Warning: the following pictures may evoke food envy. Dessert feast.

I never thought one of my most pleasurable experiences would be in a cafe in Windsor with a group of women. My senses are now yearning for those moments of spooning. Spooning luscious mouthfuls of high quality desserts, resulting in moaning and climaxing in a sugar hangover.

Everything about our Dessert Feast at Windsor Deli last Friday night was perfect. The company (a group of lovely Melbourne bloggers, organised by Kate),, the host (Katrina Higham), the drinks (prosecco, and beautiful softdrinks of elderflower, pineapple and ginger), the serving ware (jars, vintage cutlery, paper straws) and the table settings. Oh the table settings! Look at these flowers. I didn't care about my hayfever, my itchy eyes and sniffles were brought on by the beauty of these dainty posies.

I took two photos of bloggers. My priority was taking photos of the food and flowers. I apologise. I sat next to the gorgeous Kirrily from Sunny Side Up.

And across from Renee (About a Bugg), Suz (Sergovia Suz) and Sharon (Twitchy Corner).

Naomi (Under the Yardarm) and Sandra ($120 Food Challenge) were also at my table. We laughed and sighed and talked and sighed some more over the food.

Pastry chef extraordinaire Matthew Forbes put together a special degustation menu for us. Comprising only dessert. We were in sugary, dairy heaven. I hadn't seen elaborate pastry cheffery in action before, and so it was a treat to witness Matt's talents. So clever, so delicious.

I still couldn't stop admiring the flowers. When I grow up and become a better housekeeper, this is what I want to do.

The only savoury course was a palate cleanser - a jar of verjus sorbet with cucumber - think of a fancy cucumber raita you get with Indian takeaway. Tangy, creamy and crunchy. I heard Naomi say "is there any more" as she scraped her spoon at the bottom of the jar. Yum!!

Next up was sorrel and celery creamy whats its (I can't descibe them any better than that) with sheep's yoghurt and honeycomb. And clover. Too pretty to eat. But we ate it. So good. I liked the savoury, grassy aspect of the sorel, celery and clover. It was a bit like having a green smoothie for dessert.

Now this was my favourite course. Ladies at our table sighed, moaned and exclaimed "I don't want this to end". I do believe it was better than...

It was a bowl of tangy rhubarb salad (stewed and raw grated), white chocolate cream (thich and dense, lining the bowl), milk cookie crumbles, and Sechzuan icecream (tasted white peppery). Oh my god. I can't even. This was as good as the Momofuku dessert, if not better.

Matt and his assistant took great care in preparingnthe last main course, while us bloggers reveled in the delight of having just dessert for dinner.

This was a share plate (a wedge of slate) that looked amazing. We all busily took photos before tucking in. It was chocolate ganache quenelles, licorice icecream quenelles, pear, choclate crumb, meringue and fennel. See that silvery sponge looking stuff? That was silver meringue!!

Look at the detail! Mini Christmas trees!

Our after dinner chocolate was salted caramel and cardamom truffles, served on grated dark chocolate. The truffles were oozy and rich and salty and their goodness may have made grown women cry.

Finally, a nightcap of white chocolate and malt milkshake. Really subtle but so delicious. I did not expect to like this one given I don't drink plain milk but I wanted more!

I had such a wonderful night - I was not able to talk to all the bloggers due to time limits, but after dinner I had lovely chats with Pip, Jody, Cherie and Jane.

I love dessert and I love blogging and I came away from the feast so happy blogging has enabled me to do fun stuff like this and especially make all these new friends. It was a good end to a tough week.

If you go on Instagram and Twitter and search the hashtag #dessertfeast, you can see more photos and commentary.

Thanks Matt, Katrina, Kate and the other wonderful bloggers. What a beautiful night :)

Note: I was not paid to write this post. I paid for my own meal, great value at $45.

Sunday snippets

Sunshine at Federation Square

Food history exhibition - Gusto - at the State Library of Victoria

Local wildlife in Fitzroy

Toy goodness at Magic Lantern

Brooches and neclaces by Paper Boat Press at Finders Keepers Market (I bought a brooch)

Girl power reading on a Saturday afternoon

Pho. To detox from indulgence

Supergroup concert

Midnight snack at at the train station. Undid the hard work of the pho

Sunday breakfast - poached egg, dukkah, beetroot salad, watercress, pear, fennel, polenta, brioche, hummus and pumpkin puree. Best ever.

Playing along with Tinniegirl's Sunday Snippets.

500 Humans in Canberra

A few weeks ago I received an email telling me I have been successful in winning a trip to our nation's capital, Canberra, as part of the Human Brochure tourism initiative! A free trip to Canberra - yes please :)

The idea is for the 500 humans to form a human brochure across two weekends (in October and February), to show people how great Canberra is. We have to showcase Canberra via social media. There are four streams - family, art and culture, adventure and food and wine. Of course I am in the food and wine stream.

When I told my colleagues that I am going to Canberra, their reaction was "huh? Canberra?!". Much of the travel we do for work involves trips to Canberra. I am happy to see a new side to the city, and to help change peoples' perceptions about it as a place to visit for a holiday. And of course I am very excited to meet new people.

So next weekend I fly to Canberra to be a part of the Human Brochure campaign. I will be tweeting, Facebooking and Instagramming the heck out of Canberra. My partner in crime (no crime, honestly, we've signed a conduct disclaimer!) will be Tash - we met a few weeks back at the Other Film Festival and then had dinner last week. Tash tweets and Facebooks too. She is a seasoned travel blogger, so I expect between us, we will show you some really great stuff about Canberra.

You can follow the Human Brochure campaign on social media networks via the hashtag #humanbrochure

Thanks Australian Capital Tourism - I am so excited about this trip!

Our disabilities do not inconvenience you.

(source)

Our disabilities do not inconvenience you.

You do not have to be an example of (workplace) diversity every day.

You do not have to make people aware through passive or active education.

You are not asked to go elsewhere to scratch because it annoys people around you.

You do not lack in receiving physical affection because people are afraid to touch you.

You do not have policies about your lifestyle made by people who don't lead similar lifestyles.

You are not misrepresented or under represented in mainstream media.

You are not forced to enter buildings by the back door past the bins because that is the only ramp access, or worse still, not at all because the building does not have a ramp.

You do not require assistance to feed, toilet, shower or dress yourself.

You do not have to hold off from going to the toilet because public toilets are inaccessible.

Your face is not something that people stare at - or worse - look away from in disgust.

You can earn - and spend - your money as you like.

You are not excluded by steps on shops, restaurants and public transport.

You do not have to pay for the air you breathe.

You are not ridiculed on a daily basis.

You are not excluded from communication because you cannot hear see or speak.

Your intelligence is never questioned.

You are not interrogated by people asking questions about the way you look.

You do not have to endure constant pain when you walk, breathe, sit, or barely move.

You do not make people uncomfortable by the way you look or act.

You are not considered an inspiration just by going to the supermarket.

You do not have to put up with assumptions and statements made by narrow minded people.

Our disabilities do not inconvenience you. Have some perspective.

The dermatology conference speech - shifting the roles from patient to speaker.

On Saturday I spoke at a dermatology training conference at my hospital. I gave an updated version of my Appearance Matters speech. (I added bits about going surfing, my thesis result, meeting Jack Oldacres, and time with Rick Guidotti.)

At the start of my speech I joked that this is the first time I have attended a dermatology training conference wearing so many clothes, and I thanked them for that.

When I was younger I attended a few conferences where up to 200 doctors would look at me, many did not speak to me, or did not speak English, and I was only able to wear undies, one sock and a blanket. At first it was a novelty, I would charge the doctors a few cents a look. But then it got a little distressing. I was a teenager, not yet comfortable with my changing body, and I was frustrated by the cold environment - physically and emotionally. Not being able to wear clothes, and impersonal consults made for a difficult time. The last conference I took part in was when I was 15. As well as the doctors who examined me, I met a few people with various skin conditions, and that was a real eye opener for me - they were in search of a cure, but also missrable with life. I did not want to be like that. It was an unpleasant experience, and I told Mum that I wanted to leave early. So we did. I felt the doctors only wanted to get to know my condition, and not me as a person. I felt like a zoo exhibit. Dare I say it - I felt a little exploited.

When my dermatology geneticist invited me to a training day in October, she gave me the option of being a patient or a speaker. I immediately said I wanted to be a speaker. Good, she said, that will change the power balance of me as a patient.

It was strange being in a different role to a patient. While my dermatology team are fantastic and most realise I know as much about my condition as they do, and respect my medical choices, there is always that superior/subordinate relationship between us. The head dermatologist, a doctor I have been seeing for 24 years, walked me to the lecture theatre, and he was so thankful, so proud of me for doing this speech.

Before the conference, I chatted with dermatologists that had seen me over the years. We talked about my trip. There was little talk about skin.

And then I did my speech. I spoke in front of around 40 doctors. They were so receptive, and they got some laughs out of my speech too. It was not clinical, it was personal. It was a great feeling.

I am always going to be a patient. That is inevitable. But when I did my speech, the roles had shifted, and I was a teacher.

If you would like me to do a speech for you, shoot me an email.

My week in pictures

I went to an exhibition opening last week with my friend Mitch. It was at Flinders Lane Gallery for an Albury artist Jo Davenport.

There was a older gentleman there who had awesome shoes. My friend left me alone for a few minutes so I went over to talk to the man about his outfit. He said he saw some bright Doc Martens but did not want to pay the hefty price. So he painted his old brogues a chartruese colour. Very cool. He said I could take the photo and put it on the internet.

The flowers at Jo's exhibition matched the colours in the paintings.

Here is one of the paintings. We loved the colours and the interpretation of the Albury countryside.

Mitch and I had plans to pool our money and buy a painting. Big dreams.

Here we are. Mitch is awesome - a lot of fun, and he gives good hugs.

We later had an argument about blue heaven milkshakes. I said he was too old for a blue heaven milkshake. I lost that argument.

I had to buy a cake for a colleague on Friday. I saw this one on display. How much is that doggy in the window?

On Friday night I met some wonderful new friends - Lindy and her daughter Shauni. I have come to know Lindy on Facebook this past year. She and Shauni were down in Melbourne seeing a band. When I was a baby, my family lived next door to her in-laws. Her mother-in-law was known to me as Aunty Dawn and she used to look after me to help my parents out. Sadly, Aunty Dawn passed away in the early 1990s. I think about her a lot - she painted me a plate, and I have it near my stove. Lindy, Shauni and I got along so well, talking as though we've known each other for years. We shopped and ate. It was fun. Lindy does amazing work for Mercy International, sponsoring a child in an orphanage in Thailand. I wrote about her here.

This is a very old phone at the Royal Melbourne Hospital. I love it!

I went to a party last night. I stopped in at the very cool Tom Phat for a pre party cocktail and meal. This was lychee, ginger and cherry. Yum!

I ate the carmelised pork belly which was accompanied by an Asian coleslaw. It was delicious.

I was smack bang in hipsterville. There was nothing but boutique ciders amd beer. I bought a chocolate stout. Very stouty, not too chocolately. Interesting.

There were a number of themes at the party. 80s, triliogies or pyjamas. I did not adhere to any theme, but I did put on my friend's mullet for a minute. Classy.

Finally, dont forget to check out my piece on Mamamia - I wrote about the fabulous Rick Guidotti.

Have a great Sunday! :)

Mamamia article

Lots happening, I will tell you about that soon. I saw a flying pig in Bourke St Mall yesterday. It reminded me that anything is possible if you try. That brass pig tried its wiggly tailed hardest to climb that lamp post and launch itself into the sky.

Anyway, click over to Mamamia where I have written about the fabulous photographer Rick Guidotti today.

Happy Saturday!

Croissant and butter pudding. Definitely a sometimes food.

Last weekend I made the best version of bread and butter pudding ever. A few people have asked me for the recipe, and it was so yummy it deserves its own blog post.

If you are weight conscious, this probably isn't for you. If you are happy conscious, then this is the perfect dessert.

Ingredients:

I don't really measure ingredients. I used four croissants, the zest of one lemon, three farm fresh eggs, about half a cup of milk (low fat - is this a saving grace?), about three tablespoons of sugar, a splash of vanilla essence and a handful of dried craisins. Oh and a generous slice of butter - maybe 50 grams.

Method:

Beat eggs, milk, vanilla and sugar together in a pyrex (glass) dish. Cut butter into eight pieces. Cut slits in croissants and stuff them with small pieces of butter. Put croissants into eggy mix, and press down so they're soaked. Grate the zest of a lemon and sprinkle over croissants. Do the same with craisins - but make sure they're in the eggy mix or they will burn. Put remaining butter pieces on croissants. Bake in a low temperature oven (150 degrees) for around 20 minutes.

When cooked, the croissants will puff up like delicious puddingy pillows.

This is a bowl of amazing.

You're welcome. I'd make a good little housewife.

Genetic testing and (de)selection for Ichthyosis. What would I do?

If I fall pregnant, I will be able to genetically test for Ichthyosis in the womb. There is a one in eight chance for me to pass on my condition (as a whole) to my child, and it's inevitable for me to pass on the gene. There's a greater chance of my child acquiring the condition if my future partner carries the recessive gene too.

My parents have been tested for the gene. They have a one in four chance of passing on Ichthyosis. They both carry the recessive gene. There was no indication I was to be born with ichthyosis - it was never detected before birth. They don't show symptoms of it. I have had genetic testing too. I remember the day. The doctors shoved a giant cotton bud up my nose and it felt like it touched my brain. Hurt like hell. My grandfather had some sore skin patches on his leg. I always wondered if he had mild Ichthyosis. But I can't change past genetics. I can control future genetics.

I'm happy I was born. My parents did a wonderful job to raise me and to show me my worth. I know that for some people with serious disabilities and illnesses, they would not be happy they were born, and there may be resentment from both the patient and the parent.

I'm not sure if I would genetically test my unborn child for Ichthyosis. I'd have the test and then what? Would I go ahead with the pregnancy? I'm not sure. Would it enable doctors to be more prepared upon my baby's arrival? I already know there's a likelihood of passing on Ichthyosis, so perhaps one could believe that I'd be prepared for what may lie ahead, medically and socially, because I am familiar with the condition. But I don't know what it'd be like to have a healthy baby - one without ichthyosis - either. Would it be better not to genetically test in the womb?

These ethical issues about genetic testing for disability and illness are hard to discuss. I think they're bigger than choosing a baby for its sex or hair/eye colour. There is the assumption by society that people with disabilities and illnesses have less of a quality of life. That we are suffering and a burden on our families, the economy and the medical system. There is misinformation about disability and illness because of history, textbooks and media representations. These assumptions infer that we're an inferior race.

Before I found my strong identity and made many friends in the disability community, I would have said NO to bringing a child with Ichthyosis in the world. I don't believe one life is more valuable than another. And I don't like the view that someone like me should never have been born. But from my own experience - and I acknowledge the varying degrees of ichthyosis - this condition can be difficult. But my quality of life in recent years shows the very reason why a child with my condition should be born. Life's great. I feel enriched and empowered. I've made my illness part of my identity. Yet it doesn't define me - I'm more than my illness. I'm proud to be different. Disability culture is rich, and it is important to maintain a diverse society.

I also have more information than potential parents without the gene. I'm not measuring a quality of life by a text book or assumptions, I'm measuring it on my own experiences.

Ichthyosis is painful. My variation is not fatal, but there are forms that are. It's socially challenging. People are cruel. But. I've learnt to cope well. It's not something to be pitied. I'm sore but I'm not suffering. Treatments are progressing. I am ok, but how can I know whether my child will cope in the same way? While I don't want a cure for my own ichthyosis, my feelings about the responsibility of carrying this condition to another generation are unclear.

Would I knowingly pass ichthyosis onto my child, despite the experience and infomation I have acquired? Could I put my baby through what I've been through? The little person that I'd love and protect more than anyone else in this world? I'm not sure if I could.

This post was written after reading Stella Young's Ramp Up article and watching the very confronting SBS Insight - both about genetic screening.

Unwanted medical advice

Pop over to Kiki and Tea to read why I don't want medical advice from someone other than my doctor. I don't want alternative creams, I don't want prayers and I don't want judgement.

Clickety click.

Have a great day! Oh and have you tried aloe vera?

Interview with Paul de Gelder - shark attack survivor.

Last month, I met a man that I call Superman. Paul de Gelder was the keynote speaker at the Layne Beachley Aim for the Stars ball. He talked about how he went from teenage rouseabout to drug user and strip club worker to working in the military - first as a soldier in the Army then as a Navy Clearance Diver. In February 2009, Paul's life changed again while conducting an anti-terrorism exercise in Sydney Harboour. A shark attacked him so severely he lost his right forearm and leg. He told us his story with authenticity, humour and larrikinism, and this is what impressed me so much. 

In his book, No Time for Fear, Paul tells of the moment the shark attacked him:

"I felt an almighty whack on the leg. I didn't think too much of it at first. It didn't hurt.
Half a second later I turned over, looked down to check my leg and saw the huge grey head of a bull shark, one of nature's most aggressive man-eaters. What's more, I could see the upper row of its teeth across my leg.

Its lip was pulled back and its mouth looked enormous.

We must have stared at each other for about three seconds but as soon as I recovered from the shock, I started fighting for my life.

I couldn't seem to move my arm. It was pinned down by my side. I hadn't realised my hand was also in its mouth. I tried to stab it in the eyeball with my other hand. I tried to push its nose, but my hand just slid off, like pushing a slippery concrete wall.

I pulled back my left arm and punched the shark as hard as I could on the nose.

It started shaking me like a dog would a rag doll. The shark pulled me down under the water, continuing to shake me.

The second time I went under I could only see bubbles in front of my face.

I no longer felt any pain. I couldn't do anything. I was totally helpless. Everything was quiet. There was just a deep silence." (Excerpt published in the Daily Telegraph)

After the shark attack, Paul spent two months in hospital, and upon returning home, he felt like his life was over. He was in severe physical and emotional pain. He wasn't sure how he'd continue to live the energetic life he had done before. He hated what he'd become - his body had lost two limbs. But then he made the decision to work very hard to rehabilitate himself. He vowed to work twice as hard as able bodied people, and train three times as hard, so he could lead the best life he could. I remember him saying during his speech "I was told I could go back to work three half days a week. So I went back five full days". He also said that a day after his leg was amputated, he was doing one armed chin ups with the overhead bar on his bed - this did not impress his doctor! 

He showed us images and a video of the shark attack, his rehabilitation, and his work as a motivational speaker and shark conservationist. Some of the video is extremely graphic - showing the damage the shark did to his leg. He said that at most events he speaks at, audience members (usually blokey men) pass out watching this video. 

Paul has an amazing spirit - so much determination and humour. He was so lovely when I met him, posing for photos and talking to me about my work. We are Facebook friends now. I particularly love this motto (from his book):

"Life is here to be lived. And with the right attitude and willingness to deal with the hurdles, it can be bloody awesome."

He has recently left the Navy to pursue writing, speaking and education full time. He is also a passionate environmental conservationalist, highlighting the importance of protecting sharks.

(Source: Paul de Gelder)

He did this interview for me to share with you. 

Carly: Tell me what made you go from drugs and strip clubs to an important position in the Navy?

Paul: "By the time I hit 23 years old, I realised that my life was going around in a vicious circle and I wasn't actually accomplishing anything.I knew there was so much out in the world to see and do but i just had no way of being a part of it, or any idea how to get out of my rut.

On advice from my mum I talked to my younger brothers who were in the Royal Australian Artillery Corps and finally decided to become an Infantry soldier in the Army.

After 5 years I became a bit bored with my job and went looking for a more exciting role in the military, which was when i stumbled across the Navy Clearance Divers."


What sort of things do you do in your job? Where have you been deployed to? 

P: "As an Airborne Infantry Soldier I was trained in frontline combat and peacekeeping. I'd travelled all over Australia,  Noumea and served 6 months in East Timor. As a Navy Clearance diver I've been trained to conduct Clandestine underwater missions, Mine Counter Measures, Underwater battle damage repair and Explosive ordnance disposal on land and underwater."

Tell me about the shark attack? How severe was it? What injuries did you come away with?

"The shark attack was very severe and i only survived because of the first aid of my fellow divers, great doctors and paramedics and my overall fitness.

The shark took my whole hamstring including 22cm's of my sciatic nerve, missing my femoral artery by mm's, it also tore of my right hand."

You spoke about the pain you endured after the shark attack. What was the point when you decided you would fight this and become superman? 

"Hahaha Superman's a bit of a stretch but I had plenty of time to think while laying in a hospital bed for 9 weeks. I realised the crappy position I was in but my pride wouldnt let me give in.

I'd trained so hard and so long to reach this position in my life and I'd be damned if i was going to let a 10 second incident take it all away from me.

There was 2 choices, Ii could wallow in misery and be useless like I once was or I could do just like I'd been trained in the military and get on with the job and laugh at the challenge."

You mentioned three words:
Improvise
Adapt
Overcome 
How has your life changed since the attack?

"My whole life is different now. Some changes were instantaneous, not having two legs for instance and others of a more progressive nature such as my change of career.

As a whole though, life is slower and somewhat harder but thats fine. Just because my life is different doesn't make it worse. I was always chasing adventure and challenges and by god did I get one.

So I treat it as it is, challenges to overcome and adventures to be had."

Tell me about the work you do now - education, motivational speaking and writing?

"It's a lot safer than my last 2 jobs, i can say that and not as adrenaline fueled. It does however grant me personal satisfaction and a sense of triumph in other ways.
I used to be petrified of public speaking and now i'll regularly address audiences in the hundreds. Not only that but my story and life lessons seem to benefit others immensely. This is the greatest reward for my job. The feeling of helping others overcome their challenges in life. Everyone has problems in life, mine are no bigger or better than any one else's, they're just different but there are tools and mindsets that we can use to overcome any problem, big or small. So i feel blessed to be able to share those things."

Tell me about the mateship of the Navy. How have they supported you? 

"Never underestimate the value of good support. Before I could even walk the Chief of Navy announced that I'd always have a job if I wanted one. My mates from the military and my mates that I'd kept since school were by my bedside in an instant, keeping me occupied and laughing. Bonds of friendship are built strongest under hardship and toiling side by side. My friends are more like family to me, always have been."

You said you choose and practice happiness. Why have you made that choice?

"I practice positivity and happiness because whats the other option, negativity and sadness. That's no way to live. I banned negativity from my life because it's useless. I surround myself in strong minded, positive people which breeds and promotes the same in you."

Why are you passionate about protecting sharks when you were eaten alive by one? 

"I'm passionate about protecting all of our environment and eco systems but because of my close link to sharks these days I guess it's easier for me to get a point across. If people can see that I understand the important role they play in our world after what happened and strive to protect them then perhaps they'll listen a little closer and act a little wiser."

How important is humour in your story? I've found humour can lighten the mood when I talk about my condition, is it the same for you? 

"Honestly, there is nothing i love more than a good laugh, it just eases the spirit even in the darkest of times. There were times when I was a soldier where I'd been walking through the bush for weeks only to be dirty, smelly and hungry. Blisters all over my feet from walking and all over my hands from digging fighting pits. My shoulders ached from carrying a 40kg pack and I was exhausted from lack of sleep but no matter how we felt, we could always count on maintaining a sense of humour about it all to keep us going, even if it was laughing at the ridiculous situation we were in."

Tell me what helping others does for you.

"Helping others makes me feel like I have purpose, wether it's one on one or motivating a crowd, peace keeping in East Timor or teaching some one about good nutrition. It provides a sense of happiness and peace that can only be acheived by doing something solely for the benefit of another person." 

(See the subtle photobomb by newsreader Angela Bishop above!)

For more information, see http://pauldegelder.com.

October Grey

I hate my memory. It is too good. And some of my saddest and loveliest moments are lodged in there, like jam in the indents of its jar. Never quite leaving me. Sticky and hard to reach, hard to remove.

It is a month since this. I wrote:

"And so when he announced a huge milestone in his life, I realised it’s no longer fair for either of us to be in contact. These words twisted my stomach. He’s miles away, but too close for comfort. With sadness, I said all that I’ve wanted to say to him, in a carefully crafted letter of course, and held my breath as I hit the unfriend button. A chapter closed. I’ve let go. I ended the letter with “I’ll leave you be, remembering you with fondness, sadness and love. I am glad I played a part in saving your life”. And I am. Now I can breathe".

I've not thought about it too much. The pain was no where near as bad as last year's. Maybe the heart can only break once. But although I feel a weight lifted, I feel a sense of loneliness from being emotionally distanced from. him. But I am not lonely. I just want to share things with him like we did before. Because we were good at that.

He's gone from my life. Yet he still remains. Will he always? I am trying not to remember that today is two years since I took that leap of faith and flew interstate to meet him again. Two years. I fell in love. I fell apart. And I have grown. Ten feet tall.

-

I have been living such a good life lately that in this week or so of down time (which has unfortunately coincided with sore time) I find myself worrying what if I don't find life as enjoyable when the good life isn't happening? Will I have to keep going at full speed to continually feeling this adrenaline rush? Is the good life that I am leading like a drug?

-

The Darren Hayes fanclub announced it is winding up next year. Darren has no immediate plans. He has given us beautiful music for 16 years now - I still remember the first time I saw him on TV. He is taking a break. I wrote this to him via his Facebook:

"Darren - thank you for being one of the biggest influences in my life. You mean so much to me, only fans will understand that feeling. I hope you have a well deserved rest, and I hope that you will let us know what has been happening in your life every so often. Thank you for writing music that has given me confidence, created friendships and enabled me to meet you. Thank you for making me feel so special. Much love x"

This was taken in London. Even his posters make me so incredibly happy.

I never expected a popstar to have so much continual influence on me for half my life. He's amazing. It's a break, not retirement. The cessation of the fanclub seems so final. I hope it's not goodbye.

-

My attention span has become poor. Is this a symptom of the internet? Is yours poor too? I have books I want to read, but there is always something else to look at. I eat my lunch at work, phone in hand, scrolling through social media, while reading the newspaper. Is your attention span suffering too?

-

I have had two crushes in a very short amount of time recently. Maybe three. I found myself having purely an intellectual crush. You know when you admire someone for their intelligence, passion, and purpose? And they make you feel so good about yourself. That. And then there's the other crush. He is kind, funny, intelligent, and very cute. I don't know what this is. It is probably nothing between us. (And this paragaph has probably jinxed everything forever.) But, still, I smile. Gosh I like him.

-

"It's been a while. But I still remember the smile you kept for me".
~ October Grey, The Screaming Jets