread with fig jam so it kept the pastry crisp and went all caramelised. The apples were just sweet enough. It was beautifully rustic. And a success in the pizza oven. We ate it with home made vanilla icecream. Seriously, it was all amazing!

I am so glad to have made the trip to see Heidi and her parents. It's friends like her that make my world a wonderful place.

Thank you all for a great, memorable Sunday. I can't stop singing the Presidents of the United States of America's Peaches now.

 

(Almost) 30. The party. Some thoughts. Much ♥

I am clinging onto the last days of my twenties. On Thursday I won't be a '20something just telling it how it is'. I'll be older. More responsible. Wiser. 30. Still telling it how it is, probably.

Last night I had my 30th birthday party at a fantastic restaurant called Queen Street Rescue. Today, in a sign of getting older, my almost 30 year old body feels weary and I have a headache from too many Moscatos and lemon-vanilla-vodka cocktails. Though my weariness could also be from the shop-til-I-dropped day yesterday. Or from seeing the Foo Fighters on Friday night and not getting home until 1 am. Or dinner out with Stella Young the night before that. Or the channel 31 Christmas party on Wednesday night. Too much action to be had this week. It is indeed the Festival of Carly.

The party was fantastic. It was very me - an elegant dinner and drinks with my parents and good friends. I received some beautiful presents including funds for my New York trip, travel books, a vintage bag, jewellery, a gourmet food hamper, jewellery and gift vouchers (and more!). I got a stunning box of macarons from La Belle Miette...

And a mix tape from an old friend who was one of the first to introduce me to music - I laughed so hard at the cover - Savage Sons!!!

My gifts were gorgeous and I cannot thank my parents and friends enough for them. They are very generous. (There's a few gifts on my kitchen table from friends who couldn't make it - the three year old in me is saving these until my actual birthday.) And the messages that were written in my cards are so kind and heartfelt.

But above the gifts was how loved my parents and friends made me feel. Just by being present at my party. People traveled from far away to celebrate with me. A friend from uni - I carried his beer up the hill at O-Week, and he can't believe how extroverted and drinky and sweary I am since the uni days! A friend from school who I am so glad I recently reconnected with - my new shopping partner. A friend I worked with at the department store. Blogger friends Cheryl (a slave to the party hat) and Heidi. The girls I met at high tea. My babysitter and her (hot new) husband. The friends who I'd come down to stay with in Melbourne - when they were 30 and I was 17 - and they'd take me shopping and to bands (they made me the mixtape!). Friends from No Limits. Friends I work with. And my wonderful, kind, patient, generous (and sometimes strict) parents - the best parents anyone could wish for.

My Dad wrote some powerful words in the card. They made me cry.

Dear Carly. You've made it - 30 at last. How can we ever forget the day when we returned from the Royal Children's Hospital in Melbourne without you. We didn't think you would make it, and neither did they. Thank God for the doctors. Love you heaps - Dad.

Wow.

I think about how lucky I am. How sick I was. How difficult things have been sometimes. And how far I've come. I am so thankful for every day, every opportunity, the fantastic times I have had, and all the friends and family I have who have supported, encouraged and believed in me. So much love. Thank you everyone for making me feel very special, and celebrating with me. I love you all.

My fabulous friend and social media manager extraordinaire Jess and her husband.

 Cheryl - slave to the party hat

 Heidi and I

 Ben (uni friend) and I - I'm so very quiet and reserved.

 The boys from No Limits.

 Heidi and Ben

 Steph - looking beautiful

 Probably not my best face. But no wrinkles!

 Upside down, upside down. Hurry upppppp.

 Some serious No Limits reporter faces.

 Country girls.

 Simona and I