I’ve decided to leave my job, after only a short time in the position; odd, it feels as though I’m finally embedded, actions are coming to me naturally, I don’t have just colleagues but friends, and in some ways I actually enjoy it.

Life right now feels like I’m at the start of a hike. Geared up, jacket ready in case it rains, the trail ahead of me, uncertainty because I’ve never walked it before, but a trust in myself because I have walked before. I have ‘hiked’. Suppose life is a series of hikes, this coming change is my next one - leaving the job was pretty much like getting out of bed at last, leaving the house, and just fucking doing it.

Thankfully, this time I haven’t “lost my job” (see my very first blog), but this time it’s by choice - not by sacking, or inevitable forced quitting due to moving allll the way back to the UK.

I think I’ve had more jobs while writing this article than your da’ has had hot dinners.

Planning the hike

When I landed in Australia, it was pretty much a case of “what the fuck do I do now?” I’m not someone - and certainly wasn’t at the time - someone who would siesta, relax, let time pass by. I wanted to do things. At the time, Bec & her kids kept me busy (football, cooking, pub, all sorts). That first night after landing, sitting with a coconut infused Fish curry, looking out the window, hearing just waves & leaves, no clue what was coming next.

I do remember saying though, “wouldn’t it be cool to be a barman at a cool bar somewhere. Cocktails or something?”

Funny how life comes full circle like that. Eight months or so later, I’m a cocktail-trained bartender in the heart of Sydney. And shoutout to Georgia for this fact, which I didn’t know, we also worked in the same area where the Matrix was filmed…look it up “Matrix filming: Martin Place, Sydney”. You’ll probably see a photo of people walking past a large fountain. Head past that, and on the right is Cabana bar.

The point of all this waffling is that in the back of my mind was an interest. From making my first Old Fashioned in a funky Jazz bar in Ocean Shores, 20 minutes from. Byron Bay, to Cabana bar, to Beeston Social - I developed a passion. It was always there, in the form of curiousity, I suppose it was just my job to exercise that - to “scratch the itch”. That’s what I believe with your path in life, from what I’ve found. Those little things you’ve “always wanted to do,” are just subtle indicators of future passions. Things you should delve in - not because you know it will become an instant passion, but because not knowing is a missed chance to discover one.

As soon as I came home, honestly I was confused. I jumped into my kitchen job & gardening so quick, barely rested, bar a brief and wonderful holiday in Spain where I decided it was the time to change. Offered a job at BeAtOne Bar, if you recall? Nah. Not my thing. Then Beeston social were hiring, it all sort’ve fell into place. I wanted that “bartenders rush” again. You know, when the bars fucked with orders, and you have to step up & perform. The thrill of it pulled me in, and with social being later hours, it was adrenaline that kept you in it. 8pm-3:30/4am is a pretty standard shift, and I did Friday’s & Saturday’s, alongside other work. I was going to leave after a few weeks, but wanted to persist; when the University football coaching position came to fruition, my mindset changed and I knew I couldn’t have Mondays feeling like shit again. I needed to rest, not sleep 9 hours from Friday-Sunday, while still going to the gym and playing football. Simply not fucking good for me.

As hospitality does, it holds some of the best, most interesting people you’ll meet. Genuinely top people. Ambitious people, people who will stay, or are just waiting for the “next stop” to head to their next destination on their very own hike. Cam, he’s going to make it in MMA, Aziz, he will go into Tech, Jamie will be a big fuck-off chef, he’s definitely got the temperament - and that’s just a few people from this job. I love my colleagues, they’re my friends now, and I won’t stop seeing them. The problem with hospo is, you can’t be sucked in by the idea that the people keep you there, it’s easy to get trapped.

So yeah, I’m done. Next Saturday is my final shift. One last late shift, then back to working in the family business. It’ll be nice to have some nicer shifts - it must be said, a more relaxed environment will do me the world of good. More sleep, the same money, opportunity for a more flexible schedule, all of the above, just works better for me.

The job has to work around what I need, it’s why I couldn’t stay at social. So, Saturday and done. Very soon into football coaching, and becoming absorbed by that - my dream.

One last shift. It’s been a rollercoaster - just another milestone in this hike of mine.

You vs Imposter Syndrome

Never have I ever felt as confident as this period that I’m in. Mostly because I’ve began to employ a “fuck it” mantra when it comes to my endeavours. New role, nervous? Fuck it. Remember the recipe for that meal you saw? No? Fuck it, you know how to cook. Trying is doing, yes it doesn’t always amount to success, but you are doing a thing - huge win. Then it’s on you to decide how far it goes.

I’ve been fighting the “you’re not good enough” voice for fucking ever. Forever. Never felt like I’m doing enough. Rather than villify the thought, I’ve realised that in certain doses, it’s healthy, I think. Because the level always raises, right? Had a good game of football, someone compliments you - ah, nice, but in the first ten minutes your passes were wayward, and you could’ve been more ruthless in attack. No, don’t ignore the praise, absorb it, but also look at how you can improve your game.

The issue presents for me when the “you’re not good enough” is not simply a motivation, or a minor statement to describe the need for incremental gains, but when it stops you doing things. As soon as you have the belief you aren’t good enough, you won’t be. Sometimes the confidence just edges you over the line of being good enough — what I’m saying is, even if you aren’t ready, which in most cases you are but are overthinking, being confident will make you believe you are ready, and you will start to outperform your expectations.

I’ve been nervous for the step up in football, in all honesty. Coaching is hard; often you have to coach people who are better than you at football, maybe know more, more experience. Those factors induce imposter syndrome, I’ve felt that. It’s only when you open yourself & your ideas to challenge and opposition, and logically deal with it, adapt to it, that you will curb that imposter feeling, and improve as a coach. I’m trying to be more open to others’ ideas, but also with my principles in mind; I’m not changing my view football for example, I’m allowing experience to shape it.

My best mate Dan has always been an inspiration for me. He pushes me to be better, and honestly does fill me with confidence. He reminds me that I can do the things I want to; external voices are important. Luckily for me, I have the best couple best friends anyone can - Declan, for me, is hands-down the most confident person I’ve met. It’s crazy. Backs himself every time; any new hobby, he just backs himself to be the best, if not at least one of. Spend enough time around that mentality and it irradiates. So grateful for my mates - even with the shit they’ve been, and go through, they remain themselves. Fucking sick people, I hope you find friends - brothers - like I have.

Another thing, if you ever want to see where confidence and raw persistence gets you, check out Spain striker Ferran Torres. Once a meme at Barcelona, now a world-cup winner, and a debutant at PSG who scored two goals to kick off his time in France. Fucking awesome. That is the way.

Confidence is key, manos.

Song of the week

I think we’ve had it before, maybe I’m not being varied and daring enough to discover more new music. When I had Dan over for a pizza, beer and music last week, after some Pink Floyd we got onto Staind…man.

Aaron Lewis’ passion & emotion just passes through so good. His vocals are just, mwah. Wow. “Take it” is simply one of my favourites. First found it on an instagram reel about some comeback thing. Was cool visually, but the song make it legendary.

dun, dun, dun dun…EVERYTHING THAT I COULD SAY TO YOU, WON’T HELP YOU…EVERYTHING YOU NEED IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU, SO TAKE IT!

The instrumental is sick. Guitar fits perfect. And come on, those lyrics are philosophy, beautiful. Give it a listen.

This weeks takeaways

Every week I feel like when I write this, I feel better. It’s nice to have a record of the week, the biggest happenings - it’s nice. At the same time also to have a space where I can be held accountable, or where I think I will be. Genuinely I feel like this blog has made me a stronger, more versed person. I needed this. When I lost my job back then in Sydney, this gave me a sprinkle of routine, a time for reflection, when I needed it most.

You’ve watched my journey pretty much every week since November 2025. Isn’t that mental? And we’re still going. This week maybe didn’t sound too crazy, just quitting a job, but it is so much more than that. It’s an opportunity for something new, the very start.

I can’t wait for you to see this next bit. It’s gonna be fucking awesome.

See you next week,

Jamie x

(Pep is my idol right now)

BBC News, MumsNet, your angry old neighbour, and Dave down the road have been whining about the Grass in our parks. The poor grass. It’s dead! Dead forever! We’re fucked! Ahhhh….they forgot that, no matter what, the UK has this one special ability. That being, the ability to completely sodden the nation within a few short hours.

Take this, I’m coming out of a gym session, I check my weather app, no rain is stopping for at least an hour or so. I still needed to do shopping, and cannot do Leg day (legitimate reason) because of football that evening. Long story short, I get drenched, head to toe, all the while I’m dressed like I’m at a summer football camp. Shorts and a sports tee, fair to say there was zero protection.

It’s the art of Britain. One minute you’re hot, the next your not. Next minute your in pain, and in the rain. I tried some rhythmical wordplay there - sounded real daft. You get the point, it rains, it winds us up, yet it’s all we pray for when it’s hot!

Welcome to god knows what edition of “I’m Broke in Sydney”, Live from Nottingham.

Smiling when shit goes wrong

Today’s been one of those days. Actually felt very good, which has aided me given what’s been going on.

Firstly, actually had a cracking coffee with Dan. We’ve made some pretty big decisions with the podcast, also discussed some of our plans going forward with him off to University, and me starting to work at a University. Exciting times ahead, and in fairness, the coffee was overdue. We see each other all the time, and last night Dan came over for a pizza, some beers and music after coaching - but that feeling of a good coffee chat is like breakthrough after breakthrough. I feel like all of our best ideas have come from a chat over a coffee, and now Dan is drinking Oat Milk Cappucino and not weird Ice frappucino matcha latte’s or whatever they’re called, I think he’s about to enter the next level.

I’m doing a bad description of a bad day, aren’t I? A good gym session came after all this, only for me to then get caught in the pissing rain all the way to the shops, and the entire way home. Belting it down. Just had a haircut, and I was pretty much drinking shots of hair wax. Tasted funky, smelt nice, my crafted haircut - for the moment - fucked.

But, like I said, I had a good gym session. I had a nice coffee. And even when Spotify - which was left to play random music - decided to fire Radiohead songs at me, I smiled. The honest truth is that there really is a level of control to be had over uncontrollable situations; the control is not in what will soon/is impacting you, but how you react. Being pissed off, getting riled up, running home, you end up walking in stressed, and doing the same shit you’d do if you just relaxed, accepted it, and smiled. Yes, some shit is annoying, if you had paper bank notes, or broke your headphones, maybe be angry. Even then, can you change it? No. shit happens. Smiling in the rain is a real life test.

I come home anyway, shopping away, have a little scroll (I hate it) and because parents have been away, I get a bit feral. No one to bounce ideas off of, rant to, or just chat shit to. No one to decide the volume level of my speakers. I go a bit crazy in the house alone. Picture this, I’m doing reflections from last nights training session and BANG … click click… bam no, it is not a Saliva song. This was what I thought was pans. I check the kitchen…nope? Odd. Bedrooms? Nope. Only the bathroom…ffs. Buddha’s head has been cut in half, a plant pot all over the floor covered in Q-tips and what I - as an uninformed bloke - assume is makeup pads.To add to this, a nice dose of rainwater to clear up. Big breath in, dust pan and brush, five minutes later, brand new - with the exception of the beheaded Buddha, which my mum is yet to discover. We can choose to be angry, react, and go mental - in an empty house, there’s practically a license, but fuck it. Just clean it and move on. The awkward dead Buddha phone call won’t be fun though.

Keep smiling, you can control that!

That state of mind, and football

I keep banging on about football, but genuinely, right now I’m at my peak — that is no overestimate, but pure fact.

From a playing perspective, Sunday was one of my favourite performances in the 9-a-side journey that I’m on. Massively underdogs our team - the score showed it, spanked 8-1…I think that was all? “Only 7 more to go lads” as we score finally with a minute to go. Despite a heel in pain, a nasty bruise on the shin, and exhaustion, a good shift. Pogba, Tiago Alcantara, Dybala, so on. Idols.

Now coaching. A session me and Dan - who I also coach with as mentioned - built over the end of the weekend/early week. A warm up, couple technical drills, possession game and later a normal game. As grassroots goes, most of it gets thrown out of the window, and from there it is the coaches job to decide what we can do instead - not a day before, but moments before.

One lad just came back from a collarbone injury, he can’t face physical tackles, and even if he’s a ‘neutral’ player in the middle of a possession game risks tackles. Dan’s technical ended up scrapped this week as the first tech we did was complicated, yet in the end simple (head to for more on this session). A good drill too, the next session we do will absolutely feature it. Initially we hoped for a build-up + pressers drill, but with Harvey’s situation, and other constraints, we decided to go for a 4v4+2 possession drill.

That snap decision, the communication from and between me and Dan, was excellent.

One thing Dan mentioned is that my interventions during drills was great. That compliment, it means the world to me. I’ve been afraid before in coaching that what I’m about to say will be laughed off. Well, I say, fuck it. If someone doesn’t agree, depending on their experience, don’t tell them to “fuck off” but listen to why, but also trust why your opinion matters. Believe me, even if someone says your wrong, they may just see football different; what makes you special is how you view it, communicate it, organise it, and eventually translate it into a hopefully successful model.

I feel as though now, I’m far less willing to give up on a drill just because it’s “hard”. In before times, I’d just go “ah, fuck, try something else.” No no, fuck that. If you believe it will help your players, why would you stop? If you’re willing to give up on a drill that will benefit them just because there is less mutual challenge in another drill, do you really care about you and your teams development? Learn together, succeed together, I think that’s a life motto for coaching.

I LOVE the state of mind I get into when the challenge is tough, when I hear whispers of suggestions from others in the background, and yet I grind away and make it work. I LOVE when a pattern emerges and I just can’t wait to blow the whistle and demonstrate it. I live for it. I finally feel like I can showcase my ideas, and make them a reality - don’t get me wrong, I’m no pioneer. These are ideas people have had before, but these kids, they are learning. So am I. But the enthusiasm I employ, I want them to share it.

My voicebox is always sore after sessions - always shouting “YES…so and so”, “WORKKKK LADS” or “DO NOT BE PASSIVE” I love it. When you get that passion out of a group, discover who wants to be better, and make those who lack that will take some from others, and develop themselves, that’s what I want.

I love every moment of coaching. That intense mindset, where nothing else matters, is exactly what I need more. It’s such a privilege to be able to help others develop, I will make this go somewhere, I know it.

What does a ‘better me’ actually look like?

I’ve admitted this before so it’s nothing revolutionary so to speak, but for a while I’ve struggled with consistency - in my mind at least.

I’m consistently doing shit, so I think it’s unfair to suggest I’m not a consistent person, but certain things I’ve just never managed to keep consistent with. One being the gym, another being matching the diet with that. For 12 weeks, my gym app has been recording progress - for at least 10 of those weeks, I’ve attended the gym 4 or 5 times a week.

A better me looks a lot like what I’ve always wanted to be - stronger, stronger looking, confident, confident looking and eventually doing what I love as a job. A proper job. Or even a business of my own in something I love.

Having, and keeping/maintaining my principles is important to me, also. I feel as though the values I was brought up on I should absolutely uphold, alongside the ones I discovered from the things I don’t align with. For example, sometimes you need someone to show you exactly what you DON’T need to hold as a value to realise what values you DO need to hold. Simple.

I want to be able to drive, give myself more freedom, continue to be an athlete, demonstrate my skills as a leader, communicator and a sharer of ideas. A coach, I want to improve as. A brother, I want to raise him well. A friend, I want to see mine do well. A son, I want to make her proud.

You’ve set me off on a rant about self-optimisation here. People say it every year that ‘ this year’ is there year. I honestly just believe we move at different paces - thing is, I can genuinely see my progress, and when you do, it’s hard to slow that down or see otherwise. I just want more, it’s that simple. I’m loving this part of my life.

Song of the week

We have a double-winner(s) this week. Two of my favourite songs from the week, both with 11 plays - different wave lengths, but so good.

I was feeling a bit ‘Rick Ross holding an eagle’ this week [pic attached below]. I woke up, could hear “stay scheming” when I opened the window. Typa shit. I felt good - when have I ever listened to rap in the gym? Not since 2021, at least. Maybe even 2020. Until now, it used to be ‘Lemon Pepper Freestyle’ now it’s Rick Ross hit ‘Cigar music’. Ever feeling good, unstoppable, and a bit ‘boss’? This is the tune. Just makes you feel impenetrable. Fucking GOAT music for a good day.

As for this next one, hits a deep emotional level. Featuring heavy on Instagram reels at the moment, “Oh yeah” a new release from the ridiculously talented Steve Lacy, is a banger. Famous for making a beat for Kendrick Lamar on his iPhone, Lacy is simply one of the best there is at the moment. The new album just hits. This song, from moment one, just touches you - brings you on some unexpected journey. On the right day, right night, right moment, game changer.

A good week for music, have a listen!

This weeks takeaways

Just the one takeaway this week. Banger of a BBQ Chicken pizza from Forno’s, big shout out to the delivery driver who supposedly came to work on his day off just to ensure we got our order inside 20 minutes. Bossman.

In all seriousness, I’ll probably just say - from what I’ve seen and thought of this week - just trust yourself, your process and your values. Don’t change how you are for someone else; if they choose to love you or hate you, be okay with that. You attract what you deserve. It works both ways.

Have the best week,

Jamie

Subscribe now

Another good week, this one more notably better than the last - it feels like my mentality has upgraded, hugely. Alongside this, the UK is back to moaning about the heat, global warming, how their grass is dying…and the price of a Hugo Spritz?

Ah, Britain. Never, ever change. For anyone.

The heat is hot, the ground is dry - but the air is certainly full of sound! Sorry, throwing some lyrics in that relate. If you know the song, comment, brownie points. Three points = twix bar, so wait for more guessing games…

All in all, a very positive week. In all honesty, and dare I say it, I feel more ‘back’ than I did before…

A gardeners life

It’s something I’ve pretty much never got into in detail is this. I work a few jobs, some more than others, as I’m attempting to enjoy being 21, save up money, invest in my projects (including a cool as fuck Podcast studio) & pay for driving lessons — all while trying to keep both Kidneys!

I’ve had a bit of a rough relationship with gardening since coming home. I mean, I’ve done it since I was 18, technically 16 if you count me working for myself as a kid, and it’s something I enjoy, and in some ways something I would say I’m pretty good at. Now I’m not the type of gardener you see at the Chelsea Garden Show, my plant ID is okay, but admittedly it could do with some work. Back to my point, coming home, the heat, work, all of that matched with being exhausted more than usual, I think it just made me lose love for it. But this week, it just feels different - I enjoy it again. The energy feels better, even if its a 35 degrees scorcher.

The feeling of chucking your shirt on, some long work trousers, making sure you’ve got your cutters, gloves, goggles then all your food/drink bits for the day - at 7:30am - is quite humbling. A nice thing about this job is when you’re paid, you genuinely feel like you’ve earned it. Not to say I don’t feel that in other roles, but often the physical toll, makes the money smell even better. Especially when you’re already sore from the gym.

It's not perfect. Then again, is there a perfect job? God no. But the feeling of being trusted to get on with a job, I think I enjoy that. I crave responsibility, and jobs to do. That’s why I think gardening stimulates me, and why 30-minute jobs feel worse than 3hr jobs sometimes. Smaller jobs typically need less, bigger jobs have so much to do - you’re constrained by time & ability to complete jobs, which I feel gets the best out of me.

Speaking of constraints, Chris Williamson - of ‘Modern Wisdom’ podcast - did a podcast fairly recently with a science journalist, David Epstein. I’m only half way through, but today while cutting a, what I’d guess to be 12ft conifer, I thought ‘yeah, lets bang a pod on.’ This once came up, as I’d already listened to the pod’s latest Q&A, and I found it fascinating. They spoke of a company called “general magic” who had amazing ideas, some of the best ideas, but in essence too much freedom. They had endless ideas, but almost no direction. It went bust, the engineers joined other companies (Apple etc) and helped produce some of the staple household technological items we have so abundantly today. Why is this significant? Because when they wen’t somewhere with a direction, and constraint in regard to what they were making, shit got done. It’s almost how I feel with gardening - I have a direction, a set of jobs, and a position. I know them, get them done, move on.

It isn’t my dream to be a gardener, but the experience has given me a lot. Commitment, a stronger work ethic, broader experience in a valuable trade, knowledge of flora, and some good mates. So grateful for the opportunity; hey, without it, I wouldn’t have been in Australia in May last year - let me tell you that.

Where’s all this good come from

I woke up, I think maybe Thursday last week, and something felt different. No gardening, just a chill day off. Had a few bits to get done for the day, but was actually just planning to relax.

Some how, I just ravaged through basically everything I had to do over the next few days - even got some long-term goals done. What a feeling. Paid for flights to Munich for Oktoberfest, paid for my first driving lesson in three years, gym, shopping, savings arrangements, all sorts. DONE. You ever have those days where you’re ultra productive but it kind of peters out? I’d say I have that, but since Thursday I’ve, in truth, felt fucking incredible.

As would happen, some really frustrating personal shit has happened this week. But even with that, I’ve brushed it off, moved forward and realised that - as harsh as it sounds - people are in many cases simply people who will come & go in your life. Just recognising where to place their significance is important. I’m guilty of becoming attached in friendships, and 'situationships’ - one method of staving away from that was remembering not to put people on a pedestal. A good person values you, a good partner/pursuer makes you feel wanted & loved, even when they aren’t feeling great or energetic. On the flip side of that, why would I offer someone without those things any of my energy, or desire? As Paulie Gaultieri would say, ‘Fuck that.' Admittedly I’m without a pinky ring, and have an ever-so-slightly better hairline.

So maybe my happiness is yes from the fact shit is going well, but also because of how I can leapfrog issues in a way that is more sustainable, not energy-consuming, and is genuinely successful.

I said to Dan - my best mate - this week that I feel as though I’ve upgraded. Mentality, hunger, energy, all of it. I feel better. I’ve lifted heavier, slept far more, enjoyed people’s presence more, played more football. All of it, a recipe for happiness, so it seems.

Speaking of enjoying peoples presence…I’m about to finish work, was around 9pm right, hour left, bottling up on the bar. Who walks in? Staff from my other job. All had a couple, but seeming good. I knew they were going out, but they really called my bluff on me not coming; come 9:45pm I was rushing upstairs, chucking a decent outfit on, and drowning myself in deodorant & Dolce and Gabanna. That was a subtle flex, sorry, but it smells fucking divine. Next thing you know, it’s 3am, I’m wasted, stumble into my house and wake up…fine?

Great night out. We need those. Unfortunately it’s my last couple weeks there, but even then, this group will always stay close - I can just feel it. Proper genuine people.

Ahhhhh. What a week. Just feel good. Confident you know? Now I just need to start fucking reading!

Comms, work night out

Back in the very hot seat

Yesterday was a bad day to wear jeans. I mean, appalling decision from me to even consider it.

Tuesday night came around and I just had this realisation, shit? I have commentary tomorrow…It’s been over a year since my last visit to the City Ground as a commentator. Walking through the car park, seeing the familiar faces, welcome smiles, my NHR colleagues, just felt so special.

Now while I had forgot I was doing it - and forgot my glasses - it was a special one. Forest against Leverkusen in pre-season, the penultimate game of the pre-season too. Forest had some new signings, new coach, and it just felt fresh - also the opposition, a team I have a soft spot for anyways. Köln more so due to Forest connections and one VERY successful Football Manager save. Nonetheless, a great city & team is Leverkusen.

I wasn’t commentating primarily, more offering insights as a summariser. A nice role, pretty relaxed, nice to show up and not have the stress of maintaining the stream, monitoring levels, etc. Also providing some analysis for Julian - NHR’s newest 16 year old commentator - was great. It feels strange to think I’m recalling my experiences, and offering advice to him as he starts his journey, as my mentors did to me at the exact same age five years ago. What a journey he’s starting on. Always an immense privilege to be in the seat and offering my opinion.

A great night, convincing 2-1 win, and some valuable lessons for me, Lewis & our new colleague!

This weeks takeaways

Music wise, it’s the same as last week! Shocker. Because of that, all I really want to add is this:

We have those weeks where everything we touch turns to shit, some weeks where everything goes our way. Just search for the balance, keep your head, and believe in yourself. I’m finding the more I let things pass by me, and just enjoy the moments, the better things are.

Oh, and also, eat Donut peaches. Fucking gorgeous. That and Golden Kiwi’s, guaranteed happiness basically.

Anyways, have a good week - Ciao!

Jamie

x

I’m a big thinker. A coffee, gym session, and back home to sit at my desk and just think, it’s more than simply a common occurrence, but more a part of my routine now. Here and there I just have a moment where I realise something, anything. What do I want next year? The year after? How will I afford it? But what about when I move out?

My head just moves, fast too. This past week has given me real food for thought going forward. Admittedly, I get too excited and tend to jump the gun in certain situations, but in my defence, I’m just passionate. Fuck not caring enough, I suppose I’m on that end of the spectrum where I care too much - there really is no middle ground.

So yeah. Home for 3 months now. Damn. Travel plans all but confirmed really; in my mind I’m going, on paper, nothing is even started. That’s the excitement. Where I’ll go? Who knows. Anyway, mind is running off…back to the blog…

Life does feel more complete

This sounds like an odd comment to make given the last paragraph, but let me explain:

Life is by no means ‘complete’ in regards to my journey. By ‘complete’ I refer to the idea of life being more solidified; certain elements feel stable, or returned to previous standards.

This week was my birthday party - don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t without its moments - but it was a great weekend. Georgia came and visited from London, as she’s just finished her first leg of travels around Europe, which was awesome. She also introduced me to Jubel Peach…what a beer that is. Special moments - from Sydney to Nottingham.

Amongst the party, and seeing loved ones, we had hired a photo booth for my birthday. Or should I say, my mum hired it, bless her. It was awesome. The photo album we have is superb; people I’d never expected to have photos together, just seeing so many different people meet - friends, family, extended family, all sorts. It was amazing.

In particular was a photo of me, my mum and my dad. The last photo I can recall of us three was back in 2021, at my 16th birthday party. Five years ago. For two of those at least, they haven’t spoken at all. It was only until a few weeks ago, as I detailed in a previous blog, that my dad walked in to have a coffee, and my mum was there. Me, just coming back from a haircut, was baffled - why is dad here? Why is he talking to mum? What changed? Well, families always argue, and certainly the relationship was at it’s lowest ever - by a mile. To see them together though, it feels as though for me that a key puzzle that had been missing was back.

I don’t expect it to be a regular thing, but knowing my parents are somewhat friends again, can be in the same company, and also to see my step dad getting on, as he always did, with my Dad filled me with a lot of joy.

These may be thoughts some don’t even have to consider, so if that is you, I suppose count yourself lucky, but regardless of how ‘normal’ or non-normal my family dynamic is, it does just feel so refreshing to have my family friendly again. That feeling, you can’t shake that. Honestly just over the moon with it.

Where do I go from here?

Some would say this is scary, some would say this is the beauty of life. Fear of the unknown, or fucking can’t wait for it. I sit somewhere on the fence with it. In truth, it is a fear of mine, you know, the future. Im a hypochondriac, and generally anxious as it is - for me, the fear of missing out on opportunities, or not doing the things I dream of, it does get to me. In particular, the fear of not knowing exactly what I want, and at the same time not falling into something, getting trapped with responsibility etc just because it pays well, when it isn’t what I want.

It’s rammed down our throats that we have to have it all figured out. All through school, you need to find your specialism. I just don’t think that was me. I feel as though I could have gone down a trades route - I enjoy it, I don’t fear work, especially a graft like that, but I also know it isn’t what I enjoy.

My strengths lie in communication, and in my view, leadership. I’ve wanted to be a leader my entire life of something. I love projects. When someone mentions an idea, I get giddy - I just want to run away with it. I want to run a business, but in what? Who the fuck knows. And that is my mind in a nutshell, endless ideas, but a fear of what to, how to, and when to execute them. I’m overcoming that procrastination issue, but even then, it persists; it brings me down sometimes.

Some days I really can be about to build the project I’ve always wanted to. On other days, I’ll be questioning it non-stop, before you know it it’s 11:30pm, I’m in bed, and there is zero chance I’m actioning anything.

I hope all of this made some sense. To be honest, if it doesn’t, fair enough. It’s just a strange feeling to convey. The feeling of knowing what you want, but not specifics, fearing trip-ups, and all the rest of it. I’m ambitious, confident, and know I want to be successful - my worry has always been HOW. Whereas really, I should ‘stick to my guns’ do what I’m good at, and just throw everything at that. Such as with coaching, I’m ready to give everything.

I suppose it’s all just a waiting game. Not in the sense that I’m waiting for opportunities to come to me, that’s not how I operate, but more so waiting for when my experience, knowledge and actions lead to me opening that next opportunity. That next door.

The reality of drinking less

This is a fun topic, isn’t it? I love a beer as much as the next person, but I’m starting to notice that, with me not being out as much due to work, working out at the gym more, and having more structure, I just haven’t fancied a drink as much.

Maybe there is nuance here. Perhaps I’ve fancied one, but not many - one nice cold Peroni after a long day at work, or to top off a big day. That kind of beer. Rather than one you abuse, and continue to drink eight more on top of. I’m enjoying beautiful pints, as opposed to continuous pints.

Now do not mistake this as me saying I don’t enjoy a piss up. I enjoy them very much - in good company, it isn’t simply a big drink-up, but a moment to treasure. For example, nights in the house in Cammeray, always ending with a dance, and a sombre tune. Jeff Buckley, Alice in Chains, Radiohead, emotional availability everywhere. It brings something out of us - the company that is. Paired with a few beers, and we do loosen up, let ourselves live and be honest more.

The point is more that, since cutting down on those big nights out, every Friday or Saturday, I’ve felt genuinely much better. Sundays aren’t recovery days, they are now just Sundays. I go to the gym, I eat better, and especially lately sleeping better - mainly because of the week off of the bar job to be fair.

I really want to put everything into the gym, into my passions & hobbies, and also my sleep too. I’ve abused my sleep time for ages, and since getting that sweet eight hours, I feel so much more energetic.

A random paragraph, but I just wanted to get it off my chest - plus, my mum, sipping a glass of wine, doesn’t want to hear my bollocks about not drinking beer as much. Especially after last weekends antics - she will call me contradictory!

Song of the week

It’s a classic. I saw Deftones live, and was praying they would play it. As soon as I heard that opening, I was drawn in; concerts freak me out sometimes, I’m scared to let loose a little, as soon as this came on, fuck. I was in.

‘Knife prty’ is a classic. From the ‘White Pony’ album - a staple for kids who grew up in the 90’s. Some real classics on there: ‘Pink maggit,’ ‘back to school’, ‘Passenger,’ the list goes on — without a doubt though, this is my favourite.

It’s intense, but you can bounce to it. There’s a sort of theme to it I enjoy - the dip in and out of melody, it just brings out a sort of energy in me. In the shower, writing this blog (it’s on right now) or wherever I am, it’s a feeling. I fucking adore this song.

9 Plays, just 2 in front of “Sweet sacrifice” by Evanescence. Deservedly at the top. So, so good. Have a listen:

This weeks takeaways

I would say a big thing is just making the most of what you have, but also in moments where things don’t go your way, relying on yourself to make them better. Also trusting your natural instincts, confidence, and so on.

Since coming home, I’ve felt that confidence far more. I feel genuinely so much better. It’s because I’ve come to trust myself more, and do believe I’m taking the steps to improve me.

So yeah, I’ll wrap it up with that. What a week. I think I’ve payed off my sleep debt now, so we are on the way back to normal..what a week, what a weekend…

Have a fantastic week, I’ll catch you soon.

Take care,

Jamie x

[Pictured: Me & Dec - my best mate - in said photo booth. He will hate that I’ve posted this, so I thought, perfect timing!]

As you can tell by the title, it’s been my birthday recently - yesterday at the time of writing. Yes, my head hurts. Yes, I did sleep for 9hrs after a huge steak and many Peroni’s. And no, that was not the last of the celebrations.

Turning 21 did get me thinking though: when I turned 20, the lads I coached in the Gold Coast called me ‘unc’ - what does that mean now? Shit, I mean, that ‘unc’ term is being thrown around like crazy. You know what though, I’ve always thought I’d be the coolest unc ever. The coolest old dude ever. My prime is 40yrs ahead of me — but this little ‘sub-prime’ that I’m in now, is pretty fucking awesome.

Never felt fitter, more emotionally balanced, or excited for what’s next. Despite getting the ‘scaries’ around my birthday, which I’ll explain a bit more later, it was a brilliant occasion.

Reflecting on 21 years of life

Now if I sat here in front of you and said “reflect on your entire life now” you’d probably freak the fuck out. In fairness, that’s expected; don’t expect me to write a whole bible on “The life of Jamie” - sounds boring. Plus, most of it is me either at school, playing football, or just being a kid.

The last, I’d say, five years have been the most exciting. I remember going to watch Brennan Johnson play for Wales when I was 17, having been close with his family they kindly invited me to watch him play. He smashed it. Was a great trip, one I’m forever grateful for as it taught me a lot about independence. Having a whole day to myself after everyone went home, in a foreign country, scared the shit out of me - but it also sparked that curiosity for travel.

My love for travel came from pre-seasons with Forest, my dear football team - the team that sometimes has me at my lowest, and sometimes at my best. A complete rollercoaster. But I can honestly say every pre-season game has been a joy. Valencia (mid-season), Berlin, Eindhoven, Frankfurt, Athens, and so on…amazing trips where I met now some of my closest friends. A big thanks to Dore, Malcolm, Gary, Kai, Billy, etc. Great people. They taught me a lot about trips abroad - especially when or when not to be a twat in front of opposition fans!

As soon as I was old enough to go away - and credit to my mum & step dad who trusted me no matter what - I did. I knew Australia would be the biggest challenge, but took it on head first. That trip was a bit of me, and it was spurred by those small holidays, a love for foreign cultures, seeing new things, and exploring. Often, I couldn’t really afford these holidays, but I’d shoestring it — we stayed in a £12 a night apartment in Valencia. Shithole, didn’t sleep. Did have a great time. That’s an example of many examples of just going, and worrying about the comfortability later on. As long as I’m somewhat safe, that £50 Airbnb for two nights will do the trick.

COVID came at an interesting time, luckily for me it ended before my 18th so I could enjoy the start of adulthood properly. Plus, it came at a time when I was coming to decide what I want — all that free time gave me time to be free, express what I want to do and who I want to be. Without that, where would I be? Nothing bad I don’t think, but would I be achieving what I am now? Or have the mentality I do now? Probably not.

I reflect on me turning 21 fondly; grateful to have reached this age. As we get older, we lose friends, people come and go, but sometimes we don’t get the privilege of reconciling or enjoying their smile again. I’ve had a lot of loss, since young, losing family and two close friends, Elijah & Owen, it hurts. As the saying goes “you grow through what you go through,” those experiences hurt me, and a part of me left with them, but I’m mentally stronger. Rather than be simply upset because of losing them, I remember the memories we made together, the laughs we shared, and how they impacted me. Incredible people - I’d rather see it as this: I’m grateful I lived a life they were in, as opposed to the rest of my life without. Some people weren’t blessed with their presence, I was. I’m lucky.

Sometimes I do get anxious about age; it’s an unsolved thing really. We know it is inevitable, and it never gets easier, so the idea of being more grateful, and just enjoying moments for what they are, it is more important as the birthdays come by.

So grateful for twenty one big years on this planet. Grateful for those who continue to love and support me, and to those who have at any point.

Here’s to many more brilliant years to come.

Someone asked me what I want to do for the rest of my life

Okay so back to the career talk. This question always freaks me out a little bit because in truth, I’m not sure.

Now usually people would freak out hearing that - by people I mean teachers who force on you that University is the only way forward to having a fulfilling, well-payed life. Bullshit, in my view. Now maybe my teachers will turn out to be right, maybe I should’ve gone to Uni, maybe I still will, I’m not set in my ways, I’m adaptable. The thing is, I’m determined to give 100% in whatever I do - I know what I’m passionate about, and from my experience, and the advice I’m given, by exploring more, and going deeper into my passion, I will find those opportunities.

I can’t be mad at myself or my progress, it’s evident. For too long I’ve beat myself up about not achieving enough. Again, it’s bullshit, but again it’s you v you for everything, for so long I was losing a battle with my mind & procrastination. I’ve commentated on four seasons (3x Premier League seasons), commentated multiple times at Wembley, met some legends of football, heroes of mine, been inundated with networking opportunities, travelled the world, coached, and now back home coaching, taking a dream role for me in a serious coaching environment at my local - sports acclaimed - University.

So what do I want to do? There’s no straight answer. What is my general set of passions, and my philosophy for life though? Well that is consistent. I’m trying to view life a little more like a game of football. I’d rather have an philosophy of ways I want to play, as opposed to a set in stone formation and structure with little leg room.

Aged 21, I don’t have a set in stone life plan, and that’s okay. Maybe you feel the same, feel free to message me, I always love a good chat. Message button attached below:

Being a cool unc

Alright so what I want to know is, as much as I know I’m not old and this really is the start of me coming into my prime, will I be a cool unc?

I’ve already started wearing loafers, that’s a longstanding dream of mine. In fact for the first time in my life, I have an idea of what good fashion looks like. We’ve come a long way from spiked hair, skinny jeans, astro football boots and your favourite football shirt.

Decided to don a new fit for my birthday meal. Miller & Carter is a bit of a staple for us as a family for big events. Birthdays, moving house, leaving do’s, anything. So you better look the part. My mum and grandma looked brilliant. My step dad rocked his classic look. I went for a Fred Perry ‘golf shirt’ in towel, some Dark Grey Urban Outfitters jeans with faint grey stripes in them, and some loafers. Topped with a ring and Casio watch. Ballsy for me, as I’d not worn in my docs, and have always been conscious of others’ opinion on certain outfits. However, now truly, I don’t give a fuck. It looked cool, if you don’t like it - oh well…

The shirt was one of those shirts - and it’s very much my style - that is ugly, but in a way that makes it also beautiful. Something your dad wore in the 90’s for family events. Or maybe it’s a bit Brooklyn in the 80’s & 90’s a little “AYE”, you know, “Oh, madonn!” (Sopranos/Italian-american reference).

With age comes some idea of what looks suit us, and what we feel comfortable in. One nice little thing about growing up is that as time goes by I discover who makes me, what makes me, and how to be comfortable. Clothes is a huge one; my only inspiration is the “cool unc’s” in the world. People who rock what they wear, no matter what. People like Action Bronson, Jacob Elordi, The Alchemist, et al. Random group, but cool as shit. Super authentic.

Random little rant there, but fuck it. World record for the amount of “unc’s” wrote in one blog, surely?

Song of the week

The gym was a big part of the last week, so it should be expected that heavier music should top it, as it has. While Deftones was the #1 artist across the week as the catalogue was mostly their stuff, the song with the most minutes is a belter from System of a Down - a US-based Nu-metal band.

“Aerials,” is a song from the band that is supposedly about escaping the norms of society and realising we are all just one species. We’re all in this together. System are a band with heavy political influence; Serj Tankian an armenian musician activist, other band members heavy in their views too - some Trump lovers, some haters. A very interesting mix.

There music is a little bit crazy. Some crazy beats, incredible musical switch-ups, but how hectic they are is what makes them so good. If you’re in the gym and need energy, System. If you like songs with meaning, System. Its a band with depth, and that song ‘Aerials’ is an all time favourite of mine - one that got me into the band.

11 listens last week, just 1 in front of ‘Take it’ by Staind, a close race, but System comes out on top. Do not miss out on this one, have a listen.

This weeks takeaways

Well, given the events, it is certainly to enjoy what and who you have in your life. Your next birthday isn’t guaranteed, nor are the things and people you love. Not to go to morbid on you, but that’s fact! Enjoy them!

In all truth, I’m a bit rough from the weekend and some beers yesterday, so I’ve certainly felt better. But now the preperation is all about this weekend - a big 21st birthday party with friends and family. Going to be a bit crazy, to say the least…

Just so happy to be in the position I’m in now, to have what I do, and who I do, extremely lucky. Also buzzing because Georgia, who I lived with in Sydney if you remember, will be at my party this weekend. When worlds collide, right?! How exciting. She’s been on such a journey - can’t wait for her to meet all my friends and family. And also, for her to see my home. How far we’ve come, from Sydney to Nottingham. 10,000 miles, and much more. The world is incredible.

So lucky.

Thanks for reading - catch you next week!

Jamie

It isn’t about marvel, or any superhero for that matter, Psychology on the other hand does come into this - albeit not from a psychologist. For the record.

However this week has been a real cocktail of both looking back (retrospect) & looking forward, eagerly (anticipation). An interesting mix of emotions; somewhat overwhelming, but also sort of relaxing.

Thinking back on Australia - triggered by a video we found - and various past experiences, with an eager to eye to what the future holds. It’s a bit of anxiety, a bit excitement, some happy, some sad. My mind is just racing.

It’s been a good week, incredibly busy, and my minds been at work non-stop.

All said, it really is nice to be back!

Where the f*ck did a week go?

Why the asterisk, you ask? I don’t know, I almost don’t want the first swear to be in a subtitle. Instead, nicely tucked into a paragraph somewhere; in a subtitle seems a bit ballsy, even for me. Probably contradicted myself, but who cares!

This weeks been hectic, I mean seriously busy. The perks of being a barman in a busy bar, typically a weekend-heavy sorta bar, is that the nights are late, the shifts are often inglorious, the customers often wrong (I’m being polite here), and any thought of anything but those five wells, hundreds of customers, and the drinks, is non-existent. It’s one of those jobs where you almost jump into a character skin - you become the job for 8hrs. That’s partly why I love it, partly why I hate it.

Mates ask me why I do it, what’s the point? You can sit in an office, or work day shifts somewhere, much easier. But fuck, doesn’t that terrify you? Encapsulated in this tiny box, talking over emails, calls, texts, limited real human interaction, your face pushed into a screen all day? I mean, there’s no doubt offices have there perks, and despite my rant, I enjoy office settings sometimes - a contradiction yes - because it feels ‘cool’. In both senses. That air con must be glorious.

That rush I spoke about though, that’s the spearhead. That’s why it’s fun. When someone gives you eight drinks to remember, when you have to code switch with every different customer, dealing with nasty customers - especially on Saturdays - all while trying to keep yourself happy, and make sure they, the customers, have the best night possible. It’s a juggle, and I love that. And then coming to the end of the shift, with your music on, looking for which beer you’re going to sink, or take home, now that is one hell of a feeling. That is hospitality manifest.

This weekend just felt like more though, and I won’t lie I did struggle. A morning shift Friday, then to another job in the night, home for 4am, in bed for 4:30am, up for 7:30am (more like 7:56am) and then out the door to play airsoft at 8:15am. Barely any rest, heading into close-quarter combat airsoft games. Brilliant. The whole situation is actually my fault though, so don’t feel bad. I knew we were doing it, it was a private party, and yet I didn’t book work off, and did stay up for half an hour to drink a peroni. That is my own fault.

The weekend was just a blur. I had a few days off the gym, which stoked my anxiety a bit, as I want to be as consistent as possible, but nonetheless I’m back to it now.

I’ll tell you I’m grateful for the week that has gone by, but had you asked me anything work related on Saturday, I’d have politely told you to fuck off.

I coached again, and it just feels right

You’ll notice the blog is out later this week, I apologise! It amazes me when someone texts and asks “hey, where’s the blog at?” I’m so grateful people care enough to ask that question. It means a lot.

One benefit to it being out a day or so later is that you can hear about my coaching situation. I’ve been back at Beeston FC - the grassroots team I coach - for the teams first session back since the summer break, and after world cup/weather interruption. Finally, we got a fairly warm, but safely warm Wednesday and no England football. And no, I won’t comment on the world cup here — for football opinion, head to

It started with lacing up my Preds. For none football people, it’s like shopping at Carhartt compared to Primark. You feel the quality, you sense it, like, it just is the best. However, unfortunately they are a tad too big, but for coaching boots, they’ll do. After five minutes lacing them up, me and Dan - my best mate who gets the most mentions out of anyone here, who also coaches at Beeston - pinged a ball or two together before the lads arrived to train, then we got stuck in.

Dan’s more experienced than me by time spent coaching. Coaching at Northumbria Uni in Newcastle with various teams, he’s a source of knowledge an inspiration for me. To be coaching again with him, like we did in that cold match over a year ago, it felt good.

We only did one drill really throughout the evening, well two variations of one drill, before doing a 4v4. Me and Dan raised the intensity, added some food for thought when it came to actions during drills for the players, with our most valuable contribution being during the 4v4 match at the end.

As I do, I get involved. I can’t help but talk during a game, maybe my commentary roots shone through, but even in a fun end of session game, I think it’s important to demonstrate some key principles. I noticed how we were compact in build-up and the negatives of that in the situation we were in. After demonstrating the importance of width, me and Dan took a team each. It was lighthearted fun, with a pinch of seriousness - okay more than a pinch for me, I get too involved - but it was great for them. And for us as coaches, a great exercise of our mind.

I used to doubt myself when it came to coaching, but like Dan told me, he thinks it is because my mind searches for evidence. I lack evidence having my own team, but my experience, demeanour, and knowledge is good enough. I always tell the kids I coach to take risks, trust themselves, and so on - yet do I do it myself?

I know where my ceiling is, last night was a mere glimpse of it. I’m so excited for what’s next.

Why does looking forward help us when looking back?

This topic really interests me. I’ve looked back on so many memories this week - in fact on this day a year ago, I was finishing up time in Western Australia. Great memories. Even with the unfortunate yet inevitable parting of ways with Bec, it was a beautiful moment. She may not share this view, but I loved the dynamic, the company, the music, all of it. It was a great trip, together.

I look back on recent times spent with the best people - my Cabana loves, coaching lads, my friends I met in Sydney, so many different people, I miss them. The last house I lived in, Bella & Georgia, It’s hard to think I go about my days without them now. Here is where anticipation comes in.

There was a point I was eager to see to the future; who will I meet? Will I meet anyone? I sat at my home in Byron Bay practically waiting for it. The cafe I went to knew me, they knew my order, and the rest of it, that was it. In Sydney, it took a few months, but I could walk down the street and see someone I know - that’s in a big city. Life changes. So when you look back and think, gosh, I miss them, how can I live and not see them like I used to, remember when you wanted, all you wanted, was those kinds of people. How lucky you got to meet them, and enjoy their company. Be grateful for it and remember, the world really is small. If you want to see them, you will. I can’t wait to see my people again.

When you look back, you can get sad, I get it, but look even further back and remember that moment where you had no idea these people even existed. I walked through Martin Place, Sydney, all the time and never heard of Cabana. Soon enough, I was a regular, had friends, a full-time job, and purpose. That’s how life changes.

Don’t look to the past for what you miss, but for what you once dreamed of having.

A quote I loved from this week

Ethan Hawke, a famous actor, was on the red carpet speaking to influencer/journalist (No clue what she is) Amelia Dimoldenburg (if that’s how you spell…) a while back, and I’ve seen the clip a few times but never actually understood it.

“The one who is in love always wins,” he compared it to the sun not caring if the grass is grateful for it’s rays of light, and says “it just keeps shining.”

It’s powerful as shit, truly. I’ve had some moments where I’ve been grumpy this week; I still feel bad for snapping at my mum on Saturday, it was dumb, and yes I feel a twat for it. Speaking poorly to my mum is not in my nature, nor was I raised to think that’s acceptable. If you speak to your mum like shit, number one, I don’t want anything to do with you, number two, god forbid you are pursuing my future daughter, because you won’t be seen in a hundred-mile radius of our house.

I'‘ve tried to love a little more, not for what you get back, but because it just feels good to give love. To give appreciation. To suppport. Like with coaching, we give so much support, confidence and so on, to the kids. We don’t expect life advice, gifts, or anything back, we do it unselfishly, to see development. It’s the same with love. Love with no expectation of receiving it; just do it because it’s your nature.

I want to walk into work and make someone feel good. I want to come to coaching and make the new lad feel comfortable. Go into a cafe, and compliment the barista on their creation. Tell the owner how much I love their spot. You know? Little things.

Certainly not perfect, far from it, but I’m trying to smile more in every situation, avoid conflict, and just enjoy peace of mind more. I don’t need to stress over small shit; life is way too short, and not worth wasting.

Thursday night came by last week, football night. Had a storming game, up until the confrontation. A lad, who I actually like, put in a late challenge, standing on my achilles, for no reason other than frustration, and I lashed out. Grabbing and pushing him. From there, I lost my head a bit, that reduction in focus, loss of a goal, and wanting to take vengeance ruined my game. Same can be same for life, when you let life hook you in to negative shit, you ‘bite the bait’ so to speak, it’ll drag you down, distract you, and ultimately you will fall short of realising what matters.

My nature isn’t to hold a grudge. Me and the lad were fine come 11pm that night, so much so we are driving to football together on Saturday. Two days of football for me this week too…that’ll be fun.

Give some love out this week, every week!

Song of the week

2.3k minutes of listening time last week, 38.33hrs of listening across the week, one and a half days of music. Wow. I love music, and I think that shows!

This weeks top song is a classic. In my top three, no argument. It’s gorgeous. The entrance of a sweet chord, you will know the song immediately. ‘Wild horses’ by the Rolling Stones - who also won last week too - is an all-timer. It supposedly relates to love, regret, and so forth.

Keith Richards wrote the guitar on a 12-string intended to be a lullaby, with Mick Jagger hearing it, and contributing the lyrics to it. Some say it was about a past relationship, but maybe the meaning is broader.

Wild horses - free running, unpredictable, yet beautiful. Surely represents something. We could sit and annotate the songs all day, really. All you need to know is, the song is close to me, I first sat and listened to it right where I’m sat now. In the main bar, at 11am, in my family pub.

It’s emotional, raw, perfect. Give it a listen, the Stones really are one of the best to ever do it - and I mean that!

This weeks takeaways

Well, yeah, just that theme of loving a little more. I’m actually about to go on a lunch with my grandma, some tapas and music time after. It’s going to be great. I need to see her more often; she likes to keep herself busy so often it isn’t easy, but to hug her more, and enjoy her presence, that would mean a lot.

Also, believing in myself. Translating confidence on paper to reality. Remembering why I was put on this big ball of rock. To fucking smash whatever I put my mind to. I’ve been raised to think that too.

Another big moment for me this week. My mum and dad stopped talking two years ago; now for context they’ve been seperated for 18-19yrs or so, forever basically, but maintained a friendship throughout my life. After a big argument between me and my dad, they stopped speaking. Completely. I wasn’t sure they’d speak again. Well, after a haircut on Tuesday, I walked into where I live and saw my dads van. To my surprise, him and my mum were having coffee in the corridor. I was honestly just stood in shock.

My family dynamic has never been normal, nor have I ever painted it to be. But while it’s not normal, it can be peaceful, with love there. I’m so grateful my step dad found my mum, because he’s the best thing that’s happened to me really. I love my dad, and I’m so lucky to have him too, I’m grateful to have them both in my life. They’ve both added their character to me. Added layers. I love them. More importantly, my mum, who despite everything has never stopped me seeing dad, never wanted me to not see him, and always been a rock for me.

Be grateful for family, cherish them. Even if it is a bit of a fucked up, strange family dynamic, who cares. Make the most of it.

Have the best week,

Jamie x

(Pictured: the Airsoft boys - or as I call them: Seal Team six-seven)

The week has genuinely rushed me off my feet. In between lots of work, behind a bar, in a kitchen, in someone’s garden…there’s always something to do - and I mean that so literally. The heat too, fuck me. If anyone ever tells you that the UK rains all year round and isn’t hot, they’ve never been. Despite having what some would call a “twat tan”, I still have a tan — the UK isn’t all that bad!

For the first time in a few weeks too, I’m back in my spot too. By the window at Greenhood, my favourite Café, drinking an Oat Cappucino and eating some fine banana bread. That combo, it’s - in my world - like watching Defoe & Crouch coming up against you. Iniesta & Xavi combinations. MSN. You know I’m cooking - it’s THE combo.

IT’S GOOD.

Reflecting on the last seven months

I’m about to turn 21 in what, a week and a half? Pretty crazy. In my mind it’s like 2021. Running it back. To think it’s 2026, I’m out of sixth form, out of full-time education, not playing Saturday morning football, and that I’m 21, is just crazy. Even more crazy to think it’s been over a year since I stepped foot once again in Australia on the start of that new journey. Around now, I was in Western Australia fishing for fish, going on boat journeys, drinking & BBQ’ing, snorkelling, and everything in between…crazy.

Often we reflect, but we reflect - in my view - wrongly. We jump to the very best moment, and we judge everything by that standard. Now that’s wrong in my mind because life is about balance. Maybe you’d prefer to find that best thing, and judge on that. Fair, do your thing. Equally, you could go to the lowest moment and judge everything on that - in that sense, 99% of things are the best thing ever. Or, like me, take both into account. How often did I actually just enjoy days. How many days went by and I genuinely enjoyed the presence of myself, others, and moments. I’d say this last seven months has had about everything needed to create a pretty good balance.

Australia, trips in Australia, new friendships, returning home. Work stress, reduced hours, leaving friends, job struggles. The equilibrium being those days where despite the challenge, I showed up and kept doing what I do. So for me the last seven months represents how I’ve come out of the previous tough-ish seven months, and turned it into a huge positive for me.

I’ve grown a lot, gained a lot, lost a lot, but I’m still me. If anything, me^2 (Squared). I feel like I’ve learned a lot about me since the start of the year. Especially how important it is not to leave keys in your house when you live in a house with doors that shut and lock by themselves…please see New Years’ blog. What a dickhead.

Often when a door closes, another opens, and I feel that is true. Energy wants to balance out - it isn’t always instant, but it almost always takes place. I feel since Elijah’s passing, mine and Dec’s friendship has got stronger - in grief, it often has to. When I left my friends in Australia, I gained back my friends in the UK. When I stopped coaching, there was a rift in time, but I’m back to it. You see the theme? It all comes back around, not always in the same form, and that is the beauty of existence.

Sorry to go all weezy woozy it’s a fugazey, it’s a fugazi on you, I’m just saying from my experience how life often goes. Maybe we’re in a simulation…

…joking. Right? One coffee and I’m all on some crazy podcast conversation bullshit.

That opportunity I was so vague about

Speaking of coaching, I can finally announce the news that I was waiting to hear back on, and let me paint the picture for you before I do.

It’s a Wednesday night, Japan vs Brazil, a great game given Brazil’s renowned flair, the fact they are managed by Don Carlo Ancelloti and come on, it’s Brazil. Against them, a calm, composed, ultra-technical Japan side always packing a surprise or two. I had Japan to win, but Brazil pulled it back. I was distraught - as much as I love Brazil, I wanted an upset, surely one of the joys of the world cup?

Why was this significant? Well my parents were camping so it was my turn to look after the house for a bit. Just a couple days, but I will admit, it was nice. Working, coming home, cooking, chilling in the kitchen with music blasting - and I mean blasting - it was cool. I thought I’d invite our Dan over to watch the game. Few snacks, then we ordered a pizza, even watched some of Germany’s loss to Paraguay, admittedly fighting off tired eyes.

We got onto the topic of coaching during the night, and Dan suggested I email local Uni’s about coaching. Low and behold, that night a receptionist emails me back and says she’s passed on my info & enquiry. A day later, me and Dan are having coffee and boom, the invite for a meeting comes about. Interview about the chance to coach at the uni, I had no idea what to expect. Shit, I’m getting goosebumps writing this.

The meeting comes, and the idea is touted about coaching a Women’s side at the Uni of Nottingham. Wow. This is what I wanted, the chance to coach in an environment like that, a top sporting University. This is perfect. The chat went well, I will say interviews tend not to make me nervous, but I was twitching slightly. Ever since coming home, my focus has been finding work, and coaching. Now, it looks set to be a reality.

So I can say it now, and yes I’m typing with a huge grin, I’m the new head coach of the University of Nottingham Women’s 4’s.

A dream opportunity, honestly. It presents so many chances for me, challenges, all sorts. I’ve never coached Women’s football before, so it’s a new exciting start for me, something that will broaden my knowledge of the sport, and coaching in different environments. I’m beyond ready for this.

Since my time in the Gold Coast, I’ve been praying for another opportunity, but in truth, the opportunity doesn’t come when you pray for it, it comes when you search for it. Now imagine I hadn’t sent that email? Or more strangely, not had that football night? That’s how crazy life is. That’s why you just have to trust why things happen, and make shit happen for yourself. Whatever is in your hands, enjoy it, and what is not, let it be.

Honestly just buzzing to say I’ve got this chance. I won’t waste it. I still remember nights just sitting their when I was in Australia looking back at games, wanting to do it all over again. Now is that time. What an opportunity.

Trying not to stress is sort of working

Not stressing, or relieving yourself of stress is a fucking art by the way.

We all have those moments where we just flip the lid, we lose it. I lost my shit over a stupid podcast recording last week, I fell out with my step dad over the placement of my Creatine tub. Dumb, stupid shit. Trying not to stress, while an art, is one I want to dedicate myself too honestly.

Are your meal preps out of date? Ah don’t worry. Go to co-op and get a meal deal, it’s fine. Did you stain your shirt? Chuck some vanish on it. Did the podcast fuck up? Annoying, but just sort it, it takes a few minutes. Searching for a solution before searching for a reason to validate my stress has helped me.

Why waste five minutes stressing, when you can spend two minutes coming up with your solution? Yes Jamie.

This is somewhat reassurance for me. My biggest stress is time; even writing this, I’m worried about my day. When do I shop? Cook? Gym? Sleep? I need to let life play out a little bit more in that respect. I do stress about silly things, but in fairness, I am getting better. Australia, and Australians, taught be to be a bit more ‘zen’ in that respect. Yes, shit will beat you up, stress you out, and all the rest of it, but how much do YOU let it do to you? Often it is not what stresses you that makes you feel the way you do, but how you react which makes it worse.

Easier said than done most of the time, but I feel like I’m just better at handling things now. Plus, hitting the gym when you’re having a shit day works wonders too.

Being busy has done bits too. This week has been easily 10hr days some days, if not more. Just on it all week, never stops. Work, football, work, gym, all sorts. A nice balance of work, hobbies and well, more work, does the trick sometimes too…

Song of the week

That time of the week. I will say, Olivia Dean made a very late surge in my personal charts - she’s awesome, right? I’ve been reluctant to enjoy her music too much because of, quite frankly, how overplayed she is on the radio. To you presenters, get some new material, and stop saturating Dean’s talent.

My guess was right, Rolling stones takes the top spot this week with their hit “you can’t always get what you want”. I’ve heard it so many times, always loved it, but this week I really took it in. The reason being, I’d stayed up late one night due to the heat and was watching small live music sessions - one from the Stones popped up, I couldn’t tell you where it was, but it was intimate. A room full of real Rolling Stones fans. I was so jealous. Mick Jagger comes on the mic - close your eyes, and you’d think he’s in his youth again the way he sings. Never lost it.

It’s just so crisp. The choir opening, the slow strikes of an acoustic, then silence as Jagger delivers the opening. It’s raw. Reminds me of sitting somewhere and literally just thinking. It’s emotional - I hold it in some ways in the same category as ‘Wild horses’, ‘Wish you were here’, ‘Landslide’, and so on. I call them triumph songs. Something you’d listen to, sigh a gasp of air, and reflect on an experience.

You can’t always get what you want, but you can listen to it as many times as you want! Might just do a pun of every song, fuck it. Have a listen or miss out!

This weeks takeaways

Making shit happen, that’s on you. My step dad has always told me that I will make things happen for me, and he’s right. I have to have that mindset, and I must maintain it. It’s who I am.

Also, get some good sleep. I’ve noticed on those days I stayed up when I shouldn’t, slept like shit, and didn’t rest up, I’ve never felt worse. My focus now is at least 8 hours a night. No, I’ve not watched one health TikTok and now I’m a pro, but some good sleep does go a long way. Being in a garden’s suntrap pulling out a hedge in 33 degrees heat, also while on 4.5hrs sleep, is deadly.

Other than that? Stay grateful. Make the most of your days, the worlds a crazy place, from my perspective, I’m very lucky and grateful to live the life I do. Grateful to my friends and family.

Can’t wait to see what this week brings - suppose we will find out next week, won’t we?

Subscribe (FREE) so this gets emailed to your inbox every week, it’s dead easy! Button below.

Have a great week, speak soon!

Jamie :)

The weeks are flying by like crazy. In fact as I sit writing this, its been two months since I landed home - admittedly still guilty that the first thing I did, after say goodbye to Georgia and sit down, was drink a Starbucks. A fucking starbucks. I’ll get onto that later.

This blog really does reduce a weight on my shoulders you know. Despite it being out late, I did actually want to write it - even as I’ve been grafting in these ridiculous English temperatures, once again. A bit burnt, cut up, and tired, but this weeks been good — once again, and as always, staying grateful, calm, yet eager.

So, a big question I asked myself this week…

Is there shame in pride?

I've been speaking to my step dad a lot this week, he’s a source of wisdom, discipline, and direction for me. We argue, laugh, hug, and have the darkest humour. Often, we talk life & careers - while I’m cooking in the kitchen, or on our sofa. Maybe even sharing a beer in the pub.

One thing that’s been mentioned a lot from him is how, as a young lad, he would try to keep me as humble as possible. It’s how he is - he’s raised me from the age of 23 (I’m turning 21 soon) - so he understands struggle and maturing early on, the importance of many of life’s components, including humility. As a, what, 15-year old, I had a podcast, was venturing into radio, on the verge of a Rolls Royce training week, doing gardening, starting a news page, all sorts. I was doing well for my age, making shit happen. He didn’t want my ego to grow too big, and so he’d always humble me - as a step dad should.

However, he raised it with me as to wether - not that it has changed anything - he should have been less humbling sometimes. Ego, for some reason, is something we fear. We lock it in a box, and so when a time comes where it jumps out, it’s all of a sudden one huge wave of ego - probably unhealthy. However, having an ego, a well-maintained balanced one, is the way to go, I think. Where’s the shame in it?

We need to believe in ourselves. We need to speak highly of ourselves. Be proud of ourselves. Relish the confidence we have. Why not? Life is too short, and while others do it, why shouldn’t I?

This doesn’t mean be a twat. No. Don’t put others down, your confidence is about you. It shouldn’t be used to harm others. Sway them? Sure. Hurt them? No.

But when you know you’re worthy of something, believe you’re up to the challenge, why not sell yourself a bit? Use your ego, use that confidence, and puff your chest out a bit. “Hey, I’m the man/woman for that. Here’s why…” Etc.

My question comes as I used to regularly fear giving myself too much credit for things. I’d go to the gym, refuse to acknowledge any physically positive changes. Maybe I’ve smashed out a project, but only give myself a brief second before closing the laptop and moving on. I’m trying to reflect more, give space for those pats on the back, and enjoy the wins I’m achieving.

I’m not low confidence, but I - often times - can be highly self-critical. Does it improve the output of my work? It’s precision? Yes. But it holds me back. I’m removing that.

You know Matthew McCauognahey once said that we should be “more full of ourselves,” and I can’t agree more. I can’t remember his analogy for not being a dickhead about it, but the idea of loving ourselves a bit more, yeah, I fuck with that.

I’ve been going to the gym five days a week for a month or so now. Win. I’ve approached new opportunities. Win. Eating better. Win. More comfortable with relationships, and making moves in that respect. Win. My room is cleaner more often than not. Win. I’m busier yet organised. Win. I have work, regularly, and I’m saving. Win.

Recognise your win, learn from your losses, keep being you. Yes.

I do not like Starbucks

Off of the slightly philosophical part of the blog, and it’s a dagger straight into the heart of the corporation that is Starbucks.

I don’t like it. I respect anyone who works there, have used there place before - admittedly once in a rush, last resort, or when jet lagged (clearly thinking strangely.)

My favourite coffee shop in Australia was factory grind. It was cool. Had a roughness to it, remember the Mafia analogies? Ahhhh. Where have those months gone! In the UK, it’s Greenhood. Ten minute walk into the town centre. After gym? Lunchtime break? Random trip? Who cares, I just go as and when. It’s the best.

The service is top. The staff smile. The owner, Rory, is wicked. It’s sleek, music is chilling but not downbeat, it’s well lit, and the coffee bangs. Most important to me is that authenticity, it’s local, by a local lad, served by local people - it’s a hub! I go there to write usually, this week being the exception because, well, I’m up to my neck in work right now. That said, didn’t stop me drinking my usual - Oat Cappucino. Althought missing the banana bread. You know what, that’s a point. I feel like they do it but I’ve never ordered it? I’m going to treat myself.

I brought it up because there’s one opening in Beeston. Not just anywhere, but opposite Greenhood. I want more jobs, so fair enough a job provider is coming in, opening employment opportunities - especially for young people - but man. Opposite? Fuck.

For some, coffee is a throwaway novelty, that’s fair enough, your opinion is yours. That being said, coffee for me is experience. Yes, I have quick instant coffee while gardening, but machine-made, barista produced coffee is an art, we should value it. Not just the taste, or the feel, but the experience and closeness it brings to us as friends, family, customers, all sorts. It’s a social drink. I always bump into someone I know when drinking a coffee. Greenhood offers a great drink and a great experience. Starbucks sometimes offers one of the two, in my view never both.

This is a bit of a call to support local. Not just greenhood, but any of your local coffee shops man. Get out there, buy a cup, chat to the boss, remind yourself of the enjoyment in having that interaction, someone enjoying their work, and you enjoying that product. People throw the ‘cost of living’ card at me, and I have a fucking rock to throwback.

It’s harsh, yes. But if you are spending money on a coffee, complaining about the cost of living crisis, maybe you shouldn’t be drinking it. If I can’t afford one, I don’t have one; I certainly don’t look for starbucks which is maybe cheaper, but often around the same, for a worse product. It’s a treat, I do it maybe 2-3 times a week. And believe me, I treat it as a luxury.

Shoutout to Greenhood, and all the local cafe’s, and businesses in general continuing to make a small part of a day, a huge part of our happiness. It means the world.

Being BACK and its nuances

Okay so I said “I’m back,” prepare to cringe now. What if I said, I never left? ;)

Jokes aside, I just feel good. Not without struggles, but my management of them is so much better. Feeling anxious? Gym. Music. Both. It’s a remedy. Work is a high-source of stress for most of us, but just by rocking up to the van, the bar, the field, whatever you do, and having a little smile, some good music on, and an outlook for the day, it matters. Yes, I do sometimes say “come on Jamie, just get past 12pm and it’s a home run…” who doesn’t? We all have shit going on, I get it. I’m fortunate, I get that too. But we can all try to be that 1% more positive every day, just have a bit more optimism in our outlook.

Where is the nuance to this? Well, it’s maintenance. I need to try and maintain this feeling, well spoiler, it’s impossible. Low days will get us. In fact, the other night I had a bit of a rough day, and my mood sunk. I did spiral a bit, as I often can, and two hours flew by me. Head in my phone. What the fuck am I doing? Got changed, went to the gym, hit a good session, and went home much better. Perfect? God no, but better. That was a ‘sad songs’ night at the gym - ever had one? On the right day, it’s a killer. That last rep you’re fighting for, when you get it, it hurts, but feels so good.

In a way, while I feel like I’m truly back in the sense of being productive, happier and healthier, I also feel there’s new layers to myself. More open. It’s no secret that I have been far more emotionally available, and honest about my life, what I love, relationships, and so on. I think my newest layer is that non-fear of confidence. Pride in myself, and the belief that I will make a success out of the things I love. People, projects, whatever it is.

To be honest, the one thing I’m itching for at the moment is a Man of the Match vote for the Thursday 9-a-side game. You heard it here first if so. Got to go and put a shift in, see what happens.

I feel I know myself better. My identity, who I want to be, who I want with me, and what I want from it all. While at the same time acknowledging I don’t know everything, certainly don’t have it all figured out, and that I’m still so open to exploring and experiencing more of what the world has to offer.

If you’re reading this feeling flat, unsure, or unheard. I love you, you are heard, and hey, if you ever want a coffee and chat, I know a place!

Song of the week

Once again, Staind smashed it out of the park. I heard this song on an Instagram reel, some dude doing preacher curls blasting out “Take it” by Staind. Holy fuck. The chorus is just so worth the build up.

The song is heavy drum & guitar instrumental, with Aaron Lewis’s hard vocals behind it. Hard, heavy, but also still emotional in some respects. In essence, if you’re trying to get a pump, hit that 12-rep set perfectly, or push higher in weight for your last set, let “Take it” do the work.

Staind are huge for me. They cover some iconic songs - ‘Nutshell’ being one - amongst others. I love the metal-y approach to emotional music. It’s sick.

With 19 plays last week, it’s smashed Sade “cherish the day” out of the water. I love Sade, and what a switch up it is, but Staind takes it - pardon the pun - once again.

This weeks takeaways

I still sometimes forget I spell takeaways that way. For some reason I always try and split the word. Anyway!

Again, always to be grateful. But this week I really want to challenge you - go out and do something you’ve wanted to do for ages. Ask that person out. Email that dream job about opportunities. Fuck it!

Life is shorting. I’ve suffered a lot of loss in my life, obviously more recently Elijah. Life isn’t to be wasted, so if you have that idea, pursue it. You got this.

This blog feels wayyyy more emotional than normal. Maybe the heat is getting to me, who knows. I feel lucky, to have you reading and processing my words, is such a privilege. Honestly.

Thank you,

Jamie x

Subscribe now

This week for me has been a bit of a crazy one. Obviously the first full week of work completed, planning ahead for the new football season, a new blog, a crazy football match, and more.

Every week is completely different at the moment. How wicked is that?

My brother beat me at football

Shit. The ego took a big hit this week. What was once my little brother, is no more. The 6”2 shitbag this past week decided to pull an absolute blinder — a game with the ‘big boys’ and he smashed it.

You may know by now that Thursday night football is a staple of my life. Playing with various lads - some regulars, some new - about 20 mins from my house. A nice hour or so of football, to a great standard too. Any team I’ve been on has been on the receiving end of a loss for the 4/5 games - don’t you dare put the dots together. Bastard.

Anyway, Thursday. For once - the first time in our lives actually - its brother against brother. Declan, my best mate, behind him in goal, our mates Harley & Ethan in the same side. Me? Alone from them. It was pretty even for the most part, but we just didn’t have a focal point. Maybe the lack of goalkeeper didn’t help, constant swappig etc. Not to blow smoke up my own arse, but I did put on a show! Prime Manuel Neuer…no, not vs Paraguay Manuel Neuer.

One good thing I can take away from the game is that while my brother scored, and not just once, but four times, it was never against me specifically. He may have beat me in a 1v1 or two, but no goals against me. But all said, he battered us. He’s only 14, and while it does make me a bit annoyed, he is bloody good - I’m proud of him.

We all get a bit flustered when our siblings beat us at something, especially when it isn’t simply a fluke. Harry intended it, and smashed it. Fair play to him. Despite how annoyed I was - and by the way, his comments mid-match fuelled that fire - I am proud. Proud, but also in a £5 debt to him.

Football has been a bugger lately. But that burst of energy, lack of phone, care for anything but the team winning, it helps me so much. I really don’t think my weeks would be as good mentally without it. I’d go as far to say that I need it. That isn’t me being dramatic, either.

Fair play Harry, you got me this time. Not next time though…

The first week at work

When you throw into it that I also do gardening 2-3 days a week, it does seem a little tiring - oddly enough though, I’ve felt really good. Going to the gym, eating a lot, somewhat better sleep, and less beers, all contributing factors I’m sure.

This week I did a Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday. All closes. No complaints from me, had a full day to do what I like. Wednesday was a bit hectic, from gardening straight to bar work, but we got through that. I pride myself on the fact that I can graft. I can dig deep. I can absolutely without a doubt consistenly work hard, harder than others.

The Monday & Wednesday were a breeze to be honest. Wednesday was easy because, well, Scotland v Brazil…our resident Scottish Chef, Jamie, was not so happy. More so because every time Brazil made a good move, he’d turn to the bar, only to see me smirking. Sad times for the Scots…

Saturday though, the beast of the week. I can’t say I wasn’t warned, but in all honesty, the warnings probably weren’t enough. It was rammed, and in a way it caught me off guard. Of course with the England game it was always going to be pretty busy, and it was. During the game everyone was relaxed, of course beforehand we had a small rush, but it was manageable. England won, rather unconvincingly, and as soon as that whistle went, there was no time for punditry. God no. The DJ flicked on his set, and the place effectively became a full-blown club. It was crazy.

Cabana used to get full to the brim, it was messed up. But this was just insane. Only one bar, smaller space than Cabana, four of us actually serving, it was wild. After the first hour, I was fine - I needed to get into a flow. Half the time you’re making the same drinks over and over again, and before you know it it’s 2am, serving stops, and silence reigns.

Phew. Covered in Vodka, Gin, Red bull, the odd cocktail - but thankfully all in one piece. The job really is not for the weak-spirited, but if you imagine it was, maybe you are more misinformed than anyone, like, ever!

Despite the negatives that come with it, rude customers, lack of time to catch a breath, spilling stuff on yourself and the late finish, I actually do enjoy it. There’s a rush to it, it grips you - that’s the thing about working in bars. Maybe it pays the same as an ‘easier’ job, but fuck that. Sitting on a chair all day? Boring chats, LinkedIn language and crap instant coffee? Sod all of that. I’ll take vodka ridden shorts, a shot after work, and cleaning up sick any day over that. I feel alive when I work in a busy place, it activates me, engages me. Jobs that don’t engage my problem solving brain, simply aren’t for me.

Of course, long-term, I’m not sure I’d like to bartend. It’s a great job, not many complaints, but football coaching, or at least just working in football, is absolutely what I want, which brings me to the next point…

I made a new blog

No, this blog is absolutely not moving, ending, or changing. Expect your weekly blog, Tuesday’s or Wednesday’s every single week. No change.

BUT, I’ve said for ages, this year is all about football coaching - nothing can come between me and that. I want to develop, struggle, and solve problems. I want to make it as a coach, absolutely determined.

For ages I’ve said to Dan that in many respects I’ve been afraid to have an opinion on things if I’m not an expert. Quite simply, fuck that mindset. This new blog will essentially be a playground for me to hone my skills. Detailed session plans & descriptions, opinions, analysis, player articles, all sorts. Professional, concise, and hopefully great quality product.

I love writing. More so, writing about experiences. Not just so that it serves as a diary, or memoir, of things I’ve done, but also because it emphasises the moment. Fun, not so fun, whatever it is. Being present, experiencing a feeling, it is important.

Maybe football isn’t your thing, but still, have a look! I’m always open to feedback, and also some smiles if you enjoyed it. Proper excited for where the blog will go — no expectations!

Give it a follow:

Song of the week

I’m back playing the guitar after what, ten years? I was never good, barely practiced, and never appreciated how cool of a skill guitar is. Now twenty, almost twenty-one, I more than appreciate it.

Why is this relevant? Well, I’ve learned the chords to a song I adore, and from a band I simply have not spent a day without these past couple weeks.

Outside - Staind

Now there’s a rumour about this song. Supposedly, Aaron Lewis, Staind lead singer, had the chorus for the song pre-written. But the lyrics before and after were initially made during a concert. He was supposedly influenced by Limp Bizkit lead Fred Durst to perform it - a good decision, as it would become one of the bands leading hits.

It’s raw, emotional, heavy on the heart, and it will take you back to a place you know well, but didn’t expect to be back in. Watch videos of staind performing it, Aaron Lewis cries. It’s heavy as.

Songs always have impact, some more than others. Let me tell you, this one is so impactful. Played it 13 times this week, and it shows.

Maybe soon, I’ll put a video of me playing it on the guitar for you on substack - who knows!

Give it a listen.

This weeks takeaways

Probably just to remember that, if you really put the work in, it will all work out. “half ass” it, and you won’t read the reward.

Find balance between needing something, and working hard for it. Don’t work too hard if you don’t need it, or really want it. At the same time, you can’t need or want something that much if you aren’t willing to work your arse off for it.

Sure, maybe you feel your situation isn’t special sometimes, but it really is. The clothes you wear? Earned. The job you keep? Earned. House you rent? Earned.

Be proud of yourself, try not to be too hard on yourself, but for the love of god do not forget your potential — work for it, don’t accept under your standards.

Love,

Jamie

At the time of writing, I believe - may be wrong - but it is the hottest day of the year. Around 32-33 degrees celsius, which means one thing: time to sit in a cool, air-conned café and write about what happened this week — let me say, there is some ground to cover!

Despite the title, I can assure you the song of the week is absolutely not a Madonna song, in fact I haven’t listened to a single Madonna song this week now I think about it. So don’t be thinking you’ve got a head start! It’s a bloody metaphor.

This week has offered me the clarity I needed; coming off of that spurt of anxiety last week, needing a bit of reassurance, well this week gave me it. The start of a new job, new friendships, the promise of more air soft, a decent showing at football, coffee’s - some with Dan too, the legend - another good podcast, the gym…the list goes on!

Definitely haven’t felt perfect all the time - I had a celebratory kebab last night, yuck - but this week has been a fine improvement. Still adjusting to being home and its many, many twists, turns and nuances.

The new job

I’m someone who likes to be asked questions. I enjoy the responsibility of answering to a question, a challenge, anything. The trust I feel when asked enthuses me. It’s why interviews don’t phase me, but on the other side I actually enjoy it. Some places in hospo (hospitality) just hit you with the plain old: “Experience? Nice. Have you been before? No worries. When can you start? Brilliant. We can offer you …. hours? Wicked.” It literally is that easy.

Hospitality is always crying out for workers in the summer, of course winter is where it becomes difficult, hard calls are made, people get cut, and most of us consider office jobs before then going: “fuck that!”

Maybe controversial, a 9-5 has its advantages: weekends off, evenings free, sometimes air con, all that kinda shit. But? For me, it lacks the character of hospo, or more so, the characters. Yes we work late sometimes, on the rare occasion we do a ‘9-5’, but it rewards. The friendships, banter - most of which we would probably fired for elsewhere - the culture, deals between bar & kitchen, opportunities, I believe it is an absolute MUST when it comes to career experience. No matter what I do in my life, and the dream is still to work in football, if not Sports as a whole, I will always put it down to Hospitality for many of my great characteristics - one of them: being able to deal with people, more so, to be frank, the dickheads.

Anyway, back to interviews. Love a good tangent I do. This interview wasn’t basic - shoutout to Hal, he was great. Asked good questions, and we actually had a good chat. I love when that happens. I’ll never forget the excitement of interviewing for sales & Cabana - two different outcomes - but the interviews were great. Cabana was more of a “when can you start” kind of situation, but it was nice. There’s this stigma about interviews, the over-wishing of good luck from friends, the panic. I don’t feel it. I’m no Jose Mourinho, I wish I was that confident, but I don’t panic in interview situations. One thing I always think is - if my chances weren’t good, why would they invite me? Even if they didn’t read my CV - and trust me, many don’t - you are still you. Your value upholds. Sit up straight, don’t figit, answer questions strongly & concisely and fucking back yourself. Maybe it’s why I enjoy podcasting - asking questions, directing conversation, getting answers, it’s fun.

And all this excitement was before the new job even started…!

Last night was my first shift, maybe it is why I’m a tad dark around the eyes. Worked a smaller shift, just a 6-11:30 which is pretty lightweight from previous bar work, BUT it is also the first shift so, I’m by no means getting comfortable.

It started interesting, quiet, then all of a sudden everything at once - some difficult customers, strange orders, running out of things, all while trying to look around and understand the layout, operation, all of it. Was an interesting start, but honestly, I’d rather be chucked into it than have to sit around and procrastinate.

I’ve probably served thousands of tables in my five years doing this job, but yesterday, serving a pizza was the most terrifying thing ever. I relied on my colleague for instruction, whereas really, and I soon learned, in this job intuition is your best mate. Use it, or you’ll fall behind. Soon enough, I looked back and was like: ‘Christ J, chill out man.’

It was a quiet shift, I mean, I served a few beers, made a couple cocktails, it wasn’t so bad. A good learning shift, matched with a quick close, and we were sweet. A celebratory kebab after work, I’m allowed once in a while. It was pretty shit, and my stomach has bared the brunt of that today. Certainly not fun, but lesson learned!

First shift in the bag, next one Wednesday night, straight after gardening….

Travel plans

I always get asked: “Jamie, will you go back to Australia? Are you going to travel again?” and think, shit, do you want me gone that bad? Book the ticket - I’m out!

People will give a million reasons why the UK isn’t liveable any more, but I do still love it. Proximity to so many awesome locations - Europe the main part of that. It’s very central. The climates a bit meh, other than this week, but all in all, it’s still home. I do love it. But that said, I am itching to see the world more, and do it all again. Australia, Sydney, yes please. I will go, it’s looking like next year now, just so I can save up and make a real trip of it - iron out the creases I faced before.

It’s no secret I love Mr Anthony Bourdain. His cool as fuck attitude just makes me envy his experience of the world - only until I realise his experience was much more than surface-level shit you seen on tele. Deep mind, too deep in many respects, god bless him.

South-east Asia was his favourite place, most prominent was that of Vietnam. His love for the place, sitting alone with local cuisine and a cold beer, I want just that. Also, I’d love to pull of a linen shirt and jeans quite as well as he can. That cool grandad traveller look, that appeals to me. It’s effortless, relaxed, cheaper, and authentic. It’s sick.

All the videos, the food ones and travel ones, it’s made me want to go. My plan is loose - but for a while I’ve sat on the idea of heading to Australia, having a couple weeks to work off that jet lag, dropping off my bags, and heading over to Asia for a few months. Maybe solo, maybe with a mate - I’m hoping to convince Dec, so pray for me that he’ll come along. That would be class.

In all honesty, this subtitle might be a bit of reassurance for myself so that I actually go and do it, but loosely, that is what I want to do.

My intention for Asia is to just explore. As for Australia? I want foundations, for growth, maybe a career, who actually knows. I want to coach too, that’s always been at the forefront of this year and beyond’s plans.

To the drawing board I go, I may need to save a few pennies…

Sit down and drink the fucking coffee

You ever sit there and think, what will I do today? Go grab a coffee. Love your mates? Yeahhh man, talk over coffee. Want to settle a dispute? Coffee.

Since Australia I’ve learned that just by sitting down and relaxing, stewing on thoughts, while also getting the odd bit of work done, listening to music etc. It goes so far. I feel better for having this time for myself. I feel better for the vibes of the cafe’s I enjoy - again, shoutout to Greenhood. And of course, the added benefit is Caffeine, but in all honesty, I can quite happily go without. It’s just a nice treat I may have once or twice a week - nowhere near as frequent as Australia! I blame Kier Starmer. Kidding…

Me and Dan - from the Making It? Podcast (shameless plug) - have had a couple coffees in the last week. In fact, he’ll be here in about half an hour for, you guessed it, another coffee. It’s nice to just sit and chat, sometimes get something off your chest that sits heavy, or even excites you. Literally every scenario where you speak to your mate is better when you’ve got a mug in your hand, and your coffee of choice. It’s all about the Oat Cappucino, man. I’ll rant & rave about it until you buy one. Do it.

I think as well, the creative freedom you feel in a cafe is so different to home. I live within the walls of my family business - I love it, everyones great, it’s a good setup, but it isn’t what I need all the time. When I want to write, being in an environment I’m in a lot doesn’t harbour the ‘creative juices’ I feel I need in those moments.

Do you get me? Maybe a cafe isn’t your place, but the underlying message is more about finding it. When you find your place, that’s when great shit happens. I’m going to enjoy this coffee, my second one of the day admittedly, and let’s see what me and Dan come up with. Our first coffee here, or one of, ended up being the start of our podcast!

The power of coffee, cafe’s and good mates.

What actually holds me back

This is an interesting one. What actually holds me back from doing shit I love, and why, as a 14-15yr old was I making bigger moves and taking more risks which put me here?

Well, anxiety plays a part. It isn’t an excuse, but as you get older, I suppose things become more real. The last couple years have taught me about trust, loss, isolation, all sorts. I’ve learned fairly quickly. I think frequent loss throughout my life has made me worry about time - the realisation of life’s fragility hit me more as I’ve gotten older.

But that big thing: Risk. It terrifies me, but excites me. I’ve been nervous to do YouTube, TikTok, all of it. State my opinion, anything.I’ve held back way more than I used to. My opinions are stronger, more informed, but oddly enough my desire or more so my confidence to showcase them has waned. I spoke to Dan about it this week - I feel that one big reason is the fear of not being taken seriously, maybe because I’m not a qualified specialist to talk. One thing that gave me solace was the idea that simply because we don’t have a paper qualification for something quite frankly means fuck all. Opinions are opinions; they are subjective, sometimes outlandish, sometimes incredible - the art in them is the freedom you have. Free speech, it’s wonderful.

I’ve long worried that should I say something others might deem ‘daft’, I’ll look stupid, and in tern - and this it is - my ego gets hurt. So, now the next part, putting that aside, and having a “fuck it” attitude.

This is my promise to you, and I suppose myself - I will make another youtube video this week, hop back on TikTok, and also - another plug - release my new blog (out now) which is purely football/sports. It’s called “The isolated press,'“ if you love football, want to keep up with my coaching, join me! Click this:

Maybe you feel the same now and again, if you do, let’s make that jump together. I just want to break through that wall of anxiety, and produce content again. The future is exciting, I just need to grab that shit by the horns, now.

Song of the week

Okay so, less serious note - although these are seriously talented - song of the week is BACK. Again, I need some curiosity here, I need you to persevere, give me a few minutes of your time, allow the song to mean something to you, grasp a feeling current or not, and take you to a new place.

This week, I can’t actually believe it, I think spotify may be wrong, but we have a TIE. A tie…wtf?! The two songs - completely different wavelengths:

“Free Spirit” - Drake, Rick Ross

“Stuck: - Limp Bizkit

Let’s start with Drake & Rick Ross’ song. It’s that classic “if I had a BMW I’d listen to this” song. It’s a vibe, gets you in game mode. Feeling good? It just emphasises that for me. Makes you feel that winners mindset for a few minutes. It’s modern, hip-hop, and older-school Drake. I do like it, perfect after work driving home song.

‘Stuck’ on the other hand? This is a gym-pump song. If you listened to this after work, maybe you’re insane…or love Limp Bizkit? Same shit. I love it too, join the club. I’ve been more prevalent in the gym this week, consistent, really proud of myself, and this song has - you walked into it - “stuck ;)” with me. It’s hardcore, nu-metal masterclass.

Both are great songs, so give them a listen: only six plays each this week for me, supposedly, but I’d argue there’s been more.

This weeks takeaways

Let’s keep it short, I’ve rambled a bit. I love writing this - if you made it this far, thank you!!

I would say this - it’s a quote that has followed me everywhere this week - “Iron sharpens Iron.” I was once watching Rick Rubin, you know, the famous producer - worked with Eminem, Kanye, and way more. He said something about if something pops up say three times or more, it’s a sign. Just look into it, listen, read, watch, whatever it is. Explore it.

The quote “Iron sharpes iron” just stuck with me. That idea greatness creates greatness, or the opposite, if you went down the truly philosophical route. Who you surround yourself determines what your outcome is, that’s what I take away from it.

Dan & Declan, they are iron that sharpens my iron - that’s how I see it. I appreciate them so much. My family, Iron to Iron.

Let it sit with you, and let me know what it means to you — comment option is below.

Have a great week,

Jamie

Leave a comment

I’m pleased to say my ‘experiment’ of trusting my gut worked out — it just so happens that by realising your worth, remembering your value, and holding out for something better for you logistically, physically, and so forth, that something will come along. As the saying goes, everything happens for a reason - in this case I absolutely believe it. In the case of my phone dying in the night, and making me late for work gardening however, I can’t say it works out quite that way.

In all honesty though, this week has been one of those weeks, if you know what I mean? Mornings where getting out of bed is a chore, going to the gym has been a push, seeing friends again, a push. Anxiety has eaten me up a little bit, so I’ve tried just about everything to chill me out. There is no formula to fixing anxiety, it is with us for life - the one comfort I take from it is remembering that regardless of what or who you worry about losing, or not appreciating your presence, you will always be you. What makes you special will always be within you - it is then a case of wether you want to showcase that, in most cases.

I’m still very much in that phase of “getting my shit together,” and sometimes forget how recent I’m home, just over 5 weeks now. It isn’t long. Now the fun part begins…

A new start, officially

Like I said, thankfully, I got a new job. It wasn’t quite straight-sailing as I expected when I was offered the job in the city, but then again, sometimes that is how it is supposed to be. I’d rather stumble, wait, and suffer the unemployment blues for a little bit — working as a gardener in between — than jumping into something that just isn’t for me, or worse, doesn’t value me. My long-term goals are not to work in a bar - as much as I do really enjoy it - so the idea of relentless training, strange contracts, and all the rest of it, it stinks of shit. Quite frankly, it is just not worth it.

Now I’ve managed to get myself a job at a local bar. Nice place, gets busy, just what I want to keep me occupied. Also, different to my family business. I’ve mentioned it to some of my friends and they say “but why work somewhere else when you could work at your family pub, and you live upstairs?” The problem for me is that stress emanates. If the pub is quiet, I don’t feel good - I worry. The stresses small businesses face are huge, and while I only feel a fraction of it, when you also live there, you need an escape. A new job offers just that, but not only that, they have five serving wells, superbly labelled cocktail sections, and a great beer lineup. As a bartender, does it get much better than that?

Ah, it all reminds me of Sydney. How I miss that beautiful, beautiful place.

Work at the end of the day is about that pay check at the end of the week, fortnight, month, you get the point. What I’ve come ot understand is though just how much it matters that you enjoy it. I don’t plan to stay forever, not even really longer than a year or so, so why waste that time somewhere that doesn’t give me that positive feeling?

I went for the interview around 12pm on Friday last week. Nice-ish day, me and Dan were going for coffee after, so it was all lining up nicely. Some questions, general chat, and a look around. Loved it. It was clean, organised, the staff seemed sound - of course, busy shifts are a real test, but I’ve had some challenging managers - or should I say, manager. I think I can handle it, so I tell myself. The manager asked if I wanted to make a cocktail, a little skills test, and so I did - Espresso Martini, a classic. One big thing about making cocktails that people forget is, just as much as people love the taste, it’s about how it looks. You need a nice looking glass. You need a well-placed garnish. You need it to taste nice. But really, people just want it to be full up, right to the brim of the glass, still maintaining the clean outside of the glass, and that classy look that is has always had. How you shake it determines the level of foam - half-ass the shake? I’ll let you see what the customer says. I like to count to seven, make sure the shaker is nice and cold, and pop it open — watch out though, white shirts and Espresso don’t mix, as I found out about 12 times! Expensive mistake. Fill the glass up, garnish it right, and serve with a smile. I did that, manager was happy, and with that, I drank it - not bad for lunchtime on a Friday.

Oh and also, quick one on the Espresso Martini: it was rumoured to be made for Kate Moss by legendary bartender Dick Bradsell. The reason? Supposedly, Kate Moss arrived at the bar and declared she wanted a drink that would, to quote, "wake me up and f*** me up,” and so Bradsell went to work. I don’t drink them often, if ever, but when I have, the quote works. Espresso and alcohol? Yikes. In for a good one.

Buzzing to be starting, Monday is the day - in truth, I miss the vibe and culture of Cabana. If this new job is anything like that, I’ll be over the moon.

Here’s to trusting your gut - it fucking works!

A heavy mental load

This part hasn’t been so fun. I’ve always been open about my various experiences with mental health. Several panic attacks at 16-17, not understanding my situation, burnouts from work, then experiencing depression and isolation early into my Australia trip. I’m no stranger to it. Neither are you probably - it’s important we reflect, remember the shit we’ve been through, and build each other up to get through what we might be going through now, or what may be on the horizon.

I’ve felt a bit empty for a while. Not working as much would usually mean more coffee and rest, but after reduced hours in Australia right at the end, and that carrying on into here, it takes its toll. Genuinely, the only difference is the level of alcohol I now drink - far, far lower. I’ve always grafted hard to get things I want. Whatever it may be, I earn it. I don’t mind sifting in shit to get what I want. I wil throw myself at a job and be 100% committed, no problem at all. But that in between period of not having a job, a commitment, something to be passionate about, it kills me. This week has really beared that down on me.

Getting the job has definitely cushioned the situation, made me a bit more comfy. But even with that, the anticipation, trying to control the situation before it exists, it freaks me out.

I’ve actually come to terms this week with the fact that I maybe do have a control problem. I admit this feeling a bit shitty, because maybe on the face of it you’ll read this, and think - “sounds like a dick?” I always try to be open on this blog, so I may as well put it out there. When I can’t control the time someone arrives, it annoys me - if they are late, it really gets to me. Maybe I’ve been on a good first date - in my eyes - in that situation I just want it to go my way. It doesn’t? I feel like a failure. Plans change, I hate it. Even booking holidays, I hate letting others do it - I want to know every detail. It isn’t healthy, but one thing I’m realising about my own battles with mental health is how my mentality towards control needs to change.

Situations will play out against you all the time in life, that is just it. Luck of the draw, fate, karma, whatever you want to call it. Win some, lose some, all that shit. I want to be better as a person and not feel the need to control things as much. Let things happen more naturally, not check up on shit, worry about relationships, all of it. It is a stress I bring on myself, and I’m desperate to stop.

That tight feeling you get in your chest right before an anxiety attack, I’ve had that a lot this past weekend. I’ve not eaten much. Out of nowhere too, I don’t know what triggered it, but I have to try and let it pass. I tend not to fight it now, rather see it through. Anxiety is going to get us here and there - buckle up, let it pass, and move.

I saw a post this week about feelings we get. It said that you actually only feel an emotion for the first 15-seconds of its conception in your mind, the rest of the time it sits with you is actually dependent on your resolve and resistance. At first I wasn’t sure, but earlier today - Wednesday - I maybe proved it to be correct. That tight feeling came along, all the while I’m shaping up a hedge, random to it's core, and all I did was acknowledge it, breath, and let the music play. After that, even after how this weekend and just before has made me feel, I felt so much better. Isn’t it strange, just letting it pass, remembering you will always be you regardless of who and what is there in your life, it does really help.

I’ve got absolutely no doubt this will happen again - in all honesty, I’m surprised it took this long. I’ve been riding on a high for absolutely ages. But with this, and experience I have, I learn more about me, how to deal with things, and how it shapes me into a better, stronger person.

Onwards…

Pink Floyd in a Forest is fucking healing

You know much I love “our Dan,” we do the podcast together, chat most days, he’s working downstairs right now. He’s a genuinely good person. Lucky to call him not only a friend, but one of my closest friends.

This week, or even the week before, we agreed we would do a fun day out. Maybe even just a couple hours. a couple ideas floated about, but eventually we decided on burgers in the forest we always go to - in fact where we also went on my 18th birthday. It’s a special place for us, and for Dan, he’s been going since he was younger — some of the stuff he sat on, used for whatever, even some old biking goggles, it’s all there. No one goes! It’s awesome.

A quick trip to co-op, some firelighters, beers, burgers, sauces, and all that jazz, all acquired. We drove to the Forest, maybe 20 minutes north of our hometown, and headed in. Dodging all the ivy, nettles and bramble, we got it. Even had to dodge some mega rabbit holes - catch your ankle in that, not only is your ankle fucked, but there are no trains back from Narnia - good luck!

The spot we visited just a couple years back sat there, untouched. The old office chair, a few tyres, and a laundry basket (bin), all still there. Incredible. I thought Dan brought one of those BBQ’s you easily light and cook with - but in true Dan style, absolutely not. We were making a fire. The caveman inside of me was absolutely stunned.

We dug a hole, found some old branches that fell from the trees above, some old birch logs too, and threw them in and around the hole. Placed the firelighters in different spots, placed some dry leaves in areas we needed it to spread, and got to work. We lit the first, no action. The second, something. The third, we’re up. Alright alright alright. We had a fire. Not only that, we found some metal, so sure enough the heat conducted from that was enough to A) Heat the pan B) Just conduct heat for the surrounding area - put your hand near that, it felt like you’d walked into Chernobyl. The fire was absolutely roaring - at one point, Dan had to remind me to calm down and not make the fire too big, or else we’d have a big problem on our hands. Being the responsible young men we are, we only added on a phew more, and hoped for the best - after all, worse comes to worse, we use some of our Staropramen cans to put it out, right?

Dan took the reign over cooking, and I - as I do - took over fire duty. Chuck some logs on, keep the fucker burning! Pan on, not even direct flame, and the oil was sizzling like crazy. Burgers on, a good five minutes, and some soft buns, and boom, Forest burgers. The icing on the cake? The music.

As far as I’m concerned, I’d take a Forest burger with some top-tier tuneage over some bullshit 24-course meal with those tiny excuses for a meal costing £100’s and some pretentious music. Sod all that. Give me a JBL speaker, some meat, bread, sauce, beers and someone who knows good music, and we're sweet. Pink Floyd in the Forest is still my favourite. Alice in Chains a close second. The complete quiet you hear without the music, and then flicking it on, feeling the wind, the heat from the fire, just the relaxation of being somewhere you now know you need to be more, that is special.

In that couple hours, we talked, laughed, enjoyed good music, tasted great food, sipped just the one beautiful beer that is Staropramen, and toasted to friendship. You might be reading this and thinking it sounds fun - well it is. Get off your arse, call up someone you love, and tell them to put the foot down and go outside.

That one moment with my best mate has not cured, but treated those anxieties I was facing. It still comes back, but the peace that night gave me, amazing,

Shoutout again to you Dan, I love you bro. Also shout out to Chris Williamson, Dan’s ultimate man crush. We may have gone a few days without a mention…

Song of the week

Okayyyyy where do we start then. This week has been absolutely saturated with Deftones & Slipknot. A bit of a change from the last few songs, right? Maybe you see metal music as “screamy shite,” well if you are one of those people, I have lost some respect for you. Metal represents an exertion of pain, heavy experience, loss. All of it. It’s an intense exertion, sure, but it almost pumps you up even when you feel like beating yourself up a bit.

“Headup,” is a sort of interesting name for the weeks best song, right? It’s an awesome mix of Deftones’ again, intense style, mixed with the perfect ensemble of instrument you can ask for. It’s heavy, but it doesn’t hurt your ears. Missed your morning coffee? Ask Siri to play “Headup by Deftones," or even, if you are really pushing the boat out, “Around the fur,” the album for which the song sits in. An all-timer, in my view.

Now according to spotify, I listened to 627 songs last week. I’ve actually felt my variety has lacked, but spotify says otherwise. In that, Deftones were my entire top three. Followed by Linkin Park and Rolling Stones. Interesting mix - Headup won with 15 plays.

Maybe it isn’t your thing, that’s okay!! But life is about experience. While this may sound like me being democratic, it isn’t - open your phone, and play the song, it is sick!

I feel pumped even just writing about it. Fuck yeah. Get it on.

Also, if your mum asks why there is a half-naked woman on your phone screen, just says its a Deftones album cover - works every time.

This weeks takeaways

Pretty short and simple - ride the wave.

Feelings come and go, but they do not last. Maybe some longer than others - 99% of the time, it is because we simply give so much energy to them. Easier said than done, sure, but try your best to get past that 15 seconds. Get past it, smile, and remember, you’re the fucking business.

Go and make this week a good one. The next time we speak I’ll be moaning that I either need a new pair of shoes for work, I’m stained from cocktail mix, or some silly old man called me a twat on my first day. Calling it now - anyone hedging bets?

Anyway, stay grateful, have a brilliant week, and if you enjoy my work, click the little heart, and subscribe - costs nothing, but two seconds of your time!

Love,

Jamie

I’m officially back from a beautiful time away with my mum, and firmly back into ‘the thick of it,’ of life being back at home. Work, we will get onto, hobbies, another we will not miss out on hearing about, and family. It’s all coming together, and honestly, I feel great.

On a side note - UK weather. I’ve always said how much of an English thing it is to moan about the weather. But why is it that every time you leave the house thinking it’s cold, you have warm clothes on, and it ends up being sweltering? And vica versa. I’m sure the weather gods are working against us - my decision to wear Jeans & a jumper today went down like a sack of shit. The air-conditioned Café where I come to write my blog is a bloody life saver - shout out to the legends at Greenhood coffee.

Also on another very short note - how on earth are we six months into the year? That’s mental.

Anyway…

Getting into good habits

Ever since being home, I’ve had this looming sense of anxiety floating above my head - I’m a bit of a worrier anyway, I stress a fair bit, and honestly it only makes my problems worse. Insecurities, potential events, all sorts - I worry. Everyone worries about money, the downsides of not being able to save or enjoy it, and so on. Sure, I live with my parents, but I don’t want to be dependent on their support to keep me happy and thriving — I want to earn, graft, and enjoy the product/s of my hard work.

That anxiety just sits with me. In quiet moments my mind often jumps to scenarios - having a clear head is just not that common for me. Maybe that is why literally doing nothing but sitting and reading for two hours at a beach, or on the straw sofa outside of our room in Majorca was so good for me.

However, I’m once again discovering the importance of hobbies. The act of doing something you love, enjoying it, stimulating all the right things in your body, and in fairness, the hobbies I do keep me very fit. This week, I added Airsofting to my hobbies list. I would say the top ones for me now are: football, pool, airsoft - in that order.

I may aswell discuss Airsoft, because at Football this week, my side got absolutely tonked - and yes, I did have a ‘mardy,’ (tantrum, for my non-English friends) about that. The competitive mind I have really makes it difficult to sleep after a loss like that.

Air soft then. Shooting eachother with small BB pellets in a Close Quarter Battleground (CQB) in various matched. Team Deathmatch, Domination, “Briefcase wanker” (yes it was called that), Stuck in the mud, Infection, etc. It was wicked. I think for the first 5 minutes, as soon as pellets started flying, and you heard an Eastern European teammate shout “Suka blyat,” I was terrified. I’m not scared to admit that in that moment, I was willing to - and tried - everything I could to get out of playing. I’ve done paintball, now that hurts - but the uncertainty of the pain of a BB pellet is what got me.

In the end, I went out, the first time getting shot was a lovely blast to the right shoulder. Nothing crazy, but that is what switched my anxiety into adrenaline; the fun started. We played from around 10am-5pm. Obviously breaks in between. Christ, by the end of the day, I was knackered. I’m a bit of a worrier when it comes to anything involving pain, but after the first feeling of it, I tend to just say “grow up Jay” and I’m fine. I’ve got several tattoos, had interesting medical experiences lets say, a small pellet hitting me is not all that bad. I suppose the aim is just to hit others as much as you can, and do your best to avoid getting hit yourself.

The worst shot, funnily enough, was from a teammate. The reality of close quarter combat is that teammates are likely to shoot you - we all do it, especially as we are new. We soon learned to shout “GREEN” or “RED” depending on the team - but I got caught a couple of times. The funniest and most painful? I came round the corner, and my mate freaked out and absolutely blasted me. Must’ve hit me three times, all below my vest, around my lower chest/v-line area. Fuck that hurt. Little blood seeped out - that tells you how close he was. Maybe 1.5/2 metres away? Hurt like a bastard, let me tell you.

We packed up, and the adrenaline wore off. All that said, you know the feeling when you discover a new love? That was it. In fairness the night before, anxiety seeped in, and I was trying anything to cancel. Dec said, along the lines of: “Ah alright. Anyways, pick you up 8:30 - see you in the morning bro.” We need mates like this. Mates who don’t take your bullshit, and in a way force you into doing something they know you’ll love. Trying new things. I avoided it for ages - over a year actually - and Dec got his way. Boy was he right. Fair play, mate.

Now I look back, and maybe he won’t read this, but I hope he does, but the football, weekly pool sessions, now potentially airsoft here and there - that’s all from him. Sure, I’d maybe enjoy these things, but I wouldn’t do it half as much. So good to reflect on peoples impacts - his on me has been huge. Get yourselves a mate like Dec, if you’re ever lucky enough. Love you bro.

The hobbies, keeping my mind busy, being nervous but overcoming the irrational fears - it is genuinely so good to me. Every now and again I’ll be doing something and go, ugh, I could leave now, stop now, I’ve done enough, or maybe I’m scared to proceed. Sometimes it’s better to run into a wave of BB pellets than sit worrying about getting hit. The same can be said for life - why worry getting wet if your dream was to get to the other side of the river? (Metaphorically). We have to do what makes us uncomfortable to see how much we can achieve.

It’s a small mental win. Me vs me. It’s insignificant really, maybe you’re sitting reading and not thinking much of it - which is fair - but just telling yourself to go out and do something, even when you’re scared, or odds are in your favour, that’s a win when you action on that. Maybe life is like air soft - even if you get hit, you just go again. You could sit in spawn and wait for the game to end, or just enjoy it? We all end up in the same place anyway. Make of that metaphor what you will…

That’s enough metaphorical chat for one section, I reckon. Long story short, air soft is mint. Go do it.

Look at us in our gear below…not quite Seal Team six.

[DISCLAIMER - AIR SOFT RIFLES FEATURED. LICENSED AND USED IN SUCH PREMISES SUITABLE ONLY FOR AIR SOFT]

Acting on my gut

This is probably the big story for this week - and in a way, it’s a strange one. Maybe you recall my first ever blog: “I just lost my job,” well, this is sort of a similar story. The difference? I just turned down a job, after accepting. Odd, right? And that’s what brings me to talk about the U-Turn, acting on gut instincts, and so forth.

First of all - I’m very much like my dad in this respect - but small things erk me. A big one is punctuality - I don’t mind lateness if it’s communicated. But if we agree on a time, be there on time, please. Another is basic manners. Doors being held open, greetings, all that - I’m like an old man, but I think my grandma, mum, etc raised me right on those principles.

I was offered a job a couple of weeks ago at a busy bar in my city - I won’t say which one - but their vibe is awesome. Busy, cocktails, all that stuff. It looked cool. Interview went well, I liked the vibe. But I went for a look around, and first of all, the time to meet was changed from 4pm to 7pm - all on the day. I’m waiting around for a, maybe, ten minute chat? General onboarding all that stuff. When I arrive, the people are just sitting talking while I’m sat waiting for a chat. People talking across you is just the worst. In all honesty, from that moment I lost a bit of interest. Then looking around, seeing the training needed, lack of shifts for the first few months, it just concerned me. I’m a grafter, I’ll work any job to make sure I’m looked after and have what I need, no worries. Big hours, late shifts, no bother. But all the training, regs, and all the rest of it - I don’t want to be there for life, nor fall into the trap of being comfortable in a job that isn’t my passion. In a way, I felt my view on things just wasn’t suitable for that role - so maybe we both win with me saying no.

Late shifts are fine, but getting home looked a mess, prices of taxiing home a few times a week, is it even worth it? And as much as I hate to talk down on the place I live, how appealing is a late-night walk home in Nottingham City centre? Not very, in my view. As someone who has been dragged into a chicken shop after a night out, and relentlessly threatened, accused of anything they could think of to justify beating me up, I know why that anxiety exists. That moment played a role for me too - albeit a couple years ago, it does sit with me. I was lucky a friend helped me, but without her, god knows what would have happened. The UK, unfortunately, just isn’t as safe as it used to be — working late nights in my city, on second-thoughts, just isn’t what I need. Nor do I need that added anxiety.

The pay was supposedly good, but lower hours, and the idea I didn’t know when I’d finally pickup more shifts, it was all just too many questions. Plus, I couldn’t coach football Saturday’s & Sunday’s as I’d be getting home around 4/5am. If I have to sacrifice earning for a bit to secure my place doing things I want in the long-term, so be it.

I did in many respects fear confrontation before Australia - I feared the idea of saying ‘no’ to people. One thing I got taught in sales however is that you owe nobody ANYTHING. Sure, leaving before you start probably doesn’t help their paperwork, but I owe them nothing. You are the decider of your fate ultimately - it’s about not giving people the power over your decisions, when possible. I’m in a fortunate position to live at home, so I do have more power over my need for a job, I can afford to pick and choose a bit more. But with that said, I still believe in that idea of being confident in your decision making - i’ll always consult my parents for advice, but I have to believe in myself more. My decision-making brain is sculpted by experience - it is always learning, but I have experience. I have to trust that with everything - jobs, relationships, friendships, money, all sorts.

In a way, this job situation - I think - was a ‘litmus test’ for my resolve when it comes to deciding wether acting on my gut is the right call or not. Sure, time will tell, maybe I’ll regret it, I doubt that, but this is the gamble we take when we make decisions. But imagine you worried about the permutations that could occur when you make a decision - we’d never fucking do anything!

Trust yourself - it’ll work out. Now, I need to find something new. I hold the cards after all. It’s never, ever a straight road - but don’t give up. Ever.

Family time

I spoke about it last week, the importance of family - in particular when it comes to my dad, and again this week, I feel like our relationship has taken another stride in a good direction.

Friday night was a bit of a crazy one. I had that look around for that new job I was offered, and after - given I’d waited around and travelled to town - I thought I’d call Dec, see if he’s up for a game of pool. As luck has it, he was free, so after being at the bar, I hopped to Riley’s. Me, him and his girlfriend all enjoyed an hour of pool, for once I actually had a cracking session, equal on games to Dec. I could sense that this wasn’t going to be the end of the night. It’s 9pm, in town, sun going down, and Dec say’s: “Sorry mate, we’re kidnapping you - let’s have a Chinese.”

Me, expecting to go home, was at first unsure, but Chinese? A proper English Chinese? One of those Chinese’ where you sit in, old bamboo coloured wall tiles, hearing the presumably Mandarin natter in the back, waiting for - in my case - that gorgeous Sweet’n’Sour Cantonese style chicken. It’s just perfect. Pineapple was made for hot food - Cantonese chicken dishes like that only further prove the point, if Hawaiian pizza’s didn’t already.

Well, I left Dec’s house gone 12:30am - Southern Comfort & Dr Pepper, paired with a Chinese makes for a mean combination. Dec dropped me home, and that’s when I saw a text from my dad - “Fancy a walk around Matlock tomorrow, me, your sister and the nieces?” I was so unsure I’d make the 8am wake up, but somehow managed it. And with that came the best day out.

Dad picked me up early and we drove for an hour up to the Derybshire countryside. Talked everything: football, life, work, countryside views, all sorts. That’s when we stumbled upon a small little breakfast shack, perched up by the road side. An older lady, who wasn’t stingy with her portions - two cobs for £9. Not bad. We sat and ate them admiring the views - is there really anything better than the British countryside? That fresh air, light drizzly rain, rustling of the trees. I’ve loved most places I’ve been, and yearn to return, but the English countryside is truly special.

My sister joined us eventually - a bit late, but that’s the reality of having two excitable young kids. One of the things I’m most grateful for is being an uncle, even luckier to be one twice over. It’s always been my dream to be a dad - I suppose being an uncle gives you a glimpse of that.

We all sat, talked, ate and drank coffee - as a family. For various reasons, seeing all three of me, my dad and sister together has been rare over the years. It feels nice now, even if it is late on and was a long wait, that we can all have this time together.

Just sitting and taking it all in that my relationship with my dad is as good as it is, and even better my Sister’s relationship with him is where it is, all brings me so much happiness.

I can’t stress enough how important family time is. Pickup your phone, or get off your arse and walk to someones house who you love. Do us a favour, and tell them you love them. Make their day.

Finally doing it, no backing out

I’ve said it to my mates for so long that i’d return to the gym. I’ll probably reel off a million excuses too, but the reality is, I’ve not been back because I haven’t challenged myself enough. Held myself to account. Going to the gym, especially given my desire to be a bit more toned, and have more body confidence, is a necessity.

With all that said, and having started back on my membership last week before holiday, I started again. No turning back this time. No ego-lifting, just going heavy to say I’ve done it, but wanting to achieve consistency. With consistency, then I can move for more things - products, etc, you know, embracing the ‘lifestyle’ aspect. I just want to stay active, be consistent in the gym (3-4 times a week) and eat well. Hit my 120g of protein every day, make sure I build up some growth.

My long-term WHY for going to the gym is long-established. I’ve always had comments about being ‘skinny,’ and while mostly that is complimentary - or at least intended to be - it’s not my ideal look. I’m happy by the way, I’m fit, healthy, eat well, try not to drink so much, but I’d be happier being all this, but a bit bigger. People say they go to the gym for themselves, and while I’m sure that is the case for a few, we all want to look better, and usually it is for the sake of others opinions. I do care about that, it’s something I resent, but it is a reality. We all want to be a more attractive version of ourselves - however that may be - in order for us to attract more of what we’d like, and love.

There is a personal aspect to it though. The feeling of achievement, and having a physical reminder of progress, that is rewarding - I want to experience that. I want to experience looking in the mirror, being larger and reflecting on the thoughts I get now. I will achieve it, I know it. Maybe fourth time lucky…

Today’s blog really does feel like a diary entry. At least you can’t say I don’t open up!

Song of the week

If you don’t rate Radiohead, there is an unfortunate reality that you now need to understand: I don’t rate you.

People sometimes hear fairly solemn music - a slight understatement for Radiohead to be fair - and think, this is just sad. It isn’t though, it isn’t ‘just sad’ it just has depth. Depth does not equal sadness. Depth equals meaning, relatability, emotion, passion. That’s what radiohead is. It works for every situation - but you know, those late nights drinking Red with Bella back in Australia, often after a shift, with Radiohead on. Nobody said a word till the song finished. We just acknowledged how good they are. It’s raw, beautiful emotion in a melody.

I don’t want to reel off on a tangent about how good they are, so here is the song of the week (link below) - it’s called ‘India Rubber’. Thanks to Spotify stats, I can see it is #2 in my listens this week. Only beaten by “My Sweet Lord,” but for two reasons I can’t put it: One, it was on last week. Two, I was using the song as a reference to learn it on the guitar, so not entirely fair.

I won’t even give you a description of ‘India Rubber’. Just have a listen, and let me know what you think — if you click the comment box, you can actually tell me! (Below)

Leave a comment

This weeks takeaways

Go and do some cool shit even if you aren’t sure if it is a good idea. Go and meet that person you’ve been longing to see. Go and try that restaurant you’ve been stalking on fucking TikTok for ages. Just go and do something this week you won’t forget, and may come to love.

Remember what I said about air soft. It’s all true. Better to have BB pellets raining down on you than regret never entering the battle. We’ve all been given an opportunity to have a go, so why waste it.

Thank your friends for their sometimes-not-so subtle pushes to do things that you will come to enjoy. Be grateful for their presence.

Finally, be confident - you hold the cards with all your decision making. Puff your chest out, still remain humble, and go and own whatever you do this week, and every week going forward.

Have the best week - I look forward to hearing from you!

Thanks,

Jamie

This week has been pretty much action packed from start to finish. Physically, mentally, the ‘whole hog,’ so the saying goes. In my words? Completely fucked. So much to think about and do — a necessary evil when it comes to coming home after an entire calendar year away almost. Re-organising my life, working, preparing for a holiday, seeing mates. Trying to fit it all in has been a bit of a challenge; then again, who doesn’t like one of those…?

At the start of the week, it was just work, and then a brief stint being sick - which I’ll talk about in a bit more depth later on. Not ideal, I felt like this was my first week of real consistency. I knew my schedule, and all its intricacies, now it was just executing them that was to be done.

Hurdles man. They got me this week. But, can’t keep a good man down, despite all of that, things are being ‘actioned,’ I managed to get on my holiday, a new book is being read, and all the rest of it.

It really has been a week of pretty much every emotion humanly possible. For the better, for the worst. Where do I even start…

Getting sick is SO shit

I try, as best as I can, to keep my poor language to a minimum. Anyone who knows me, knows I love a good swear — for which I plead that the reason is simple emphasis. You know, to get a point across. In a way, my swearing is like Doc Cotton’s smoking - “80 a day, good for the soul.” It’s not an addiction, or unhealthy, what I’d suggest is that it gets steam off of my chest when it matters most.

Tuesday night, I’ve been out - for a job interview - and afterwards a quick spot of pool with Dec, bit of a friendly tradition between us, it finished 4-4 in games, and after that home to relax. Just as I’m chilling, I can’t help but feel an overwhelming heaviness in my head. Thumping headache, my throat seized up, sore. Then a general fatigue came over me. Next thing, I’m sweating in bed at 3am desperate to sleep. The illness mixed with a horrid illness completely surrendered me to it. 6am, my wake up for work, and I’m calling in sick - no gardening for me today. Lately I’ve been working two jobs, so the pub took a miss too.

If there was ever a day calling out for me to rest, reset and relax, it was then. Didn’t get out of bed until 3pm Wednesday, and spent the rest of the day completely lazed. No effort for anything - in other terms, I was buggered!

Nothing quite prepares you to just be laid there, thinking about what your missing out on, the money you’re missing, things you need to pay for and now have to hustle a little harder for, events missed, summer beers ‘un drank,’ and in my head, the worst possible scenario: missing Thursday night football.

Now, I’ve mentioned it a lot, but this football match on a Thursday, it isn’t just some shitty 9-a-side boys club where you piss about. No no. This is - at least in my oddly competitive brain - is the UCL final. It felt like on Thursday Enrique v Arteta - for non-football fans, the epitome of watching a great attacking team, versus a team that sits and defends. Our side Enrique, opposition Arteta. The problem? Arteta’s won 3-0. And that absolutely ruined me.

From a pride perspective, I’d almost rather chickened out Ill and missed the battering, as opposed to going through that pain. But that’s football. Win some, lose some - but god, that was horrible. No goals in a 9-a-side is pretty tragic. Again, maybe those nightmare’s about missing it weren’t worth the panadol’s they were prevented by.

So I suppose getting sick is shit, it ruins your rhythm, but if it stops you getting battered on your weekly match…agh, maybe give it a think.

If any of the football lads are reading this, this never happened…

Lunching with my dad

Now this might just be routine for you. Maybe you’ve been lucky enough to have that rock solid bond throughout your life with your dad, and if so, god salute you. Sounds awesome. To be honest, as mentioned before, never perfect, but I’ve got it - so I’m grateful nonetheless.

I got a phone call from my step mum earlier in the week, my younger cousin was coming over to hers, so she wanted to go for lunch - me, her, the young cousin and my younger brother. Now taller than me, because it’s all he bangs on about. Anyway, lunch booked in, all we had to do was wait for my brother to finish his 1to1 football coaching session.

Friday comes around, and I’ve got a big day. Not only the lunch, but packing and leaving for the hotel before an early flight on Saturday morning. Action packed day, but the lunch was all I could think of.

Now initially, my dad had things on, so I didn’t think he’d be coming. Then comes Thursday, and my step mum mentions he’s coming now. I was going to go either way of course, I’ve not seen much of the brother, or my younger cousin for the best part of a year, if not more. Family time is important to me, especially after a hiatus as long as that, so I was never going to miss out. But with all that said, my dad coming did sweeten the deal a bit. I love spending time with him, talking football, life, growing up, family history, all of it. He’s a talker like me - the more I grow up, the more I come to terms with, and enjoy, our many similarities. One of them our love for shoes - but I will say, his love goes a bit beyond just admiring, I’d even say hes addicted to buying them. Wish I could afford to do that!

Met him at his house, then waited for the brother to do his football. Had to talk him into coming, or should I say, do the big brother thing and tell him: “you’re fucking coming!” Not quite a telling off, more a reminder that I’ve been away. To the younger people, and we’ve all been there, time isn’t really that big a thing. But as you get older, experience loss a bit more, and you miss someone’s presence - and I mean really miss it, like it hurts - you understand how much a simple lunch can mean in the long run. Even one good memory is worth the price you pay at the end of the meal.

Anyway, long story short he came. Not without a longer wait and a faff - true of his style. A quick bus into town, we headed to Yo-Sushi, all used to go in a fair bit when I was a little bit younger. I ate like a mad man, had the platter for two, alongside a few pieces of the “sushi train” that passes alongside your seats. Was so tasty. I’m a huge fan of sushi, and sashimi. To be honest, should I have enough money, I’d probably retire into a quiet life of eating small meals consisting of raw fish, seaweed and various sauces in some small Japanese town. One of those joints that knows your name, knows your a Westerner who learned the language and sacrificed his life at home for peace in Japan, knows his order, his beer, but yet never knows how he can afford it, or why he comes in so often. Sorry for the detour, it’s just how my brain works. Ref: one of my first blogs, and the sopranos cafe. Anywho…

It was just nice, you know. Sitting down with my dad, brother, cousin and step mum. We haven’t done it in ages, and in truth, I can’t recall the last time we went out on that side of the family together since we were younger. Doesn’t happen enough. It’s spurred the idea in my mind that we shouldn’t wait this long ever again.

Dinner finished, bill paid - thanks dad - and off we went into town. I was wary of the town, taxi to the hotel was coming around 4:30pm. Currently around 2:30 ish, we wondered for a bit. Dad got some new darts, buzzing with himself, and we sat outside after talking about the Fred Perry bags in the window. We spoke so much, eventually dad said “fuck it, let’s just go in.” Can tell I’m his son - absolutely my reaction too. We looked around, debated what shirts were best, my choice a tad more outlandish than the beautiful single-colour Grey cotton “shirt” he picked out. Was nice. The brother picked out, and bought, a beautiful all-white polo. He’s a braver man than me, wouldn’t catch me wearing all-white. Not when I’m paying £90 for a shirt.

I left, hugged all the family, and walked to the station with my dad and brother for the train home. A quick goodbye, and off I go on the train home from the city. I keep getting all these calls, my signal is awful cant pick up, well it turns out dad got me that outlandish shirt. Gorgeous too. I’ll attach a photo in the next blog, remind me.

It’s the sort of piece of clothing where - someone who knows me well - would comment: that’s so Jamie.

More memories. Can’t take a moment for granted with your closest and most loved. Love you dad.

I’m reading so much right now

Like I said before, this past week I’ve jetted off on holiday again. Majorca the destination; gorgeous Cala D’or - just south-east of Palma, the main hub of the Island, and where we flew into. The journey was easy enough - you get used to it after 30+ hour trips from Australia and back. A couple hours at East Midlands airport - rare to fly from these days - and then a just under two and a half hour flight to the island. No turbulence, an early arrival, I even sneaked in an hour of sleep.

Before all this though, I headed into WHSmith, if it’s even called that now, and I needed a book. My previous book, I left on the plane from China to London alongside an expensive rain jacket. Twat. Was furious. But here we are, I needed something new just for the holiday. I pondered on if one was enough, but saw a buy two get one half price and thought, yeah, that’ll do. Matthew McCoughnahey’s “Greenlights,” and Tim Marshall’s “the power of Georgraphy.”

The first, a sort of autobiography. At the same time, almost a book of principles through stories. Yes, alright, it’s a bloody autobiography, but it didn’t have the same feel as a typical one. All about McCoughnahey’s life (if I spelt that right), his journeys across the world - including a stint in Australia, in an uneasy first household (can relate), as well as diving into an acting career. His outlook on things is really interesting; it’s opened my eyes on topics such as confidence, “owning your situation,” and just in general being a badass like him. He’s cool as shit.

As for the Power of Geography, the book - from the blurb - describes and explores modern geography, geopolitics and the importance of “middle-nations” in a world dominated by the likes of the USA & China. Essentially, “how does the future look? Here’s an idea,” that kind of thing. Anyone who really knows me knows I’m not really a fiction fan, maybe I’m boring, but I love a non-fiction book. Something where I can take something real away from it. Can’t get along with stories that are - at least to some extent - not based on a real story, or with real world attribution. Never been my thing, I think because we were forced to read books in school. One thing my English teachers had a go at me for was my lack of reading outside class - my reply was always that I didn’t enjoy the books we were told to read. Call it a poor excuse, but I’ve never enjoyed being told what is good for me and what isn’t when it comes to anything art or literature related - surely it’s subjective?

Anyways. I’ve finished Greenlights, 300-ish pages of his story. I won’t spoil it, and while I suppose you can’t exactly spoil and autobiography, there’s a joy to just reading it for the first time with no prompt or killing the enjoyment of discovering the various nuances in his life. Just read it and enjoy it. Genuinely, it’s opened my eyes like crazy. I knew it would good, Matthew McCoughnahey is a ridiculously talented creative. But this really shocked me, it’s a must read. I’ve never, in my entire life, finished a book - at least of that size - in two days. On the beach, by the pool, on the little straw sofa outside our room, wherever. I read it everywhere, it was awesome.

My favourite quote from it - something his dad left for him in his life - and one I always speak to my best mate Dan about: “don’t half-ass it!”

Great motto for life. Don’t half-ass it. Alright, alright, alright.

A really fascinating perspective. What a mind.

The whole book, and experience reading it, again as I mentioned opened my eyes, but also, more so, made me realise what I want. I don’t want to be good at things, football coaching etc, I NEED to be good at them. It’s my calling. I look at things I’m inspired by - why wait to act on that influence? Why not just use it to make something of myself? That book was a not-so subtle nudge toward something great. I can feel it.

Now onto the next book - something different, less on personal life, more on a general perspective of how the next generation of us will live. Interesting little read.

The flowers that keep hitting my face

I’m not the kind of guy to make a totally vague title to sound aesthetic. That shit annoys me. It’s like, why are you captioning your post “vogue,” when nothing relates to it? Boring. Maybe I care too much, probably.

I’ve been sat on this straw sofa outside my room, conjuring up the contents of this new blog, written on my phone as I left all extra devices at home - peak relaxation! As I’m reading just a couple days ago, wondering what to write, this flower hits me on the head. I couldn’t tell you what they are (I’ve attached a photo though), but they’re a gorgeous shade of pink. A nice slightly more rouge pink. And every now and again, given their frail stems, they fall off into the grass, the porch, or even better - my sweaty, burned forehead. I’ve had worse bookmarks!

This holiday has been much needed. Seems strange when you mention that to someone because, well, I have just spent a year in Australia. One of the holiday destinations most dream of. But was it a holiday? I mean yeah, in many ways. But I still worked, stressed, had shit moments, and with this all in hand, I had to move home and reorganise life again. I landed Thursday, back to work less than a week later. I think an extra week to adjust and I’d have been gold - but, that’s life.

Mum booked this trip a while back, and in truth I’d largely forgot about it until just before I got back. What a place though. Gorgeous weather, barely hear a peep of anything but my 70s rock’n’roll and the turning of pages. Perfect.

I’ve spoken about it in most blogs - I struggle to relax. Staying completely relaxed, just sitting reading, doing nothing, it’s almost unheard of for me. Not because I’m performative, or believe that every living second should be spent working, but rather because I genuinely struggle to focus, or worry that by not doing something every second, I’m falling behind. Irrational, and downright silly thoughts, but thoughts a lot of aspirational young people face. This trip though, bar the first day, I’ve found it. The key is literally just to sit, put some good music on, and take it in. Holiday with mum, who is usually very busy, as am I, and have been separated from for a year. Special, precious time to drink together, eat together, relax together, and just enjoy a relationship that has been completely online for the past year. I’m so grateful she took us away here.

We’ve visited most of the Cala’s along the coast of Cala D’or. Some small, some larger - all pretty busy, but absolutely gorgeous. Yesterday, as of the time of writing (Tuesday) we visited Cala Petita, a gorgeous, tiny Cala situated maybe a ten minute walk from our hotel, if that. We sat under the shade of a tree, relaxed, read, and dipped into the beautiful turquoise waters. Cold, but not cold enough the point you shriek - “fuck! That’s freezing!” More just a nice “oooh, that’ll do.” If you catch my drift?

My burns are pretty evident. Mum calls it “twat tan,” and I’m inclined to agree. Battle scars of an afternoon in the sun, even with my SPF applied, my fair skin is no match for the hot Spanish sun. The irritation trying to sleep was worth it though, that was probably my favourite day out that we’ve had yet. And to top it off, a nice cold beer by the pool, and later on some tapas at a local restaurant - ‘La Bodega’ - before heading to bed, and trying to sleep. Not an easy action when you’re this burned. Stupid me. I always get too confident in the sun.

I’ll finish up this story next week, for now, back to enjoying some sun - holidays not over yet!

Song of the week

Ooooh it’s a tough one. Something in the 70’s dimension I mentioned earlier. Huge focus on the Rollin’ stones this week - a favourite of mine and my mum. Sprinkles of Dire Straits, Jim Croce, Crosby’s, Stills & Nash, America, etc. can’t go wrong. Hot summers day, linen shirt, burning to shit - but some good tunes on, you really are winning.

Picking one song is rough as. It’s not about the amount of listens, more what I’ve enjoyed most. Even a bit of “baby come back,” by player has been enjoyed this week. Tough, tough, tough.

I’m going to go for Romeo & Juliet, Dire Straits. It’s a classic. Relaxed, smooth, not a short song - lots of time to digest it. A sort of medieval opening, and transitions into a perfect road trip song. There’s something about Dire Straits that just makes them the perfect band to listen to in a fucked up old 4x4, on a dirt track, window open, hand tapping the side of the rusted metal doors, hair flustering in your face. Sorry, mind goes to those places - got a decent enough imagination. Do you think the same when you listen??

Another one my mum loves too, which sweetens the deal a bit more. I’m not too bothered what the song means - and it should be fairly obvious by the title - but more what it means to me. It’s a source of relaxation.

So yeah, that’s the one this week. Link below, have a listen.

This weeks takeaways

Has to be relaxing. I’ve actually learned how to do it, and the fact that it is actually a fucking art. You cannot think logically without separating yourself from stress, ‘mental traffic’ and all the rest of life’s issues. You need to step back.

I’m super fortunate to be away, I have my mum to thank. Spending time with her has been, and still is, so incredible. I’m so lucky to have my mum - I couldn’t have even dreamed of a better mum than mine.

This time to just sit, read, I’ll even admit to enjoying and trying to tan more, all part of actually relaxing. I’ve had time to think, plan, convince myself to do things I’ve always wanted to do. All of it, all because of relaxing and enjoying the time away.

If I can pass on anything, it is the importance of relaxing. Still doing things, keeping yourself engaged, but ensuring the energy is well spent, and that your “battery” is recharged.

I hope you have the most amazing week - I’m going to the beach.

Love,

Jamie

The time, at the first part of writing this, is just gone 11pm (UK), and today has been a pretty big day. Work, in the heat, a few beers with friends, again, in the heat, and some rest time, at home - you guessed it, in the heat. In case you couldn’t tell, us Brits pray for this weather year-round, and when it finally arrives we mutter: “too bleddy hot, innit?”

It’s been a funny old day. Been in my thoughts a fair bit, you know, thinking about the trip, and how strange it still feels to be home - even as we approach the three-week mark since the plane landed at Gatwick. The heat, Staropramen, and few hours daze have probably just concocted a bit of an emotional rollercoaster to sit through - I suppose in the end that is why I blog. This isn’t a rant page, or a ‘tell it all,’ to be honest, I’m happy living fairly privately, but rather when things are on my mind, I say it. If you can take something from it, and apply it to a situation you’re in, class. If not, and you just enjoy a read, I suppose you’re just a legend then, aren’t you?

So anyway, those Instagram comments…

Trying to hack a routine

Okay wait there, before we do Instagram - question: do you struggle being out of a set routine? I don’t quite mean as extreme as, say, hour-by-hour organisation. More so, maybe daily exercise? Couple runs a week? Work on your passions? So on, so forth.

If you’re like me, change isn’t a problem, but the side-effects of it can be temporarily. I was ready for home, and am loving it, genuinely. The problem? Re-organising my life, work, events, and more. I need consistency in my life, and I have set myself some goals - right now it is all about, in my mind, working out my schedule, ensuring i’m hitting savings & ‘passion project’ goals, then seeing what’s left. By passion projects, I’m alluding to the Podcast (link below - shameless I know!), Football Coaching and to an extent, playing. I think there is a real balance to be found between Money Making & Life Living - of course, we can do both, but that is where the balance is found. We’d all love a bit of wealth, security, to be able to afford not to worry - that is a goal of mine - but before I hit that, I would like to make sure first of all that, well, I’m happy. I want to do things I enjoy, and spend time wisely - most important for me.

To achieve all these things I aspire to achieve, I therefore need that routine. I’ve made a couple small ones - daily & weekly. So far, bar the press-ups daily which admittedly I have slacked on lately, I’ve been pretty good. That being said, I know I can do even better. So much so, after writing this paragraph, I’ll be in bed reading a book before I sleep - I can be good sometimes!

I’ll probably bore on about routines every week for now, until whenever I decide to stop, maybe never, who knows?

Why the comments matter, this time

Usually, in most cases, I tend to not care much for comments under social media posts. Instagram is slightly different as it’s a private account, I select who sees, and likely comments. In other cases, such as when I post on Twitter (X) regarding football endeavours, the comments tend to be an extreme of something. Support, or just downright insult. You have to appreciate both; on the face of it that sounds strange, but by it I mean: Be grateful for the good, be thankful for the bad. Why thankful? Because someone took *their* time and *their* energy to comment something not kind. Just a general rant their, sorry.

Back to Instagram, someone told me lately that I have a nice “aesthetic.” Honestly not a comment I expected, as when it comes to Instagram posting, i’m fairly careless. I always try to keep it as real as possible, sprinkle some football & cooking into their, and you’re sweet. Some of my friends really ponder over it, I mean REALLY go into depth - to be fair to them, their posts are pretty cool. At the end of the day though, it literally just is a selection - often 20 in my case - of photos on a screen. It can’t tell all the stories I want to tell; somewhat frustrating, and probably the reason I didn’t post for two weeks. That and, to be honest, I may have forgot. I don’t post often, and I’d sort’ve come to terms with leaving - the post really put me in an emotional state.

Photos of sunbathing, a heavy theme of friendship, general Sydney views; sorry, I sound like a twat analysing my own post, but just for general conetxt - voilor!

Anyways, the comments. Why do they matter? Well I read them, it was a mix of people I’ve known for a while, then on the flip side people I’d met over the past seven or so months. Imagine that, I didn’t even know a good amount of those people seven/eight months ago. This is what I mean about the comments. My first Australia posts sort of masked how I felt: lonely, struggling, and all the rest of it. Declan was pretty much my only mate. Then, all those months later, Dec goes, I start a new job, find new places to live, and all of a sudden I have friends, a real support system out there. Friends for life. People who all those months ago would never ever have commented - they didn’t even know of my existence, and vica versa. Isn’t that special?

I feel like we often forget the fact that some people we treasure, adore, and in some ways feel we cannot live without were not in our lives at one point. In my case, I look back now and think what I would have done to have them there. That is the relationship I now have with them. Those pictures represented just a small, minuscule fraction of the memories I made with them, chats I had, and so forth. I never really sit back and think about what an Instagram post represents, but this latest one taught me something - how strapping in, and just letting life do its thing, while simultaneously striving for better things yourself, leads to instances like this. Maybe I just got lucky with my friends, but regardless, I take nothing for granted. Everyone I met on that journey, everyone who impacted me, I love you.

Fair to say, after posting, for the rest of the night I was in the biggest “thinking state” ever. Thinking about the trip, reminiscing old photos and memories on my photos gallery. No way will I not go back, not possible. The place is awesome. But how comforting it is to know it all worked out, maybe not the way I imagined, but in some respects that is the best way - I learned and grew so much. Worth it.

That was my ‘instagram comments realisation.’

What do I want from work?

It’s a big talking point for me, in my head that is. I’m a thinker, and often times I overthink - a big one is what I want from my future. I don’t give up, so whatever I choose, I know will get my 100% effort and passion. The question is, what do I choose?

I currently work two jobs, gardening & kitchen/bar work. I love them both, they offer me something different, different environments, conditions. It’s fun. But that being said, working two jobs, while not a problem for me, isn’t ideal. I want to return to football coaching, I need a structured week so that I can fit that in - the reality is, will having two jobs offer me that flexibility? Right now, I’m doubting it.

I’ve only been home for what, just under three weeks? Work was always going to be a concern, I suppose maybe I’m thinking too far into the future too in some respects. Right now I should just worry about getting myself on my feet again, starting to save, enjoying a trip to Spain with my mum starting Friday, and just relaxing. However, with how my mind works, I drag myself into a hole of thinking about my life five or more years on from now - why I do it? God knows. I’m ambitious and want things from my life, but often give myself no chance to reflect & relax. I’m for certain too hard on myself which leads to procrastination, and in some ways I neglect my own mental health. I’m sort of saying all this for reassurance to be honest.

I want to do well in my media endeavours, really hone in on my craft, get better at content production, promotion, and more. I want to smash it, and become successful. Nothing is stopping me, but what slows me down is the idea that I’m never doing enough - it kills my confidence. So, a lesson i’m learning is the art of relaxation, reflection and backing myself. I’m far more confident than how I was when I left for Australia, but I still eat away at myself too often.

At this age, it’s pretty normal to stress about careers. It’s rammed down our throats about what we should and shouldn’t do, the new ever-changing careers landscape, LinkedIn, and so on. What we aren’t told enough is to do something we enjoy, strategise, back ourselves, and make sure we are happy. A sad, stressed mind won’t lead any of us to something good.

Keen to know your thoughts, feel free to contact me and let me know — imbrokeinsydney@gmail.com

Back in my ‘happy’ place

I say happy, with the marks next to it, because in all honesty the place either has me chewing my nails down to stumps, jumping for joy, or feeling complete agony. Where is the place? You guessed it, the City Ground!

For those not affiliated with football, it’s the home of my local club, the club I love, Nottingham Forest FC. Home of almost twenty years of emotional rollercoasters. In more recent years, the place that kickstarted a career in sports broadcasting for me - somewhere I witnessed some of our clubs greatest triumphs since the days of Brian Clough, and on a personal level, met some of my idols. One of which being Martin Tyler at the back-end of last season. What an occasion, the blokes a childhood hero!

I finished work just before 3pm, and had to rush into some clothes. Shorts & a Forest shirt, yeah, that’ll do. Rushed myself in an Uber to the ground, and in the line I see an old mate from school & college - Will his name is. Smashing it in the navy these days, often up North. for work. Giving him a hug, meeting him randomly, made my day before we’d even walked in. Big shoutout to you mate, your dad and brother. Legends.

Headed in after that, had a quick pint with Declan’s dad, and off into the stand I went. I was somewhat frustrated, not at the performance, at least until the second half, but more because I’m so used to talking - commentating on the game - and now, for the sake of not looking insane, bar the odd chant, I had to stay quiet. Up in the Trent End, what a view - as someone trying to key up on coaching & analysis knowledge, it was the perfect view for me. Was only a 1-1, pretty dull performance, but last game of the season, the lap of appreciation from the players and a couple speeches, was a really lovely occasion.

As I go to leave, sweating like crazy from the mad heat, I hear: “JAY! JAY! JAYYY! OVER HERE! LOOK!” I think, god, who’s that? I look over and there is Malcolm & Ali, two of my closest friends from football. The best. They had me over for a private BBQ before I left, they’ve always looked after me. Even saw Dore there - top Forest fan, and friend. Love them. A nice night catching up - feels so good to be back.

You Reds!

Song of the week

So I’ve been debating wether to do this for ages, to be honest. Song of the week! Nothing revolutionary, okay sure, but I’m here to drop my favourite song from the week, maybe inspire your playlist with some of my musical wisdom…

Yuck. Sounded like a right dickhead, but point stands, you might like this one:

It’s honestly a tune. Now I don’t know how keen you are on a ‘rough around the edges’ sort of view on music, the joy for demo’s, instrumentals, live performances, but I love them. Man City funnily enough played another of my favourites this week - Noel Gallagher’s acousting version of ‘Live Forever,’ for Pep Guardiola’s last match. All to summarise his memories at the club. The grittiness of guitar strings, and how much Noel Gallagher suits that style of acoustic covers makes it a real, real tune.

Anyways, George Harrison, he’s the best ‘beatle’ for a start. John, Paul, etc, all very good in their own respects, but George Harrison is a genius. Consistency better than the rest. Masterful on the guitar, I just love his temperament. Back it all up with a brilliant voice, it’s incredible.

My musical journey started aged 15, eventually age 16 having my own radio show at Queen’s Medical Centre, Nottingham, a Monday morning show before sixth-form. Since then, my music has evolved, Spotify playlist jumped to almost 3,000 songs, and so on. In that time I discovered real 70’s music, and more recently - while in Australia - 70’s rock’n’roll and the music on the outskirts of that. George Harrison, Rolling Stones, America, George Martin, all that kind of stuff. As I’d call it, perfect road trip music. Imagine you and your best mates, a couple cold beers, sitting next to a river, sunsetting, no stress. That is the genre.

For me, this song just symbolises being on the road, a journey, enjoying the heat. Straw hats and tartan shirts, a bit of a theme of that. Wearing jeans on a roasting hot day, American farmer style. Tell me I’m talking shit, or maybe just listen, and indulge in the feeling, and join the club.

Three and a half minutes of soothing song; if you need a relax with upbeat tones, this is for you. Give it a go, and let me know what you think.

Me and my nanny actually sat down earlier and listened to some music, some favourites of hers - ‘Wild Horses,’ by Rolling Stones probably a joint favourite. Moments like that make me realise how much music means to us as people, and to our relationships. That moment, I just loved it. We sang along to ‘American Pie,’ Don McClean, too. Eight and a half minutes we sat there singing. That’s made my day. Maybe it’s why I’m in such a good mood!

Who wants a music blog by the way?! That paragraph was fun to write.

This weeks takeaways

Probably the importance of taking a step back.

Do we give ourselves enough room to breathe, and just enjoy things? For myself, no. I learned to do it in Australia, and slipped back into old habits. I beat myself up too much, think I’m not doing enough, I just don’t think I’m often kind enough to myself in that respect. That’s something I can work on.

I need to become a ‘taker’ of my own medicine. I dish it out, advice on things, I help people a fair bit I’d say, but do I actually take on board my own advice enough? God no. That’s a real place I could improve - big time.

A big part of the reason I started this blog is to get things off my chest and be honest, even when it comes from a place of vulnerability. I have to confess how I feel, it is my rule. Not because your opinion on my feelings will change anything, more so because talking out, and exerting energy you need to exert is helpful. It calms me, makes me think about things in a different way, and opens me to other perspectives.

Another week being home, and things keep changing - so lucky to be spending it around people I love. I promise, the next few weeks are going to be very exciting, some good content for you, haha.

Have a great week, and don’t forget to listen to that song!

Thanks,

Jamie x

Being home really does open your eyes. We always - as Brits - moan about life here, don’t we? It’s never good enough, people say. The politics, the weather, the price of a pint, the cost to fill up Julie’s car down the road…whatever rubbish it is, it always has to be a moan. I fall for it too, by the way. But even with all its ills, the UK - home - is awesome. This week opened my eyes to the opportunities I have now I’m home, but also reminded me that, for as long as I choose to be here - and the world is my oyster - it’s a place to be that people dream of, and work hard to get to.

I can only remember hearing friends in Australia talk about how much they wanted to visit the UK, and Europe - of course only on our doorstep, a Ryan Air flight away - and think, wow. Aren’t we lucky? I suppose, it took me a week, and a walk around the Derbyshire countryside to realise how lucky we are to live here, the beautiful views you can see just a short drive out of your little town, and also the people you can share that time with.

Home is a source of inspiration, but also challenge. I suppose this week has been an almost perfect concoction of both.

Back to hobbies

For the best part of 8 months, i’ve felt a sort of void. Nothing major, I’ve been very happy - but there has been something missing. Since leaving the Gold Coast football scene, i’ve missed hobbies. Football was my hobby - to be honest, when in Byron Bay I pretty much thought my purpose was ice cream, coffee, football, and a cold beer at the end of the night. Now there is nothing wrong with that, but take away the long hours at football, and it doesn’t look to healthy does it?

Waking up on those Saturday mornings, 5am, grabbing a coffee in Tallebudgera, then having a training session, game, and heading to another pitch to repeat the same thing. That was life for a while. I miss the routine it gave me, the relationship I had with our coaches & the boys playing. It was good. When you’re having a bit of a shit time with your mental health, good people, routine, and a good hobby, it keeps you going. And sane.

Bar the odd football match at The Rocks, Sydney, with Dec, football pretty much has been on hold since September. I returned to coaching last week with Beeston FC, assisting in a nice 3-0 cup final win. But that’s the closest I’ve been. As for playing consistently, as I used to do so every Thursday, it’s been over 11.5 months. How mad is that? In all truth, I knew I’d be back soon, but I had no idea how I’d play - what I did know is how much I missed playing. I needed a hobby again.

Football has, since the age of seven, been life. At first, it wasn’t really what I wanted - my dad made me play, and to fit in with others, that was sort of the way forward. I was never great, Dad put me in at Dunkirk, I had to play down a year, I was dreadful. Some of the boys I played alongside are pro’s now. Me? Hucknall on a Thursday night - but most importantly, I love my football, and I’m happy. Something I discovered when I left Dunkirk. Attenborough Colts, where I spent 12 or so years, introduced me to what football was all about for a lad of my lower quality - fun, friends, and doing what you can. My manager told me I had potential, and that inspired me. So much so, I kept playing until now. Isn’t it amazing how one persons words can shake off years of not enjoying the sport? So for me, football has been a turning point. Proof that if I try my best, I can make it work, and be better. After I turned 18, men’s football proved a bit much for me, fun dried up, then I found 5-a-side football, or usually 9-a-side because it’s popular, and from there, the enjoyment was back. Thursday nights spent with my best mate Dec, and some close friends - Harley & Ethan - having a good game, at a good pace, with a good dose of competition. Now, Dec, look away for this next part…

I returned this week after a year in Aus, to see familiar faces still going was great. The first fifteen minutes or so was from me, I’ll admit, pure shite. Gave away the ball so much, people could’ve walked past me - even in these fun-based games between friends, I can’t help be competitive. It’s how I’ve always been, mainly thanks to my grandad, Gumps, god bless him. We would play table tennis on the dining room table at his house, and he’d never go easy. He reckoned I’d never get better if he did - how true is that.

Anyway, after a shakey start, I found some rhythm. Sitting in midfield, sometimes into defence, sort of a shit John Stones basically, finally I had an impact. The second half came around, and a corner is coming in, everyone glued to the left of the final third. Me? Rushing into that glorious void on the right flank. My run meets a beautiful chipped ball, and in prime ‘Di Canio’ fashion, I slot it bottom left. Dec stunned, all I could hear was: “For fuck sake, he won’t shut up all night about that.” Boy, was he right.

It was a competitive game, ending 6-5, our team, Red’s, won in Golden goal. I totally meant it by the way, but my clearance curls perfectly round the defence into our forward who slots it away for the winner. Despite worries over team selection, our team wins - and Dec gets to enjoy the ride home with me rambling on about the goal. Even now, I text him a little reminder of what to expect should he be on the opposing team come Thursday night.

To some, it’s just a game, but not for me. It’s activity, social time with good people, exercise, a huge dose of whatever chemical compound needed to keep me happy. The downside? A day of being sore and needing an afternoon nap. That’s what months away from football does to you!

A big shout out to all the boys at football. Top lads, for a top game of football too. So good to be back. Hobbies are what I needed.

Reunited with Dan - finally

Good people aren’t necessarily rare, there is good in all of us. Question is, do we all show it, and what is our intention? Dan, for me, is a rare friend. I won’t hype him up too much, want to keep him grounded! Seriously though, he means the world to me, been through a lot with him, and after almost a year, we are reunited - funnily enough, in the same spot we were just before I left for Aus.

I chucked some clothes on, overdressed because Aussie weather has fully had an impact on me and I’m not acclimatised to home yet. There he comes, his Red Seat rolling into the car park, and only a second after it comes to a halt and he runs over for a hug - in all honesty, for the next ten minutes, I was just frozen. Didn’t feel real, once again, I felt crazy overwhelmed. Where did the time go? How is Dan here? Such a crazy feeling.

We said to each other we would do this, a nice hour-ish long car ride, some good tunes - most notably Neil Young, that kind of vibe, and have a nice coffee at the Café on top of Monsil Head, maybe even a cake. The first part, the drive, all went to plan. The next part? ‘Tits up.’ Well, at first anyway.

We arrive at the spot, everything looks closed, you can guess why - because it was. We thought, ah, Sunday, must be that. Luckily for us, there was this small bar sort of thing nearby, a 30-second walk, so we grabbed a couple coffee’s, and tried to sit in the same spot we did a year ago. That’s when a woman comes out of this open door, from the closed Cafe and tells us we can’t sit there - place is closed. Okay, fair enough, we move somewhere else, which only lasts a few minutes because we hear a faint voice saying - “do you boys want some sausage rolls?” You what? Not even a question. To our shock, it was that same woman, her name’s Kim, we assume the boss. The van broke, and the café therefore closed - she didn’t want to waste stock, so we got a couple sausage rolls. Not only that, but she let us sit in the spot. What a gem. It all works out, so we said!

A good hour long chat, everything from individual journeys, to the Podcast, blog, social media’s and more — all bases, well and truly covered. Full circle moment. We both couldn’t believe how fast a year went by, how much we’d grown, and how crazy it was to be back.

More good music on the way home, and a pretty major detour - I think we can all agree Apple maps is way better than Google, but hey ho. Dan was initially stressing but in all honesty, more time together, with good tunes and chat, why not just go the wrong way home? Fuck it. It’s been a year, an extra half hour is an opportunity!

Dan is a source of inspiration and challenge for me. We push each other, and he’s been a constant in my life for a good couple of years now. A genuinely good person. Find yourself a Dan.

Love you brother.

[Pictured: a stormy Monsil head, and me with Dan]

Wish you were here

It’s hard to not think about the song much, it is literally tattooed on my skin for life - on my right forearm. I always loved the song, but really discovered its meaning to me when my grandad passed back in 2019. Now an adult, I wanted to immortalise it - what better way than on your skin, forever.

My grandad was a huge Pink Floyd fan; in his house stands a ‘Bang & Olufsen’ original CD player - proper technology that. High definition sound, with shelves upon shelves of CD’s. Everything. Van Morrison, James Taylor, several Irish bands, Rolling Stones, Eagles, you name it. I sometimes wonder where my music influence came from, and perhaps it’s from my grandad, after his passing.

This weekend we celebrated his 70th birthday. Gone far too soon, under 70 is no age really. Breaks my heart we didn’t get to sit down and talk about football - a sore subject for him as a United fan over recent years - or even just walk into the pub early morning and see him preparing a fish. It was his favourite. Full black outfit, a soprano-esc watch look, his blue chopping board, all his tools, and a full fish. He chose the music - I’m not sure he’d approve of the rap or Deftones we hear in the kitchen these days - but god, what I’d give to see him doing that again. If heaven is real, and I’m not a religious man, I’d want to just see that one more time, be in that moment again, or even just listen to his music with him again.

In his final days, a close group of friends who are one of his favourite bands, Kelly’s Heroes, played a composition they made for him - ‘Belfast boy,’ a nod to his Irish heritage, upbringing, and love for music - all while in his house, him in his medical support bed, with his family sitting around him. I’ll never forget that. Even in his final days, he was surrounded by good people, music he loved, and a good a vibe as possible given the situation.

This weekend is always a tough one, it will never not be, but that’s why you have to be grateful. I regret nothing about our relationship, the pain comes from the missed potential. The adventures we could have had, the lessons he could have taught, and the time he could have had with his brothers - especially Stuart, who would pass in 2024. God rest him.

Life is beautiful, but can be bloody rough. We’ve all lost someone. I don’t wish to bring the energy down discussing death, but remember people not for the sadness in their loss, but for the beauty their presence brought in their life. How lucky I was to have been his grandson, even if only for fourteen years. As role models go, there’s none better than him in my eyes. I’ll do anything I can to make him proud.

Here’s one of my favourite photos of us.

This week’s take aways

The theme always seems to be being grateful, and you know what, maybe that’s just how it should be. Every week I realise how lucky I am. My situation is by no means perfect, nobody’s is, but it’s what I always dreamed of as a kid. Well-travelled, happy, healthy, good friends, decent jobs. Aren’t I lucky!

Another thing - when you exit your environment, it’s easy to open your eyes so wide that you challenge everything. Your job, friends, relationship, whatever. In reality, it’s full circle. I was speaking to an old friend in a cafe this morning - just as I was writing this - and while I at first thought travel had made me more worried, and procrastinate more now I’m home, in fact it coudln’t be more different. My eyes are just open to more opportunities, unlimited actually, and a lot of the things I loved when I left home, I’m rediscovering a passion for - it feels so good to be home.

I read a Daily Stoic this morning, I flipped the pages to May 18th, and it described the idea - in more length than I will describe it - that “knowing something isn’t enough,” and that idea of refining your craft. In many ways, I’m looking at this and realising, this is for me. I know a fair bit about a few things, but now, I need to get great at those things. Media, management, all of it. I want to be the best, not just a knowledgeable observer. I’ve ignored that stoics book for months, isn’t it funny the page I open on is just what I needed to hear today?

I’ll leave you with that thought, and cap of the week with it. Another big, amazing, often daunting week, but one I’m truly grateful for.

Wishing you every success over these next seven days; I really hope you will join me again next week, and every Tuesday afternoon.

All the best,

Jamie x

Also, quick one, I know you saw the word ‘paid’ and shuddered. Don’t worry, if you put in your email below, it literally just means the podcast gets emailed to you every Tuesday. No hassle, no bullshit ads, just a blog delivered nicely to your emails. No spam, nothing.

Takes two seconds, and means you don’t miss out - how good is that?!

Cheers!

The trip home - as I’ll detail for you in it’s own separate paragraph (it needs it) - was pretty brutal. A long journey, with a drawn-out ending, pretty sobering if you ask me - not that I’d had the privilege of a beer on the plane. Boo. All I will say is, when you’re handed a Greggs pizza slice, and hear an old woman saying “y’aright duck!” you know, you are home.

I’m 20, being away from home for long periods of time has just never been something I’ve done yet - I wasn’t sure how I’d feel returning; would I be upset, and dread missing Sydney? Or simply realise how much I missed home so much I’d never want to leave? Luckily, neither of those are the case, actually, a very nice balance.

So, time to settle in…

That big bloody trip

Okay, lets get it out of the way - that trip, sorry for my French, was a bastard. Now I would like to add, I’m pretty resilient when it comes to long travel times. Travelling for football most weekends strengthened me, that was until of course the first time I went to Australia back in January and I realised: ‘shit, this is quite a journey. It’s no Luton away day…’

It’s fair to say Sydney to Nottingham is a bit more brutal than Luton away, definitely. The first leg was a decent flight aboard China Easter Airlines to Shanghai Pu Dong international. I’d say roughly 10 hours? Nothing too gruesome. Astonishingly, around 5hrs of that trip was flying over Australia, how crazy is that?

We landed, a bit tired, both me and Georgia had a couple hours of sleep on the plane - by the way, Georgia, if you remember, was my house mate in Sydney moving to London. All I could think about was food; sure, the pork noodles on the plane hit the spot, but it was children’s portions - or at least my hangry caveman-esc mood felt it was. I needed a proper meal, and quickly. Shanghai Pu Dong is huge, over 600+ gates, it’s nuts. In our little section, there was a couple bars, tacky tourist shops and then a restaurant/cafe sort of thing. We opted for that, ordering shortly after - being in China, I thought hey, why not, let’s go for the beef pasta, with a coffee on the side. Local cuisine and all that sort of jazz. Georgia had a sort of ramen, I think? She left the broth for me, delicious. As for the side dish she left…interesting. Being the adventurous British boy abroad that I am, I opted to just try it. “Georgia, I reckon that’s fish with a…hmm…Wasabi…something?” Well, my tastebuds rarely fail me, I was somewhat right. Wasabi Sea snails, in a sort of oil. Yeah, unorthodox, not typically eaten alongside a pasta, but I suppose you are in China? So why not?

Once we had food, I was pretty much ready for bed - but that five hour layover, now around four, was urging me to stay awake in those bright Airport lights, and write my blog, so I did. This is pretty much a BTS of the trip home which, quite frankly I couldn’t be bothered to write in detail last week. Best to be honest!

Boarded the plane, and a 13hr* flight to London Gatwick ensued. Five hours sleep for me, Georgia, bless her, must have had around 7 or 8 hours - she can sleep for the country, let me tell you. Managed to watch a couple films, and some Anthony Bourdain - maybe the wrong thing to do, as part of me was tempted to head to the cockpit, and beg them to re-route to Panama. Yes, I watched that episode of his in Panama, awesome. It just made me want to keep travelling.

Eventually, we sunk through the almost-heavenly clouds above London, and re-entered reality. A cold, grey morning south of London, as we prepare for the next legs of our journeys - this time, separated. Bags collected, everything ready - bar my best jacket & favourite book I left on the plane, what an idiot. We headed to Gatwick North Terminal, where I saw Georgia off - her journey, now a train into London for sightseeing, and heading to her new place of living. For me, a three-hour wait, before a six hour trip home on the wonderful National Express. A gem of the UK, isn’t it.

Saying goodbye sort of felt easy by now, we’d done it so much this week, but it felt strange. Me and Georgia had together said goodbye to everyone, forgetting we soon would be separate, after all that travel. Thing is, it didn’t feel like a goodbye at all, but almost certainly just a ‘see you soon,’ and that is perhaps why I didn’t feel quite as upset. Georgia, you may be reading this, and if so, thank you for everything - not just the trip, but the last few months. Some of the best months of my life. In fact, she sent me a photo of her at Spoons this week watching Forest draw with Newcastle - Forest being my football team - and I will say, it made me immensely proud. See, already, she gets it. Officially a brit now. So please, with that, start calling Mcdonalds “Maccie’s,” and not “Macca’s.”

Anyways, enough about fast-food restaurant pronunciation. National Express, my saviour! Originally, my bus was booked for Friday - my mum mistook my return date - which funnily enough, said Friday service, was cancelled. Now imagine I had landed Friday? You’d be hearing from an extremely grumpy Jamie, that is for sure. My actual bus was Thursday, 9:15am, two large bags accounted for, and my Mum, bless her, sorted me a nice seat with some extra leg room. I watched, again, more Bourdain, played my war strategy games on the iPad, and continued finishing up my blog. After 30hrs of travel, another six hours really does mean nothing. With that said, the excitement of being back, it really does get to you. The shorter the distance to home became, the longer time felt.

Eventually, we pulled into Broadmarsh station, and there she was, my Mum. Right where she was when I left to go to Australia. In a similar state, bless her, crying - probably the best hug I’ve ever had in my life. In all honesty, I was so mentally out of it, I wasn’t even sure if it was real.

We headed home, to the pub where we live, and there it was - a glorious pint of Guinness. Oh, and my family too - they were alright!

The start of my home coming had begun, how exciting - but also, where the fuck did a year go?

[Pictured: an unflattering photo of me eating in Shanghai airport

]

After the first sip

I use the ‘first sip,’ as a sort of metaphor for that moment when you sit down, and realise - ‘woah, I’m home?’ It still didn’t feel real, even with friends and family all around me. I drank my first beer, more people turned up, and that’s when the overwhelming feel hit - I was of course tired, so a nap would ensue, but further on from that, the amount of people I was seeing all at once, it was all just too much. I love my family & friends more than anything, but given the circumstances, a nap was absolutely needed. That being said, bar the nice sit down with my Mum & Step dad, the rest of the night should go without mention - Forest, losing four nil to Villa. Dog shit. That made the jet lag worse!

Yes, the first mention of that horrible term Jet Lag. I thought I’d beaten it, beat the system, like I did when I last arrived in Aus with no jet lag. How naive to think It would let me go 2-0. No chance. A mix of mid-day naps, 4am wake ups, and all sorts. What I will say is, drinking while having jet lag is a hell of a mix - I can say three pints feels like six. Don’t mess around, or else. I did exactly that, and while the socialising with friends over the next three days was awesome, it was like the last week in Sydney all over again - violent, violent hangovers. That being said, I’m home? I’ll cut myself some slack.

A big shout out to everyone I’ve seen since being home; this past weekend has been so fun. So much done, already making new friends and memories at home. It feels bloody good to be home.

Sunday was a busy one - yes it involves a night out later in the night, before you ask - but more so, it was a day of football. I broke into my dads house, and waited for him in his living room as he walked the dogs. I gave him a fright when he walked in the door, and a huge hug. Me and dad don’t call everyday, maybe once every couple weeks/a month, but the love is the same. It’s never been a perfect relationship, but I feel as we’ve both got older, and I’ve become a man, especially after this experience, our relationship is stronger than it has ever been. We had a quick coffee in the kitchen, a bit of food, and walked down to the local football fields - my brother had a game on, and he was starting. He’s a big lad now, maybe around 6ft? Not quite as tall as me - a welcome sight for my ego - but now my little brother was a young man. Christ. A funny old game, as unfortunately he got red carded, and his team conceded twice in the last five minutes to make it 2-2. Football really is a funny game - it can be brutal, beautiful, or both. It’s just how it goes. Regardless, he did decent, but more so just hugging him after all this time, felt so good. One of my priorities is more time with him - there are many poor male influences in the world, so I just want to ensure he’s on the right path, and surrounding himself with good influence. As older siblings, that’s our duty, right? Love you Harry, mate.

After that match, a quick family lunch - a gorgeous Sunday roast - before I rushed off to Ilkeston Football Club for my team that I coach, their cup final. Familiar faces, the managers Tom & Ryan, with me alongside them on the touchline. Ah, it felt good. So many months absent from coaching - even nicer to finish it all off with a 3-0 victory, and some silverware. Being back in those old Pele King boots, with the coaching gear on, ahhh…it all just feels so right. I missed it, so much.

Since then, a new week, preparing to get back into work, and a shit load of admin - shopping, cleaning clothes (thanks Mum), cleaning up my studio room, and all the rest of it. I have relaxed a lot, but at the same time, done a lot. Again, it’s all about balance, I’d like to think this week has been very much that, so far!

Back to work Thursday, is that where reality truly sets in?!

[Pictured: a mildly pissed me with a cob & Guinness - he’s so back]

Saying goodbye to Elijah

I’m writing this in my favourite café at home, Greenhood, on a Wednesday. A bit late, but honestly, I’m just off of the jet lag cycle, and after yesterday, I just needed to rest.

When me and my friends said goodbye to Owen, back in 2017, I hoped that losing someone close to me wouldn’t come again. Unfortunately, we lost Elijah back in April, heartbreaking circumstances, with yesterday being his funeral.

A first for me, a burial. For most there, a sadly common sight - one of life’s greatest down sides is the unequal ratio of weddings to funerals. It’s so important we are grateful for every moment with someone - I’d have given anything to play pool with Elijah at least once more.

Myself, Declan, and many of our friends carried Elijah into the church for service - last minute, unexpected, but a moment like that while of course soul-destroying is a proud moment. An honour to carry him, and lower him into his grave. With all that being said, I know he’d have been laughing at us all stood there in the rain & wind. He had a good sense of humour.

One of Elijah’s favourite music artists turned up for the entire day - service, burial, wake, all of it. Amazing. Window Kid, or Greg, was one of Elijah’s favourites - he followed him everywhere. He’s a regular Notts lad, just like us, except he’s gifted in his music endeavours, and has made it big. Even with a bit of fame, and a crazy schedule, he gave his day to not only show up, but embrace Elijah, remember him, and celebrate his life with his family and friends. Sometimes people make it ‘big,’ and forget their roots, but he hasn’t. That’s the mark of a good human being - incredible. We all know how Elijah would’ve felt knowing he’d done that, and words wouldn’t be able to describe his happiness.

I also just wanted to say, and he won’t see this, but Dec - I’m proud of you mate. Helping to organise your best friends funeral, and continue to have the strength you have, is commendable. Love you brother.

Rest in peace, Elijah.

What’s coming up?

I want to say the usual stuff, but not really!

This Sunday is my grandad’s 70th birthday, or sorry, what should have been. A big day of celebrations, music, family, and more. It will be a nice way to celebrate my grandads incredible life, and many achievements.

Amongst all this, in fact just before, a big reunion for me. I haven’t seen Dan since May last year. Our last day together? A coffee on top of Monsal Head. Countryside views, an awesome bridge over the valley, and a great coffee, with even better chat. As we do, we tend to think a lot about these sorts of events in our friendship, and we thought, why not pickup exactly where we left off? Same spot, same sort of thing, just with the topic being a return to home life, our friendship no longer being over Whatsapp calls & podcast studios, and all the other situations travel & distance puts you in.

In essence, Sunday is a pretty big day.

After that, of course returning to playing football, coaching, work, basically normal life. It feels so strange to think I’ll be back in the kitchen again, or in my tradie trousers gardening on those cold mornings, or even just lacing my football boots up for some Thursday night football.

I’ll keep saying it - it feels good to be back!!

This week’s take aways

In some ways I’m still a bit delirious; trying to think of this weeks take aways when most of it has felt sort of blurry, well, it’s tough!

What being away has made me realise is how little things change at home. You always put home on a pedestal, and maybe it creates an anxiety, a fear of leaving. It’s only when you return you step back and realise how little has changed. That park you like, it’s still the same. Your favourite restaurant, it still serves that Penne you enjoy. That bloke who stands in the square playing the guitar, he still says hello when you walk by. Of course things change, but not as much as you think - whatever makes your situation more daunting, is usually emphasised by irrational thoughts.

I’ve learned a lot on this trip, but for sure, this weeks biggest take away is that idea of how much I expected home to change when I arrived, only to return and realise, it’s pretty much the same. And there’s nothing wrong with that - in fact, that’s sort of why I love it.

When you travel, you sort of become numb to change on many ways - you’re a nomad for X amount of time, with minimal concrete plans. So to be home, it does feel a tad strange.

I think that’s enough from me - I need a nap!

Here’s to this next part of the blog, and indeed life - don’t miss a moment. See you next week!

Have the best week,

Jamie

Every blog I’ve tried to be as honest as I can be, and maybe this one will be the most honest yet. In a lot of ways this blog has emphasised my honest thoughts on this trip - things I avoided talking about, maybe because I wanted people to perceive the trip as more exciting and remove the struggle, well, the blog killed that. Being performative or creating an image of what your trip is, when the reality is different, serves only the opinions of others. With blogging, I’ve come to acknowledge, reflect, and truly appreciate the things I have done & should be grateful for.

Every week I bang on about things that went wrong and how now it’s going right; maybe I sound like a broken record, and I won’t apologise for it either, because the turnaround is genuinely crazy. There was a good period of time where I thought this experience wasn’t for me, where I didn’t recognise the awesome things I’d done, or the people I’d met - I thought about leaving so many times.

It’s crazy how meeting one person at a fustal event made my experience of Byron Bay & Gold Coast amazing in tough circumstances. Or how meeting someone in an interview would lead to me staying in Sydney, and bouncing back after losing my job. Declan coming to Australia and giving our friendship memories for a lifetime. Again, meeting someone at work who would later welcome me into their house, and make my final months the best I could have ever imagined. One person can make a difference, I can’t thank Mikey, Danny, Santi, Declan, Georgia & everyone I’ve met on this trip enough. People come and go, good people - their impact & love - stays forever.

What a f*cking week

It honestly hasn’t stopped. Not once. All week.

I can honestly say that in all my life, I’ve never experienced an entire week of being hungover - every single day. I discovered my love for good tequila, Chambord, and Carlton Draught. Hell of a trio that is.

Saying goodbye is crap, I will say - I suppose when you look at it through the eyes of a door being left open, rather than closed as you leave, is a good thing. I know this won’t be my last time with my friends, no chance. I won’t let that happen. At the end of the day, you are only a flight away, right? All the moaning about flight length, layovers, all that bullshit, it means nothing really - seeing your friends is all that matters. I definitely won’t be deterred!

The week started in probably the best fashion possible - bottomless brunch. Maybe not the best for my head, or wallet, but as mentioned in the last blog, it was a lot of fun. Then of course the next day, the walk from Rose Bay to Watsons Bay, out of this world experience.

Wednesday came around, and was pretty nice; the first shift of my last week of work, before heading home and having a photoshoot with friends. Was it planned? No, but Georgia just got a brand new Canon - and what better time to use it? Walter’s last night staying with us before he heads to New Zealand, so we had chicken wings with Georgia’s parents, and also cooked some batch meals for ourselves downstairs - Chicken Fricaseé, gorgeous. I’ve attached below some of the photos from the night - a real wholesome one.

Thursday was an emotional one. A final open at work, followed by a couple drinks for Isabella’s birthday - not only a day to celebrate another year on the planet, but also her family being granted visa’s to live in Australia. Isabella has been one of my best friends at work since Day 1 - despite me initially finding her scary, and being grateful she liked me, she’s come to be one of the sweetest people I’ve met. She’s fought so hard to have her family here; makes me feel so happy to know that in only a couple of days, she will see her husband and son again. It all does work out, so happy for you, Bella. I will miss you.

The night took me elsewhere after the drinks, to Newtown, where me and my friends - Micky, Brendan, Jayden, Shane, Avram & Dion went out to celebrate my final time with them. Food, a couple drinks, and music, I wouldn’t want it any other way - funnily enough, Avram just got himself a new camera too, so best believe we took some mint photos. I’ll miss them so much. Walking away after saying goodbye, it stings.

I always knew the weekend would be mental - to be honest, I was hungover on Friday morning because, tell a lie, Thursday didn’t simply end with a goodbye - instead? A number of beers, a bottle of prosecco, and god knows what else. So the next day was already off to a pretty good start…

The final shift at work. I can’t say it was glamorous; I always said - “just you wait, that last shift, it’ll be a bastard!” And, was I right? Absolutely. Busy, functions upstairs, probably could’ve done with an extra few staff - no way was I getting that early finish I dreamed of! We finished after 1am, I was made to close the upstairs bars - my least favourite job - and a sort of funny way to end it. Like Bella always says to me: you won’t get the fairytale ending you imagine, it’s still work. Spot on to be fair. If I didn’t enjoy the shift, I definitely enjoyed after drinks - a few beers to start with, before being gifted Tequila, and, what, thirteen shots of Chambord? Raspberry Liquer. Now when you layer some Bailey’s on top you get a ‘Jam Donut,’ best shot known to man. However, after that many, you wake up with the most rancid hangover, as I soon discovered!

Saturday, and immediately we were back into it as a household. No way were we wasting a day, not a chance. A pretty relaxed day before our work leaving drinks - I headed out to Castle Hill with my mate Beck, a top bloke, used to work in sales together. In fact, isn’t life crazy - we became mates because he lent me a bottle opener at our ESM company staff party, and in many ways aided me vomiting on my carpet that night - and to think, what, seven months later we would be going and watching Basketball together, as great friends? How random, but how amazing. I did my Friday night dinner with Beck, if you remember that blog? A good couple months back. Him & his family have been so kind to me - when I lost my job, he was so supportive. Not a friend, but a brother. Unfortunately basketball wasn’t as great as we hoped, but Frango’s was - my first Aussie chicken shop experience. Made up for the loss to the Hornets at the game. A hug goodbye, and another friend I’ll miss for a while, said goodbye to.

Onto the night time, and I was ready…I entered Cabana completely sober, fair to say I had some catching up to do! Straight on the beers, before some G&T’s, the odd shot, and a sip of about everyone there’s cocktails! By the end of the night, the combination of no sleep & several beers didn’t help me. I was pretty pissed, and needed my bed! I would get there eventually, thanks to Connor who drove us home - shout out to the big dog himself. Top lad. A big shout out to all the Cabana crew, and those we met on the night - hell of a party!

[saturday night leaving drinks]

The concert

So, you may remember I said I had the ‘Deftones’ concert on the Saturday in my last blog? Well, plans change…as much as I wanted to do Saturday, I found out on Friday night General Admission (floor) tickets were still for sale. FLOOR? MOSH? DEFTONES? Sold. Did I get any money back for the tickets? Of course not. Would I do it all over again? God yes.

Music is amazing. I go on about it all the time. I came to discover Deftones a few years back, funnily enough because of my 8yr old cousin - our family a fan of metal/nu-metal. Then, when living in Byron, and having come across grunge/nu-metal bands such as Alice in Chains, Limp Bizkit, etc, I came to love Deftones. I’d tried before, and it wasn’t for me, but often with music a situation will dictate - and for me, I was in a time where I didn’t realise until listening how much of an emotional release Deftones would be for me.

Of course it’s heavy. The chaotic theme sort of energises me, especially under pressure - a regular feature on breaks during a hectic shift. Also, the variety in their songs, it’s beautiful. Hard topics, underlying themes of sadness & emotional release, it all appeals to me. This isn’t a music review blog by any means, but if you want my advice, go and listen. Persist. You’ll find your songs.

I don’t look at set-lists before I go to a concert, why spoil the fun? All I wanted was the classics - “be quiet, drive far away, Change",” etc - but what I REALLY wanted was “Knife prty” & “Entombed.” Huge songs for me. ‘Knife Prty’ reminds me of work closes with my friend Nikki, who I went to Deftones with, and “Entombed” is just an emotional song all round. Seeing Nikki’s boyfriend cry to the song made me realise even more how beautiful of a song it is. Some people think it’s just screaming, and rubbish lyrics; to those people I’d say - get educated!

I haven’t danced like that ever - it’s my first concert for “that kind” of music, and with that being said, it definitely won’t be my last. My neck ‘stung like a bastard’ the next day - can you tell I’m back in the UK with sentences like that?

[Deftones concert pictured]

Saying goodbye to Cabana

Usually, people moan and groan about work - and more often than not, they are within their right to do so. Regardless of wether a job annoys us, it is still time spent somewhere, a creation of sentiment, of friendship - it’s easy to let a bad situation overcast a beautiful timeframe.

Cabana was different than anywhere I’ve worked really. Barring freelancing, which was nowhere near part-time, bare in mind full-time, this is my second job working for someone who I didn’t previously know. I learned a lot this year, and one huge thing is what it is like to work under a ‘lot of layers’. A bigger company, more structure, stricter with certain things, a little more insecurity. On the groaning about work thing, this little subsection isn’t to say I haven’t had a whinge about work - ask Bella & Georgia! But with that being said, I always take a step back at the end of the day, look at the situation, realise how this is how the world works, and to just worry about what I can control. One thing I most certainly could control is wether I come into work with a smile, and work as hard as I can - and in that case, I think I made the right choice.

I walked through the canopy to the bar on that first day feeling nervous - I’d not worked hospo for six months, and only had limited bar experience. This place was packed, corporate clientele, coming up to Christmas. With all that being said, while I knew I’d pick it up, I never thought I’d enjoy it quite this much.

Slowly as the weeks went on, those work relationships became real friendships, and within only a month, everyone felt like, well, family. That feeling in a workplace is so important - I can honestly say, the culture at Cabana throughout Christmas, even with all the chaos that season brings, was unreal. Were there many mornings I wasn’t hungover? Not really. Lots of hours slept? God no. Money saved? Probably not - okay, most certainly not as much as I’d have liked. But WHAT a team.

As it goes, slowly but surely people leave - bars in Sydney are full to the brim with travellers; from my experience, mostly German, French & English - others mentioned Irish, can’t say there’s many around Sydney’s city centre, more toward the Eastern shores. Bondi, Clovelly, Coogee, the list goes on. We said goodbye, welcomed back, bye again, and kept sighing. Then of course, your day comes and you go - fuck? What? You’re so in the moment you never think time would come up on you that quick. Well, it does. One thing I will say is that I made the most of that experience, I have zero regrets.

From barely any experience, to busy-bar experience, cocktails, floor, all sorts - Cabana taught me so much. I needed that place, I will always speak highly of it, and all the people I worked with.

The final day was Tuesday; we just about caught sunset at the Harbour so we thought, why not pop into Cabana for one last drink, aye? A couple beers, and finally, goodbye. As the hugs kept coming, I could feel my eyes jerking more and more, until eventually, the last hug - Rommell. Rommell is the head chef, blokes a bloody legend. Some people don’t talk to kitchen staff, which I never understoof - Bar to Kitchen communication is important, personal raport goes a long way. Not just for when you cock up a meal, but also in those moments where you need resolution, or any kind of help. Kitchen people are awesome, so shout out to all the kitchen team - will never forget them, or how they helped with my work eating habits. So much love for them. When Rommell hugged me, I just burst out - couldn’t help it. Such a legend.

He won’t want a shoutout either, he’ll probably take the piss out of me, but here’s one for Mitch. He doesn’t want people to know, but actually he’s a softie - lunches, the odd break here and there, and of course the many shifts. Love him, he’s a legend.

To anyone reading this that I’ve had the immense privilege of working with at Cabana, thank you. You made this trip so incredibly beautiful, gave me so many memories, and friends for life. In fact, so much so, my travel plans for the next three years are probably set out - from Guadalajara to Paris, Paris to Hamburg, Hamburg to Sydney, and back, it’s written in the stars, isn’t it!

The most amazing opportunity. A reminder that good things can come out of nowhere - be grateful for them!

[me hugging Rommell - legend!]

Airport sit-down thoughts

You’ll notice the blog is out late, and this time not because a big week of drinking has finished me off, rather because I’ve been in transit for the best part of nearly 30 hours - and at the time of writing this, am in a lounge, waiting for a bus that takes almost six hours to get home! This journey is not for the weak.

Travel is fucking hard. One Instagram message is: “Hey mate! Welcome back, let’s get a beer ASAP!” The other? “Gutted you’re going, don’t forget us - come back!” Something along those lines - hard to believe I have friends, right? Can be a right annoying git. That conflicting feeling, that’s what confuses me. Do I feel happy or sad? Right now, it’s just excitement to be home with my family, my friends, and my dog - Bee - who I’m reliably told is under the impression I’m coming home. I hope no one spoiled the surprise…

Australia was a remarkable experience for me, mainly because I experienced so many emotions, extremes of emotions, I gained & lost, had money & was broke, all these opposites - and it all balanced out, creating an amazing trip, with a hell of a lot of growth coming from that.

There’s something beautiful about that cold English air, and the huge family jetting of on their holidays to welcome you home. The more I sit here at this little charging bay area, the more English I feel, once again. It’s easy to mould into Aussie culture, it’s so fun, you almost forget where you came from — all that being said, I couldn’t help but feel the love for home so much as when the plane descended through the clouds and over the beautiful English countryside. Soon ruined by the shit show that is Gatwick airport - but anyway! Not the picture I’m trying to paint.

I’m sweaty, probably smell of pork noodles & tea a bit, and tattoo cream, but despite all of this, feel somewhat okay? 10hrs travel to Shanghai from Sydney, 5hr layover, then 12.5hrs to London - hell of a trip. I think the 5hrs sleep on the plane - starting mid-way through ‘The Revenant’ [Leo Di Caprio film] - definitely helped. No shade on the film by the way, it’s awesome, but plane sleep takes full control - I had no choice!

In general, the experience wasn’t too bad. I was emotional to leave - seeing Georgia’s parents, god bless them, crying - god, that broke me. Bless Georgia, I remember that feeling of leaving home behind, and the people that go with that, so tough, but she’s going to have the best time. She’s off to hike Mt. Kilamanjaro in a couple weeks, before travelling Africa & Europe - what an experience that will be! So grateful we travelled together, a good balance of chat, ‘laptop time,’ and well, sleep.

Anyways, time to catch a bus, and inevitably go home…christ, really, where did all that time go?

Broke in Sydney, continued?

Before I catch that bus, and leave you with a little summary of the milestones which saw huge changes in my fortune while travelling, I wanted to say - it doesn’t end here!

Travelling wise, all I can tell you is that me and the mother are off to Majorca in a few weeks, so, that’s all that is booked! However, I will travel again soon I’m sure, and Australia for definite.

“I’ll never be broke in Sydney again,” was a phrase that literally birthed this blog - people have asked if the blog continues? Do I need to rebrand? Absolutely not. The point in the name was a situation, and I think it applies wherever you go; it’s all about perspective, not actually the money or the location, but making the most of what you have, and how lucky you are to be where you are.

The blog will still be weekly, a whole array of new topics too - and probably lots of chat about weather a lot colder than Australia…

I’m broke in Nottingham? Doesn’t have that same ring to it, does it?

The blog is all about the journey; no matter where I am, I’ll carry the perspective I gained in Sydney into everything I do going forward.

Stay with me on this journey, and thank you so much for joining me on my trip down under - the best experience ever.

A sort of ‘milestones’ summary

Eleven months ago, a coconut fish curry welcomed me to Byron Bay. I was new, to be honest fairly immature, living with my mums friend. Our relationship started strong, she tasked me with helping her to raise her boys, teenagers, and coaching them at football. Guiding them, older brother, sort of father-figure type stuff. We travelled Western Australia together, had the best time, and that was the start of our decline in our relationship. Football coaching in the Gold Coast pretty much was the only thing that gave me purpose there; I had no job, not really any friends - Mikey, Matt, the boys, they made that period of time happy, when god knows I was stressed out. Mine & Bec’s relationship broke down (my mums friend), so after our grand-final game with football, me, Mikey, Matt & Lenny - Mikey’s son - had one last Guzman y Gomez together, and off I head into Surfer’s Paradise, Declan flying in the next day, embarking on a new journey - Sydney bound. Dec landed, and so it began. Money running out, but the excitement of being out of that house, and the opportunity now coming. Special.

We landed in Sydney, probably spent a bit too much on clothes and our AirBnb for the week in Kensington. We tasked ourselves with finding a job, a place to live, and friends would be kind of cool. We cooked a bit, mostly ate dominoes, and anticipated what was ahead - within a week we had a place to live out west, Lidcombe, in a small apartment taking two of three rooms. The job followed, Dec worked at ESM (sales) for a week before becoming finance officer for a top private school, I continued at ESM. Two different paths, and at the time, I knew which one I’d have preferred, looking back. That being said, everything happens for a reason. Eventually I lost my job at ESM, and looked to go home; Danny, who I met in the job, also new there, pretty much saved me. Santi gave me the trial shift, and the rest is history. Christmas, the ups and downs of hours coming and going, all the challenges of a job, but the overlying theme of enjoyment, having more security, and making some of the best friends I could have ever asked for.

Of course, after getting the new job, moving to a new place in Darlinghurst, meeting my amazing group of friends - shout out to Micky, Brendan, Jayden, Avram, Shane, and everyone we’ve met along the way. Partying, discovering new things about myself, and living a pretty hectic few months right in the city - fucking awesome. Knew I’d get a swear word in somewhere. Declan leaving, the come down of that, but also recognising how our friendship grew, how it was challenged, and all the rest of it. Those few months transitioning into independence & what I want from the rest of this trip, it all came by so quick.

And to now, with a couple months to go, moving into Georgia’s house. I’ve partied hard, but lord above, this household parties harder than I’ve ever experienced. So many house parties, ridiculous amounts of cooking & wine nights, music, laptop time, mornings on the balcony, walks, coffee’s - it’s been insane. Living with Bella & Georgia, and Georgia’s wonderful parents, has been the most amazing experience; words cannot fully express how grateful I am for them. Beyond comprehension.

Now, the last day - as I’m writing this - and maybe as you’re reading this I’m transiting home, probably somewhere in Shanghai. How did time go so quickly? Christ.

Summarising this wasn’t easy; 90% of what I did isn’t included - but if you stayed for that, you’d be here all night. I just wanted to sort of give the trip it’s milestones, the turning points, and some of the people.

Maybe you don’t realise the milestones in your life - take a look back, look when things changed, and reflect; be grateful for those who have helped you. I’m so lucky I had the people & the moments I had when I had them, because had I not, I really never would have been ‘broke in Sydney,’ and had the experience of a lifetime for which I’ve had.

This weeks take aways

What more can I say other than, wow. If you had told me as a kid I’d have been as lucky as I have to have done what i’ve done, I think he’d be shocked!

Had I not seen that Australia tourism advert while in the garden on that sunny weekday afternoon, maybe I wouldn’t have done it - especially not now. Isn’t life funny like that?

This weeks takeaway is this - you can make any outcome good if you truly believe in it, and are willing to suffer a bit to make it happen. Waiting is boring, I know, you want cool, awesome days out, everything ideal, etc, but that isn’t reality - I’m glad I persisted with this trip, because I was so close to not.

The summary is a bit dry, a bit short - it’s supposed to be. It’s all about that theme of change, and progress. This journey has taught me a lot.

Now, family time - I want to be the best brother, son, grandson, uncle and friend I can possibly be. I miss football, food, beers, events, all of it. I need it back.

Thank you again for always reading, dropping feedback and being awesome in general. It means a lot.

So that’s that, the Australia chapter over - for now. Now a lovely 5hr National Express journey awaits…wish me the best of luck!

Thank you, and see you next week.

Jamie x

Every time I write, it feels like just yesterday I was writing the last one. The weeks zip by, and with that comes the closing moments on my time out here, down under.

This week was honestly mental. I can’t put it much differently. Started with the household slowly coming back, person by person, a couple of occasions where I’d drank maybe a little too much - in general just trying to say ‘yes’ as much as my body & bank account will physically allow.

One final week with my friends coming up, so absolutely every moment matters - got to make it as special as possible, and make as many memories as humanly possible.

If I have to ‘make a tit of myself’ in the process, so be it. Maybe we all need to embarrass ourselves a bit more, and just have some fun, right?

We only live once for fucks sake!

THAT start to the week

Yeah, so, I got a little wasted, to say the least. It was Wednesday night, I’d just finished work, did the 10-7, and initially I was going to go home. That was until a friend messaged and said they’d be there in 20 minutes. “I should be sensible,” I told myself, but thats for another time. I stayed, and it’s probably right to say that had I been a bartender, I wouldn’t have kept serving me.

In Australia we have RSA (Responsible Service of Alcohol) and it regulates Alcohol sale to ensure safe & enjoyed consumptions. Basically, if I was to be ‘examined’ for my RSA by a bartender, I’d have likely failed horrendously.

One issue I have is, I’m like a child - find something new, get super excited, and get silly. I drink far too quickly, and Wednesday proved that; a good few beers sank in the small time we were there, and next thing you know, I wake up at 5:30am the next day fully clothed - in my work gear - and wondering what the fuck just happened?

Fair to say I’ve felt better - on those sort of days, I’d usually regret the drinks, the stupid taxi home, and waking up feeling rank - BUT - memories. Can’t put a price on that. Well you can, it was something like $60…not bad going to be fair.

Anyway, in terms of how I currently feel, the week can’t get any worse right?

(attached below, me - fully clothed - asleep around 11pm. Laugh at my expense - thank Bella & Georgia for the photo!)

The last ‘tame’ weekend?

To be honest, I expected the weekend to be a bit more lively than it was. Still a good one, but a couple problems with work just made me feel a bit ‘meh’. I’m an energetic type; honestly I think I’m borderline annoying to live & work with sometimes, but honestly, fuck it. If i’ve got energy, best believe I’m using it. When things at work frustrate me though, it just kills that spark a little bit - so the weekend wasn’t wasted, but definitely had the potential to be even better.

ANYWAY - enough about work. Poor Bella & Georgia have heard enough about it this week…

I did make something of the week though actually. Whenever I come back from some time away, very rarely is the week full of activities, spending, and lesiure. Often times I need to recharge the battery a little bit; although I was alone for the Melbourne trip for the most part, I still needed a proper few days to get back into things - I suppose that night out did me no favours, so much so, I walked out the house in full “hungover Sunday” gear. Joggers, baggy jumper, beanie.

The week after that night was pretty chill though, a few shifts in between at work, quiet in all honesty, but that wasn’t the good part - as you could probably tell from my brief, boring description…

Me and Dan, my mate, who I do the podcast with (link below, shameless, I know) decided we would set each other three goals a week. I think I mentioned it last week? The point of them: push each other a bit. We always say things we could be better at, why not put it ‘on paper,’ and make it into a thing, you know? Well, we both smashed our goals.

Mine were: “Tell a friend you love them, run any distance, make a reel for media page.” All three, done. On the last day sure, but done. I told a mate I loved them & how grateful I was for their presence in my life. Then, the big one, the run. I’m not a huge fan of running, it is a bit boring for me, but then again, the view on runs at home compared to here is a little different, most of the time. I asked Georgia where the best place to do a sort of 5k was, she mentioned running to the Opera house. At first, i’ll be honest, in my mind I was like: “fuck that," but think…Opera house…run…views…what a run that would be. To add to that, I needed to make a reel, so I vlogged the run, a bit amateurish, but a start. And finally, I’ve never crossed the bridge on foot and leave in just over a week - just bloody do it.

So Sunday, I got up, had breakfast, went and had myself a coffee and prepared for the run. Few stretches, music on, and after faffing with Instagram, worked out how the reel was going to piece together. Starting in Cammeray, through the parks, a couple bridges, and eventually THAT bridge. Stunning views of Sydney Harbour - my target was in sight. Packed to the brim, long weekend due to ANZAC day so Sydney was absolutely teaming. Hot, packed, bright - all the minerals for a nice run? Not so sure, but hey, it was awesome. Got to the Opera house, took me around 43 minutes, thanks to all the traffic light stops, but either way, just over 6k ran, iconic views encountered & documented. Multiple birds one stone: fitness, goals, and overall a productive start to the day. Can’t go wrong.

After the run, I hopped on the bus home, because Georgia somehow managed to convince me to join in on a bottomless brunch. For anyone unfamiliar with the concept: drink & eat as much as you can, or in our case, as quickly as the people could make it…

We drank a lot. I didn’t count, but amongst the tacos was quite a few Paloma’s (Tequila, Grapefruit, Agave, etc), Sangria & Balter - an Aussie beer. Pretty decent. Taco’s were so good - had all of them: Pork, Prawn, Beef, you name it, had it. To my shock, I wasn’t as leathered as I expected, so after a brief return to the bottomless place to get Georgia’s bag which she left, off to the next bar it was - Jacoby’s Tiki bar. If a muscled bloke with a huge beard and cool cap serves you, he definitely knows how to make a cocktail. Just me? Or do you ever look at someone and just think, yeah, look at them, they know what they are doing. Same thing with quirky people making coffee - you know it’ll hit.

“Coconut old fashioned for me please mate,” because I’m a classy lad, aren’t I? Gorgeous too it was. Strong as fuck though, had to wash it down with a Miami Vice - which was all washed down by my tears after realising i’d spent near on $50 for two cocktails in the space of an hour. I stopped whinging, and we headed to the next bar, a cool little cocktail bar. Slow service, but the experience was cool. Given it’s a cocktail bar, would be rude not to order a pint of the Pale Ale right? That’s what I did. A lager after that, and a shot - sorry, an Oyster - and we tried a few other bars, but nothing really stuck with us. We just drifted for a bit, I had a red bull in hand - which is super rare for me, not an energy drink user. The uber picked us up, and into ‘town’ we went; no clear plan, but one of the pubs near my old place had a dance floor upstairs. A little boogie in there, and everyone was off back home for ‘afters’…

Not me. Felt cheeky didn’t I…

Met up with Micky, Shane, Brendan and my friends and headed out for a few hours, come 2am, I was absolutely shattered. Drinking since around 4pm? Fuck. Bed time. The uber driver was mint to be fair on my way home, stories of him arriving here from Bangladesh, putting his kids through school, and just being grateful for the place we live. Top guy, put a smile on my face, as did my cushion when I collapsed into it. Those sleeps after a big night out always feel so good, the wake up? Not so much.

So yeah, basically, did I learn any lessons from the previous night out? Sure. Eat more tacos, and don’t fall asleep in a quarter zip.

(PICTURED: Said Sunday outfit, and a random car photo because, why not?)

I love beaches

I’ve been saying how much I want to see that view. You know, the one where Sydney’s “North & South” are connected; North Sydney, where we live, that beautiful harbour bridge, and the CBD it’s connected to. All for you to marvel at from a beach a 20-minute ferry, and maybe an hours walk, from that very spot in the CBD.

The place, I’ve now discovered, is called ‘Milk Beach’. It’s fucking awesome; a little touristy sure, but the view is second to none. Everything I’ve known since September, all in one view. Stunning. It really puts everything into perspective. One thing I’m really dwelling on, especially being my last full week, is the need to enjoy these little beauty spots. Spots you see on peoples instagram, and think, god I want to go there, and forget. Is that just me? I hope not, but anyway, we went, and it did not dissappoint.

We made a good day of it too. My feet kill after that, my own fault, wearing fake cotton-on Burkinstocks was never a smart idea for a 2-hour walk, but sod it. I couldn’t be bothered wearing my battered work shoes, my former-beloved Sambas, now ruined by various cocktail syrups, beers, and football matches I shouldn’t have used them for. Suppose that is what Sambas are for - the sort of shoe version of a Land Rover defender - sure, it is meant to get you from A to B, but it does all the gritty extras in between. Ah, I love my sambas, I felt a bit blasphemous talking about them as just ‘work shoes’.

The sun did it’s thing for us today. Aussie winters are by no means awful. Still you’ll get your sun, but the mornings & nights are way colder, plus, rain and the rest of it a bit more common. I guess today was the perfect day for it. A big walk, a nice Strawberry smoothie, watching out for Spiders, watching the planes fly over us, and thinking about how that will be us in just a weeks time. As of you reading this on the Wednesday, just seven days from now, I will enter the doors to that plane, and fly home. A whole year passed by quick - what a year it’s been.

Today, Tuesday, just felt like another one of those core memories; the ferry ride home, the iconic views, even the cold Sydney ‘sea’ breeze hitting me harshly, it was all just so beautiful. Memories of trips to get Guzman y Gomez & Pasta in Manly with Dec, to now. How different times are. The growth, change, all of it.

Special times - so grateful for Georgia, she showed me all around the best spots, she’s cool as.

(PICTURED: Photos from the walk)

This weeks takeaways

To be honest, the past week really put further emphasis on that word: ‘yes’. Just fucking do it. Go to that drinks with friends, that bar you know will cost a bomb, tell yourself “money comes back, time doesn’t,” to justify buying that round you shouldn’t buy. Do it. This trip wasn’t supposed to be lived with the anxiety I had often at home. It was supposed to be lived with a bit of “fuck it,” sprinkled with some “careful there,” and a huge portion of “most people aren’t lucky enough to ever do something like this.”

While the opportunity presents itself, grab it by those big old horns and make it yours.

Who knows when I come back, what time, date, the logistics of it, whatever. Who knows. The point is not to worry about that now, but just live.

I’m someone who gets so caught up in tomorrows antics, and forgets about todays. I like to have routine, and plans, but it gets in the way of me actually just living for now. I’m sure I’m not the only one, maybe you do too. It’s a pain, right?

This next week is going to be crazy. Final days at work, time with friends, so many dinners & drinks, Deftones, more beaches, sunsets, all of it. One more week.

Where’d all the time go?

Have a good week - I got teary writing that last part, so I’ll leave it there.

Jamie

If you’re still here…

Click that “subscribe” button, it is TOTALLY free! No cost. Just emails you, once a week, with the newest blog.

Like, comment, do your thing - most importantly, enjoy!

Have a great week,

Jamie

Subscribe now

Share

Leave a comment

I do have one regret, which I’ll get to a bit later, and it involves Red wine, impulsiveness, and well, Melbourne.

i’ve not slept too much, I’ve drank a lot, eaten more, and walked even more than that - is it a sign of the times when i’m searching for a massage therapist because my calves hurt? Too young to be falling apart. But christ did I do some mileage in Melbourne.

Also, a big shoutout to you for reminding me how cold Melbourne is and to bring warm clothes because, well, for the half part I ignored it, and found out that shorts & Melbourne do not mix, at all. At least not right now…

Navigating the weeks

Time is coming to a close like I mentioned, and i’m always thinking about home. It is, quite literally, all the time. You know when you’re separated from loved ones for this long, the pain of being away just heightens as the time to return comes closer. I can’t begin to tell you how many times I’ve woken up in the middle of the night after a dream I was home again.

Honestly the week was very relaxed. More time off due to hours cuts at work, it is what it is, but I made the most of it. Being more productive, taking myself for coffees at a new shop on the corner, a street up from my place, and reading my book “intensity,” - a great one for any football lovers, and/or especially aspiring coaches - by former Liverpool coach, Pep Lijnders. It hurts me to carry around that god forsaken “liver bird” on the book, I would never be associated with the badge in a conventional sense, but for the sake of good reading and education, I will make ONE exception. Up the Forest.

With this too, I’ve had a lot of time to just relax. I spent the entirety of Thursday day time - before realising i’d buggered the flights up - doing, well, nothing. At all. Quite literally music and sitting there. It was hot sun, so I had 10 minutes just bathing in it on the balcony, then resigned to the sofa. A mix of all music - I dipped between Van Morrison, Jeff Buckley, Westside Gunn, Fleetwood Mac, Frank Ocean, Deftones, etc. If you hadn’t gathered, quite the list. Music is a feeling, and I truly believe the music you listen to as you start your day - for me, the shower - is how your day goes. For example, if I start on a Kaytranada sort of vibe - I’ll attach a link - then I will want to run, or be more productive. Deftones, I’ll feel a bit on edge - productive, but emotionally on edge. Marvin Gaye, anything motown & soul, pure good mood. Julio Iglesias? On holiday. They are some examples, but I’m somewhat wary of word count, perhaps to your surprise…

The big trip

I say “big trip”, when in fact it is what, an hour and a half flight? If you’re lucky, maybe a little less. A small trip in distance, but, my first solo trip in Australia - completely on my own. Of course, I didn’t stay on my own, but I was for the most part. No diss to my friends, but what a joy it was - I love the people I surround myself with so much, but alone time is severely underrated. More so, alone time in a place you’ve never explored, no plans, and a somewhat filled wallet, that’s joy right there. Get coffee three times a day? Go for it. A random alleyway bagel? Yessir. However, the buck stopped at takeaway - my aim was to avoid any big food chain takeaway the whole weekend, and to indulge in the culture as much as I could.

Day one was, well, interesting. I fucked up, in short. Too much red wine, mistaking for AM for PM, and before you know it, landing at the wrong airport. Red wine is awesome, but maybe it should be enjoyed away from booking trips. Melbourne Avalon, as wonderful as the little airport is - by far the smallest I’ve ever been to - is just too far. I won’t be making that mistake again. So yeah, not only did I not have the morning flight I moaned about when on the closing shift at work, but when I would eventually land - around 11pm on Friday night - I’d be an hour from the City Centre (CBD). Fuck sake Jamie.

For record sake, this isn’t my worst airport mistake - that was my fault - because Frankfurt 2023 tops that. The dickhead I am booked a flight to Frankfurt Hahn, as opposed to the main airport. 2.5hrs to the city, hundreds spent on an Uber. I thought to myself, sitting in Avalon…agh…it could be worse, right?

Anyway. Day one, proper day one, full day, was good. I started with a late wake-up, unsure why but I woke up quite literally seconds before my alarm. Strange, but anyway. Got myself dressed, ill-dressed by Melbourne standards, but who said I wanted to fit in? Ill-dressed and proud. I was feeling a bit sick if I’m honest, whenever I go away after a while in the same place, I get a sort of flu. Happened in Berlin, sort of in Greece, times in cities in the UK too. It’s odd. Managed to just about swerve it, and headed for a bagle. There’s this little spot - I think it was Collins Lane? Maybe? I’m not sure, anyway. Jungle Juice it’s called. Everyone on the street had someone to drag you into their business - I had a bad experience in Amsterdam with that, so I’ve learned my lesson. Anywhere where someone has to persuade you to come in in person probably hasn’t caught your eye enough; for me, that is a huge sign to avoid.

This small little shop, a bit rough around the edges, staff with their own clothes, coffee machine & ‘bar’ in the open, in front of your seats, I already liked it. If your coffee is made by someone quirky, it’ll be good coffee, it’s never failed me. I sat down, a menu was handed to me, it was literally laminated paper with card either side. Amazing. A few options, short description, fair price. Bagels. I went for the Kevin Bacon - now from memory, it was a toasted Bagel, a sort of tangy sauce, pickles, Bacon, Halloumi, and some onion. Yum. You see the bloke who makes them, he makes jokes with regulars, everyone’s happy. Fuck yeah, that’s my kind of place. Dire Straits came on too, and for me, that topped it off. Consider this a sort of review, unofficially, which they will never see, but believe me when I say, five star.

With a somewhat filled stomach, I carried on my walk to anywhere. Fed square, down the Yarra river, over a few bridges and back, across various streets, parks and walkways. Eventually, as luck has it, I landed back on my street. I stayed on Lonsdale St, nice little road, I say little, it was fucking massive, but anyways. I headed into my apartment, fifteenth floor gig, big room, all that jazz. Wanted to nap, ended up not. Relaxed for a bit, and remembered this little pub I’d walked past before - ‘The Sherlock Holmes,’ very English. Union Jacks draped outside, people seeping in, yes please. I head in, honestly felt a bit awkward, pints are best served with your mates. Anyway, London Pride on tap, rude not to. AFL & NRL are on, I’ll dip between the two, I thought. All of a sudden, a table is free, I jump on it, and minutes later a bloke - thick Yorkshire accent - comes over: “Can I join ya pal? Nowhere has free seats.” I’d never say no to that. We had a drink, and five pints later, we’d about covered it all. The UK, Australia, family, football, some politics (minimal - can’t be arsed with it), relationships, semi-pro football, all sorts. Top bloke, him - name was Nathan, works with building materials, moving out here for work. To Melbourne that is. After the beers, I called it. Wests Tigers were losing to the Bronco’s, I was tired, and wanted Ice cream. We parted ways, but that made that first night even better. Sometimes when you least expect it, someone will just enter your life, in whatever capacity, and brighten your day. Cheers, Nathan! Should also thank him for recommending the Steak & Guinness pie with chips too, belting. Felt very English on Saturday, if you couldn’t tell.

Day 2 was a good one, cold again. I woke up late, did my usual wake-up (loud music and forever drying off), and headed straight out - my aim for the day was to go and do things Bella, my roomate, recommended. Firstly, and it’s a popular one, ‘Higher Ground’ coffee. Good coffee, but fuck me, $9? There better be some magic beans in there. $9…anyway, I argued with myself, it’s a one off. “Just do it, don’t be a tight arse,” I said to myself. It was at least worth the 20 minute walk.

After that, I had to go to Uniqlo. It was freezing, jeans weren’t doing it for me, so I copped a set of grey sweat joggers. Oversized slightly, I quite liked how I looked that day - something that is a bit uncommon, I struggle with my image, and perceptions. I wish I cared less, but it’s one thing I go through stages of grappling with.

Fit equipped, I headed back to my place, my mate dropped his stuff off as he was coming into Melbourne for his last few days in Australia, and off we went. First we had a coffee, just a short walk from my place outside State parliament, I ordered my usual Oat Cappucino, and we sat. As we are sitting my eyes shift completely: “fucking Gabagool? OH,” They had THE sandwich. Gabagool, a form of Italian meat - THE FORM - Provolone cheese, vinegar peppers, on Ciabatta. Fucking hell, wow! New record for the ‘F word’ on this blog, but so deserved. It is the sandwich from the Sopranos. As I ate it, and sent it to all my friends, waxed lyrical about how much I love the series & so on, I couldn’t help but say “oh!” after every bite. Channeled my inner Silvio, Paulie & Tony. Best start to the day ever. Until some protesters came over and started chanting in our faces - with the greatest respect to those guys and what they stand for, leave me alone, I’m having a coffee. Capiche? Do one.

We must have walked around the whole day too; Botanical gardens, Sports stadiums, rivers, everything. Covered it.

As for dinner, Food at a little Italian place, I had a salami pizza with some capers, all that stuff, tasty. It wasn’t my ideal choice of place, as it was a touristy joint, and I wanted to avoid that, however I was hungry, grumpy, and becoming an arsehole, so it was “red button” level choosing.

Full up, I didn’t want to go too crazy on the beer, so we headed to a small underground Whisky bar. Balvenie 12yo my choice, some good music and a chat with the bartender. Classy little place, I felt sophisticated for 40 minutes, then we dipped home.

Day 2 was awesome, Forest finished it off with a 4-1 win, I was a happy man.

Day 3 on the other hand, leaving day. I’m difficult on those days to be honest, I just wanted to be at home relaxing - lumbering around a big bag all day, it’s just annoying. That being said, I had coffee, lunch, and walked around one last time, and took it all in. It was a good experience, I reckon I’d come back.

Plus, the kangaroos on the way to the airport, and that amazing sunset, good advert for going

.

But one last thing, and I’m sorry if you are from Melbourne, but coffee in Sydney is better. Maybe ‘Melbournians’ don’t leave their state much, but Sydney has better coffee - i’m willing to die on that hill.

So anyways, cheers, Melbourne!

Want more for your friends

You know, whenever I speak to Dan I feel like we have made progress. I speak with him most days too - emotionally, career wise, anything, we both keep making moves for ourselves. I’m proud of him.

I feel like who you surround yourself with is who you become, and if it’s the case, and I think it is, I’ll be gold.

As we were calling, I had an idea - three goals for eachother, every week, not as competition, but more as a sort of “push” to each other. I know I’m someone who. needs directness, I don’t need a push to do something, but I love it when someone pressures me to do something, sets me a goal, that sort of thing. We keep it blind until Monday morning, then we see the goals we set for eachother, usually on a basis of ‘Two career/brand related goals, one personal goal.’ That’s our rough structure, but it is flexible.

I want to be better as a brand, as a human, as a friend, brother, son, grandson, all of it. Your friends pushing you, cheering you on, reminding you, that’s important.

We are on our first week, so let’s see how successful it can be, but I’ll keep track and let you know how it goes.

Shoutout to Dan and any of my friends by the way, I love you.

A final fortnight

This is it then. The blog is late, I’m sorry, I won’t lie I’ve been stacked this week - as you’d imagine when I only have two weeks left. TWO WEEKS. Jesus.

Work will come, and go, and my last day is next week - I think Thursday, hopefully Friday. One last shift with my Cabana family. Best place I ever could have asked to work; isn’t it amazing the change in fortunes - funnily enough, you’ve basically heard about all of it, from losing my job, right up to now. The power of blogging, right?

We are a partying household so I have no doubt we will be out for most of the next two weeks. Lunches, nights out, days out, name it, we will be there. I sort of don’t know how to convey my feelings right now - suuuuper home sick though. I love it here, it’s home in a different way, but shit. It’s been a whole year of my life. How could I not miss it, but also be so excited to return back to my home?

I wanted to say to you too, thank you for being here with me throughout this little journey I’ve been on. Stick around - hey, maybe I won’t be in Sydney, but life doesn’t stop. Neither does change. Keep with me - I have no intention of stopping!

P.S when next week comes, I’ll attach a photo of me emptying my room; that will give you an insight into my mind right now.

This weeks takeaways

Well honestly, like most weeks, being grateful popped up a lot. This little place we live in, it’s so beautiful, and I will be back - I can’t wait to be. The idea that I’ll wake up in an essentially different world to this in just fourteen days time is crazy. Unfathomable in some ways.

Another thing is this - alone time. I mentioned it earlier, don’t be afraid to embrace it. Say no to seeing people, have your own time, enjoy it, embrace it as much as you can, and don’t feel as though you have to always be doing something with someone. I love my friends & family, but nothing beats a night walk, music on, in a place you’ve never explored before. That is powerful. Solo travel opens your eyes, for sure.

Two more blogs in Sydney, that’s all - for now anyways. Here’s to having fun, embarrassing myself, and having a shit ton of stupid photos for you to look at in the coming blogs.

Have the best week,

Jamie :)

HELP THE BLOG!

Just a side note - if you got this far, thank you! Why not keep up that action?

Subscribing DOES NOT cost money. IT IS free. Completely FREE - all it does is notify you when a new blog comes out, how cool is that?

Saves you a few clicks, costs nothing, keeps you up to date with new content. Winner!

Click below to join your friends in subscribing to the blog:

Subscribe now

Kaytranada link -

I suppose I’m still feeling a bit out of it after the news last week, in many ways revelling also in the time I have left out here, while also juggling a bit of an unfortunate, hopefully not consistent, work issue - in essence, it is a bit of a mind fuck. So many emotions, all in one small period of time. It really, really frazzles me.

Much less partying this week, but let me tell you, that didn’t mean we didn’t celebrate - two amazing people left our work this week, both about to go home or further in their travels, and it really does make you sit back and think about maybe life being not so spontaneous, you know? Yes, meeting people is random, but these people - good people - that’s random? I craved good friends, new opinions and challenges, all sorts, and I got it. I won’t bang on about simulation theory, religion, or any of that, i’ll get myself in trouble or into a spiral, but I don’t believe life’s many occurrences are as rare as some may believe.

A bit of a ‘meh’ situation

I hate to rant, or moan, not long left, life’s too short, I say it all the time, but like, ah. This week has dealt me a bit of a ‘bummer’ card in some ways. Work cut me off a couple of shifts, over 10+ hours, and I got kinda annoyed. How do you not, right? I go to Melbourne next week, want to save a little bit, enjoy my last weeks, I don’t want to worry about money, or be short. It’s another reality, and to be honest, the more I work in jobs with less security, the more it pushes me toward trying something out - starting a business, I don’t know, ‘just shooting for the stars’. Hours aren’t a god given right, I know how the business works, but fuck. It’s a bit of a punch in the gut.

I got the text to cancel my shift at around 9am, I’d just woke up, work in a few hours, bag packed, clothes clean, and boom. No shift today, compadre. I’d be lying if I didn’t let out a huge sigh, and whisper a few things, but hey, reactions. I’m as honest as I can be in this blog, so let me tell you, I was no fun all day. Took hours to get out of bed, partly anxious, mostly angry. I just spiralled. The siltation, because it is out of my control, pissed me off. My day was planned for work, and now all this time? In my mind, sudden cancellation of plans really throws me off. Should it have been sunny, maybe a beach trip would’ve been the go, but shit weather, rubbish news, all of it, it was a cocktail of shit for which I downed, and didn’t sip.

A shit day, shaken or stirred, I don’t give a shit, please bartender.

I’m trying to make a laugh out of the day, because I was in a mood so foul, I would’ve told myself to grow up had I walked in on myself. Rotting in bed, angry, ignoring my housemates. Pathetic. However, at the same time, letting yourself feel a way, letting it pass through you, and as it does face the wrath of rationality, it does build a resilience, and a silent resistance to the feeling.

I won’t go into a deep rant because I’m not here to air out my laundry out - me moaning, and being dramatic, is absolutely none of your business - with respect! I’m looking out for you on that one. I feel bad for Georgia & Bella, my rants can be a bit..excessive.

Anyway!

Living with women

If you thought this was the part where I’d start moaning, you couldn’t be more wrong.

I’ve lived with women, of course. My mum, and then women in the old share house I lived in - it’s been a huge part of my life. That being said, you can somewhat strike off living with my mum, if I’m being honest, when I was last at home I did nowhere near as much housework as I do now. Kitchen cleans? Washing? Clothes? All that stuff, done by Mum. As for the share house? Well, I spoke to those women maybe a handful of times - bar my old flatmates girlfriend who used to talk food ingredients, working in hospitality & travel at random points during the day.

In reality, this is the first time I have lived with women who I know & get on with well, who aren’t related by blood, and have no real obligation toward caring for me except because of the fact we are friends. It’s a new experience.

Bella & Georgia have lived together for 2-3 months I think (correct me if I’m wrong, I know you’re reading), and together have made the place a really nice environment. I was somewhat nervous when I moved in, I wasn’t sure how it would be - not because of them, but because of me. I’d lived with ‘randomers’ for so long, in a busy household, now to this? A huge change in environment. I’d like to think I’m tidy, but maybe my old share house peeps just didn’t fancy saying “oi, mate, you’re a scruffy git!”

Probably my favourite part about living with Bella & Georgia is the cooking situation. Fridge full? Lets freestyle. Fridge empty? Innovate OR Neutral Bay Coles is just a short drive away. Chinese music seems to be all the go in the car, I don’t know why, but I lowkey fuck with it. Anyway, we walk around the shop, buy more than we needed, I always come out with some sort of juice, and lately that golden Japanese delicacy - Mochi. Little ice cream balls with a sort of Gelatin outlay. Ingredients in the bag, we head home, and already I’ve visualised what we’re making. Since moving in, it’s all about Spicy Honey Halloumi - Georgia’s speciality - and ‘Italian Sandwhiches.’ I’m an avid enjoyer of Sopranos, the series, so every Italian meat is known as “Gabagool,” in reality, it’s just strips of Proschuittio, Mortadella, Salami, etc. That, layered within a baguette with Pesto spread, Mozzarella (the one where the milk leaks from the bag), Tomatoes, Basil, Salt & Pepper. Phwoar. Making that for people is a genuinely proud moment.

Anyways, I’m sat here right now witnessing the strangest thing ever. Bella & her mate are doing back tattoos, massages, all sorts - all the while, me and the house cat, ‘Chunky’, are trying to cuddle and write the blog. He keeps meowing at me, whatever the fuck that means. A bit of a strange sight, I told Bella I’d mention it in the blog, so there we are. To be fair, tonight was awesome - again relating to food - we made Portabello mushroom burgers with Tomatoes, Onions, Lettuce, Fig, Onion Relish & Halloumi. Fuck. So good. Then for pudding (dessert), Pistacchio rolls. Christ almighty. Hell of a night.

You see the theme here? I’m relaxed, the place is a super healthy environment, and I can share that cooking passion with my friends. It’s been so long since I’ve enjoyed time sitting, chatting & cooking with a friend - the last time was with Declan, almost four months ago now. I needed that.

The music, the food, the humour, all of it, it has been amazing. I don’t have long left in the house, but I know for a fact this is going to be the best last few weeks ever.

I really should stop giving shoutouts to Bella, it’s going to her head!

The best park EVER

Check the thumbnail out. Thumbnail? Main image? I don’t know what they call the picture above the writing when it comes to blogs, but have a look at it.

The park, a downhill five minute walk from the place I live, is quite literally the best park I’ve ever been to - that’s by a mile. Huge sports fields, in a sort of valley, surrounded by Forestry, houses on the hills, and as you keep walking a sort of Castle bridge. Very English style. Under that bridge, a small walkway to a stream, and a hike further down the river. I honestly could not even grasp what I was seeing when we were walking down the steps to the park, I expected something great because, well, this area is insanely beautiful, but that just blew me away.

In fact, and I’ll attach it below, Georgia took this photo, it may just be my favourite photo yet. I get insecure when people take photos of me in a serious sense. Jokingly? As you please. I’ll act up, it’s funny. But a serious photo, I just struggle, so thankfully for most of the photos taken at the park I had no idea they were even being taken. The one you see below, right at the bottom, is me looking out at the park and in the tree sits a Kookaburra - noisy little bastards. Should I have not endured years living somewhere where you hear a mix of Pigeons & Sirens, I wouldn’t have enjoyed it as much. There is something nice about hearing their little laughs, a lot like Monkeys strangely enough. Having a photo with the bird sort of just there, wow. Probably the most Aussie photo I could get. Well, that, or me sinking a Carlton Draught from my Sambas - should this happen, I will almost certainly need antibiotics. My shoes are rank.

Anyways, the park, we decided we needed a walk. A lazy afternoon, and honestly I’d hard far too much sugar. Remember how your parents would say you had too many “E-Numbers?” Well if not, my parents did, and it meant you had too much sugar. I was on a huge comedown from a breakfast & Yo-chi, so we had some downtime, and later on someone suggested we walk - great idea. No phone, no shoes (for the grass part), just a walk. Maybe 40 minutes? Nothing crazy, but we had a great time; rolling down the hill, Tom Brady impersonations while throwing a random dogs ball, rock skimming, imagining life on a house on the hill, before remembering, we live in one? Lol.

Those little moments with good people, you will never, ever forget. That is one of those core memories for me, not even just of living in this house, but my experience in this country.

I say it all the time, sorry if it bores you, but I really did used to wish for good friends here and people to explore with - it’s easy to feel out of place somewhere new, and very much different. Just takes a bit of time and the right people will join your path.

Hell yeah.

A big pond separating the grass

And this is where I try to answer, and will probably fail to answer, that big question. Where actually is the grass greener? In fact, you know what, I’m not even going to try and answer it.

I enjoy the UK & Australia, there’s comparisons when it comes to cultural aspects in some ways, but always will be huge differences. I do love Australia for it’s similarities, but the differences is where it really grips me. It’s relatable to home, but at the same time so vastly different.

Stupid me trying to do a sort of play on words - the big pond consists of several continents, and a little bit of water. 10,537 miles separates me from Nottingham, so Google says. A near 30-hour transit via plane through Shanghai, eventually landing in London Gatwick, before a 3 hour bus home, then a small train trip from the City of Nottingham to my hometown. Then? Probably my bed. When we (me and the mother) came to Australia, Jet Lag hit me far worse coming home than it did going to Australia. Going to Australia, it hit me, but mostly just woke me up at 5am every day - I sort of needed that though? Just for a bit anyway. On the way home though, sleeping at 2pm-7pm, unable to sleep a full night, feeling groggy, it hit me hard. I’m praying this time it goes easy on me. Heavy believer in good karma, so if you notice me donating more clothes to the Salvo’s, cooking for people more regularly than normal, or buying a round more often - sure, it’s because I love my friends, but I also want an easy experience when I get home.

You’re probably sat there thinking: “Shit, this bloke can waffle,” but it’s all true.

That ‘big pond’ is just a few weeks away from being crossed. I’m writing this on Tuesday afternoon, just before publish, and honestly I’ve felt strange all day - a mix of anxiety, excitement, uncertainty, all sorts. I don’t feel great, but I also don’t feel shit, you know?

This is what travel is though. The harsh reality is that, while it opens your eyes to opportunities, new friends, culture, it also makes you realise the fragility of things, reminds you to enjoy peoples presence more and how it makes you question your future more than before.

A nice quote I heard this week: “Discomfort is often the feeling when knocking on the door to growth,” and I resonate with this. Being uncomfortable, feeling how I do, is actually just a bi-product of travel and how it has made me grow.

Special Goodbyes

Again, travel does this to us. All of us travelling aren’t initially permanent here, and therefore, there comes a day when we all say goodbye, or however you say it in whichever language you speak.

This week we said Tchüss & Adios to Peter & Sofi. As it happens, my whole night was free on Thursday believing Peter left the next day, we all arranged to party that night for him, only for on Tuesday him tom drop the bombshell that Wednesday was his last day, and that he would leave the country at 10am the following day. Fuck. Every German person I’ve worked with in Cabana has been great - so easy to work with. Hard workers, great, dry humour, and always up for a beer. The three components to a good colleague & employee in ‘hospo,’ right? From the first night out for Jakub’s leaving party, till then, he’s been a great mate. Always the most fucked up on a night out - woke up on our sofa a few times - just a great lad to be around. Hey Peter, if you’re reading this, I’ll miss you - we must set up a meeting somewhere in Germany. Me, you, Jakub, Sam & Arthur. The boys, back together once again. Good luck, mate!

Sofi, ah. Gutted. She’s actually in Airlie beach right now with Georgia, having the best time. She goes to Disneyland in a weeks time (I think), and then briefly comes back to Sydney before she heads back to Mexico. At work, the latin/spanish group have always been welcoming to me - not quite a ‘Gringo,’ but certainly just a white boy trying to fit in. They taught me some Spanish, called me ‘Jamie,’ pronounced “high-may,” and Sofi was at the heart of that. So many laughs at work, interesting customer experiences, and a shit load of times in Cocktails together. Good times. Cabana was blessed with a good intake, we have, and had, a great group & culture there. Sofi, you’ve been so amazing to work with, I'm excited for my trip to Guadalajara - Georgia said she’s going in 2028, so, I guess see you then (or maybe before, because I’m impulsive). Good luck mate!

Writing goodbye messages is shit isn’t it. Going to miss these guys so much. The next one to go you ask? Ah…

This weeks takeaways

A big week, especially for my mental health. I feel like I’m constantly learning how to become more ‘durable,’ if you could say that? Things hit me, hurt me, shape me, but they don’t control me.

Days like today where I’m overwhelmed with emotion, I don’t shrug off by any means, but I let them pass over. Feel the feeling, think about it, move on. Life really is too short to get caught up in things.

Worrying about leaving? Excited for going home? Let it cancel out, is what I say to myself. A few weeks left, a big trip to Melbourne coming up in the next blog - lets see how that goes…

Have a great week - thank you so much for coming back!

See you on Tuesday,

Jamie x

P.S - Substack is the new home of this blog. I wanted somewhere more interactive for you, where I can see your thoughts, make it more easy for you to navigate, just in general a better experience for reader & writer.

If you see a “subscribe” button, please don’t panic. I’m not asking for your money - I’m not that broke, it’s just the name! All it means is, if you enter your email, it reminds you when I post, and so you don’t miss a blog.

Of course, people do subscribe to the paid version - just to support what I do. It’s like buying me a coffee - it means a lot!

Either way, you reading, interacting, sharing, mentioning, all sorts - THANK YOU! It means a lot.

See ya x