Today is day 31 of my two months on what I call "the regime". I am doing this willingly, with the support of my wonderful naturopath, Anja, who is one of the sensible ones. The regime is this. Eat what you like, but the rules are:
No gluten
No dairy
No refined sugar (Fruit is okay, berries are better than tropical fruit)
No caffeine (and this is including decaf coffee)
No alcohol.
Basically, nothing fun.
You ask what I'm eating? Well, lots. I've been instructed to keep red meat and salmon down to once a week. But eggs, chicken and white fish are staples. There's lots of veggies. Quite a bit of fruit. Some gluten free wraps and bread. Fats are kept to avocado and olive oil - and maybe the odd scrape of butter if I'm having vegemite toast.
I'm supplementing my protein intake with shakes - whey protein is good - pea protein tastes grainy and Anya has approved this.
And I've got used to this and I'm enjoying things so far.
Have there been changes?
Well, I'm not craving sugar - and I'm thrilled about this. At the depot in Darwin last week, a place that is shrouded in lollies - not one was taken. So proud of myself.
Eating out is not that hard - going for the gluten and dairy free option makes it easy. If you're really stuck, steak and salad fit the bill.
Rice paper rolls are my lunch of choice. I make pretty good rice paper spring rolls.
And my favourite snack is rice cakes with hummus and peppers.
I've broken ranks twice over the month.
One cup of almond decaf latte in Darwin, just to be sociable - and by rights, it still fits the no dairy and caffeine edict.
And one can of seltzer by the pool with colleagues. It was enjoyed.
So yes, I've had one coffee and one drink over the month.
How am I feeling?
Fantastic. I'm not hungry. I've got plenty of energy. My skin is clear, blood pressure down around the realms of normal, my head is focused and my body is not aching. I feel strong.
After falling asleep at the cinema the night before, I wanted to redeem myself, and it being Grand Final day and Melbourne feels about as sleepy as a small country town (everybody seems to have gone away for the long weekend) it was a great day to go catch up on some movies. Also, as I'm only in town for two weeks before heading back to Darwin, I'm trying to get some culture in before going back in two weeks.
And maybe I was feeling a bit nostalgic for an English film, with the announcement of the passing of Dame Maggie Smith (bless her acerbic wit).
So, The Critic, it was, especially as it was on a pre-release showing.
Sir Ian McKellen plays Jimmy Erskine, a powerful theatre critic in 1930s London. Flamboyant (read gay), somewhat acerbic (read cruel) and intelligent (read manipulative) his life is turned upside down when the media mogul who has been protecting him for most of his life up and dies, and his son David (Mark Strong) takes over. Jimmy is a bit of a bon vivant, having the services of his faithful 'secretary' Tom (Alfred Enoch)
After giving the actress Nina Land (Gemma Arterton) a bad review, the actress, fearing a failing career, approaches the critic for assistance.
Also, in the background, the embattled Nina has been in an affair with Stephen (Ben Barnes) who is married to David's daughter.
It's all a bit incestuous.
This has been pitched as a mystery and a thriller. I'd say it was more a melodrama. This lacked the tension of a good thriller, Yet, in saying that this is a very enjoyable movie. There's enough funny stuff to keep you amused, plenty of twists and turns to keep you on your toes and a brilliant showing of London in the 1930s.
Sir Ian looks like he's having a great time. He even gets his 85-year-old nipples out in the bath. And the cast is a mix of some of England's finest actors. Romola Garai and Lesley Manville are also in the mix.
The film is based on Anthony Quinn's book of the same name and the screenplay was penned by Patrick Marber, who was responsible for Notes on a Scandal and Closer. Anand Tucker's direction is assured - he does well with the historical genres as his direction of The Girl with the Pearl Earring proves.
My last thought is though this is publicised as a mystery and thriller, I think it sits better in the drama category. It's an enjoyable film with some of the best of British cinema out there touting their wares. Is it the best British film out there - no. But it is very enjoyable.
Today, I spent too much time on the phone and the internet trying to sort out some joyful banking issues.
My credit card has been compromised.
Arseholes.
There was an incident last week where I had a smaller amount taken from my account. Somebody had bought some Telstra Prepaid credit on my card. I called both Telstra and the bank immediately, told them both that there was no way I could do a point-of-sale transaction on my card in Melbourne at 1.20 a.m. when I was asleep in Darwin.
Bastards.
Anyway, the charge has been disputed, Telstra gave me a case number, the bank has put a dispute on it and I should eventually get my funds back.
However, because I was in Darwin at the time, I couldn't cancel the card. Travelling, no matter that it's for work, travelling without an operational credit card wasn't something I was willing to risk. I'd just have to be hypervigilant with the credit card activity.
Today, I found another errant charge.
This time, it was for more. $345 at a store called Honey Birdette - basically an up market sex shop.
As I explained to the bot, I don't think they do my size. Regardless, it meant another hour on the phone to the bank.
This time, the card has been stopped and a new card ordered, I'll be transferring funds onto a debit card for the interim so I can at least pay for a few things.
But it's the bloody inconvenient.
At to the scammers - may the fleas of a thousand camels nestled in their arm pits.
It is a lovely day out there. The sun is shining, There's a breeze, which means my clothes are drying on the line, and for a change, or what feels like a change, I'm at home, and not in another city. When you travel a lot, you start to wonder exactly where home is. I know that when I'm in Darwin, my apartment up there becomes a home. But this is home. Here in Melbourne, with my darling cat, who is very glad to see me.
It's also Grand Final Day, but with two interstate teams playing, there isn't that much interest in the game, so I'm enjoying the peace and quiet.
Being kind. And maybe my writing. But being kind is more important.
2. If you were put in solitary confinement for a year, what would you do to stay sane?
The three things I would do would be read, write and exercise. It's imperative that I write, and I write every day. Reading is good for you, and it's amazing what you can do in a confined space when it comes to exercise. Yes, it would be boring, but at least the endorphins would keep things on an even keel.
3. If you could have video of any one event in your life, what event would you choose?
I hate seeing myself on film and in photos and I can't think of any real time, as those 'big' things haven't really happened to me. But I keep being told by friends that when I was our room in Sommieres when we were on holiday last year was the nearest thing to pure joy anybody had ever seen. I'd like to see that. I just remember being bowled over.
4. What are the top 3 things you want to accomplish before you die? Have you accomplished them?
I'd like to get a book published.
And walk the Camino de Santiago di Compostella in Spain.
And I'd like to live in Paris for a year.
I'm working on all three of them in the background.
5. If you were forced to live one 10-minute block of your life again and again, what 10 minutes of your life would you choose.
I can't thing of anything. One of the joys of life is that everything is different from moment to moment.
6. Have you ever saved someone’s life?
In a way, yes. I used to do a lot of healing work. I was at a party one night and was doing some work with an acquaintance, who hadn't been feeling well. I got to a spot, and the inner voice took over. Something didn't seem right. As a good holistic healer, I recommended that they see their doctor about this issue I sensed (but did not diagnose - something else a good holistic healer will not do - know they boundaries). I told them it may be nothing, but best to get it checked out.
Turns out they did have something that could have killed them. They went straight from the doctors to the hospital, where the problem was rectified.
Every time I see them, they thank me for saving their life. I don't think I did anything more than anybody else would do in recommending they see a professional and quickly.
7. What are you addicted to?
As I'm on this regime at the moment - no gluten, no dairy, no sugar, no caffeine and no alcohol, fun foods are next to non-existent. But, I have discovered vegan prawn crackers - which I love. They fit the bill. And are yummy.
8. What keeps you up at night?
Not much. My busy brain can be thinking about anything and that will keep me up, but I try hard to stop scrolling an hour before bed - that slows my mind down a bit.
9. What do you regret not doing?
Travelling more when I was younger.
10. What gives your life meaning?
My friends and family. My cat. The Arts.
11. What are you most insecure about?
My looks. Which is silly and vain, and I know I'm no oil painting, but I really hate having my photo taken and being on camera.
12. What’s the most illegal thing you’ve done?
Other than living without a visa in England for six years? (What can I say, it was the nineties). An occasionally I might go over the speed limit or have a puff of the whacky backy if it's going around. I live a calm and law-abiding life.
13. What’s the most surprising self-realization you’ve had?
I'm a good person. Again, sounds strange, but I'm okay.
14. If you could make one rule that everyone had to follow, what would it be?
Be kind. It's not hard. Just be kind.
15. In what situation or place would you feel most out of place?
Oh, that could be anywhere. I'm an introvert, so get me at a party with more than six other people and I'm either in the kitchen or out on the balcony with the smokers. Other places I'd be out place:
A boardroom as a member of the board (too much bullshit)
At the Australian Open (Don't like tennis)
Swimming in the middle of the bay (Scared of being in open water - okay on a boat)
At any sort of Country and Western gig, rodeo etc.
At a Trump rally.
At a Liberal Party Meeting (in Australia, our Liberal Party is the same as the Conservatives in England and the Republicans in America)
Note to myself. Don't go and see a film the day after you get off a red-eye flight. It's asking for trouble.
Making it even harder, this is a French Comedy. So over-tired and a little fractious went along to this - and promptly fell asleep, more because I'm over-tired rather than bored. But any chance to put in the Babel Fish** and listen to native French speakers is a good thing. And the film was enjoyable enough, even it was a bit strange in places.
In my defense, I was taking micro-naps in the first third of the film, where things were getting set up. We meet Albert (Pio Marmai) who works at the airport, is deeply in debt and it grifting to get things back on track. The airport allows him all sorts of benefits, normally involving the moving on of lost and confiscated property. Albert also does some of those AirTasker jobs nobody else wants, including going to Black Friday sales. At the start of the movie, we learn two other things. Firstly, he's doing a job for somebody and secondly, there's a group that looks a lot like Extinction Rebellion over here raising merry hell around Paris. The leader of this group, "Cactus" (Noemi Merlant) is a bit of a bad ass.
When Albert goes to drop off the loot from his AirTasker job he finds Bruno (Jonathan Cohen) in the pit of despair. He too is in financial dire straits. Bruno is trying to get some help from a financial adviser, Henri (Mathieu Almaric) who is well on the dodgy side.
Bruno and Albert end up infiltrating the fringe group, mostly to ensure they get fed, but also, they appear to like being a part of the community of slightly strange people.
I have to say, the French know how to hold a protest. A lot of the movie shows the antics of the group, which insist that their members go by benign monikers and get up to all sorts of stuff - as I said, not too far off the radical Extinction Rebellion group over here. The group are the source of a few laughs.
This is not the film to see when you're overtired. I think, with a bit more sleep I would have enjoyed it more, but it came across as rather convoluted. The second half was definitely better than the first.
Olivier Nakache and Eric Toledano wrote and directed this - and a lot of it does have merit. I particularly liked the last few minutes which showed Paris during lockdown. The duo was responsible for The Intouchables - one of the best French films ever made. This film lacks the same pizzaz, but it does have some of the characteristic human elements found in their better-known film.
I'm chalking this one up to being over-tired and probably napping through some important bits, which would have made the film easier to follow (although Jay did say she struggled with plot continuity at times. It was nice to listen to the French Language and see Paris again too.
** Go read Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. It will explain everything.
It was a busy and productive day. Lots of work got done, even with a trip back to the apartment to cook myself an omelette for lunch (and do some packing before tonight's flight.)
And lots of work got done.
But there were also the rabbit holes which we dear neurodiverse peoples find ourselves falling down at regular intervals.
Today's little learning was the definition of cephalophore.
Cephalore?
Yes, it is the term for the Catholic Saints that are promoted to the public carrying their own heads. Most of them have been decapitated causing them to my martyrs, which is why they became saints when it all comes down it.
Some of the more famous cephalophores are St Alban, who not only has a suburb named after him in Melbourne and Sydney but has a large and gorgeous cathedral named after him just out of London. I was there last year about this time. It's amazing.
Which lead me to ponding why the Catholics liked to display their saints with their heads chopped off.
I then remembered a book I read a few years ago called Damascus by Christos Tsiolkas, which was a hard and horrid book to read in many ways, and this book, set in the time just after Christ, they were forever referring to Christianity as a death cult - which when you think about it, it is - I mean, you're venerating some bloke (who albeit had some good things to say) who ended up on a cross.
The other ironic cephalophore is Saint Denis, who has a big church in Paris named after him. Ironically, St Denis is one of the patron saints of Paris - and of headaches. Louis XV and Marie Antoinette, two other decapitated people of note, are buried in his big basilica in the North of Paris.
St Denis
Who knew?
There's also St Winifred, who has this amazing looking church in North Wales that I'd love to visit. Centred in the town of Holywell, there are these sacred springs, which look amazing. It's called the Lourdes of Britain.
And this is five minutes of procrastination time in the brain of somebody who's just a little neurodiverse, wandering down the rabbit holes that the internet provides between bigger tasks while David Bowie croons along in my head.
It's my penultimate night in Darwin for this trip. Tomorrow morning at stupid 'o' clock I'll be winging it back to Melbourne.
But tonight was we call Family Dinner.
The team get together in one team member's room or another and have dinner.
Tonight, it was Greek.
Our colleague cooked for us. I felt humbled. They did a feast of kofte, tzatziki and one of the best Greek Salads I've had in ages. I'm told they sourced these wonderful tomatoes from Coles. Who knew? They didn't need to do this, but they went and got me some gluten free pitas (which were actually really good). They also hunted out some very good Greek Sweets - and for me, some berries.
If you come to my place for dinner, you'll get rotisserie chicken and salad - keeps things easy, maybe some berries and yoghurt for breakfast).
It's lovely having people to eat with. As somebody who normally has dinner with the cat, sitting down, having a laugh, and virtual gin and tonic with great company - you can't do much better than that.
I'm counting my blessings:
I have colleagues who care enough to provide dinner (especially as I told them not to)
I have people who will sit down with me and have dinner
And people who don't talk all about work.
Being the last full night here, I now have to get arranging some stuff. My Darwin bag has to go back to its resting place in one of the manager's offices. There are some perishables to be distributed. Recycling needs to be taken down to the fourth-floor car park. And as I'm heading out with friends who are up from Melbourne tomorrow night before doing the final pack and heading to the airport just before midnight.
Too many blessings.
But I'm glad I'll be back in my own bed by Friday morning too.
