I had it all up in my head. And unfortunately, that's where it stayed.

Welcoming in a new year is a time to reflect. It's also a time to drink a shit ton of alcohol and wake up the next morning with a little filly under your arm who incredibly managed to morph from Katy Perry to Dawn French overnight. But mostly it's a time to reflect. A time to look back at what you have and what you haven't accomplished over the last 365 days and a time to make a heartfelt list of things you want to accomplish in the coming 12 months. Every year I see so many people praying that the next year will be better than the last. Last year I was one of those people.

2010 sucked ass. Big time. I lost my fiancee, I lost my housemate and for the first time in my life, I lost direction. That sounds a little melodramatic, sure, but it's not far off the mark. All the time I was with Annie, I never had to question where life was going or what the next few years would hold. I knew exactly what was going to happen: Marriage, kids (4, Aiden, Evy, Olivia, Noah), moving to Canada, getting a pig and a rottweiler. I had it all up in my head. And unfortunately, that's where it stayed.

2011 should have been a pivotal year for me. If you had told me I would have been single come the end of the year, I would have politely told you to do one. As regular readers will know, I tend to get in over my head with girls. I become infatuated pretty easily, but then get very bored. It's not something I can really prevent either; I'm the type of person who mulls over the tiny insignificant details and reads too much into texts, phonecalls and the like. If somebody isn't perfect for me, I give up. Maybe that's a good thing, maybe it's not.

But yeah, this year should have been about change. Let's take a look at my resolutions I made 12 months ago:


(10) Continue Quest for the perfect Display Picture.

I have a display picture with Roy Walker. If that's not #winning, I don't know what is.

Complete.

(9) Decide where my career is going.

Apparently my career is chugging along at a similar pace. 

Deferred. 

(8) Try a wider variety of Alcoholic Beverages.

I have drunk one new alcoholic beverage every week for 52 weeks. The photo album is pretty special. 

Complete.

(7) Find a new hobby.

Erm... does blogging count? Yeah, sure it does. 

Complete.

(6) Be more selfish. Stop the whole mantra "If you're happy, I'm happy".

I like to think I've been more selfish. I'm still a drip, but I'm definitely alot more honest albeit temperamental. 

Complete.

(5) Clean the cooker. Just once. 

The cooker packed up so the landlord bought us a new shiny one. 

Deferred.

(4) See more of the world.

Hello Boston!! 

Complete.

(3) Wait for Mrs Right, don't go looking for her. Don't settle for second best. Never forget how good a life in love can be, and embrace Idealism (even more so).

I'm still an idealist, but I do tend to still go looking for love in places where deep down I know it isn't there. I still haven't forgotten how good love is, and I don't ever think I will. Have I waited for Mrs Right? Hell no. I've gone looking for her. The one time I didn't go looking, Mrs Almost-right came and found me. 

Failed.

(2) Put on at least a stone of muscle.

I'm not in bad shape. I've put on a stone and I still feel almost rake-like, so let's assume it's muscle. 

Complete.

(1) Give up smoking.

Fuck you Magaluf. 

Failed.

Hindsight is a wonderful thing. I can look back on this list and I've accomplished a few things. These pretty much revolve around women, beer and social networking. When you dissect it like that, it's a pretty grim state of affairs; last year's resolutions were wank. So I'm throwing it out there to all my lovely readers who have been with me throughout this year, through thick and thin, to guide me, mock me and whatnot. As flies on the metaphorical wall that is my life, I'd love for you to throw a few meaningful resolutions at me and I'll see if I can mold a much more productive list than last year. 

I'll start it off:

• Get CERT CII Qualified, finish my driving lessons and complete my TEFL Course,
• Find a new haircut,
• Man up,
• ...

Help a Brother out.

Much Love,

Luke. 

Sometimes we spend life wondering when we should be wandering. Explore life and all of it's great mysteries.

Welcome to Wallow Central.

Population: Me. 

And Sean, I guess. But I call dibs on Mayor. Chief Wallower. The Archbishop of Wallowing. 

So here's a quick sitrep. Turns out there may be a slim chance I suck at dating. There also may well be a fairly large chance that I am completely dire at any sort of games (playing hard-to-get, making her jealous, Modern Warfare 3...). And finally, there's a massive possibility that I should never, ever, under any circumstances, be allowed to use a phone or a laptop after 3 bottles of red. 

No seriously, this is ridiculous. I seem to have somehow inherited the need to ring, text and message people when I'm mangled. It's not something I've ever been renowned for, yet two nights in a row now I have been an absolute pest. Take Saturday night for example. It's 3am. I get home and the room is spinning. I make myself some pop tarts and a glass of milk and sit on the sofa. Then, for some ungodly reason, I decide to take out my phone and call someone. Not just anyone either. 

First call goes to Tasha. I knew she had been out already, so I had hoped she was still in the area. No answer. 

Second call goes to Emma. Despite not having spoken properly for a good few weeks, I decided she would be the solution to my problems. It's a good job Emma didn't answer, because she was the person I wanted to rant about. 

Third call goes to Ella. In Boston. THANK FUCK she didn't answer. My phone bill would have not been pretty. 

Fourth call goes to Sarah. She answers. Of course she does. The same Sarah I dated on and off for almost a year. I'm sure she really appreciated me spending two and a half hours ranting about women and dating. Ahh she's such a doll, that Sarah.

Anyway, I think in future, I'll be giving my phone to my housemate at midnight and telling him not to give it back until the following morning. So things with Emma are done, we can draw a line under that whole saga. And God doesn't close a door without opening a window apparently. And my window happens to be in a hostel in Thailand. Yes, TRAVELLING LUKE IS BACK! 

And this time, he has his trusty sidekick Martin to spur him on and keep him on the straight and narrow. It's time to kick-start that Standing Order, jump back on the overtime train and dig out my little blue book of dreams. In February, we book our flights. And then in September, it's time to pack up and set sail to a magical world of mysterious places, dodgy hostels, very convincing Thai lady-boys and Sydney beach parties, surrounded by bikini-clad women catering to my every sordid whim. 

Today, I officially take myself off the dating market. If you want me, it's purely coitus. Do not expect breakfast in the morning. 

Now let's not try to get attached to anyone this time, shall we Luke? 

Luke

And he returns, tail firmly between his legs...

Oh Blog.

Oh how I have neglected you in another desperate strive for 'The One'. And here we are, over a month later, and I come crawling back to you, hoping you'll still be there for me to pick out all these thoughts and feelings that are swirling around in my head. I guess when life is going swimmingly, I don't have the time or the inspiration to blog; it's purely when things start taking a turn for the worse that I find myself needing to write.

I've now been seeing Emma for a couple of months now. We've been on a few proper dates and we've hung out around each other's houses. Today I'm feeling incredibly down, and I'm desperately trying to put my finger on why.


Maybe it's because for the first time since we've been seeing each other, last night, I felt like we made absolutely no progress. 


We just watched a couple of films. Which is fine. Just fine. I get that she's exhausted from the medication, but I feel that if I didn't kiss her, we would never kiss. My ideal girl kisses me and comes and snuggles up to me whilst watching Tangled, not the other way round. Great film by the way. Major crush on Rapunzel.


Maybe it's because I seem to have exhausted my repertoire of date ideas and I'm running low on ideas and inspiration, yet things seem to be going at a snail's pace. 


Before last night, I had been toying with the idea of asking her where things are going. I mean, things were going perfectly. I'd taken her to a really nice country pub for drinks, we had been to see her second favourite film at a special cinema showing, I'd bought us tickets to see Boyce Avenue, and then when she was in hospital, I brought her a huge bouquet of flowers and spent as much time with her as possible. I've never done anything like this. Sure, I'm a little old-school when it comes to dating but I expected things to go a little quicker and maybe, just maybe, expected her to act a little more interested.


Maybe it's because she's made up with her friend who seems intent on not making things work between us for reasons unknown. 


Fuck you, Megan. What's your problem? Until I started dating Emma, you thought I was a great guy, so why all the beef?


Or maybe, it's because I'm doubting whether I can be the guy that Emma wants, and I'm ever-so-slightly doubting whether she can be the girl for me. 


I get that the guy is the one who makes most of the moves early on in a relationship. He asks the girl out, he arranges the dates, he pays for everything, he goes in for the kiss. That's cool, I get that. But at some point, the girl has to start coming out of her shell and reciprocating. I feel like less of a man by being the one who kisses her all the time and not the other way round.

But hey, I did just get spanked 6-2 on FIFA 12, so perhaps that is attributing to this melancholic mood.

I guess I need to find out whether she's serious about things. In my eyes, I have three options:

1. Keep doing what I'm doing. 
2. Pull away a little and see if she chases me. 
3. Ask her where things are going. 

And right now, all three seem to have their merits and drawbacks. The strange thing is, until last night, I was as happy as Larry. I was untouchable. But after last night, I just can't stop wondering "Is this actually going to lead to anything?". There's only so long you can go on dating, right?

Oh the lovely world of dating. Women - Can't live with them, can't live without them.

Luke

"Just close your eyes, and sing for me".

Let's talk about Thursday night.

Wow.

I genuinely don't remember the last time I enjoyed a night that much. A cosy evening spent with Emma, chatting about anything and everything and watching The OC. We were watching the Season 1 finale, where Ryan leaves to go back to Chino with Teresa and Cohen sets sails on the Summer Breeze, and I genuinely thought she was going to cry. I cannot deal with crying women. I recall Annie bawling her eyes out the first time we watched The Notebook and I don't think I've ever been so uncomfortable, so I'm glad Emma managed to fight back the tears.

It seems the more time I spend with Emma, the more I become completely hooked on her, to the point where she quite literally dominates my thoughts. It's difficult to stop thinking "Oh, how do I look?" or "Is this shirt and tie combination aesthetically pleasing?" when you're in the office knowing you could bump into her at any minute. I know she likes me aswell, which is a great feeling and it fills me with confidence, something I typically struggle with. I'm the kind of guy that will never try pulling a girl unless I'm 100% sure she's into me. I hate rejection like I hate Arctic Roll. And take away the social lubricant that is beer and I couldn't even pull a muscle.

Sponge is good. Ice cream is good. But for the love of God, not together!!

I'm looking forward to taking her out for a proper proper date when I get back from Boston. It's tough timing, but I get to see her Monday evening before the flight on Wednesday morning so I'm buzzing about that. I just need to try and get my Boston head on and get excited. Unfortunately, I'm going to be spending a week with Ella but all week I'll be thinking of Emma. I'm excited to see Ella again after all these years and I know we'll have a right laugh, but that kind of excitement has got nothing over pure, unbridled infatuation. It's nice to have a blog to write in so that I can openly admit this girl has some sort of crazy spell on me without fear of anyone immediate to me knowing that.

So I'm hoping Ella doesn't think anything will happen between us in Boston, because it won't. Although Emma and I haven't technically been on a proper date yet, I am really not interested in anyone else and I plan on keeping it in my trousers next week.

The most entertaining Nicklas Bendtner has ever been.

Did I just buy a Santa toilet seat cover on my lunch break? Why yes, yes I did.

Today I have been in an incredibly festive mood. 92 days until the big day, but more importantly, just 70 short days until the Chrismukkah party! Is this too early to be feeling festive? I'm probably making up for last year when I was the most hackneyed of Scrooges. This year, Mr Christmas returns with a bang.

So the other day, I was thinking about dating and I thought "Where do I take Emma?". Sean recently took his Sarah to a fancy hotel in London and to see a show, and I know it cost him an absolute fortune. I don't have this kind of money, so I need to be a little more creative. Plus I always think big gestures like that lack individuality; you can be alot cuter and more personal than that when it comes to dating and spend a fraction of the cost. So completely randomly, my friend posted a photo of her Boyce Avenue tickets on her Facebook. Turns out Boyce Avenue are playing in London on Nov 3rd. Now, not many people have heard of Boyce Avenue on these shores (which is both shocking and appalling) so there were still tickets available. Then I remembered one of the first conversations I ever had with Emma about how much we had in common and how we liked the same music and lo and behold she mentioned she also loves abit of the Boyce.

See where I'm going with this...?

So I ordered two tickets to see them in the hope that when Nov 3rd comes round, we'll either be a couple or at least still be dating. Possibly quite optimistic, but at £23 a ticket it's not breaking the bank and I know that if things are going well, she will absolutely LOVE it. I'm a fan of the 'gig date' particularly if you're seeing someone like Boyce, Death Cab, Paolo Nutini...

Tonight I'll be heading to the pub for a hard-earned cold one with Martin, Chris and a few others. My '52 Beers in 52 Weeks' challenge is still going strong, although I think I'm a few behind so I need to pick up the pace. I also have my next CII Insurance exam to study for; a problem when you're working 6-day weeks and finding just enough time between gym and football to catch up with Mr Schuester and the gang, let alone study. I left school 5 years ago but these damn textbooks will not bloody jog on.

Luke

Take time to deliberate, but when the time for action has arrived, stop thinking and go in.

Up Shit Creek without a paddle, yeah?

Saturday night was perfect. 

This week I've tried blogging. I've tried and failed on multiple occasions. The truth is, I just can't get you out of my head and you're the only thing I want to talk about. And that hardly makes compulsive reading, so expect fewer posts over the next week or two while I continue to attempt to keep my feet on the ground despite knowing full well that a beautiful blonde fancies the Calvin's off me. 

Luke

"Don't know why I'm still afraid, if you weren't real I would make you up."

Because the truth is, you're everything I didn't know I was looking for.

Luke

“I am not afraid of tomorrow, for I have seen yesterday and I love today.”

So, I noticed that the 28th of August was my 6-month anniversary of my first ever Blog post. Wow. I genuinely didn't think I would last this long (That's what she said!). This, if I am correct, is the part where I write about how much my life has changed over the last six months, right? Time to write about all the lessons I've learnt and how I've grown as a person? Hmmm...

6 months ago I was:

Disheartened by the whole dating scene,
Feeling like I'm in the midst of a mid-life crisis,
A complete Sop,
Feeling like I'm in limbo,
Saving religously,
Drinking like a fish,
Smoking like a chimney,
Listening to The Baseballs.

And now...?
Disheartened by the whole dating scene,
Feeling like I'm in the midst of a mid-life crisis,
A complete Sop....

Fuck.

But hey, you know what, life is good. No. Life is great. I've learnt many valuable lessons. I've learnt that spunking £300 on clothes to impress a girl is both exhilirating and therapeutic (abit like watching 'The Expendables'), even if she only ever sees you in a suit at the office. I've also learnt that, even if you're not sure a girl likes you, it's dead fun to get in over your head and suspend disbelief. It's about the journey, not the destination, right? RIGHT?!! Sod the inevitable disappointment; that's when I'll give my good friend Coors Light a call and see if he wants to hang out.

Wait, my phone's ringing...

I learnt that I can be pretty calm and collected, despite my head screaming to her "PLEEEEASSSEEE LOOOVVEEEE MMEEEEE!!!" in true Bruce Almighty style. Unfortunately, for you guys as readers, my mind tends to ejaculate all the bullshit that I build up all over this blog, so I appreciate you all for helping clean up the mess.

(Wow... did I really just write that...?)

This year I learnt that, no matter how hard I fight it, I will ALWAYS love the blondes. I see a group of girls and I make a bee-line for the blonde in the same way I would always plump for Cookie Dough over Phish Food or Chocolate Fudge Brownie. Like the lovely lady from last night. I don't care if she was mid-thirties, she had fantastic hair. I learnt that life is much more fun when wearing chinos and high-tops, and that wristbands are awesome, until you start giving them away to virgins on holiday to try and lure them into bed. So I've heard. From a friend. Of a friend.

But most importantly, I have learnt that no matter how confused, lost or disheartened you feel, there is nothing that cannot be solved with a crate of beer, a pack of 20 Richmond and a French girl named Florence.

I feel like I am living the teenage lifestyle I should have been living when I was 18. Instead, I was busy galavanting around Paris and paying off ludicrously overpriced engagement rings. I am the exhuberant, extrovert predator that I should have been back then. The chick-chasing, kiss-stealing, heart-breaking son of a gun.

Kind of.

Luke

I need to be bold, need to jump in the cold water...

I'm going to make this an Emma-free post. All I've done the last couple of weeks is think about her and talk about her, so it's time to think and talk about something else. Here's something that's been bothering me for a while.

So every year Sean and I host a massive Chrismukkah party at our house. It's effectively a made-up holiday popularised by The OC (the single greatest TV show ever made) combining Christmas and Hanukkah into one massive super holiday for mixed Jewish and Christian households. Now, we're not Jews, but I guess I'm pretty stingey with money. We're not Christians, but be a fly on the wall during an intense game of Modern Warfare 2 and you will hear plenty of "Oh Jesus Fucking Christ!" or "For God's Sake!". Yeah, that's enough justification for us.

Christmukkah is our biggest party of the year and it pretty much sets the standard for house parties. It's our marquee event and it is pretty epic. This year we plan on really pushing the boat out and sharing the Chrismukkah experience with as many people as possible, and we plan on throwing in some fantastic surprises throughout the night. Just looking at the names that will be on the guestlist this year gets me buzzing: Williams, Zoe, Peppa, Baker, 'She who must not be named', Sarah K, Sarah W, Meg... loads of massive personalities. It promises to really be something special this year.

However, there is one BIG personality left off that list. Arguably the biggest personality of them all.

Annie.

I keep thinking it over in my head, and I get no closer to deciding. Do I invite her to Chrismukkah or not?

Here's some pros and cons.

Reasons to invite Annie to Chrismukkah

• She's very popular. 
• She's beautiful.
• She's friends with Sean.
• She leaves for Oz a few weeks later, so this will be her last house party.
• I wouldn't want her to leave on a sour note.
• She was a big part of my life.
• She makes lovely cakes.
• I already told her at the BBQ that she could come.
• She will wear a low cut top and have her fake breasts hanging out all over the place.

Reasons NOT to invite Annie to Chrismukkah

• She still walks around like it's her house.
• I wouldn't feel comfortable spending time with 'She who must not be named' when Annie was in the room.
• She doesn't drink because of the calories.
• She usually expects to sleep here.
• She moans (in general, not in bed).
• She always manages to piss me off somehow.
• I don't enjoy her company.
• I wouldn't want Peppa to feel uncomfortable.
• My closest friends (Peppa, Shepps, Martin) don't like her.
• I don't like her.
• She will wear a low cut top and have her fake breasts hanging out all over the place.

Quite the predicament. Can I really not invite Annie to Chrismukkah? Do I have it in me not to invite her? She's been a fixture of our house parties since the start; trying to imagine one without her is difficult. She would be crushed. But then again, could the absence of Annie be a blessing? Could it unleash me from my metaphorical shackles? To be able to mingle, kiss and sleep with guests without fear of upsetting the ex-fiancee... that sounds ideal. It's my party and I'll have sex if I want to!

Dilemma...

...Dilemma...

...Emma...

...Emma beeped at me on the way to work this morning. She looked pretty...

Luke

On the surface he looks calm and ready...

I haven't spoken to you since 3am last night. It's now almost 8pm. This is the longest space between texts we have had since we started talking. 

And all I want to do is text you. 

And all I'm thinking about is texting you.

And all I am waiting for is a text from you. 

---

Fuck. 

Luke

August 26th was a Friday.

Today was a great day.

It's a three-day weekend. I have no overtime. I have very little housework to get through. I have a fridge full of Coors Light. I have 4 Menthol Cigarettes.

Or in the words of Paolo Nutini:

"I got food in my belly and a license for my telly and nothing's gonna bring me down!".

Here's a little update for you. Since January I've been saving religiously. I eat microwave meals and I drink whatever's on offer. I switched from Marlboro Menthol to Richmond Menthol, then to Stirling Menthol, then to nothing, just to save cash. In around 6 months I managed to save around £5k.

Tomorrow, I'm going to Bluewater. Bluewater is (I believe) the biggest shopping centre in the UK and is an hour drive from our town. And I plan on drawing out £300 and spunking it all. I'm finally going to lose my chino virginity (let's hope it's better than the time I lost my turtle-neck virginity) and I'm plan on purchasing a plethora of pristine (aliteration ftw!) tight white t-shirts and silly wristbands. I'm also going to pick up a pair of hightops. Then probably put them back down again. Maybe.

My justification behind this is threefold:

(1) I've worked so hard over the last 6 months and I have nothing to show for it. I had a bloody anxiety attack in the office and was signed off with stress for nearly two weeks. I've pushed myself harder than I ever thought I could and I deserve to treat myself.

(2) I'm in desperate need of some new clothes. If I go travelling next year, I'll be needing some new clobber. I go to Boston in 4 weeks and 5 days and I want to have shiny new clothes for the masses of photos we plan on taking.

(3) Emma LOVES the chinos.

Yep, I'm going to dip into my hard-earned savings and buy some new clothes because I want to impress a girl. HEY SHUT UP YOU'RE NOT MY REAL MUM!

So things with Emma and I are going well. She's texting and messaging me just as much as I am her (i.e. all evening) and she's been dropping a few hints here, a few compliments there. She really is a doll, she's incredibly easy to talk to and she is B.E.A.Utiful. My God she is tasty. The kind of smile you could gaze at all night and the kind of thighs you want to use as ear-muffs. She's away this weekend with her family so there's no chance of anything happening which is a shame, but I'm hoping next weekend could be the one. She's a busy girl, and I'm a busy guy, so there's no rush. HOWEVER, she has yet to see 500 Days of Summer, so a movie night is definitely needed soon so I can sort that girl out.

The truth is, I haven't felt this relaxed for a long time. I'm not thinking about travelling, or Annie, or Ella, or my diet or my anxiety. I'm just thinking about Emma, sleep and Glee Project. I can't believe Cameron walked! Literally screamed at my TV on Wednesday. I imagine us Brits are behind the US so no spoilers please!

Apart from Emma, everything else is pretty much stagnant. Work, play, work, play, work. C'est La Vie. My workout regime in now a 5-day split as opposed to a 3-day split, so although each workout is quicker and I'm feeling pretty pumped most of the time, I am finding myself absolutely exhausted day in day out. I do feel like I'm making some good gains and my fat levels are coming down, but the quest continues. I guess becoming a chiselled adonis is not as easy as I envisioned. One day, that Cam Gigandet physique will be mine. One day.

Oh and Sunday Martin and I are hitting the Ibiza foam party at Bliss. HUGE.

Today was a great day.

Luke

Nice guys finish last. Or do they...?

So I'm sitting in the office having a thinly-veiled discussion about Emma with Chris. Very few people know anything is going on, so it's all on the hush right now. Emma and I have been messaging, texting and emailing like mad for over a week now and we still have so much to talk about. She really is a breath of fresh air and she's pretty deep too which is all too rare around these blocks. I think she might be interested. The sheer volume and length of messages would make anyone think she was. I know I am interested. I'll hold my hand up and admit I'm pretty much infatuated by the girl, which is not something I was expecting. However, I can't seem to shake the notion that she is out of my reach. It would seem she is in the upper echelon of social circle, plus she's absolutely stunning with brains to boot. I'm slightly pessimistic about the whole thing but I'm remaining upbeat and I'm plugging away at her, hoping for the right time to swoop in and ask her out.

Anyway, so I'm in the office talking to Chris, and Heather jumps in and says "You know what your problem is, Luke? You're too nice to women".

And so we discussed it. And it would seem that, maybe, I am too nice.

I've never cheated on a girl. I always treat them with respect, I'm always honest, I never intentionally hurt anyone and I'm a pretty romantic person. Take Annie for instance. I surprised her with Paris on Valentine's weekend a few years back. That's pretty romantic. Prague over Christmas. That's up there. Apparently, most boyfriends and husbands don't play these kind of trump cards round these streets. Annie used to leave me little notes in my lunch and I used to give her massages after a hard day. Cute coupley things that I love. Don't get me wrong, we argued. Alot. I'd do manly things like play football and drink beer, but all the cute little things I did, well, apparently that's where I'm going wrong.

So it got me thinking, should I be abit more, I don't know, let's say, Wankerish?

I've discovered over the years that every girl loves a bad boy. That's a given. But when looking for a serious relationship, do girls not want romance, trust, and honesty? Apparently not. They want laziness, arguments, and the occasional holiday to Lanzarote.
You know the type: the cocky jock with the tan and the pink polo. The one who treats women like they're completely replaceable. Men hate these guys, yet women love them, despite always saying they "just want to meet a decent guy for once".

I actually love Geordie Shore. Fuck.

At any point I can log onto Facebook and see one of my female 'friends' complaining about their boyfriend, or complaining that there are no decent guys out there. YES THERE ARE, you just don't want them! You girls LOVE to be mistreated.

I can't be an asshole. Sometimes I wish I could, but I can't. If I tried, it wouldn't work and I'd just look like a complete twat. I just need to wait for a girl to come along who genuinely does want a nice, old-fashioned relationship. I don't think my looks are holding me back; I've been likened to a young George Clooney at times. I just think that this 'good guy' stigma I seem to have inherited is putting alot of the local girls off.

I'm starting to worry that Emma might think I'm too nice.

She's not given any indication this might be the case, but the fact that Heather said it, who is a close friend of Emma's, makes me think maybe they have been talking. Or maybe I'm paranoid. Regardless, I'm not changing for anyone. I can't. This is who I am, so I'll just have to wait for a 'nice' girl to come along. I'm sure they are out there, and here's hoping Emma is one of them, but the bad-boy-loving girls are all too common these days. Which means I'm pretty much shit out of luck.

Some nice guys who didn't do too badly...

...That's all I got. And even he got in a few scraps over the years.

Nathanial Hawthorne once wrote, "No man for any considerable period can wear one face to himself and another to the multitude without finally getting bewildered as to which may be the true."

You can close your eyes to the things you do not want to see, but you cannot close your heart to the things you do not want to feel.

I write this with a twinge of melancholy. The weather is awful. I haven't slept properly for days. Everything I thought I knew, I am now doubting. The last 8 months have been so easy because I've known exactly what I wanted.

The last week has made me realise how empty my head had been before. Racing thoughts about nothing. Just plodding along, saving every penny possible so I can leave this place. A place that reaks of mediocrity, memories and misadventures. Saving to get to a place that has to be better than here. It HAS to be.

And then a girl comes along and fucks it all up. Story of my life.

I now sit up at night trying to work out what would make me more happy: Falling for someone, or getting out of Medway.

I always come to the same answer. I always choose love. I always have, and I always will.

When I broke up with Annie, my Facebook bio read: "Never forget how good a life in Love can be". I have a large canvas image of the Charles Bridge in Prague engulfing the back wall of my bedroom. The bridge I proposed to Annie on, and a memory of the happiest and proudest day of my life. I keep it there not as a memento of Annie, but as a memory of how I felt. Never forget how good a life in Love can be. I've never been as happy as I was then. I had the world at my feet and I didn't need to fight for anything. I had it all, and it felt INCREDIBLE.

I'm starting to think that, maybe, I can escape without actually escaping.

On a lighter note, I need to refresh my dating skills if I am going to woo one more blonde bombshell. It's been a while and I need to work off the rust.

Let's see what I've learnt over the years...

• Girls love to talk about themselves. Ask, ask, ask!
• Biceps are third-date material. Stick with the shirts early on.
• Trying to be creative with a date is a mixed-bag, depending on the girl. Prep is key.
• Do not take her to the cinema. You spend no time talking, and you have the awkward 'when to put your arm round her' issue.
• Don't text during the date unless essential. Phone stays on silent. You wouldn't want her to text.
• Farting and burping is hilarious when with the housemate. Farting and burping is disgusting when with the girl.
• Don't talk about the ex unless asked. Listening to a girl talk about her ex is such a turn-off.
• Don't overdo the Davidoff. You're not clubbing, you're dating.
• Wash your bed covers and have your bedroom and living room clean and tidy just in case.
• Make sure you have coffee. Asking a girl if she wants to come in for 'coffee' can look very seedy if she actually does want a coffee.
• Confidence Cohen!

Female followers - I ask (shamefully, with my tail between my legs), what would be your ideal date? Fill me with tips! And male followers, please, if you have any experiences you care to share, I'm all ears. 

This photo of Cam Gigandet is completely irrelevant. 

One day I will have a body like this. 

Luke

Love Will Tear Us Apart

And at the end, when the dust has settled, he always gets the girl.

I mean, that's the destination, is it not? Finding love. Finding the elusive 'One'. All you need is love, right Mr Lennon?

I haven't dated for over a year. I've put my love life on hold and have restricted myself to the most casual of flings. I've been quite content not dating. The majority of girls I've met over the last year have proved to be shallow and mostly uninteresting. But now, all of a sudden someone has sparked a fire inside me that I haven't felt for a long time. The raw, primitive drive to get the girl. For the first time in over a year (bar one unfortunate misadventure), I'm genuinely excited. For the first time in so long, I want to take this person out for a nice seafood dinner.

I almost forgot what it felt like to be fascinated by someone. To be hanging off their every word. The more I learn about her, the more I want to learn. Except for the Twilight thing. Hate that.

I'm still fully aware this girl is probably out of reach for me. I'm also fully aware that she could very well turn out to be a disaster waiting to happen. A heart-breaker, a home-wrecker, anything like that. That's fine. Despite whatever rubbish my mind spews out in this blog, on the surface I am keeping cool, calm and collected.

I just can't shake the feeling that I have to choose one or the other: Dating or Travelling.

I'm worried if I open myself up to someone, I'll fall for them. And then I won't travel. I'll go back into the 'bubble'. The thought of falling for someone has never been so terrifying. Having religiously saved for 8 months straight, I'm half-way there. If I let someone in now, I'll take my eye off the ball. I know I will.

All I ever wanted as a teenager was to fall in love. Now, I'm debating whether that's enough for me. I want to travel. I want to date.

Unfortunately, I can't have my cake and eat it.

This is the first girl I've met that I genuinely believe that, should things continue to go the way they have been the last few days, I could see myself falling for her. The million-pound question is: Do I let things continue? Or do I cut her out now before anything could ever materialise?

“One day Alice came to a fork in the road and saw a Cheshire cat in a tree. Which road do I take? she asked. Where do you want to go? was his response. I don't know, Alice answered. Then, said the cat, it doesn't matter.”

Luke

Hope Springs Eternal

Don't you just hate it when you meet someone and they turn out to be pretty bloody amazing? Especially as:

(A) You work with them, and we all know work relationships are a disaster waiting to happen,
(B) She is way out of your league, in both looks, charisma and in the social heirachy,
(C) You have plans to go travelling,
(D) Everybody and their Nan also loves/fancies/wants to sleep with her.

It's one of those where you can't find the time to write a new blog post because you're spending all your free time replying to messages from her. One of those ones where you know you have absolutely zero chance (and I mean ZERO chance) yet you cannot help but get excited whenever she makes the effort to message you. You tell yourself "Luke, don't get your hopes up. It's nothing. You're being an idiot" and yet you find yourself awake at 1am tossing and turning and constantly checking your Facebook Inbox.

I need to be careful. This girl has 'Annie' written all over her. Infectious, addictive, and ultimately, soul-destroying.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

What would Barney Stinson do...?

Luke

People Don't Realize This, But Loneliness is Underrated

Yesterday could have been a disaster.

When Annie and I broke up, for around 3 weeks I was living alone in the big scary house. I won't lie; every little creak and footstep scared the shit out of me. I met Emma a couple of weeks after breaking up with Annie and we got pretty close. If I ever refer to a girl called 'Peppa', this is Emma. And yes, I am her 'Salt'. She would stay over alot and we would hang out most evenings. It was lovely having some company around the house. She was part-rebound, part-great friend, and to this day she is still a fantastic friend and someone who I can count on.

Anyway, picture the scene. It's a bright and sunny Sunday morning in the middle of June, around 9am. There's a knock on the front door. Turns out Annie has decided to pay me an unscheduled visit. Unfortunately, I happen to be upstairs in the bed with Emma at the time, so I rush downstairs and let Annie in so she could pick up some of her things. I tell her I have a friend upstairs who just needed a place to crash. "We are just friends" I assure her.

So she walks through the dining room into the kitchen and I ask her if she wants a quick smoke. "Yeah sure", she says. She's not the kind of girl to turn down a free cigarette. She takes her gum out of her mouth and steps on the pedal for the bin in the kitchen to lift the lid. And guess what she finds on top of the bin?

Yep, a condom wrapper.

The moral of this story is: Don't be a fool, wrap your tool. But equally, once finished, dispose of it in a place your ex-fiancee isn't ever likely to see it.

I don't think I've ever felt so guilty and so sorry in my entire life.

So Annie and Emma didn't exactly get of to the best of starts. And then, not knowing Annie was invited to the BBQ on Sunday, I invited Emma along. It had 'disaster' written all over it. I was fully expecting another hissy-fit from Annie. I've kind of got used to them by now, but still, I didn't want Annie to make Emma feel uncomfortable or awkward. Luckily, I needn't have worried. Bar the first 5 minutes or so, it was all plain sailing and I'm not even sure Annie knew that Emma was that Emma. It's a pretty common name after all. Poor old Peppa was a tad shocked when she walked out into the garden to see Annie sitting on our step!

The BBQ was a huge success. Turns out I'm not half bad at cooking chicken and burgers. My barbequed bananas were not quite as popular though. 

My Top Five Songs Right Now

Augustana - Maybe
Jack's Mannequin - My Racing Thoughts
Carolina Liar - When You Are Near
Dry The River - No Rest
Songs: Ohia - Just Be Simple

Credit to Cami for introducing me to Carolina Liar - Thank you so much!

Startling Realisation of this Last Week

500 Days of Summer is quickly becoming my favourite movie.

Watching it through on Saturday night, it brought back so many memories of Annie and the times we spent together. We used to be like Tom and Summer, albeit marginally less good-looking. The scene that always tugs on my heart strings is the Ikea scene. Our favourite place to go was Ikea, and we would muck around in there all the time, just like Tom and Summer. On the flip side, this film also brings back plenty of memories of when we started falling apart.

"Did you ever do this, you think back on all the times you've had with someone and you just replay it in your head over and over again and you look for those first signs of trouble?"

Everything about the film is completely perfect and I genuinely cannot find a fault in the film whatsoever, be it the writing, the cast, the acting or the music. This film is a perfect representation of what it's like to fall hopelessly helplessly in love and then have your heart run over by a metaphorical truck, complete with all the emotional imbalance that comes with it. 

"Roses are red. Violets are blue. Fuck you, whore".

Most Productive Use of Office Time This Last Week

So I am pretty much becoming Mr. Scorecard. Pub Snooker is going to be huge.

So to wrap this up, I wanted to end on something masculine. I don't have a great deal of male readers. The reasons for this could be:

• There are more female bloggers than male, 
• My mutual interests tend to be very 'metrosexual',
• I tend to follow female bloggers (not literally) because they are often deeper and more insightful, 
• I am a big girl's blouse and other blokes don't give a toss about my love life. 

So, men of the blogging world, hear my cry! For you, I give you:

LUKE'S FANTASY FOOTBALL TEAM 2011/12

GK - De Gea - Man Utd - £6.5

GK - Begovic - Stoke -£5.0

 

DEF - Jose Enrique - Newcastle - £5.0

DEF - Shawcross - Stoke - £5.0

DEF - Johnson - Liverpool - £7.0

DEF - Vermaelen - Arsenal - £7.0

DEF - Luiz - Chelsea - £6.5

 

MID - Downing - Liverpool - £8.5

MID - N'Zogbia - Aston Villa - £7.5

MID - Taarabt - QPR - £6.5

MID - Pennant - Stoke - £6.0

MID - Cabaye - Newcastle - £6.0

 

STR - Ba - Newcastle - £6.5

STR - Wickham - Sunderland - £6.0

STR - Torres - Chelsea - £11.0 

I've taken a few gambles, but I'm optimistic I can take home the gold.

AND A MANLY SONG! LET'S GO!

Luke

With Glowing Hearts We See Thee Rise

My three-day weekend has now become a one-day weekend. There was supposed to be no system availability on Saturday. I was supposed to have Monday off as Annual Leave. This is a travesty. I have become totally unable to turn down double-rate overtime. My God, what has happened to me?!! 

"In Becks We Believe".

We have however organised our next big night out. Having completely exhausted Pub Golf, I was entasked with thinking up a genius new idea for a night out. Something ground-breaking. Something Medway hadn't experienced before. 

Pub Snooker.

This is very similar to Pub Golf in that it is a pub crawl with a scorecard. 

At each pub one must consume two beverages: a red and then a colour. For example, a pint of snake bite for the red and then any other colour.

List of available drinks:

RED (1 point) - any alcoholic drink of your choice
YELLOW (2 points) - White wine, larger, cider, vodka red bull, vodka orange
GREEN (3 points)- Apple Sours, Vodka & lime,
BROWN (4 points)- Baileys, Ale, B52
BLUE (5 points) - Blue WKD
PINK (6 points) - Pink Champagne, Pink Rose, Fruli
BLACK (7 points) - Guinness, Black Sambuca

So I now have our next big night out planned for Shepp's 21st. I may make it my Stag night again. I've already had two stag nights. Leigh and I tend to agree at the start of the night who is the Stag and who is the best man, and we get everyone in on the act. We tell the bar staff it's my Stag Do so I get free drinks throughout the night, and we tell women it's my Stag Do because for some reason women want what they can't have and they always try it on with the Stag or his best man. 

Is this slightly pervy? Maybe. Does it work? You bet it does. Try it one night. Pretend it's your Stag Do or your Hen night and see how much more attention you get from the opposite sex. 

If only I had this man's charisma. It would be legen.... wait for it... dary!!

I want to see 'Limitless'. I'm behind in terms of films. Films I still need to watch:

Shawshank Redemption,

Fight Club,

Green Mile,

Donnie Darko,

Napoleon Dynamite,

Casablanca,

Toy Story 3.

But it's okay because I have watched Cinderella Story, Ella Enchanted, Just Like Heaven, Raise Your Voice and Lesbian Vampire Killers. 

Seriously, I should be shot. 

Is Casablanca worth watching now? I'm a sucker for a romantic film, but have I missed the boat on this one?

So there I am, again thinking about travelling, minding my own business. I'm thinking about Australia, and then America, and then I began looking at entry requirements for emigration to both of them. And then all of a sudden POW!... This happens. 

Skilled worker self-assessment

Total point score

Your final score is: 69

Here is the breakdown of your total score:

Factor		Maximum Points	Your Score
1	Education	25	15
2	Language Ability	24	18
3	Work Experience	21	21
4	Age	10	10
5	Arranged Employment	10	0
6	Adaptability	10	5
Total Score		100	69

Pass mark

The pass mark as of September 18, 2003 is 67.

Did you pass?

If your mark from this test is the same or higher than the current pass mark, you may qualify to immigrate as a skilled worker.

If your mark is lower than the pass mark, you might not qualify to immigrate as a skilled worker at this time.

However, if you believe there are other factors that would help you to become economically established in Canada, you may still apply.

Send a detailed letter with your application explaining what these factors are and why they may help you successfully establish yourself in Canada.

Include any documents that support your claim.

_______________

In the words of Monica Geller, "It just got interesting!"

Luke

My Racing Thoughts

My Saturday night was spent parading around a gay bar in a sailor hat. No joke. I have just about recovered. It's Tuesday evening. Fuck.

My beer of the week: Amigos. 

L to R: Me, Terry, Martin.

"Who's Your Daddy?"

Me and Stu.

Unfortunately Erin wanted the hat back at the end of the night.

Goose and Maverick - Wingmen in Action. 

To clarify (and hopefully save some face) It wasn't my sailor hat and we didn't intentionally end up in a gay bar. These things happen. I also didn't intend to smoke three cigarettes. Or drink that Black Sambuca. But somehow, I managed to stay off the poles, which is more than I can say for Martin. I must say, I do love a completely messed-up night out once in a while, and I have learnt to expect the unexpected when out with Tel and Stuart.

So I'm feeling good. I have my Echocardiogram at the end of the month and although the palpitations have come back the last day or two (they always do after heavy drinking) I am looking forward to getting the all-clear from the Doctors. Fingers crossed. Unfortunately I still have the elephant that is Annie in my room. 

It's funny what a break-up can do. One minute you're completely and utterly madly 'in love' with someone, and then the next minute you just want to rip their head off. Of course, I would never harm a girl unless she could bench-press more than me and she hit me first. The point is, this happens all too often (the bad break-up, not the hitting women thing). It's as if you have to experience the full spectrum of feelings. How is it possible to go from absolutely adoring somebody to then not wanting to spend another minute in the same room as them. Why is it so difficult to remain friends after a break-up?

I'm worried that it's getting to this point with Annie. I don't enjoy her company, despite spending four years glued to her every action. How can things change so drastically? She hasn't spoken to me since I told her about Boston last week. To get a better idea of the situation, here's a brief history lesson:

Ella was my summer romance from 5 years ago. She was my first ever 'romance' (in more ways than one if you catch my drift). She came over from the US to spend the summer with her cousin and we met in a local club, and then spent the whole Summer together. Unfortunately, we both knew she had to go back to the US at the end of the summers so we stayed relatively at arm's length emotionally. After she left, we would talk all the time on webcam and there were plans for her to save up and come over to see me again while I was at University in Liverpool, but then I met Annie over the Christmas period and fell for her big time. Naturally, Annie didn't like me talking to Ella and eventually gave me the ultimatum - Her or Ella. I chose Annie. I shouldn't have had to choose, and in hindsight it was unreasonable for her to say that, but that was the kind of person Annie was. Perhaps I was abit spineless in my young age, or perhaps I was just in far too deep. Either way, I cut Ella out of my life completely to save my relationship. It's what you do when you're in love and in the 'bubble' so to speak.

When I say Annie hates Ella, I mean Annie REALLY despises Ella. Ella is everything that Annie resents and everything she envies. Ella is incredibly intelligent, cultural, she is stunning and she liked me. A few months ago Annie found out I had been talking to Ella again and she wasn't happy. And now, I've just had to tell her I am going to Boston to see Ella for a week. No wonder the shit hit the fan.

Subtle, much?

On any given day, I estimate I spend at least 2 or 3 hours thinking, planning, researching or writing about travelling. My latest gripe: Why is it so difficult to get into other countries? Europe is fine, and that's an avenue I haven't really explored yet, but my ideal locations are mainly rock-hard to get into. Despite Mum having a Canadian Passport and that whole side of the family living in Canada, it's still not a formality that I can get in. Not at all. USA I will come to later. Actually emigrating to Australia is alot more difficult than anticipated and the prospect of working out there permanently is looking bleaker the more I research. I need to get out of the UK though, I don't think Scotland, Wales or even Ireland will be enough. This change in my life needs to be bigger than that.

Reasons why I want to leave the UK

Foreigners - I'm not a racist person. If foreign people are prepared to come into the UK and speak our language and have skills that we need then I am all for immigration. But I kid you not, the South East of England has become 'Spot the Englishman'. It is a disgrace. My taxes pay for these spongers.

Eonomy - My gas and electric prices have doubled in the last 6 months. My wages have stayed the same. You do the Math.

Political Correctness - Self-explanatory. Where's the fun at?!

Weather - I want snow!! I want sunshine!! I want extremes! I don't want sleet in the winter and muggy heat in the summer. Give me some proper weather!

Chav Culture - To the point where you can't talk to a girl in a club without being punched or bottled. Nearly. Maybe. Something like that.

1 degree of seperation - Having lived in this town for the duration of my teenage and adult life, I have grown tired of the same faces in the same clubs. Everyone knows everyone.

Women - Because foreign women are so much more attractive than British women. And ALOT more interesting. Right now I'm big on the Scandinavian girls.

America - Because I want to be a blonde 6ft 4 water polo-playing college jock who goes to Summer Camp to be surrounded by hundreds of bikini-clad American women with fantastic American accents. I can't see that happening in the UK. This would DEFINITELY happen in the US. Definitely.

I have an American friend who has an American friend who charged a foreigner £15,000 for US citizenship (i.e. marriage). Tel, Stuart and myself were discussing this last night, and that doesn't sound like a bad price at all to be fair, considering it is nigh-on impossible to get in any other way. Is this something that happens regularly in the US?

I have £3.57 and a packet of Monster Munch, any takers?

I could probably stretch to an Um-Bongo aswell.

In all seriousness, it's not something I would do. Call me old-fashioned but I don't think I could ever marry someone I didn't love. I don't think my parents would let me go through with it either. Marriage is a big thing for me. I'm talking 'taking ballroom dance classes' big. I want a big white wedding because I am a complete sop. My band will be Boyce Avenue and my best man will be Adam Brody. And there will be crab cakes. PROPER crab cakes. And lots of them. Oh, and my wife will be Zooey Deschanel.

"To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die."

To end, I have (literally this minute) just discovered Jack's Mannequin will be releasing 'My Racing Thoughts' as the first single off the new album 'People and Things' due out this Autumn. They are in my humble opinion the greatest band in the world and Andrew McMahon is a real inspiration to me. I have said before that for every mood and every scenario in life, there is a JM song which you can relate to. The music is beautiful, the lyrics are stirring and the hooks are addictive like hell, so I highly recommend checking out 'Mixed Tape', 'Swim' and 'Spinning' to name just a few. I can't liiterally imagine a better way of ending a post / day.

Luke