Leave the house. This is always a good start. Put the X-Box/Playstation 3 controllers down. Yes, down. Thank you. Then go to a bar - tonight!  Be a bit spontaneous. Women love a spontaneous guy. First, however, get a few things in check. The steps below will prepare you and steer you clear of any catastrophes.

1-    Clothes matter. Of course there is no universal style that women dig, keep it you in order to attract your kind of woman. Unless, of course, this ‘you’ is socks with sandals or lime green shorts…Oh yes we have all seen such crimes! Keep it safe with a simple classic jeans and a crisp shirt combo but if you are going for a niche style, just make sure you pull it off properly - tracksuit clad lads with Russell Brand hair is just wrong, so, so wrong.

2-    Look at her. Yes, don’t be afraid, look directly into her eyes - and smile…Corny I know but NEVER underestimate the power of a smile my friend. Oh, and don’t be too serious – I’m not suggesting you wear a three point cloth hat, jingle bell slippers and start juggling but all women like a fun guy.

3-    Body language. We are all guilty of giving off negative body language without even realising. Something as easy as crossing your arms or entering the room hunched over can be off putting and give off an air of hostility. Women love openness and a relaxed man - shoulders back, head up is far more approachable than a slumped, crumple-limbed man who looks like he doesn’t want to be there. Posture pulls.

4-    Compliment skilfully. ‘You have lovely eyes’ loses its affect very quickly and doesn’t quite give you that edge. Remember to compliment on a deeper level and show that woman that you are interested in what’s beneath that glossy hair and dazzling smile.  Listen to her carefully and tap into a personality trait or quality that she is clearly proud of.  A truly unique compliment will not only be highly impressive but also very memorable.  Just be careful - ‘I love the way you talk far too much’ or ‘you’re far more intelligent than you look’ doesn’t quite pack the right sort of punch.

5-     Listen to science. So, biology tells us that women are attracted to a dominant ‘alpha’ male. Don’t panic if you are not a ripped, hunky, towering dreamboat. Women want an alpha man in terms of personality, so insecurity and neediness are a no no.  As you may already know, women have scarily brilliant intuition so weakness is not an option.

6-    Keep them curious.  Women love a challenge and a bit of mystery just as much as men. Not too challenging mind! Being an insensitive so and so does not keep women wanting more, well at least not for long. A happy medium between desperation and a chase is what we are aiming for here. Nights out with the lads and delayed responses to her messages are more than allowed.

In all seriousness, try not to think about it too much.  With a few tricks up your sleeve and a dose of self-confidence and patience get yourself out there and it will only be a matter of time!

I have started writing a novel. You may laugh but it is true. It’s what I have wanted to do since I first picked up a pen so why the hell not. I have written a few passages - a few thousand words but am currently struggling to decide which way the conclusion should go. I am sure I will abandon the poor thing on many an occasion but give me a year or five and I may well have made my dream a reality.

Gas Explosion

There has been a large gas explosion at the National Exhibition Centre in Solihill this afternoon. Sixty casualties have been reported with six in a critical condition.; there are currently no fatalities.

Sally Price from the West Midlands Police press claims emergency services were on the scene within five minutes of the explosion which happened at 2.04pm which was heard from as far as Loells and Perry Bar.

Alan Richards who had been waiting at A&E in Hartlands hospital claims to have seen people arriving by ambulance suffering from serious cuts. He claimed that it was as if ‘they were arriving from a war zone’.

Eye Witness Simon Chiles described the scene as ‘pandemonium’ with lots of blood, glass and smoke at the scene.

The National Exhibition Centre was to be hosting a large University event tomorrow and head of communications at the National Exhibition centre David Simons advises visiting the NEC’s website, www.NEC.co.uk for information regarding upcoming events at the venue

Chaos on the roads has ensued and police advise not traveling unless necessary. There has also been a major traffic collision on the M6 and there are closures and severe delays on the M42, M6 and A45. Train services are running a few minutes outside schedule.

The venue, home of the dog show Crufts was to undergo a 25 million pound renovation in September.

Emergency contact number: 0800 81 2583

The moon sighed

Wind sifted through the trees

She was sad, believing she had made them hide.

Grey and Glum, her sorrow beamed

Streaking the sea

She slowed down everything the harder she gleamed.

So the old moon went away

Maybe tommorow she thought,

They won’t go astray

But tommorow came

And the poor old moon was still glum and grey.

Bright mornings, getting out of bed with ease. Optimism. Cereal in the garden. An automatic bounce in my step, maybe a skip. Family, family everywhere. Walking, but often sitting. Women, beautiful in flowing dresses and flip flops. Cotton, straps, bare skin, smiles. Escaping from the melting sun to drive places in fast cars, blaring songs you claim to hate. Windows down, hair wild in the wind. A trolley full of frozen burgers, Caesar salad, cloudy lemonade and ice cream. Cider from the bottle and lime in your coke. A faint headache at the end of the day. Skin hot, sticky, greasy to touch. I am exhausted and content, sun burnt and totally behind with my work. But it’s Summer, I’m home, i’m carefree and life is good.

I thought you should be the first to know tumblr…

I am seriously considering doing a Creative Writing MA this September. I am not going to get a 2:1 or above so I can not do it at Manchester, however Manchester Met is a possibility…I looked at their website and the course actually looks better than the one at Manchester with advisers such as Carol Ann Duffy and the fact in the second year you complete a portfolio.

I definitely do not fancy doing it somewhere else in the U.K. Being torn between two cities is enough, lets not put a third one in the picture…There is the option of doing it in London and commuting, but this doesn’t quite appeal. When I go back to London its to get a job in the city, not to go back to feeling like a school kid. Also, I don’t think I’m quite ready to leave Manchester yet and what a great diversion.

I need to apply before the end of June. Exams finish mid June so this just gives me a couple of weeks to prepare my application which involves a portfolio of work. I don’t think that there is much I have already done that I can use so this is ambitious. Also, I need to decide whether my specialism- i.e what I produce in the last year, will be - a poetry collection, a novel or a children’s book. I think I can forget a children’s book even though this would have most chance of getting published. A novel is a bit of a risk and I do not know whether my poetry skills are up to scratch. Furthermore, is this really a good idea? I know my passion is there unlike with my current degree, but considering how much I have ballsed this one up who is to say I won’t do it again. Nonetheless, it looks like the end of June may possibly consist of not so much partying as expected and rather lots of decisions and hard work…

Im barley back. But might post some stuff today :)

For the first time ever I’m doubting my passion to write… No, not my passion, my inspiration. It just doesn’t flow like it used to. I wonder whether my year of frequent blogging was just a random burst of imagination which has now faded. Maybe its because I am not bored and do not feel the need to get things off my chest or express things on paper at the moment… But should a writer not exercise self-discipline; if they can’t find inspiration within, they should search until they find some right? Like with any skill, talent or job you cannot just expect it to flow, happen, at the click of your fingers. No, it takes work, endurance and with this will come blips and moments of doubt…

Still, it sucks and I am disappointed in myself. Sorry tumblr. I will be back shortly though. Even if its forced. My passion is still there, it really is.

Hm, either someone is winding me up or you, anon, are very sweet indeed.

Tired and sniffing away I was pretty devastated by a conversation I overheard.

It was two first year students. You can probably guess the emotion of a third year, ill, overworked student already right? They gossiped about boys, nights out and the scandalous antics that had gone down in their halls. I was overwhelmed with sadness and was crazily jealous that nothing too exciting is happening in my life at the moment..(doesn’t help I have been bored ill in bed all week). I also felt bitter again at having been in really boring halls. Then to top it off they were talking about going to the student night pout…The student night I once enjoyed but now go there to frown and work my arse off because I have a ridiculously tallied up over draft after 3 years. They then spoke about their excitement at moving to a house next year. Now I smirked knowing that they would probably go back on saying that when they hate their best friends having seen their true colours having lived with them too long and begin to miss the fun of halls.

They got off the bus with crowds in the centre of Fallowfield. Of course. I stayed on the emptying bus, got off alone and slugged home in the dark ready for an evening shut in my big bedroom. I thought about the two girls, excitable and fresh probably currently grouped in one of their poky rooms. But then I also remembered the intimidation and loneliness that came with moving away from home for the first time and realised they probably are not as satisfied as I am. Yea they have more fun than I do at the moment, but I am settled balanced and comfortable in my life. I know what I need to do and am getting on with it. If my personal experience is anything to go by, these girls are probably ridiculously up and down with the spurts of excitement then loneliness that comes with first year of university. Maybe I don’t miss it that much.

I’m not really jealous, just nostalgic and a little regretful that my University halls and friends did not blow my mind. I’m pretty sure those two girls in two years time will sit alone on the bus one day, enviously eaves dropping on some excited freshers. Times just change….But most importantly I am ill, feeling sorry for myself and realised my serious lack of blog-age recently. So yea. Not much reason for this rant really. So it’s over and out. x

From the moment I was made my life was destined for big things. When you look like I do you do not live life sitting in the background - you steal the show, you wow, amaze and delight. Life is one big glitzy party with me fronting it. Enviable, I will drip with glamour and allure beyond your wildest dreams. As I prepare for my extraordinary life I dream of fine places, important faces and awe stricken gazes.  An easy glamorous life style awaits oh and how I was going to embrace it. I am excited and almost ready for my dreams to come true.

…So I turned out even more beautiful than had been anticipated and amazed and delighted on unimaginable levels.  But it didn’t all quite work out to my liking. Apparently the beautiful and amazing sit in the background here. We are revered, kept safe, and we are oh so very untouchable. I am the candy that sits at the very back of the top shelf. I am one of those beautiful women that live a sad lonely life because no man dares try his luck with something so beyond his reach.  I am the ripe apple at the very top of the tree… Not all my dreams have come true. Not the most important ones anyway. Centre stage remains a foreign dreamy place to me.  I am shut away in the dark. Saved for a rainy day perhaps? No, they daren’t. Just in case I get damaged. My day will come I tell myself as I sit there dusty and still. Patient. It will come.

I just hope I am still as delightful and beautiful that day as I am now. I’ve seen it too often in others like myself: They have not changed, but their beauty has expired as far as the outside world are concerned and then that’s the end of them. A long sad life that never fulfilled its purpose.

But I still dream of My Day. Where I will be just as, if not more beautiful. Vintage. Classic. Select. But day, come soon please, I was destined for more than this life of dusk and darkness.

Yours sincerely,

Beautiful evening gown in the closet.

She had sent him a cake. Golden honey cake.

John ate a slice. Then another two.

Charlie awoke.

He noticed his letter and half eaten cake and smiled.

Charlie didn’t know John, but he didn’t mind.

He shared the rest with Joe.

Only during the war.

She whistled and skipped to the tune of melancholy.

Dear young gentleman,

Today I made her smile. Big, cheesy and genuine. Usually she frowns at me. Sometimes she cries. All whilst stating me hard in the face. Man, I feel guilty, but there’s not much that I can do – I never lie. Ever. I physically can’t.  Oh how I wish I could… But today, thanks to you mysterious young gentleman, I told the hard frank truth and she just smiled. Beautifully.

Confidence -she certainly lacked it. God knows why, she is gorgeous. Unfortunately however, she never felt it. But you, charming young gentleman have made her feel unbelievable today. After her date with you she burst through her bedroom door, looked at me intently and beamed away. I now feel we can at last have that long-awaited good relationship. Young gentleman, please. Please carry on working your magic and don’t go and shattering her new found confidence like many mysterious young gentlemen have done before. Would be appreciated.

I’m enjoying being the good guy at last.

Yours sincerely,

Her mirror.

I have not written anything in a few days because I have been too busy and knackered. This is bad excuse. I was not busy to the extent I had no spare moment and I could have written on the bus. I need to start discipline myself.

No deep meaningful Valentine’s Day related blog from me I am afraid. My Mum once said to me that there is a very sad stigma attached to Valentine’s Day in that someone can go a lifetime without receiving a card. She feels it is a day built up just for people to be disappointed. Pessimistic but probably true. However, I see Valentine’s Day as not just a celebration of a couples love but a celebration of the perks of being a singleton. Basically, it’s a day to embrace whatever it is that is defining your love life at the time! Whether its a romantic meal, frisky night out or a day to enjoy and embrace hairy legs.

I am going to try and post something kind of optimistically love related below - a poem. I fear I may have posted it on my blog before… but hey, if I have this is for my new followers. As you can see below Duffy in her Anthology The Worlds Wife notes Shakespeare comment in his will: item I gyve unto my wief my second best bed. This has often been looked upon with confusion; however Duffy’s poem beautifully explains why and how that leaving her the second, not first best bed was in fact a meaningful expression of his love. I love this quote from his will (even briefly considered it as a tattoo!) because it is such an understated non-cheesy statement of love. Coming from a man who had such skills with words I think it’s to-the-point bluntness makes this statement in an almost ironic way speak volumes and distinguishes it from his forced love poems to unreal people. He could not have gone about it in a better way.

Anne Hathaway
by Carol Ann Duffy from The World’s Wife

‘Item I gyve unto my wife my second best bed …’
(from Shakespeare’s will)

The bed we loved in was a spinning world
of forests, castles, torchlight, clifftops, seas
where we would dive for pearls. My lover’s words
were shooting stars which fell to earth as kisses
on these lips; my body now a softer rhyme
to his, now echo, assonance; his touch
a verb dancing in the centre of a noun.
Some nights, I dreamed he’d written me, the bed
a page beneath his writer’s hands. Romance
and drama played by touch, by scent, by taste.
In the other bed, the best, our guests dozed on,
dribbling their prose. My living laughing love -
I hold him in the casket of my widow’s head
as he held me upon that next best bed.

-

Just looks and turns out I have posted this poem before with a few comments. I said ”But what stood out to me in the poem that I particularly like is the woman’s perception of her passivity in the relationship as something complementary rather than restricting. And then how she humbly adopts a role reversal at the end.” Yes. And there is a lot of literacy techniques etc. But, as I have said these aren’t why I love the poem, its her take on Shakespeare’s words. Look at me quoting myself. Ha!

In conclusion: Now this is love. With love comes differences, support, lust, romance and loss. And don’t forget the small details- actions that are not obvious to an outsider. So this Valentines day I hope you didn’t conform to what is stereotypically romantic or expected. Instead I hope you did something meaningful that you know that that person will appreciate even if, like with Shakespeare, to an outside it could initially seem the opposite.

Post-Valentine Love to my readers xxx