Relaxed, but Not Too Relaxed

For the second day running, someone flipped London's weather switch from "sucky" to "Australian". In response, English men and women have taken to flaunting their flesh in parks around the city, clad only in their dingy underwear. While there really should be laws against this kind of visual pollution, the occasional basking Continental lovely makes the experience bearable. Of course, London's weather is eternally changable and random, as demonstrated by the full-blown thunderstorm that has gathered in the time taken to write this paragraph.

Part of me is worried about all the relaxation I've been indulging in for the last months. Apart from enjoying the sunshine on the roof terrace, browsing the web, playing Warcraft 3 and watching the rather excellent entire first season of The West Wing, I've been visiting galleries and exhibitions, going clubbing regularly, building costumes, rollerblading and having some pretty nice dinners with friends. While it's said one's true character emerges under pressure, I'm pretty sure you learn some pretty important stuff about yourself if you're just given a bunch of free time. Of course, I'm quite aware that I'll run out of money soon and this period of retirement will morph quickly into a time of misery and pain, but I'm hoping I might be set up in Canada, Ireland or Japan by then, doing something fun for an obscene amount of money.

I leave for Dublin in a few hours, bound for mayhem on the buck's weekend of a friend with the reputation for extraordinarily bad drunken behaviour. As long as I'm kept amused and not covered in vomit, the weekend should go well. Apparently I will be murdering a golf course along the way too.

A rather more serious aspect of the trip is the fact that I'll have to face passport control in Heathrow on Sunday, lacking any kind of entrance visa on my passport. I'm hoping a reasonably healthy bank statement, a one-way ticket to Vancouver and a silvered tongue will convince them to allow me back into the country on a visitor's visa. If it doesn't work... well, I'm sure I'll have a plethora of helpful friends in London offering to buy my possessions at competitive rates.