According to my Google weather, the next few days are going to be sunny, sunny, sunny.
Yes. That's right. I'm actually talking about the weather*. I've been reduced to this. You know what they say, you can take the girl out of London...
In all seriousness, I have to admit I'm not in the slightest bit sorry, embarrassed, dismayed, or any of the other emotions one should probably feel when they actually want to talk about the weather. Here, the weather is noteworthy. Trust me, it's worth talking about.
You see, here it's not just weather, at least not as I know it. My entire life, I've always known the weather to be fickle and uncontrollable, unable to be predicted or planned around. Apparently this is because I've always lived on narrow islands, which are subject to any weather conditions that may choose to eventuate, no matter how bizarre or inconvenient**. And while I guess I technically still live on a narrow island, it's a pretty sheltered one, with one ridiculously ginormous land mass right next to it - which I suppose diminishes the island effect sufficiently.
And so, the weather is - well, it's great. Even when the all-knowing Google's not telling me that it's going to be sunny for the foreseeable future, it's still great, because I know that whatever Google's telling me is actually the way it will be. If it says sunny, I take sunglasses. If it says cold, I take a scarf. If it says rainy, I take an umbrella***. I no longer have to throw them all into my bag, hoping at least one will hit the mark.
Yes, it's a peaceful, predictable, sort of life I live these days****, thanks to the weather. In New York even. Who would have thought?
Stay tuned for the next post - why the seasons are great here*****!
*I would be talking about the Mark Ronson gig I went to, on a Tuesday night no less, stunning you all with my total coolness and disregard for the working week, buuuuut I didn't go. Because the night before I badly hurt my neck and shoulder, and I was in too much pain. While I was sleeping. Stunning, yes, but not in the way I intended.
**This is how the meteorologists explain it, anyway - of course, it could just be a cunning way to make it okay for them to be wrong 50% of the time, and still keep their jobs.
***Or I cancel everything and refuse to leave my house. I'm not sure how London got its reputation for rain, and New York avoided it, because wow. Rain here is far more than just innocent rain, and the only reasonable reaction to it, at least in my experience, is to start drawing up the designs for a nice spacious ark.
****And therefore, it's a peaceful, predictable sort of life that gets chronicled here. Sorry about that. I will work on it, I promise.
*****Not actually. I promised action, you'll get action! (Aren't you all missing the excitement of the Fulham days right now?)