Cheese and Grapes

We eat a lot of cheese. Which is interesting because as a kid, I wasn't a big fan. I still don't like most of the bleu cheeses (they taste like throw up) and many goat cheeses are too strong for me.

You can buy sliced cheese here in London... the square slices aren't individually wrapped a la Kraft Singles, but they do come in a festive, environmentally unfriendly hard plastic container, with a label to let you know the cheese is #2 on the strength guide -- "sharp and tangy."

As I type this, I'm having a few slices of Red Leicester.

All this because I was standing in front of the refrigerator and thought to myself, "oh look, I'm eating Leicester Square."

:: :: ::

So the big question in all this end-of-work stuff is the work permit thing. Have talked with some folks at a firm which specializes in the elusive documents, and good news could be headed my way. If they are correct, I shant be changing my drag name to Natalie Deportman.

Seems I qualify for the HSMP, which means the Home Office will might allow me stay in the country as a Highly Skilled Migrant.

A migrant worker. New career -- I'm going to be a grape picker. See, that's one of London's big secrets* ... that there are so many grapes needing to be picked.

Migrant. Who knew?

2006 -- The year that Bob lives the life of a Joad.

* All big cities have secrets. New York's is that the people there are actually pretty friendly. Same with Paris ... not.