last nite i was going to meet my friends at an art exhibition in surry hills and hang out and enjoy the free wine.  i mean, culture.

except when we got there the exhibition was really just a good excuse for 500 hipsters to cram together in the alley checking one another out.  ie: fucking horrible. i didn’t even bother looking at the art, we just decided to ditch them and go back to our friend’s studio and drink nice wine without having to listen to conversations like ‘i love your glasses, where did you get them’, ‘oh.  you won’t find them, they’re antique’.

shut up, hipsters.  just shut up.

anyway, the five of us went up to the beautiful studio in this big old manhattan-esque art deco building with the beautiful floorboards, original mouldings and awesome mint-green 60’s bathroom with a view of the sydney skyline.  and we went into the drum room and played with every single percussion instrument we could find and then we went into the piano room and played every single keyboard we could get our hands on and locked ourselves in the vocal booth and tested it’s sound proofing (ok maybe that was just me) and then we climbed the winding steel staircase that lead to the secret upstairs room and went through the tiny two foot tall, alice in wonderland  door and came out onto the roof.

five stories up, on a steep pitch under a beautiful starlit sky we  sat on that roof silently smoking cigarettes while overlooking the whole of downtown sydney all lit up and pretty and for a minute the world stood still as we thought ‘wow’.  ‘this is really cool’.



lessons on being overtired

so, i’ve been away for a few days at a conference in melbourne town.  for work.  it was great, really inspiring, lots of great speakers and great ideas and people who share my values and want to work towards the same ideals i do.  that sort of shit really makes me happy.  it is also really exhausting and after day two i was significantly so.  anyway, on the second night i had to go back to my hotel to skype my university lecturer.  i’m doing neuropsych at the moment and it’s really fucking hard and i needed some h.e.lp.  so, my overtired brain sets up skype and video calls said lecturer with all my notes and questions surrounding me.

 now, i’ve only used skype a handful of times, i’m not exactly a pro, but i mean, there’s really not that much to it, right?

  so, my lecturer answers the call but without video.  so instead i can see the little picture of me moving around doing shit, and a static stock photo representing my lecturer.  i quickly assess that he doesn’t have a camera and cannot see me.  so we start chatting.  i’m mostly listening to him explain things to me.  i am mostly not really understanding.  while i’m not understanding i am also checking my image out on the screen.  i’m playing with my eyebrows.  i’m leaning forward to see what that mark on my face is.  i’m pulling faces and shaking my head in frustration when my lecturer says things that don’t make any sense.  and i’m nodding my head and making a ‘move on’ motion with my hands when he talks too slow.  but mostly my over vain, absentminded, tired brain is checking itself out on screen, examining wrinkles, fixing my hair up and down, up and down, looking at my profile this way and that in a very absentminded, nonchalant sort of way.

 after about 20 or so minutes of this the internet connection starts failing.  we can’t hear each other, it’s all starting to get scrambled.  so, in attempt to save it i turn off the video thinking that this might speed up the connection or something.  as soon as the video snaps off, my lecturer says


‘now i can’t see you’.




are. you. fucking. serious.

he could see me for that whole 20 minutes of me doing god knows what else that i can’t even remember.

i am mortified.  and i have to continue talking to him for another 20 minutes as i pretend that nothing is wrong but really i can’t listen to anything he is saying because my body temperature has just shot through the roof and i’m trying to replay our entire exchange to try to figure out exactly how much of an idiot i have made of myself.

turns out it was a fair bit.

there’s nothing i can do to save that exchange.  i’m just gonna have to live with it.  and see my lecturer at residential school in a few weeks.  and deny that we’ve ever spoken. 


the greatest love of all

is not inside of me (‘cos doesn’t that freak anyone else out?  ewww).  the greatest love of all is karaoke.  and this past friday nite it was even more specific than that.  this past friday nite we booked out the karaoke and dedicated it to the late, great, whitney houston.  in other words, we had whitneyoke.

we took that room by storm, my friends.  ‘i have nothing’, ‘i will always love you’, ‘how will i know’, ‘the greatest love of all’ were all showcased to perfection (aka: we were at least as good as whitney in her drunken stagger across australia last year) and a territorial fight for ‘i wanna dance for somebody’ (“no do”) (i lost).

all i can say is that there were too many people and not enough microphones.  who knew  my work mates had so much whitneytude.  

anyway, because that’s not quite enough songs to fill the three hours we had for the room we decided to branch out to all things whitney like bobby brown, dion warwick, tina turner, gloria gaynor.  but i think we drank a bit too much champagne and some meatloaf and billy ray cyrus slipped in (achey breaky heart?  maybe we were just describing how we felt about whitney’s death).

who knows.

i would post photos but i was too busy doing key changes on one knee while on top of the coffee table to take any.  if any photos emerge from the paparazzi that was no doubt hiding behind the couch the whole nite, i will let you know.

RIP whitney – you would have been proud.


sometimes you’re not wrong, but you’re not that right

so, i find it a bit interesting that the whole kony 2012 backlash happened the day after i made the post on ‘the fight against everything’ in which i stated that to do something, anything, was better than doing nothing at all.

why is that interesting?  because unfortunately, kids,  kony 2012 actually served to illustrate that you can indeed do something that is worse than doing nothing.  it took me a good few days to come to this conclusion.  at first, i was really loathe to stand on the side of the critics of this project for fear that the critics were only wanting to be self-satisfied and smug about sitting on their own personal wealth because clearly only idiots would take up their time and money to fight against anything, and anyway, it sure isn’t my fault.  you get that sort of attitude a lot when you campaign for something and sometimes just convincing people that it’s okay to care about something is half of the battle.  so when the world-wide sensation of kony 2012 came along and all of a sudden people all over facebook, people who i’ve never seen take part in a socio-political discussion or even know that a place like uganda exists, were jumping all over themselves to fight for it.  it was incredible.  people rallied, people stood up to be counted, people made noise. so, the fact that after a lot of investigation into the issues it does indeed seem like kony 2012 was made by some self-serving halfwits, means that it is a really unfortunate day.  unfortunate, because due to these idiots, the people who stood up for this are going to realise they were conned and then that’ll be the end of the days where they stood up for something.

as for my part –  i was wrong and i oversimplified.  you do need to think for yourselves and do your own investigation into causes before you get on board with one.  otherwise, doing something could be more harmful than not.  i guess what i really meant was, that out of all the really good causes you could be contributing to, doing anything for any of them is better than doing nothing – that it’s ok to make a small drop in the ocean rather than wait for something extraordinary.  but anyhow, kony 2012 taught all of us a lesson of some sort.

the end.

woolstock – a photo essay

every year me and a bunch of my friends take the weekend to drive through country that looks like this:

then we get all dressed up in some on-theme ensemble and pose like this:

then we sit and eat cheese and drink champagne and wait for the sun to go down like this:

then it’s time for the fun to begin and we jump on stage and rock the party, something like this:

and party in the paddock all nite, taking photos like this:

and then we crawl back to our tents and sleep next to the campfire like this:

it’s the biggest little music festival this side of dubbo.  it’s a night of getting all your friends together and remembering that you’re not too old to have fun in a paddock and drink too much champagne and get on stage in a kaftan.  and that, my friends, is something well worth remembering.

oh and….

only two more sleeps til woolstock!

the end.


the fight against everything

we all know it’s not all shits and giggles out there, folks.  there’s enough crap going on in virtually all aspects of human, animal and environmental life to make your head spin and the earth spin off it’s axis.  probably literally.  and i know it can be completely overwhelming and induce in you the desire to ostrich it.  so,  i just wanted to gently urge you, and to remind myself, that every little bit counts.  whether you’re a dedicated activist or whether you’re a one-time donator to the local charity, don’t be afraid to make even the tiniest of differences.   i recommend:




the thing to remember, i guess,  is that it doesn’t matter what you decide to do.  and you don’t have to worry about the fact that you can’t possibly do everything.  you don’t have to.  if you wait for the biggest and the best opportunity to exact change you could just end up twiddling your thumbs for 50 years and then find yourself, shrivelled and pruned, sittin’ in your nursing home talking to your pet rock, morrie.

instead you can just do simple, small things in your day to day life and if one particular thing suits you better than another it is ok to just do that.  because something is better than nothing.  am i right? 

maybe it’s easy to just start switching all your powerpoints off at the wall, or maybe you decide to only buy organic, or maybe becoming a vegan is a viable option for you.  maybe one day you feel like you’ve got a spare five bucks and you can donate it to a cause, or maybe you want to volunteer your time to refugee kids. perhaps next time you’re at the shops you choose local over imported, used over new and you walk there instead of drive.  maybe you just sign a petition for workers rights, women’s rights, gay rights, human rights, animal rights whether it’s in person, over the internet or you like a link on facebook.

talking about links on facebook – dudes, i can talk about picking my nose on there and a hundred people will like it, but if i post a link to some sort of campaign it’s so quiet i can see tumbleweeds blowing through cyberspace.

maybe you decide to simply not back away.  that counts too.

and as  my good friend recently pointed out to me, it is indeed impossible to be righteous about this stuff, none of us are saints.  but don’t be afraid to be seen to care about it.

who you gonna call?

this year we are breaking up our annual pilgramage to Woolstock (more on that later) by staying a nite at the big, old, rambling hotel gearin, smack in the middle of the blue mountains.

now i love, love, love me the gearin.  it is as old as the hills themselves with loads of corridors and stairwells and dark corners and bay windows and rooms inside rooms, inside rooms.  so i suppose i wasn’t so surprised when the finch dug up this pearler:
dudes, it turns out the Gearin is haunted
“it’s said that a ghost appears at about 3am each day, and that regardless of how warm the hotel is at the time, a chill descends over the whole building. several people have reportedly seen the figure of a woman walking around the hotel at different times, as well as an apparition resembling a young child.”
now that is a good old fashioned ghost hunt, my friends.  never mind that the only people up in the hotel at 3am to observe this phenomena are the same ones that have been drinking there since 10am, i am determined to see me some ghosts!and remember – don’t cross the streams!

stay tuned for updates……


i don’t know about you, but i love my sleep.  i dream about sleep when i’m sleeping.  i crave it.  i consider it a hobby.  it makes me happy. going hand in hand with me being a sleep junkie also means i’m not a big fan of getting up in the morning.  it’s getting in the way of my fix, if you know what i mean.  so, left to my own devices, i usually don’t get up particularly early.

here’s the catch.

i actually love mornings. 

i mean, if i’m forced to get out of bed for work or travel or a breakfast date i quickly realise, everytime,  that I adore being out in that special glory that only morning provides. 

it’s the light.  lets talk about that light. there’s something full of promise about it. all sparkly and fresh like the sun just got up and had a shower. unsullied by unmet expectations of the day, the light in the morning is altogether fresh faced and wide eyed.   it makes me feel young.

i love being up and outside in the mornings, wandering the quiet neighbourhood. being out in the morning makes you feel privy to some sort of secret alliance, i feel cheeky, pleased with myself to be a member of the special club, separate from the rest of the world still asleep. the morning is about quiet alone time, about the scent of coffee, about the stillness that precedes the wind kicking up and people getting up.  i love a good morning.

my brain also functions better.  i’m more alert, productive and full of energy.  it really is a bit of a paradox for me.  sleep, meet morning, morning, meet sleep.  you guys need to get to know each other and come to some sort of arrangement.  i need more of you both!

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 1 other follower