Change is inevitable...

It's getting to that ominous time now. End of Summer. The evenings are (thankfully!) getting colder and the sun is setting earlier. But most importantly, it's only a week before Grace leaves for University.

To be honest, I'm pretty petrified about the whole thing.

You see, I'm actually proper in love. This girl is brilliant. She amazes me every single day and nobody else can make me laugh or smile as hard as she does, and I feel like the luckiest man alive, as sickening as that sounds. I just really really REALLY don't want things to change. Everything is perfect how it is. It's just perfect.

You see, when I was with Annie, she changed. The last six months she changed so much both physically and in the way she acted. The truth is, things were perfect with Annie until those last six months. We were engaged, we were living together, and we were the happiest people in the world. She's pretty unrecognisable from the girl I fell for those six years ago.

It took me around 2 years to move on from her and I've now been with Gracey for almost six months. I'm scared. I'm scared she's going to fall in with the wrong crowd and she's going to change. I'd hate to look back on this in years to come as a Summer romance. Sure, it's easy to say that if we truly love each other, we will make things work, but this doesn't hide from the fact that she's moving an hour's drive away to live with six other strangers. She's going to grow up so much. I just don't want her to.

I guess you know what they say, the only thing constant in the world is change.

In other news, I haven't been drunk in months. This is officially mid-life crisis mode. I would genuinely rather get up early on a Sunday morning and hit the gym rather than go out and drink on a Saturday night. What the fuck has happened to me? Surely only a matter of time before I'm sitting in my reclining armchair sipping English Tea and watching Songs of Praise.

I need some adventure. I did buy a hilarious Cookie Monster T-shirt yesterday though. 'Me Love Music' it says. So fetch.

Quickfire.

Storage Hunters. Storage Raiders. Pawn Stars. Gold Rush. Auction Kings.

This is why God invented the TV.

I hope you're all well!

Luke
x

Today is going to be a good day.

It’s Saturday morning and I’m gearing up for a session of mammoth proportions tonight. To put things into perspective, I’ve worked every Saturday since JFK was shot and it is a well-known fact that my alcohol consumption of recent weeks has been well below standard. So tonight, I’m going to go out and get absolutely bloody mortal. Just as long as I can squeeze in a power nap beforehand. It’s Saturday night, let’s go and regret something.

It’s Valentine’s Day soon. In more interesting news, I just had a boiled egg.

In all seriousness, Valentine’s is a day to shower your special someone with expensive shiny things. Unfortunately, due to the restraining order, I can’t get my gifts to Aiden Grimshaw, so I’ll have to just treat myself. I could do with a new hoody (in hindsight I shouldn’t have been a cheapskate and bought the cheap imitation Harvard hoody and just plumped for a decent quality one), but knowing me, I’ll treat myself to a Double Steakhouse Angus.

And for the 5 minutes it takes me to eat that, I will be happier than any of these dozey couples.

So travelling is the flavour of the month. We’ve been quoted around £1700 for our flights, and here’s a very brief summary of the latest itinerary:

Sept 15^th: London >>> Boston

(Overland to Miami)

Oct 15^th : Miami >>> Bangkok (via Los Angeles)

(Overland to Singapore)

Dec 15^th: Singapore >>> Sydney

Then it ends. After Christmas and New Years in Sydney. I have absolutely no idea where life will take me. In an ideal world, I’ll meet a beautiful, blonde, bikini-clad Aussie and fall helplessly and hopelessly in love and live in a little beach hut in Australia for the rest of our lives. But I’d settle for a half-decent job in Oz and a good tan.

Or I could pay a cute, impressionable American chick a couple grand for a sham marriage and US Citizenship.

Of course I’m joking…

I don’t want to come back to Medway. Things might change, but right now I have nothing but my wonderfully huge family in Medway. And my Jack’s Mannequin Vinyls. Shit. But with all due respect to my family and the Mannequin, I have to find my own way and I know that Medway isn’t a place I want to grow old and senile in. 

I am absolutely buzzing for America. I’ve only ever been to Boston and I bloody loved it. I can’t wait to work my way down that east coast, staying in cheap hostels and motels and going to seedy bars. Originally the plan was to go from East to West but I just don’t think we could do it justice in that short space of time, so we’re sticking to the East, So if any of my American readers have any personal recommendations, tips, warnings, or a spare bed or couch, I’m all ears.

It’s abit gutting that it doesn’t look like we’ll be tackling the west coast. Especially since I found this little beaut.

http://www.seeing-stars.com/OC/

I even picked out a nice little hostel near Redondo Beach so I could go have Pancakes at the Pier Diner and see the Bait Shop. Absolutely gutted.

So it’s 10am, I’m in an eerily quiet office having a one-man silent rave to The Smiths, contemplating going out for my third cigarette of the day. Today is going to be a good day. For no other reason than I would like it to be a good day.

Much love,

Luke

Some say I'm burning the candle at both ends.

So this is 2012? As I sit here in the office on a Bank Holiday Monday morning, once again up at stupid o’clock, with just one other person insane/desperate enough to work overtime today, I must say 2012 feels an awful lot like 2011.

Except this year is going to be my year. Not because I think it will be, or because I’m due a good year. No. This is going to be my year because I’m going to bloody well make it my year. I have 9 months until I leave for my travels and in those 9 months I am going to be working like a little bitch to get as much saved as possible. I'm also going to go out, party hard, dance to dubstep (despite harboring an irrational hatred towards it), get smashed, sleep with random women and wake up with some of the most disgusting hangovers known to man. Some say I'm burning the candle at both ends. To those people I say: "Fuck you". Politely, of course.

So as expected, I have a plethora of crazy, exciting ideas for my travels, and trying to fit them into one solid itinerary isn’t easy. Over the next few weeks or so, Martin and I need to decide where we want to go and in what route. I’ve ordered a giant World Map poster for my bedroom wall, and I have this great vision in my head of this poster being covered with post-its and pins and looking proper beastly, although in reality I tend to fail dismally with anything arts and crafts-related. The infamous flowerpot painting of ’08 springs to mind.

New Year’s Eve was… different. What a great time for a club to have a powercut. The music in the main room cut out at 1am and didn't come back on until around 3am, but by that time the only people left in the club were the stupidly drunk and the embarrassingly desperate. I was still there.

It was good to see Peppa though. She looked absolutely gorgeous, better than she’s ever looked. For a moment, I wondered whether I made the right choice by not dating her, but I guess you need some sort of spark and we never had that. But it did lead me to realise that every girl I date gets substantially better looking when we stop seeing each other? That's not fair. I'm looking at you Sarah. What the fuck. Where did those breasts come from? 


So I’ve had some time to mull over my resolutions for 2012 and I think I’ve got a pretty good list coming along.

Stop smoking

I hate this because it is purely for financial reasons. I bloody love smoking and I shall miss my lovely little white cancer-sticks.

Pass my driving test

Because guys who drive are hotter than guys who walk.

Complete my Cert CII and TEFL courses

Get as qualified as possible before I pack up and leave town... just in case.

Learn the art of sealing the deal

The ongoing joke that I am unable to ‘seal the deal’; In short I get a girl home and get her into bed and for one reason or another do not have sex with them, be it overly-drunk, refusal to depart with virginity or wrong time of the month. This affectionately led me to inherit the nickname ‘Captain Cuddles’. So 2012 is the year I get the job done. 

Find a new haircut

Which will more than likely mean ‘Shave head in the hope I look more badass’.

Get out of the UK

Because everyone knows this country is going down the shitter and who doesn't love a chick with an accent.



That should do nicely for now. I may add more as the week goes on, but right now, I just can't take my mind off that god-awful smell in the kitchen. Filth. I hope you all had lovely New Years celebrations and the 50 or so photos you were tagged in the following morning were considerably better than mine. 'Photogenic' is not a word I would use to describe myself.


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

Apology

Dear Liver,

 

Recently I have been taking you for granted. For so many years now you have been there for me. Silently, diligently working away and not asking for anything in return. Last night, once again I abused you. Is this some horrific Jeremy Kyle-esque relationship we have? I abuse you over and over again, beating you senseless until I pass out.

I am (just about) sober now, and please know that I regret my actions. I know I can be a real muppet at times, but I really do care. Thanks for taking one for the team, and I apologise for making you work so damn hard. You're a champ.

I'm giving you a week off. Well at least 5 days. Or at least until Monday night.

 

Sincerely

Luke

 

________________

 

 

Dear Self-esteem,

 

It's good to have you back ;)

 

Sincerely

Luke