It’s nearly another year.


Baby is almost 12 months old now. Big baby.

We went overseas for 3 months. Big holiday. In Estonia.

Work hasn’t changed much. Marika doesn’t work now though. No one does anymore, in her office at least.

Exercise is non-existent. Baby impacted routine too much. Can’t successfully adjust it without ruining the fun for Marika.

Eyebrows are getting bushier. Ears are getting hairier.

Baby may be blonde and left handed. Maybe.

We really enjoy having a combo slow cooker/pressure cooker. It’s a quality of life improvement.


Sympathy for the blog

Well, holy cow.

I sporadically check my [this] site (narcissist, a lot) and typically just shrug and feel bad about not updating as frequently or as passionately as I used to… The action is fruitless yet I can’t repel the initiative until it’s done. It’s my own site – I know I never do anything with it, yet I check it as if I expect something new to have occurred. It’s like opening an empty refrigerator every hour when you’re bored and expecting a new, delicious food to appear out of nowhere, patiently waiting to be consumed: no matter how many times you try you’re met with denial, self-pity and defeat.

Yes, back in the LiveJournal days things were rosier and friendlier and more conversational and, well, raw. I’ve (semi) often reflected upon how often and candidly I would catalogue my general life experiences (to an embarassing degree, usually). (I even self-critique my use of bracketed asides. I can’t help that. I’ve always found it difficult to only write about one thing at a time when my mind naturally wanders. This is probably of zero interest to you, dear reader, but it’s important for/to me to jot this down. For some as yet unexplained reason)

Regardless, those days have, sadly, long gone for this blog. I do miss them. Somehow they felt simpler. More like an actual journal of thoughts and feelings that I unabashedly shared with the world. Or the web, at least. I guess that it’s still mostly private though if this page only gets 10 hits per month. Even if those 10 hits are probably some form of spam bot. Hi.

Strangely enough, the older I get the more difficult I find it to commit to a routine. Even for breakfast. My “internet experience” has gotten a lot smaller and I find myself only browsing the same handful of sites regularly. I have a lot of pages bookmarked for legitimate reasons but I never really find myself caring/energetic/curious enough to bother both checking and reading them. That is, I might randomly click on one once a month but then decide I can’t be arsed reading their updates. I suppose that’s why this blog has no traffic either.

Anyway. I’m a bit drunk writing this (when else do I ever update?) but even then I sound like I’m on a pointless whinging ramble.

Let’s document some facts (sorry, I know I always end up doing this and become dismissive during it). Someone may be interested in it some day. Maybe I’ll have great-grandchildren who give a shit what their previously 32 year old, dead, great-grandfather felt and thought one Wednesday night.

Marriage is good (hi Marika).
Work is work but things are spinning around to what I kind of want… so that’s good overall.
House is good.
I’m still not a handyman.
Another school reunion is occurring this year. I hope it’s good.
My bowling is very inconsistent.
My patience for games is down.
My poker is dead.
During the week I can’t wait for the weekend.
During the weekend I have no idea what to do with my free time and generally end up sad or drunk in soft-depression for wasting it.
I’m (99% of the time) sticking to my latest P90X3 routine which is keeping me somewhat fit and strong. When I run/jog however my heart feels like it’s dying. I guess I’m fit for sprinting.
Our bar is afloat.
I’m polishing off all of our remaining whisky and red wine (almost single handedly) because I want to get rid of it. In an efficient way, kind of.

Meh. Long enough.

Time for leisure

Today feels like one of those days. One of those days where I may end up regurgitating spicy dredgings.

I have nothing to do. The weather is half decent. I woke up early. I did the shit, shower and shave combo, sans shave. Made some tasty buttered “whisky marmalade” toast for breakfast accompanied by a lazy plain black coffee. You know the kind, when you just pour hot water over grinds that have been scooped into the bottom of the mug. Tastes just as good as filtered if you ask me.


Like this, but not as fancy or dainty – bigger and heartier instead (because I’m a man).

I started dilly-dallying around online, skimming over whatever pointless articles or forum posts or emails or shopping deals my browser could scour up from the blandest corners of the web. I was utterly bored and I knew it.

Well! A wave of motivation began to swell inside me. Partially charged by hunger, partially by greed and partially by the need to do something. Anything.

I decided to have KFC for late brunch.

I don’t know where the sense of urgency for the Colonel’s secret herbs and spices came from. I imagine the cravings I experienced were akin to those a pregnant woman might endure. My mind had wholly absorbed with purpose: eat some chicken.

I headed out, on foot, deluding myself that walking there rather than opting for  the drive-through would swing the pendulum of guilt and gluttony back towards equilibrium. I even consciously sidetracked myself to inspect the local community garden/church/graveyard out of curiosity. It was colourful and creepy. I tried to find more reasons to delay the inevitable return to my journey but alas, there was nothing and no-one else to peek at and judge internally. I had to press onward.

I trudged along the path in front of me, half willing, half reluctant. Why did I allow myself to begin this? Was I that weak? Couldn’t I have just had another slice of toast? Why didn’t I just have serial or at worst, a sausage roll from the service station nearby? Coming to terms with the death grip that my stomach and subconscious had over me was proving to be difficult. My legs were just puppet legs, being pulled along by an unseen force. My tummy grumbled and growled louder than my internal rational monologue could plead, drowning it out.

Up ahead, I saw something. Something big. Something standout. A beacon. A beacon of salvation? Perhaps. It wasn’t the Colonel and his short, black stick figure body, no.


I always used to think that his tie was meant to be his arms and legs.

It was the Happy Science church. Of Sydney? Unfortunately I could not be brought to spiritual happiness, as they had nothing scheduled for that day and were closed. Wretched El Cantare, teasing me and leaving me to suffer. Perhaps, in his universal wisdom, he wanted me to experience physical happiness this time? Would he lead me to a new awareness in the future? Only time will tell.

The cold, hard reality of my situation finally sunk in. I knew there could be no escape, no turning back. Not this time. Perhaps there never was hope? All of my resistance had proven to be futile. My will had broken and I had succumbed to the call. Was this fate after all?

Without thinking, my feet led me towards the electronic doors. They slid open smoothly and perhaps a little too quickly. I didn’t hear them shut behind me once I stepped inside. My senses became dulled. I felt like I was wafting through life, like a cloud or vapour in a soft breeze. Most of my memories from inside this Southern temple are just a blur, a dream.

I didn’t even need to read the entire menu. The Zinger Box stood out as if it solely was adorned in flashing red and green neon lights. My eyes were affixed to it as the cashier took my order. I merely pointed towards it, unable to make an utterance in my near-fugue state. The cashier didn’t even need to look. He knew what it was. I think he said something about “regular”, I don’t know how I reacted.

Within moments I was seated and devouring the most delicious portions of fried chicken I’d ever experienced. The crunch, the spice, the surprising (relative) lack of grease and slime made every bite a moment to savour. I could feel my stomach patting me on the back for delivering this non-nutritional treat. The salt from the fresh chips and the mayonnaise on the burger and the tenderness of the chicken all revitalised my essence. I attacked my serving ravenously, only hesitating to tear at the moist towelette packaging to wipe myself down.

A calm began to fall, draping itself over me like a security blanket. The mist in my head was clearing. I’d stopped eating. I was satiated. I cracked open the can of Pepsi Max that had somehow been there all along and slowly sipped it. I spent a few moments reflecting on what I’d just done. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be that person, but I was scared because I liked it.

The walk home felt uplifting. I saw things I’d never noticed before. It even felt like I was walking faster.

I knew I’d still be bored when I got home. That’s when I bought some beer.

Hello new place.

Got our Internet connection working in our new place tonight. Now I can still be bored but online as well!

So yeah.

Moved from apartment in Artarmon to an apartment we bought in Chatswood. Newer building, little bit smaller but rather sexy.

Wedding photos arrived about 14 weeks after the wedding. Marika has them online so if you know how to find them you will.

We’re still married. I’m used to wearing the ring.

Marika’s family arrive on Wednesday for one month. We’re both taking time off work for their stay.

Wifi has stopped working and our Foxtel box can’t get iQ/high def. It’s also a flakey box. Tough times.

I made a Christmas icon for myself! redknobiconxmas

What, wait. What’s this bullshit? WordPress is now displaying ads in my posts?

That’s it. I’m going to migrate again and lose the rest of my audience. All one of you.

Late night

Wedding overseas was really good.

I will speak more about it another time. Almost everything went to plan. Even the mini-honeymoon in Thailand was about as bang-on as we wanted.

I’m quite tired because I’ve sat up for the last few hours mucking around with my new virtual server. Yeah, yeah. Whatever.

Really better get to sleep.


Don’t think I’ve updated this in the AM much, ever. Fascinating.

Had a nice weekend, got to Lloyd and Kerry’s wedding which was very enjoyable. Tip of the hat to them. The weather held out long enough to let all the action occur without any real interruptions, so that was a bonus.

Speaking of weekends, I’m kind of bummed that it wasn’t another long one. I’ve kind of had three in a row and I believe it’s a lifestyle I can get right behind. It’s a shame there aren’t many real options to work 12 hours/day for 3 days/week because that’s another thing I can get right behind. Finding something worthwhile to do with the extra 4 days off is another challenge but it’s not a bad one to have, is it?

Clocks rolled back an hour this week and it has immediately begun feeling dark at 6pm again. A shame. It feels better commuting in the daylight. Driving home from work at night has a trace of depression in it, I think. Even when one’s home, when it gets dark earlier it makes time itself seem to pass faster until all of a sudden it’s after midnight and bam, you’re probably going to be late for work. “Probably” is inaccurate, actually.

We’ve booked accommodation in Thailand for after our wedding. I’d reveal the location but I don’t want any of you groupies making a surprise appearance. Marika will give it away anyway. 3 nights in Thailand is 90% cheaper than 9 nights in Tallinn. I know that’s not actually comparative… fuck it. Still hurts. I suppose the place in Tallinn did offer to pick us up and drop us back off at the airport in a limousine. For 25 euro each way. Not so VIP now, are we?

Oh, look at the time. I’m late.

Kicking back in the wet

It’s been raining all week and will continue to rain for the next few days. There’s nothing really to do except sit inside all weekend and do nothing, apart from eat, drink, watch TV and strain my eyes via a PC monitor.

To be fair, that’s an accurate description of most of my weekends, irrelevant of the weather. Usually though it’s a choice. When it rains your hand is mostly forced.

Regarding eye strain, I now have two sets of glasses. One for work and one for home. According to the optometrist, my vision is first rate but my eyes focus too hard when I’m looking at screens. This has literally caused me headaches for months. Wearing the spectacles seems to be making a difference. Thank you, Specsavers.

Really not that much more going on. It’s been a bit of a grind week by week with no real excitement, I’m afraid.

I’ll think about it some more and see if I can make an inspirational update.

Exams are over

For the kids.

I’m still drinking cheap beer. It provides rich headaches.

We’re moving out on Friday. I have to pack my bags and throw away some unused clothes. Any takers? Come get it.

Everything feels mehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Slow slow slow

It’s really frustrating having a 100/100 seedbox when your home connection downloads at 1.

Tomorrow we are having a homebrew party. Tonight we have a case of Budvar that was brought back from Czech for us.

Tonight we are watching a show about homeless people before what I can only imagine will be a pleasant screening of Lightning Jack.

Life is alright. Thanks for your attention.

So here I am

Nothing much to report. I went back to Tallinn last week to see off Tim and meet some more of his family. I did a fantastic job of getting completely blind drunk and making a dick of myself. I don’t really remember any of it except that I was probably speaking way too much and being smug and offensive in a hard-to-detect-but-with-jovial-intent way.

I’ve been pouring out hours and hours watching The Wire and haven’t regretted a minute of it. Everyone should watch it. I’d heard about it before (and only heard good things) but never made the effort to check it out until recently. It’s so hard to stop watching. My eyes are becoming more red each day.

Poker is going alright, for all those that care. I’m getting better, I think. I still tend to go spastic and ruin my winnings on occasion but, meh. I’ve moved up to 10NL, finally. I hope to be comfortably floating around 20-25NL in May. I think I should be on target, assuming I can get enough hours in.

The Winter Olympics are on but I don’t give a toss. That’s about all I have to say for that.

I’m in dire need of a haircut. This is getting ridiculous. I’d take photos but I’ve put myself through enough shame in the past week.

I… am quite bored.