Food Glorious Food

It's been a while since I posted a pointless personal ramble here, and it has been requested that I provide some form of update (are you happy now Melo? :P) I haven't felt that any of my recent activities/dramas/sessions of stupidity have warranted being blogged about, but I think I have something which may capture your attention in both mental and tastebud states!

This weekend past was the Brisbane edition of the Good Food and Wine Show. Now, some of you may recall that this is the event for which I travel to Sydney for. Mister and I had a nice long weekend in Sydney in July for it this year, and we see no reason to miss out on the local version too. I must say, I was slightly apprehensive about going - we missed the Brisbane edition in 2009 because the 2008 edition was rather lacklustre and disappointing. Also, the 2010 Melbourne edition was rated poorly by my parents.




Nevertheless, tickets in hand and a queue spanning the entire Brisbane Convention Centre, we lined up for entry at 10am on Friday. The first issue of annoyance was upon attempt to collect our free show bags from the Info booth, just inside the entry door. It took us no more than 15 minutes to filter through to the front of the line and within that brief time, they'd already given away all of the free bags. Talk about poor planning. In fact, there were food and wine stalls who had very limited stocks of products, or had already run out of things by the time we'd made our way to see them - and this was only the first day of the show!! Whilst we were compensated with vouchers for free mini bottles of Oxford Landing wine, it certainly wasn't a balanced compensation. How unprofessional and disorganised. We, on the other hand, flounced around like old pro's, with our wine tasting glasses suspended from our necks by way of neoprene glass holders on lanyards. These are such a glorious invention which work well within the bounds of gravitational law - your glass is always at the vertical, no matter how much you sway.



My boasted aim of "in by 10 and half drunk by 10:30" wasn't far off the pace - the morning began with a short sharp knock back of a chilled Coffee Baileys, and on to the stalls we ventured. That hour of the morning was not going to be considered too early for tastings of roast lamb, duck legs, Chilean wine, coffee, sauces, chocolate, sake and umeshu, biscuits, cheese or fortified wines and spirits. In fact, that 10:30am rapidly tended towards noon. By this time, there was a strong need to sit down, rest the feet, have a cuppa and offload the haul of purchases. This called for a picnic in the underground carpark of the Convention Centre! My mother, in all her preparedness, had packed a flask of hot water, tea and coffee supplies, and some buttered pumpkin scones.

Round two was another two hours of tasting, drinking, fighting for stepping space amongst the idiots who bring young children in pushers and old dodder'ers with their Good Food shopping trolleys purchased as memorabilia merchandise.

Within the entry ticket price, we were reserved a seat at the celebrity theatre session for George Calombaris and Gary Mehigan. The show was entertaining and witty, and yet for the life of me, I really can't remember what foods were prepared on stage - obviously it was a highly memorable and informative session!!

I think by this time my tastings of moscato, chardonnay, pinot grigio, shiraz, merlot, muscat and many more varietals had sufficiently numbed my memory cells of a week of hell at my place of employment (of which there are only 14 more remaining, and four of those are holidays!) and had inspired me to remain as brainless as possible about anything else in the rest of the world that wasn't to my benefit on that day, in that state.

By the time we were Tom-Tom navigated out of the city and back to the confines of suburbia and domesticity, the belly was bulging and the pores were almost seeping. And nothing could have topped off a day of culinary delights like a bacon, egg and sauce sandwich for dinner!

Oh yeah, and if you need to know about other life events - my job is destined to end on 11 February; I had a job interview two weeks ago and haven't heard anything official about the result (though, if I continue to hold my breath for it, I'll end up looking like a Smurf!); My big birthday plans for 19 February are well underway; I'm still making my way though nearly every food stall and restaurant at Sunnybank's Market Square (it's like a not-so-little China!); Christmas is nearly here and I have no need to panic - the presents are roughly selected and the tree is ready to go up.

Balloonatics

Have you got any of those activities that you'd like to do, but just can't see yourself venturing out to achieve them? To me, hot air ballooning was one of them - it'd be nice to do, but not necessarily something I absolutely have to try before I kick the bucket.

So when the opportunity came along - by way of hand-me-down pre-paid vouchers - to take a flight in a 'loon, I of course took it.


My father and I took the flight (along with 20 other people and the pilot) crammed in to a wicker gondola somewhat reminiscent of a scene from the Indian rail system!

We started the morning being picked up from the foyer of the Radisson hotel at 05:15. As we bounced along in the back of the troopy to the Arundel industrial area for condition testing there was a faint sparkle of the sun rising over the coast. We launched a helium filled (normal party sized) balloon with a red light attached to it to track the breeze and atmospheric conditions. It was decided the location wasn't suitable for launch so off we headed to Helensvale.



A quick balloon test at the second site indicated favourable conditions. By 06:30 the insurance waivers had been signed, the balloon was inflated and we were all piling in to the basket. To be honest, I didn't even notice we'd left the ground until we were about two feet above it - it was a very gentle and gradual lift. I did however notice the heat generated from the four burners right above my head! It's claimed the air inside the balloon is around 120 degrees Celsius.

As we tracked south on our flight following the rail line we were greeted by several honks of the horn from the trains below. Apparently the drivers are known for their communications to the balloons above!



There was no great drama on the flight, nor anything to even suggest we could be unsafe at any time. The flight averaged around 5 knots speed and I believe the average elevation was 500ft. We did begin to drop close to some power lines and trees, but I think the perception of their proximity was worse than the reality.

The flight lasted 45 minutes and we landed in a rough cow paddock at Carrara. The cows at least didn't seem fazed by our presence! I had never really stopped to think how the pack up of the equipment would happen... the envelope (balloon) is flattened out and bundled at the top end, and then, utilising the assistance of all the people who had just taken part in the flight, loaded in to a huge cart and wheeled in to the back of a trailer.


We finished the morning back at the Radisson hotel with a champagne buffet breakfast and review of the photos which had been taken from the on-balloon camera. All up, a four hour adventure for something I'd probably never have treated myself to. But at least now I can say I've done it!

New adventures in old haunts

Whilst it's often nice to return to a familiar place for holidays, it's also nice to throw in some new adventures just to 'value add' to the experience.

I've just spent four days down in Sydney with the Mister for a bit of a get away, and a chance to participate in the annual Good Food and Wine Show.

The familiarity of wandering through Town Hall Station and QVB, over the foot bridge from the hotel to Darling Harbour was a comforting feeling. Like a flashback of something that never actually went away. The smell of the hotel foyer reminded me that there was a weekend of exploration (and inevitable expense) awaiting me. The sound of the car horns expressing their angst in having drivers desperately needing to uphold deadlines in their urgency to get to their next location made me even more aware that I had four whole days of freedom and pleasure awaiting me.

So, Friday was the flight down and the Food Show. There was a little drama on the flight - let me just say first up that a two hour delay in your departing flight at 7am is not an adventure worth having! And then the drama continued. About 20 minutes prior to landing, as the plane was well in to it's descent, I had a slight attack with my heart and then that horrid sensation of wanting to black out... some of you may remember that I had the same thing on a return flight from Tokyo last year, albeit the sensation actually resulted in me completely blacking out. So that was some excitement (and anxiety) for the morning. I really didn't expect it, I wasn't thinking about it at all, and I really didn't want it either!

We eventually made it to the Food Show at the Exhibition Centre on Darling Harbour. I've been attending the show now for about 6 or 7 years and thoroughly enjoy the chance to spend a day wandering between exhibition halls, sampling food and wine, and spinning stories to stall holders to try and score additional freebies! This year was, as is always, a success. Too much drunk, too much sampled and many free items packed in to our bags. By 4pm we were both knackered!

Saturday involved much city discovery, and consequently much shopping. The glory of the boutiques and finery of independent shops throughout historical arcades and malls is always an adventure. The afternoon allowed for indulgence in Sydney Harbour with wine and oysters overlooking the sun setting behind the Harbour Bridge.

Sunday was a first for me - in all the years I've lived in and visited Sydney, I have never taken the ferry out to Parramatta. The train ride was a common occurrence, but never the journey down the river. To visit the old streets of my work and many a lunch feast showed me just what the region had grown in to. The fact that the town was like a dead alive hole also let me see some of the finer points to the buildings and features around it.

Sunday night at the casino - just for a quite bite to eat and a flutter. I can't say I ever missed that place though! If you're not like a moth to a flame for poker machines, I really can't understand the attraction - though $14 steak sandwiches and chips are quite the deal!

Monday, the last day to shop and experience. A trip to Peters of Kensington is always in order, and should I return from a trip to Sydney without a pink bag, I don't believe I've done my holiday complete justice! The bad weather rolled in and the weather chilled. As Mister explained, it was the tears of Sydney farewelling us!

At least our flight home was on time (albeit feeling like it was hours past midnight and we'd been running around for all four days straight) and uneventful (other than my constant stressing about something going wrong again).

All in all, the weekend was full of firsts, lasts, news and olds.. what more could you really ask for?

Astrological Traits

Regardless of whether you're a believer in the powers of the zodiac, or the fortunes of astrology, we were all born in to a phase from which certain persons believe you will adopt personal traits and characteristics. Taking in to account the position of the planets, moons, sun and potentially even space junk, you will inherit your own unique personality under the umbrella of your sign.
I remember as a young child I took great interest in my zodiac sign, and as a teenager I further investigated the compatibility of my sign with those of my crushes throughout school. This resulted in a purchase many years ago of a large framed print detailing my sign. I think at the time I would have been too young to identify if the traits were accurate or not, however these days I often read the print which hangs in our powder room downstairs, and have a giggle at just how apt some of the statement are. Since I'm not able to copy down what the print says at this time (silly work interfering with life!) I decided to troll the net to see what various sites had to say about me.
I'm a water bearer - of the Aquarius astrological star sign if you like.


According to the wikipedia entry: In astrology, Aquarius is considered a "masculine", positive (extrovert) sign. So, there's my first characteristic - strength.


My web searching has told me that the traditional Aquarian traits are:

Friendly and humanitarian Honest and loyal Original and inventive Independent and intellectual

Unfortunately, on the dark side, the traits are:

Intractable and contrary Perverse and unpredictable Unemotional and detached

Whilst, in all honesty, I believe I can relate to much of that, it doesn't shine a particularly fine light on me, let alone the masses of population who also fall under this sign. A further search on other astrology sites concluded that:

'I KNOW' is the motto for Aquarius. You have an original and inventive mind and can take the long view. You also have a scientific or technological bent.

I accept that.

Original, independent, individualistic and freedom-loving, you can be rebellious and perverse if you do not handle these qualities well. Your strong likes and dislikes can make you seem stubborn and unyielding.

Fair call.

You have a charming disposition, a great love of life, and you are affectionate and social.
You are charming, gracious and easygoing. You have many artistic talents as well as the ability to express them.

You are strong and self-disciplined. Self-reliant, efficient, dignified and intense, you seldom act until you know what is right for you. Idealistic, probing and set in your ways, you are very trustworthy and you expect the same from others. You lack adaptability and the power to relax. A planner and strategist without equal, you have an all-or-nothing attitude that makes compromise difficult. Sexually you are strong, powerful and secretive; if you misdirect this drive you can become intensely jealous.

Yeah, OK... I think we get the message!

Oh to be a derby girl

Many moons ago, as a child, I spent my weekends learning how to roller skate. Artistic roller skate. It was a short lived past time I must admit, but not for lack of skill. I recall being able to cleanly skate around the rink, spin 180º and stop abruptly on my stoppers, and more impressively, skating backwards around the rink for several laps at a time. I also recall participating in a speed skate session and having some smaller child clip me on the inside curve. This was immediately proceeded by pain, tears and wrist smash that haunts me every winter with a dull ache reminder of the perils of the sport.

With my historical heart set in the ways of roller skating, I took an interest in the resurgence of Roller Derby a couple of years ago. It was an interest held from afar as a spectator. Until last night. I decided to don a pair of scungy hire skates from the Sports Centre and join the fresh meat training for Gold Coast Roller Derby. With much apprehension in lacing (or more aptly should I say 'roping') up the skates and encasing myself in half-fitting protective knee, wrist and elbow guards, I took to the court with a firm belief in the 'it's like riding a bike' theory. Back on the stoppers, in, out, weaving feet, plough stops, T-stops, 180º turns, cross-overs and of course skating backwards. It was all there, and not once did my backside make friends with the ground.

It was comforting to know that my abilities hadn't completely failed me, and I knew that deep down with more time dedicated to practice, it wouldn't be long before I was zooming around the court with full balance and confidence. Just as an aside, please note I say court and not rink as the session was held at an indoor basketball/volleyball/soccer stadium.

But my personal conquests were not enough to make me see that the Roller Derby scene was where I wanted to be. My grown-up requirements for organisation and planning and professionalism were not met by the squad and the whole shindig didn't give me great faith in being able to join in with something which just didn't feel quite right.

Nevertheless, I now know that if I were to ever stumble across a pair of size 10 Riedells with hybrid wheels and a spare pair of bearings, I'd not hesitate in adding them to my collection of shoes!

My gastronomic plans

Food... the heart of life, the life of love, the love of the soul (I don't know if that actually makes sense, but it seemed to flow together in my mind when I was writing it!)

Anyway, I have a small dinner party planned for this weekend and have consequently been tossing up all kinds of ideas for food. It's a tough balance when entertaining guests - you want the attention to detail in your meals, but you don't want to have to dedicate extended periods of time to it, especially during that pre-feast mingle time when your guests arrive. So things must be able to be prepared ahead of time, or ovenable. My entree and dessert options easily satisfy this, but mains are a little more complex (without having to resort to things like stew and casserole where they can just sit in a pot until ready to be dished out). This is what I've come up with so far:

Entree/appetisers: turkish bread with a variety of dukkah's and macadamia oils and caramelised balsamic vinegar, fetta and olives





Main: pork fillet wrapped in prosciutto and smeared in basil pesto, served with asparagus spears, oven roasted truss cherry tomatoes and piped domes of mashed potato

Dessert: chocolate mousse with berry coulis






And now to decide on which wines to serve with it all!

The Life Of A Cyborg

Last Thursday I had a cardiac event monitor stuck to my chest... this thing is to be worn for a week and is intended to record (under my instruction) any heart 'events' I feel over that time. I have two electrodes attached - a white one on my top right of chest, and a red one on my left ribcage - and the physical monitor box with a big yellow button which hangs around my neck.



The idea is that when I feel an 'attack' or some abnormal event with my heart, I press the button. Normally this isn't an issue, however, I've been told I can only record five events on the monitor and any subsequent presses must only be for events considered more serious than those previously recorded.

I do get to remove the sticky pads up to twice a day to shower but the horrid gel gunky stuff is really starting to adhere to my skin and leave some red raw patches. Not to mention the discomfort of the itching when I get warm and sweaty :(

Whilst it may look fairly simple, placement of the top electrode is really inconvenient when it comes to being able to wear something to conceal it. It really doesn't bother me with the monitor or the electrodes or wires being visible, but there are times when it'd be nice to not know it's there. So I walk around with this device clearly suspended from my neck, and to be fair, most people haven't questioned it because they assume it's something along the lines of an mp3 player as they don't see the electrodes.

Mum stood behind me in the bathroom this morning as I was doing my hair. I could see she was studying the wires attached to my torso. Suddenly my hair straightener beeped at me to say it was at optimal temperature, but all mum knew was that there was an electronic twittering sound that just occurred. She looked at me with the "what was that?" panic. Perhaps she thought my monitor box and wires were about to explode!

So, once this thing comes off on Wednesday morning, I have an appointment with my cardiologist on the 29th of April to discuss results and what to do next. Now, my condition is well reported after dealing with it, medically, for the last 17 years. But because it's been 10 years since my last surgery and major procedure for it, we're trying to assess the current state of the condition(s). I would like for the next step to be an implantable monitor - it's about the size of a USB flash drive and is inserted under the skin above the heart. It can last up to three years depending upon battery life, and transmits wirelessly to a receiver whenever I tell it to record a significant event. I'm sure you can see from the geeky perspective as to why I'd want such a device, but from the health perspective I'd like to be able to come off my medication, monitor my condition over that longer period of time and see what my 'native' heart status is without any form of drug interference. This will allow the specialists to determine if I require more surgery to fix the issue, or if it's best left alone/treated with drugs.

In a mouthful or with little nibbles?

I was just offered a Ferrero Rocher and as I hurriedly unwrapped the golden foil I pondered what the correct etiquette for consuming such a delectable item is.

See, the trouble with consumables made in the 'mouthful' size range is that whilst it's fine to shovel one in whole when you're on your own and nobody else can see you, it can often be perceived as being greedy and gluttonous when in company.

But to take bites out of something that can be consumed in one hit seems silly and time wasting... not to mention it probably looks like someone imitating a rat, gnawing on a chunk of cheese. Besides, why would you bite in to something which has a fragile shell, and nut pieces which will inevitably fall off when disturbed from their chocolate setting, hence running the risk of losing parts of aforementioned delectable item?

Stuff appearance and etiquette.. just woof the chocolate down!

One man's trash...

...should often be considered everyone's trash!

I have a routine of going to the Dodgers car boot sale during the sun-rising hours of the second Sunday of each month. This is one of the largest boot sales on the Gold Coast, and many a bargain find has been achieved over the years - everything from electrical appliances, to baby furniture and home decor items. But it never ceases to amaze me the amount of sheer crap that is on display in anticipation of being sold.

Many items are damaged, not in working order, rusty, missing parts, old and smelly and even mouldy, and some are just downright dangerous. This weekend past I saw a bloke walk away from the sales with a half spool of curling ribbon, tin of paint which looked as though it had been hidden in someone's garage for about 25 years, and a rusty and chipped saw. In the case of the saw, an item you can pick up new from Bunnings for about ten bucks, why would you even consider buying a relict old piece of junk from a boot sale (unless of course it was purchased for it's "character", but I'm seriously doubting that!)?

I'm not sure what's worse - that someone is willing to sell this stuff, or that someone is willing to buy it.

Nicknames

Nicknames... have you got one? Do you refuse to acknowledge the one you have? C'mon tell me, what is it?

Of course I'm referring to those terms of endearment graced upon you by others, as either a bastardisation of your name, or some cutesy type reminder of some embarrassing childhood moment as opposed to those macho self-indulgent screen names you generate as the staple identity of your online persona.

I bought this topic up because of a comment on my last blog post where I was referred to as Manda-Panda. I really haven't heard that in about 15 years when a classmate used to bellow it out across the room in an attempt to reduce me to a quivering puddle of embarrassment. In addition to the simplistic variations on my name (Mandy, Manda) it often became Mandy-Moo or as per my parents nickname for me, Lou (shortened from my middle name, Louise).

Other than that, I don't believe I've ever had another nickname bestowed upon me... and somehow I don't think Bitch falls in to this category!

Run, Forrest, Run.

I had somewhat of a Gump day yesterday - I just wanted to run and run and run, but due to the physical inhibitors (also known as one borked heart) I was restricted to just couple of hundred meters during my walk around the campus Ring Road. The whole journey only took 20 minutes and felt somewhat anti-climactic upon conclusion in all honesty. The heart did have a few backflip sessions with a rate >180bpm but nothing significant or concerning. Which makes me wonder why I'm still having so many problems with it lately - where it feels like it's about to beat right out of my chest and have rhythmic pulsations to enable it to jump itself down the road.

But there must have been some physiological stir in the 20 minutes of outdoor adventure - my right shin and muscles around my waist are aching something chronically today. And whilst I'm finding it difficult to even stand up from my desk, it's knowing that the discomfort (not pain!) will subside and I can try again, pushing harder, further and aiming for less and less strain each time.

Now, to maintain some level of encouragement and enthusiasm. I'm thinking of focussing on the benefit of at least being out of the office, away from my confines and away from rage-inducing people for that brief period of time. That ought to be enough to keep me going for a while I hope.

Confucius Say..

Ah, the joy of meandering through the Asian grocers.

I took a quick zip out to Sunnybank during today's lunch break, to the land of little Asia's. My shopping list only had a few items on it such as cans of peach flavoured water drink, wasabi peas, Pocky, BBQ pork buns and red bean buns, but the level of temptation to just collect things in the shopping basket because they look intriguing is always high. There are jars of pickled "things", packets of ground "things" and "things" in the freezer which you really don't want to question!

And half the fun is selecting something which may not even have an English detail on the label - it's like Chinese Roulette at the end of each aisle! Considering many items, as with in our own general supermarket, are only a dollar or two, it's worth the hesitation to select something different each time - you never know what culinary treasure you just may uncover.

In addition to the groceries, I came away with bubble tea... let me say that again to encourage further drooling... BUBBBBBBBBBLE TEEEEEEEEEEA! Taro milk with pearl, passionfruit jasmine with lychee jelly, and honey jasmine with lychee jelly. Oh the delights of chewy bits in the bottom of a plastic cup!

Truth be told, I couldn't think of anything else to write about today, so you've been granted a brief blog about something even more irrelevant and useless to you than what you normally read! And with that..... it's home time

What's your OCD?

Obsessive–compulsive disorder (OCD) is a mental disorder characterized by intrusive thoughts that produce anxiety, by repetitive behaviors aimed at reducing anxiety, or by combinations of such thoughts (obsessions) and behaviors (compulsions). OCD is the fourth most common mental disorder and is diagnosed nearly as often as asthma and diabetes mellitus.

So, now that you have close to a medical definition, let us wind back those formalities and just have a look at the more placated social OCD's that people may/do have (I do believe these may be also referred to as idiosyncrasies to allay the serious inference of a mental condition!)

Personally I have to say, two specific habits spring to mind:

1 - I can only turn anti-clockwise in the shower. I heard it mentioned on TV many years ago that people have a preferential direction, which extended to rotational direction in activities like showering. For me, I've found that whilst I can turn to my right, I only get to about a quarter turn and then find I change direction and pivot through 450 degrees to maintain a sense of balance. Stop and think about it... does it make any difference to you which way you rotate when trying to get all of your body covered in water? Make yourself aware of this and see what your habits are the next few times you shower.

2 - My FireFox tabs have to be in a set order. It's something I deal with every day and it's such a habit to have my work site, iGoogle, Gmail, Facebook, Forums, Webmail, News and then other sites set up in my browser that I find I get confused and disoriented if they're not in this order. I like things set out in a particular manner (I think most people with a sense of cleanliness/order/space/even pride would experience similar things). It makes a work or living space feel together, in sync and functional. I guess that's what extends to something as basic as my browser tabs.

Call me weird if you must - sticks and stones and all that crap! Just reflect.. what are those little things that make you, you?

Classic!

What do you think of when you hear the word 'classic'? Does it conjure up images of shiny metal car bonnets with big glistening headlights?

How about an orchestral symphony with the finest instruments?

Or do you just get a visual transformation of all things to black and white?

To me, classic reflects style - something which hasn't dated, and wont date. I found myself engrossed in many things which I would consider to be classic and stylish today whilst reading The Australian's WISH magazine. This month's magazine is based in New York, the 'city that never sleeps' and a location which is promoted as the epitome of fashion, class and making/breaking dreams. Having never been to NY I cannot pass comment, however I will grant the city on being one of great imagery, enthusiasm and encouragement for the grand and divine. It appears to be a world of growth and change, diversity and tradition. I know nothing of the streets, buildings or facilities, but if you mention the name to me, I will always see the black dress of Hepburn and the little blue box of Tiffany. Now that's style which is classic!

Sounds gracing my ears today

It's been a few days of headaches, heartaches and general all-over aches. I've tried to maintain a productive level of concentration, but it hasn't been easy. So, to eliminate as much external noise and distraction as possible, I've been plugged in to my extensive music collection.

The problem therein lies with being able to select something worthy of listening to, which I don't get bored of within the first 45 seconds. It's not been an easy task I tell you! So here's a little bit of musical culture for you to also enjoy.

Today, my aural senses have been satisfied with the likes of:
Buena Vista Social Club


A little bit of ol' Dean Martin and Roger Miller



**Oh, I've decided to put up a post every day/couple of days just linking interesting things, or making a ragey comment about something which is irking me, or just generally taking up intarweb space which I claim to feel should be 'mine', just, because!

Has technology made us lazy in our relationships?

It's something I've been pondering for a while.

The most notable change in our personal interactions comes by way of time spent either physically with another person or in communicating to them via several means. In the days where you kept physical company with a friend/partner/family member you would be required to uphold a level of conversation and activity where it would be obvious if you waned in attention. But now, we can communicate via text, whereby it takes longer to type a sentence than it does to say it; you get thinking time about your responses without the other person interpreting your expressions and body language.

Essentially you can make a 20 minute verbal conversation last all day (or several days) if you need to when it's conducted via email or chat. And when all else fails, you can be AFK and unavailable to respond! Is it easier to just have a pleasant "Hi" from an sms than having to see someone, go through the spiel of "How was your day? What did you get up to?" But surely this contravenes the idea that with all this fantastic technology available to us, we can share more about ourselves and our lives to a greater audience in less time.

So what does that mean for our concept of sharing information with others? Or how well do we effectively know someone these days? If you spread out how much detail you provide someone over days, weeks, months and years, how much of yourself are you truly letting them see? And then, does this mean we base our relationships on only a small fragment of what we believe the other person to be? - perhaps this is why so many relationships, marriages and associations fall apart, because we believe we know so much about another, and yet we've only just seen a small portion of their true self.



I'm a believer that yes, it generally is easier to communicate in dribs and drabs, but it's not the best way to do it... you may be buying time now, but by elongating the interaction period could very well be wasting that time you've just bought in the long run.