And now for something completely different.....

Ok, whoever is reading this.. I apologise for what I am about to do. You see, some of you may or may not know that I am now a Film student! I should have done this a long time ago.. I can assure you, it's a hell of a lot more fun than Law.

I have successfully completed Film 101, Scriptwriting, and I'm currently doing, Film Editing and Music for Film. Thanks to Bex and Bif for lending me their MacBook and thus allowing me the pleasure of discovering GarageBand. If anyone out there, musically inclined, has never had a play..... get it anyway you can. It's awesome.

Anyway, as part of one of my many hundreds of assignments, I had to post a synopsis on the 'Blackboard Forum' about John Williams as part of my Music for Film subject and it got me thinking... 1. I friggin love the man and 2. Man, I haven't updated my blog for a while.

As I made a decision to diversify this blog (on all things non-cancer related as I come up to my 1 year anniversary of being in remission) I thought I could share my thoughts on John Williams also.

So... that said, I am about to bore the crap out of you, by ranting and raving about someone who I consider to be the greatest composer of all time. I can hear all the Americans applauding as I write this, but as a Hong Kong-Pom-Australian-New Zealander, I can assure you no geographical bias. I am simply a lover of all things John Williams.

I believe this love affair started when I was about 7 years old. I would sit, glued to the TV and play my beta video tape of E.T over and over again. Yes, I loved Elliott.. but that was back when I also thought Olivia Newton-John was the height of 'cool' and I would ride my bmx whilst listening to Madonna's 'Holiday' on my walk-man, so contextually speaking.. it's all relative.

It wasn't until I was in my teens, that I finally realised, every movie I had ever loved as a kid and then, as a teenager, turned out to be scored by the same guy! Jaws, Star Wars, Close Encounters of the 3rd Kind, Superman, all the Indiana Jones films, Empire of the Sun, Born on the 4th of July, Home Alone, Hook, JFK, Schindlers List, the Jurassic Park films, Seven Years in Tibet, Saving Private Ryan, The Patriot, the Harry Potter films, Minority Report, War of the Worlds (and the list goes on). Unequivocally, I announce John Williams to be the greatest interpreter of film into music in modern history.

Proof of this statement is that today (nostalgia for my glorious youth aside) I cannot watch the famous scene where Elliott and E.T fly past the full moon on his bike as the stunning 'Flying Theme' crescendos (wow I am actually getting chills even as I write this!) without feeling tears prickling my eyes. The music sweeps you along the film, it's immense highs, lows, the chase scenes and the final devastation as E.T leaves. It is so wonderful, I still listen to the soundtrack today. At the 20th Anniversary of the film, the cast re-assembled at a huge theatre in LA and in what could be a first (certainly, I have never heard of this being done in recent times) they had John Williams and a full symphony orchestra play the soundtrack to the film live, in front of the audience (watch the bonus footage on the dvd if you can.. this was no easy feat!). Spielberg removed all soundtrack from the film and as a testament to John Williams, he was able to conduct the orchestra in perfect unison with the movie that was playing to a huge audience behind him. The result? The audience got the full blown effect of the stunning score and there wasn't a dry eye in the house at 'lights up'. To have been there to witness that... wow!

Talking about iconic themes... you cannot go past 'Jaws' as the quintessential benchmark for film scoring. John Williams, in all his brilliance composes a theme for a shark (no easy feat - go on.. I dare you to give it a try!). In the bonus footage of the 20th Anniversary edition of the dvd (Jaws is my favourite movie ever) there is an amazing scene where John Williams is sitting at his grand piano. Steven Spielberg has been called in to hear what John has composed. When John starts to play those simply, yet exceeding low, chilling piano notes, Spielberg is stunned to silence... and history is created in that moment.

Proving not to be a fluke... the collaboration between Spielberg and Williams continues to this day. Williams' filmography speaks for itself.

Other musical standouts being:

* Schindlers List (I defy anyone to get through the final scene where Oscar flees the Czech camp with a ring and petition of his innocence signed by the Jews whose lives he saved, without balling their bloody eyes out).
* The iconic and wonderful Indiana Jones films
* The Star Wars movies
* And another personal favourite of mine, Seven Years in Tibet. Williams is able to successfully translate his music into different cultures sublimely.

Ok, I guess that's enough (told you I would rant) this is a blog post, not an essay.

On a finishing note... if you are ever stuck to get a present for someone, who happens to be a film nut, or just a lover of music... buy them the definitive 3 cd collection of John Williams' greatest work. They will get a shock when they recognise 90% of his scores off the bat and it always makes for great fodder for any quiz night enthusiasts.

Enjoy :)

A Year On...

Hey gorgeous people,

I woke up this morning and a strange thought crossed my mind. My god... a year ago I was having chemo! (unintentional rhyme people, I do not wake up and 'rap'). Hard to believe last July, I was bald, living in Melbourne and sick, sick, sick. Firstly, can I just say how bloody glad I am to be here! (Can I get a FUCK YEAH!). Secondly, I have no idea where the time has gone. It has literally flown by. Its a strange thing, looking back on it retrospectively and there are some things I wanted to share with you all.

After reading all the self-help, motivational and inspirational books the Cancer Society send me and well-meaning friends and co-workers pass onto me, I felt like I had finally come out the other side. That I had really, truly made it. Aside from the three monthly check ups and the five years of hormone treatments (Tamoxifen) I am on the Up, through the tunnel, hit rock bottom and now climbing back up the great metaphorical hill of life.. and all the other cliched bullshit.

And to a degree... I am. But (and yes my dear readers, there is always a BUT) sometimes I don't feel like celebrating.

Its like the strange calm after a storm. Where the wind has died down and there is nothing but the smell of lingering rain as the sky clears and you are able to finally stand there and look at the devastation caused.

I look ok on the outside. The scars have healed, my breast (albeit smaller than the other one) is still there. My hair is growing back nicely and I feel pretty good. I'm susceptible to lots of things going around (colds, flus etc) but I am told the chemo compromised my immune system so that's a bit of a no brainer.

Generally I am feeling very positive. I have made some huge changes and finally booked my ticket to the USA. I had planned to head there before I got sick and now... well, I know better than anyone not to put off till tomorrow what can be done today - or whatever the fuck that saying is.

My advice and message to people out there who know someone going through what I went through, is just because the fight is fought and the battle is won, don't stop the messages and communication. In fact, one the storm has passed, its more important than ever to show your support.

Once a cancer patient is told they're in remission, they are ushered out of the hospital that was their home over the last year. They have to say goodbye to the nurses, doctors and staff, who have been there through thick and thin. They have to say goodbye (often last goodbyes) to fellow patients, many of whom will lose their own battles and they are cast back into the wide, wide world.

There is an expectation for survivors to get back on the horse and get on with living.. but its not quite as simple as that. You do not feel as strong as you were before - in fact, you feel downright vulnerable. You feel unsure of just how much celebrating to do, in case IT comes back. Even if you are positive, like me, and excited about the future, that terrifying thought lays at the back of your mind. Like a dormant bear.. hibernating.

So, reach out again people. Never stop. You have no idea how much it means. The world can feel a big lonely place, when you are pulled out of it and reinstated 12 months later and everything has continued without you, as normal.

Really makes you question who you are and the impact you truly have.

If my friends and family are a testament to who I am... well I am pretty proud of that.

Love you all

Ems xxx

DJ CUPBOARD & BEXY BOO

Hi Guys
Sorry for neglecting my blog. Due to the overwhelming outcry and threats, I have finally posted another entry..... ha, yeah right! No, I just told Bif and Bex that I would put them up on my blog. Both of them being quite shy, I am not sure they hugely appreciate my posting their picture up in the eternity of the information superhighway, but there it is! Love you guys!

Well I would like to let you know how the hell I have been these past... wait... 9 months (holy shit that went quick) but frankly, I would probably bore you and I just don't have the energy, but I will soon, dear reader... I will.

At this point, I'd like to give a shout out to a certain guy (you know who you are) who has given me more than he knows. He's super special and I'm so stoked to have him in my life.

I want to tell Sam and Gareth how much I miss and love you. So excited for the future for you guys!

I want to tell Kate that she rocks.

I want to tell Kitty that I am always right beside her and she will yet, rule the world.. oh and next time we play for my yacht in Cannes for your Scottish Castle - see ya Friday night. Same bar.. same pool table.

I want to tell Craig and Saskia that you will overcome this tragedy stronger than ever and that we should all aspire to be as in love as you two are.

James and Ruthie BBBBBBBBBB... have a bloody Guinness for me in Ireland. Give my love to Damien and Ems11 and hurry back, we have a birthday to plan!!

Back to me...

It would seem that this 'fatigue' monster they talked about does in fact, rear its ugly head many months after all the treatment has finished. He is a rare and insidious monster, never quite in your face, but sometimes lurking behind you. He appears randomly and comes and goes as quickly as an awkward one-night-stand (for which, I am truly grateful). I endured such an attack this morning which rendered me in bed for the day. Not quite so tragic as it allowed me the time to do something important, like write this blog.... sleep.... eat an apple... sleep.... oh yeah, and I also changed the colour scheme of my blog.... think I may go back to sleep now.

Much exciting news to come.. hence the bright colour scheme. I considered changing the name of my blog as Fuck the Lump just doesn't apply to my life right now... but I couldn't think of another title that fit. "Fuck the Bump (on my head from getting pissed and falling down last Friday night)" just doesn't have the same ring to it. "Fuck the Dump?" Nah... never go there.. awful smelly place. "Fuck the Jump?" Doesn't make sense and I have nothing against Van Halen.

So Fuck the Lump it remains.

Sending so much love to you wherever you are in the world. And if I haven't told you lately, I treasure you.

xxx

I'm PUBLISHED!!

I am sooooo excited. I am officially "published". YAY! A massive thank you to Jess for making the article happen. Kinda ironic that October is Breast Cancer Awareness month.

What's next? World Domination.. one newspaper article at a time. Mwoahhahahaaaa Mwohahahahahaa!

Here's a copy of the article I wrote:

“The Perspective Bat”

I call the day I was given my cancer diagnosis, the day I was hit with “The Perspective Bat”. Being 32 years old didn’t make the news any easier. I honestly thought Breast Cancer only applied to women over 40. That it would never happen to me. Well, the battle I’ve fought and subsequently won over the last 9 months has taught me a scary but valuable lesson. Cancer doesn’t discriminate. It doesn’t care if you are a good person, a mother, a child, a teacher or a lawyer. It doesn’t care what you do, if you donate to charity or rescue orphaned animals. It can affect all of us, so we must be smart and diligent, doing everything we can to keep this disease at bay.

Cancer doesn’t have to be a death sentence anymore. In fact I prefer to think of it as a ‘Life Sentence’. The journey becomes an opportunity to reflect, re-shape, re-connect and re-evaluate. I certainly wished many times over the last year that I had worked out a little more (and perhaps consumed a little less wine) but at the end of the day listening to your body and getting checked are the most important things we can do. Early detection saves lives, it’s a simple fact. I know, because it saved mine.

Despite being scared, questioning why, and the occasional moments of despair, so much good has come out of my battle this year. Facing mortality at a young age has enabled me to make necessary changes to my life, to ensure the rest of it is a good and long one.

Chemotherapy makes you re-evaluate things you once considered important. I liked having long hair, it made me feel.. well… like me! Once it was gone, I became a naked version of myself. But like a phoenix rising through the ashes, I feel reborn with my new hair, albeit it a little fuzzier version of itself. Vanity became redundant once I saw myself looking like the Dalai Lama. It just wasn’t important anymore. Friends, family, unconditional support and lots of laughter, these are the important things that truly get us through life’s adversities.

October is Breast Cancer Awareness month and is poignant to me for several reasons. Firstly because it’s the month where the disease, that could have taken my life, is brought to the forefront of all of our minds. It’s the month I came home to my incredibly supportive and wonderful friends, here in Wanaka. It’s the month I was told I am officially in remission and the month of my birthday, that I will celebrate with more fervour than ever before.. but with a little less wine… maybe….

Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore....

Home Sweet Home! I can't believe I left here on the 16th of February, crying, scared and here I am... 15th October (Happy Birthday Ian Reiser - kisses!!) home again, in remission and with a newer healthier outlook on life. I am absolutely over the moon to finally write EMMA - 1, CANCER - NIL. Takes more than cancer to keep this bitch down, heh heh.

We got into town on Friday, it was freezing cold. It was snowing at ground level at Lake Tekapo and the mountains were all covered in snow, but you wouldn't know it today, sunny, balmy and blue skies.

Friday night, the crew all got together in front of the fireplace at Woodys (my favourite spot in the world really) and we got it on. I can proudly say there was only a few tears, we were all in too good spirits - pun absolutely intended.

The night kicked on as did the drinks. For those of you not on Facebook, I ended up playing pool and drinking with Shaun White (no.1 snowboarder in the world) with my mates. I had no idea who he was and decided in my alcoholically-induced wisdom to call him my "bitch" as we downed shots at the bar.

It wasn't until I googled him the next day that I began to groan and slap my head. How was I to know the man is a snowboard / skateboarding god, Olympic gold medalist, worth millions with a lamborghini and his own playstation games on the way? Not that it would have mattered mind you.

Well, at least he will probably remember me now ("remember me? I'm that drunk cow in Wanaka who kept calling you my bitch"). Anyhoo, many drinks later I appreciate Craig throwing me into a cab and sending me home, sometime around 3am... thanks guys!

Melbourne was wonderful to me in so many ways. I was able to get the best treatment, perhaps in the world. I re-connected with my amazing family and I got to spend time with my beautiful friends, Leon, Liss, Ian, Claire, Max, Chrissie, Ash, Glen Husko, Toomer, Bianca Wilson, Jo Bo, Steve & Catriona, Morag, Renee Marais, Steve & Caroline, Clare (from NZ) and heaps others....... but I have to say that finally, I really do feel like I am home.

Virginia, Jet Boat James, Ruthie 1 and Ruthie 2 and everyone who went out of their way to help, from flowers in the house, to cleaning our cars (who does that???) THANK YOU from my whole family. We have never felt so loved and appreciated. I am so blessed to have you all.

I sit here, having just come back from a walk down the road. The sun was shining, the ipod was cranking and the mountains were breathtaking. I took a moment, turned my face to the sun and just breathed.

When was the last time you did that?

Love you guys

xox

PLEASE READ THIS

In the last 8 months there have been times when I have asked where, what, when and how. I have never asked why? Why me? You get told you have cancer, you just say ok now what? I think I never asked why me, because I knew the answer is cancer doesn’t discriminate. Maybe I got this disease because my sister or mother couldn’t have coped if it had happened to them, or I wouldn’t have coped if it happened to them (or anyone else I love). Perhaps this happened to me because I was strong enough to deal with it, but that doesn’t mean it’s any easier to accept.

You can’t spend five minutes in a room with me, tell me that I look good considering and get any idea of what I have been through in the last year. I want to tell people that, despite my smiles I've been tested emotionally, physically and poked, prodded and pulled every way possible. I have been left a shell of my former self.

The fact that I smile makes the journey seem easier to those in my life and I am glad that I exude that, but those people never spent an hour every day on a steel table undergoing radiation therapy, which left me blistered, broken, sore and tired in a way I never thought was humanly possible.

They weren’t there on the days when my family and I wondered if this disease was going to kill me.

They weren’t there for the surgery, when I was told I'd lose my nipple or my breast and that I still might if the cancer comes back. That I will never know what it is like to breast-feed a child.

They weren’t there on the day when I was told I was unique, because I was young. Because I was single. Because I had never had children. That mammograms or testing for genetic breast cancers wouldn’t apply to me. That I was a medical anomaly.

They never stared in the mirror at my patchy pathetic looking head as the hair fell out in clumps.

They weren’t there on the days during chemo, when I didn’t have the strength to walk to the bathroom or the state of mind to take my own medication.

They weren’t there on the nights I cried myself to sleep because the twilight felt a million times more lonely when you’re away from your friends, your job and you had forgotten where you belonged in the world.

They never puked into a bucket with me, watching the anguish in my sisters eyes as she stared helplessly, wanting this to end and to have her sister back, the way she was.

They never sat there with the fertility specialist who told me if I lose my fertility, that adopting an overseas child was a good option as Australian law practically precludes me from selection for adoption with a history of having cancer.

They never saw me cry after hanging up skype from Mum and Dad or Craig or Kate, who told me they loved me and meant it in a more sincere way than I had ever heard before.

They never heard from Mark, who told me for the first time in 20 years that he had no idea how to be there for me right now.

They never knew I wondered why I was deserving of any admiration for just trying to get through this.

They never understood the notion of being surrounded by a hundred people and yet feeling totally alone. Waking in a lonely, single bed, with no man beside me to tell me everything was going to be all right.

I don’t tell you this in hope of sympathy… only that you may get some insight. That some people project an image of strength, but deal with internal adversity every day. I may smile on the outside but that doesn’t mean I don’t have moments of pure despair too.

I met a woman while going though radiotherapy. I was in the waiting area, sitting like I did every day, in my blue hospital gown with a smile on my face, rubbing my bald head, trying to think of something funny to tell the radiotherapy team to help make the day go quicker for us all. A sweet older Italian woman sat beside me. She told me her name is Paula. She asks me where my cancer is and I tell her I have breast cancer. I go on about the indignity of having to get my boobs out everyday for the invariably changing (and often male) radiologists, thinking this will at least get a chuckle out of my fellow cancer patient.

She smiles and tells me that I’m lucky. She has rectal cancer. She says the only thing worse than the actual cancer is the loss of her dignity having to show her ass to the world for the last 6 months and knowing it is all in vain. She tells me with a brave and heartfelt smile on her face that she is losing her battle. I become acutely aware that this is the last time I will see this lovely lady. I muster all my strength to maintain my smile for her and not shed a tear. I am suddenly feeling like the luckiest person in the room.

Take a moment, dear reader, and put yourself in my position. I am a single 32 year old woman with breast cancer, who meets a women with terminal rectal cancer and considers herself lucky?? Please just take a moment.

I sit here on a Friday, aware that the rest of my friends are drinking, laughing and screwing their ways through life tonight - for which I am eternally grateful. I however, find myself trying to accept this lesson from Paula and all the other amazing people (their faces flash through my mind as I write this) I have met over the last 8 months that will lose their fight with this awful disease. Each one of them, someone’s mother, father, brother, sister, wife or husband has amazed me with their will to live and to accept their fate with their heads held high.

I hope beyond everything, that my story provides YOU with some strength throughout your own battles to stay on this planet even just for one more day, because god knows some beautiful people I've met are fighting for that chance.

Please also know this. That regardless of what hand life deals you, that I will be there with open arms, to hear you, to understand you and be there for you unconditionally. Because if nothing else, my beautiful friend, of all my useless questioning why, I was given this challenge to enable me to be there for those I love, as you, have been there for me.

Sound simple? Perhaps it is.
xxx

Eye of the Tiger, Pan-flutes, hernias and hysteria....

I went for a cheap massage today it was heaven! The only problem was when I was on the table being rubbed into a gooey heap by a young Chinese male masseuse, this music started playing and it gave me the giggles. And you know me… once I get started…

The music was one of those cheesy Asian imitations of Chariots of Fire. As soon as the badly synthesized string section kicked in mixed with a Casiotone styled Bossa Nova drum beat, I couldn’t help myself. I started smiling… then my smile turned into a chuckle… and as the music became more and more dramatic (boom boom chuckka chukka – da da da da daaaaa daaaaaa, boom boom chukka chukka) I ended up just losing it in a fit of giggles.

My poor masseuse didn’t know what was going on. He must have thought he was tickling me and that was why I was laughing, so he started massaging my lower back even harder, which was getting painful, but I was laughing so hard by this stage, I couldn’t tell him.

By now, the song has hit full crescendo (since when did Chariots of Fire have bird noises and a synthesized guitar solo??). It started to sound like the London Symphony Orchestra had all had a hit on a crack pipe and were in the room with us, playing stoned. Meanwhile my little Chinese man is about to bust a hernia using all his strength to pound the crap out of this chick on his table, inexplicably laughing her ass off. Picturing the scenario made me even more hysterical. The poor guy didn’t know what to do so kept going, harder and harder. I was soon a beaten, broken mess on the table, choking red and unable to breath, tears streaming down my face, into the hole in the table and forming a pool underneath me. Finally the song finished and I was able to draw breath.

The masseuse stopped the torture and excused himself sweating and breathing heavily, to get a drink of water. I was thinking to myself how this was the best $20 and 20 minutes of the funniest shit ever as I wiped the tears from my eyes. Finally with my hysterical fit well and truly over, I relaxed back down and my exhausted but undefeated masseuse came back into the room to start on my neck…

Then the next song started… Eye of the Tiger with pan-flutes… oh dear god…

Never washing my head again!!!!

All I can say is wow. Last night, not only did I go to an absolutely kick ass concert by Ben Folds, but I got to meet and hang out with the guy. I will try to get all of this down, because I still have to pinch myself that it all really happened!

Two days before the concert, my sis contacted the Palais Theatre about a possible 'meet & greet' with Ben. Not holding out much hope, the day of the concert arrived with no response from Sammys emails. At 2pm, I had resigned myself to not meeting the man and got ready for the concert. I was just so excited about seeing him live.

Dad rang at 3pm saying he had just spoke to Sam and she still had not heard from anyone, so a little disappointed but still exited I jumped in the shower and got ready. Unable to accept defeat Dad made a phone call to Frontier Touring to see if there was anything they could do. Dad rang me back about 5 minutes later and asked if I had some nice eye make-up?? When I asked him why… he said "Because you are going to meet Ben Folds tonight". I lost my fucking mind! We were going to be taken back-stage after the concert and Ben wanted to meet me. I screamed and then cried ... lots.

After the a mind-blowingly great concert with just Ben, a grand piano and two hours of incredible music, the lights went up and dad got a call from Gerard and down to the lobby we went. Gerard was a lovely guy with a big smile who shook our hands, gave us both back stage passes and off we went, back through the theatre, through the stage doors to the back of the stage full of roadies and sound gear. Dodging cables and low doorways we made our way through a maze of corridors into a waiting empty dressing room.

The whole way there I was telling Gerard how nervous I was, but he insisted it was unnecessary as Ben was such a good guy and that they were happy to be able to be able to do this for me. He offered us both a water and returned with a couple of bottles for us while we waited for Ben to arrive. We didn’t wait long. Ben walked in, cool as a cucumber with a beer in his hand. He walked straight up to me and gave me a big hug. I couldn’t believe it!! I said it was such an honour to meet him. Ben said it was cool and he was pleased to be there as he shook Dad's hand. He was totally relaxed and really happy to be talking to us. I was surprised that the 4 of us were the only people in the room. He was totally there for us!

We talked about how awesome the concert was. He thanked us but said he'd made some stuff ups. He'd just come from doing two nights at the Sydney Opera House using a Steinway grand piano, which he had liked and gotten used to. He felt all out of whack when he played the piano here, which explains why he was mucking around with the piano stool during his concert. He made a comment like “something's wrong with my stool” and the audience laughed at the 'poo' reference. I told him you couldn’t tell that he had made any errors and that the crowd was really interactive and just loved him regardless. Then I said “besides, it gives you an opportunity to say fuck". He laughed, then realising my dad was ok with the swearing, he said he “fucked up” a couple of times, which was cool.

I asked if he was classically trained, as his piano performance blew us away. He said he plays by ear (after mentioning his musical start was in bass guitar and drums – he didn’t even sit at a piano till he was 23). He said he hears the melody in his head and he bangs it out on the piano until the tune sounds the way it does in his head, which was fascinating. He is such a prodigy.

Dad thanked Ben and said how much this meant to me after the rough year I had so far. I noticed that he was looking at me when Dad was saying that and I was looking down and I agreed that this was the best thing that had happened to me this year. He said he was more than happy and then mentioned that I looked great considering (he said on two separate occasions how good I look which was so sweet).

Ben talked about his father-in-law going through chemo and I said that my hair was growing back with a vengeance. I took off my head scarf to show him. He said “Ooh, can I touch it?” and I was like “Sure go for it!” and I bent my head in his direction and he RUBBED MY HEAD!! "It's so soft!" he said, which made us all laugh. It was so weird hanging with the guy, like he was an old mate!

I told him he is always welcome to come and stay with us if he ever heads over to Wanaka and he said he'd love to (imagine the sing along around the piano!). Then this guy Shannon from Fontier Touring said he wanted to get a couple of photos, so Ben put his arm around me and I did the same and we had two photos taken. I was beaming, as you can see!!

We talked about heaps of stuff, from his wife Fleur getting her helicopter license, to his passion for photography. He was so chatty and amiable and kept smiling at me. Finally, Ben said he’d like to see me again soon or something like that and I said, "Problem is I won’t be sick then, I’ll be all better!". He just laughed and said “that’s cool make up some shit and come see me backstage again” and gave me another big hug. Ben was incredibly humble and really didn’t seem in a hurry to leave at all, considering he had just done a gruelling 2 hour solo performance. He was totally calm, funny, kind, warm, smelt great and was affectionate and reassuring.

Thanks to Sammy, Dad, Gerard and Shannon at Frontier Touring and of course, thanks to Ben. You have made this girl very, very happy. This is one of the best things that has ever happened to me and means so much considering the shitty year I've had so far. I am so blessed. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

So excited!

I am so incredibly excited. Tomorrow night I am finally going to see my idol in the flesh at the Palais Theatre in St Kilda. Yep… its BEN FOLDS!!!! As soon as I saw he was coming to Melbourne I jumped online and boughts ticket for Dad and myself. Although the purchase rendered me broke for the next fortnight I know he’s gonna be worth every penny.

Dad loved ‘Whatever and Ever, Amen’ so much he used to take it to work with him (the coolest Dad) so I knew he’d be stoked I bought him a ticket too. Besides… it’s nice to be able to do something with Dad that doesn’t involve hospitals and cancer stuff for once.

Ben Folds and I seem to have been crossing paths for many years now, but finally I am in the right place at the right time to see him, kinda ironic considering the year I have had!!

I had a small epiphany yesterday when I was raving to the folks about the brilliance that is Mr Folds. I realised that I have been listening to him for nearly 15 years! (age denial is a wonderful thing). His music has been a real constant in my life though not always at the forefront… more like a background theme, like the ‘musical score’ to the film of my life so far. The man is a genius. If any of you haven’t heard of him, you are missing out. If you love amazing jazz/rock styled piano, stunning harmonies (ELO & Supertramp would be impressed) catchy and gorgeous melodies and some of the sweetest most profound lyrics of our generation, ch-ch-check him out.

You may know him from the song Brick which was a bit of a commercial hit years ago (“She’s a brick and I’m drowning slowly”). Also his rendition of “Bitches Aint Shit” is frigging hilarious! So do yourself the favour.

Anyway, I digress …

Radiotherapy is racing through now. I am officially in Week 6 as of tomorrow and I can't wait to finish. The side effects are really kicking in now and I just want this phase over so I can concentrate on the next phase... Hormone Therapy.

Sadly, we need to shut down my reproductive system over the next 5 years, as my cancer cells are attracted to the estrogen in my body. At absolute worst I may need to have a hysterectemy.. at best I will be rendered chemically menopausal (yes, with all the shitty symptoms of menopause) for 5 years. Not fun at all as we just don't know if we will be able to re-start my system when all of this is done. The thought of not being able to have children weighs heavily on my mind. This is just not cool stuff for a single 32 year old to have. Sigh!

I am so over all of this to be honest. I am sick of it all. I am sick of hospitals. I am sick of worrying. I am sick of.... well... being sick. I just want my life back!!

On a happier note, I am generally in good spirits. My hair is growing back with a vengeance and it's a glorious sunny day in Melbourne.

Gonna run now, love to you all as always. Thanks so much for the continued love and support. You are truly the wind beneath my wings (bleck!)

xxxx

p.s Ben’s a wicked photographer too. Check out some of his photos on Twitter… especially the ones where he has used infra-red film. They are amazing.

p.p.s I have to report that CHRISTIAN SLATER is following ME on Twitter! I don't think he really knew what he was doing.. he had about 400 fans following him on there and he went through and clicked to 'follow' all of us! So he is getting updated every time I post a tweet. Hilarious!

I'm still alive...

Hey Guys

I am blogging to you from Balwyn which is somewhere between Box Hill (where I get radiation therapy) and my new home in Ivanhoe. I am sitting here with mum and dad and I got dad to agree to a photo (despite his rotten flu) so everyone say HI to Dad!

Yep, I am officially in my own place and I LOVES IT!! I'm staying in hospital run flats with lots of old ladies who drink tea in the common room, but the peace and quiet absolutely rocks. I awoke to the sound of birds chirping from my balcony and the sun was streaming through the kitchen window and I finally realised I am in Week 4 of radiotherapy. FUCK YEAH!!! Only a couple more weeks to go and I am done.

Had a bit of a drama this week, whilst staying at my cousin's house, their dog decided to break into my room and chew my only pair of very expensive glasses. I was devastated. Anyhoo, I went to the Optometrist and he said he would do a new eye test to check my prescription. Whilst looking into my right eye he said unfortunately my optic nerve was swollen. At worst, that could mean a metasticised brain tumour. I had extensive MRI tests done yesterday and I am thankful to say that after a couple of sleepless nights, I am in the clear. I don't have a brain tumour *Arnold Schwarzenegger voice "It's not a tooomer"*

So feeling on top of the world right now. On the count down to getting home - for me, that's Wanaka. I miss everyone there soooooo much.

Best go, before this coffee rush wears off.

Love you all.
Ems xxx