Time out...

I had a weekend away in Brisneyland with some friends. As always, it was good to get away. This trip, even though I had my work mobile with me, I chose to ignore it. I really felt like I needed to do that. This was an amazing trip for me. Somehow, God only knows how this is possible, but I felt even more close to my family than ever. Especially my big sister. I wish we had more wine and more time to chat about stuff...

So, here's some pics from a day trip. I think pictures speak heaps. You can make your own story up here:

Then finally to be back in Sydney, on the ferry and heading for home...


Unconscious Mutterings :: Week 373

  1. Burrito ::YUM!
  2. Spike ::my drink, please.
  3. Tougher :: than you.
  4. Mock :: your efforts.
  5. Slurp :: lick
  6. Knock :: on wood
  7. Conference ::Yay!, Time of work!
  8. Madness :: Baggy Trousers
  9. Minds :: Simple
  10. Connection :: lost


Beating myself up...

It's something I do well. Lately I've not been treating myself the best. I've been a little down. It's weird how these feelings tend to feed on themselves.

If you've ever dealt with depression yourself, you'll know how hard you can be on yourself when you're down. I am my own worst enemy.But I hide it well.

And I'm disappointed. I'm an angry man right now. Some of this stems from isolation. Now, frankly, I don't live too far away from my mates. Surely a visit every now and then would be ok. But sometimes I feel like I might as well live in another state. I live in a wonderful place. There is so much here. The ocean, the cliffs, the nature walks, the bays, the food and drink. It's an amazing place. The walks around the harbour from The Spit to Manly are world class. So, then I think it's me. Maybe I'm not super company. I beat myself up.

I know that's not true. But that's just the thing. I know I'm beating myself up.

Other times, you know, if you plan to do something simple, like just go to the gym, you feel tired, feel work stressed, thinking about stuff going on in your family, and you think "I just want to go home and stop". When I don't go to the gym... I beat myself up. I look in the mirror, and I'm not there. I don't like what I see. I'm a fucking grown man and yet I have hang-ups that hold me back.

Little things... they get to you. I beat myself up. But anyway...

I feel like this every now and then. For me, that's my depression. I'm aware of it. I'm VERY aware when it's enveloping me. I wake up on the floor after numbing myself. But, it's not some dark cloud. It's not some weird fog. It's just anger, disappointment and loneliness. These days I have high expectations of myself... When I don't achieve, I beat myself up. But I hide it well. We all feel these things. Don't we?

But, I have this blog. It allows me to say what I'm feeling. I don't share my inner feelings too often. I'm not the sort of man who would share this with his mates, yet, I will share it here. Depression is insidious. If you don't suffer from it, then I would never expect you to understand the spiral. Sometimes, every now and then, that spiral is fast and dives deep. It's dangerous. It can be very dangerous.

This post is one of those that I would usually never publish. But here goes...


An easy one: What would you do if you won lotto?

1) Buy Mum and Dad a retirement property on the Gold Coast. 2) Go and climb The Alps for a few months

Ask me anything

What would be the best thing about being a vampire?

Scaring the shit out of people.

Ask me anything

Caption this...

Go on, give me you're best caption for this pic...


Treasure trails...

I love them.

Recently I had the absolute privilege of spending a few hours wandering around The Rocks with one of this country's leading archeologists and historians. He told me so many stories about the people and places that made Australian's who we are. It was an intimate insight that I know I'm very lucky to have had his knowledge shared with me.

While wandering around, standing on seemingly innocuous patches of bitumen or paved land, the stories of the land beneath my feet became more than pages in a long lost school history book. They became real. Very real. Men became more than characters in history, they became real men. Some of the stories of these early settlers even had a connection to my home town of Ipswich. We talked about the artifacts that had been excavated. Most of which helped build a picture of a very different day to day life than today.

This just added to my recent found love of Australian history. I've been dreaming of finding a connection to the past... Dreaming of being a treasure hunter.

I know where to look too. It's not where many other people have looked before. I know this because it's off the coast. There is a spot off the coast I've had my eye on for a few years. I know there is something there. I know this because I've been diving there and I've found things there before. I've brought these things to this historian and he's told me about the life that these objects had before ending up on the sea floor... even how they may have got there.

I've just ordered a new underwater housing for my camera and I so want to go and find something more. I know where to look. I've found a couple of broken items there before. I know it may take a couple of dives to try and find the exact location again.

I know the dangers of diving by myself. But, I'm bloody keen. Stupid brain and stupid sense of adventure. I know I need this. C'mon, you know me, you know I like stuff like this. Something takes over and I just follow the desire. But, I've put the call out for a like minded dive buddy, but so far no luck. Sydney divers aren't interested in this sort of dive. It's all "let's keep moving", pretty fishes or nothing to most of them. This dive would involve being in one spot and searching.

There are men like me out there... I know it. There has to be.


Unconscious Mutterings :: week 372

  1. Children :: noise
  2. Saddlebags :: fat ass
  3. Restraint :: fun
  4. Awake :: from the dead
  5. Blood :: on your hands
  6. Shutter :: speed
  7. Posted :: yesterday
  8. Corn cob :: yum
  9. Flagrant :: disregard
  10. Fart :: protein


The 80's...

are back.

Got a few hours spare in Sydney? Then head on to The Powerhouse Museum for their exhibition featuring the 80's. It was fascinating, and anyone who really grew up in the 80's would appreciate this exhibit. It was fun. Ok, the children in the "Rave" section who were all shouting along to Salt N Pepa's "Push It" were a little annoying, but the whole exhibition made me realise I grew up in a very important decade. It really did pave the way for a lot of what many people take for granted these days and there were many lessons learnt... Like certain fashion should NEVER be revived.

So, if you were a child of the 80's "do yourself a favour" and go and check it out.


Unconscious Mutterings :: week 371

  1. Detective :: story
  2. Bangs :: she-
  3. Consultant :: time waster
  4. Puzzle :: piece
  5. Learn :: to play
  6. Necklace :: design
  7. 184 :: 13
  8. Stimulation :: buzz
  9. Layered :: Photoshop file
  10. Police :: radio



It's a travel show, and it's about booze from all over the world! It combines two of my most favourite things. Why oh why have I not heard of this show before?!

The premise: The host, Zane, travels the world sampling the local drinks and associated culture that go with them. And he gets drunk. And that's one thing I really like about this show. They don't edit that bit out. Each episode often ends with the morning after and Zane sampling a local hangover cure. Last night's show about Croatia was fantastic.

The other thing I like about this show is that it has its own drinking game. And during the show you are encouraged to play along. It's not some lame internet game, it's actually promoted as part of the show. Here are some of the main rules:
  1. (I think this is the most important one) When Zane takes a drink, you take a drink.
  2. There is a stuffed monkey named Pleepleus (Zane's drinking buddy) that might appear on the screen. When it does the first person to spot it takes a drink.
  3. When someone burps you all must give the "good burp" sign. The last person to do this has to take a drink.
  4. If Zane mentions his mate Steve everyone takes a drink.
There are more rules, but these are the 4 main ones.

Oh, and there's even a movement called "Sheet It Forward" where when you see a fellow 'Three Sheets' fan sporting 'Three Sheets' or Pleepleus merchandise, you simply buy him or her a drink... A way to be kind to your fellow man and sheets fan.

I heart this tv show. I think I'll buy the DVD so I can watch it over and over and over again. Bottoms up!


I'm not a fan

and don't think I ever will be.
Fat people love JetStar and young mums with babies love JetStar, but Muzbot doesn't... but at last minute I had to get a flight and JetStar gave me the best price. I hope I don't have to travel last minute too often.


I'm loving this right now...

Kasper Bjørke: Efficient Machine


Unconscious Mutterings :: week 370

  1. Harm :: self
  2. If :: only
  3. On my own :: I'll make it
  4. She said :: He said
  5. Illegal :: fun
  6. Broke :: but wealthy
  7. It’s a :: war!
  8. Chatting :: wasting time
  9. Cottege :: ?
  10. Podcast :: work


Everybody loves a parade...


I find the Mardi Gras parade cringe worthy. I hear from people "It's moved on. It's no longer a protest, it's a celebration!" A celebration of what? What the hell are we celebrating here? Oh, we've come so far. Yes, but I think the right to wear Lycra, sequins and feathers while wandering up the street behind a corporate logo somehow puts the parade in the bastardization category. There were community and support groups in the parade, but I think they were the ones squashed between the Virgin and Foxtel floats... and then we have the cliche groups. None of whom I really identify with. But I'm supposed to aren't I? I'm one of them, quick, pop me into that box.

Years ago, and really I'm not talking too long ago, the parade had satire and wit. It had fun. If you were watching on the sidewalk, standing on your plastic milk crate, you would crane your neck to see what the people down the street just let out a laugh and cheer for. What was coming next and who were they having a dig at? Who was going to cop a ribbing as the community made their point? The "We've got something to say!" has gone.

Maybe I'm becoming a cynical man. But can anybody tell me what the Mardi Gras parade was about this year? No, not the "theme", but what it was REALLY all about? I doubt it. Oh, hang on, someone over there in the corner just shouted out "it's about the dollar, and we've sold out to anyone who'll toss us a coin".

Now, before I come across as a bitter man, I have to say that I think Mardi Gras is a fantastic festival - as a whole... and I don't want to rain on the parade of those who got into it. I guess put simply, the parade, well, it's just not my thing... I don't think the parade represents me... Maybe next year I'll put together a float for men and women who would just like to wear a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, not get naked and not be identifiable as a subculture. We could carry a couple of signs that say "Hey look, we are not freaks, we actually are your daughters, sons, sisters and brothers. We are not a separate cliche. We aren't a mob of sexual deviants. We just are."

But then, even "The Gays" like to discriminate if you don't belong to a group so I doubt a float like mine would ever be permitted to march... oh, unless we had a major sponsor.



I don't really talk much about work here on my blog. It's something that I kind of keep separate, but recently I've been mixing it up a bit and got involved in a new project.

I've started producing the weekly podcast we like to call "Talks on The Rocks". It's a series of lunchtime talks held each Friday in our museum. Each week we have a guest speaker who comes in and gives a short talk on an aspect of Sydney. Usually, the talk is based on an aspect of culture or history of Australia, Sydney and The Rocks. They are truly fascinating.

I've learnt some interesting facts. For example, did you know that in 1806 alone 41,000 seal furs were shipped from the inner harbour shores. Forty one thousand! Now, on those rare occasions I see a seal in the harbour, and it does happen once or twice a year, I will appreciate the sight just a little more.

But, if you're interested in cultural diversity and history then feel free to pop on to iTunes and have a listen.