Living the the Life of Reilly
First off I've been to an amazing festival in the Norfolk countryside. I can't really tell you the name of it, because of the poshness and because I'm not really allowed to tell you anyway. Suffice to say, It's in a coubtry mansion, there is only 1,000 people invitied, and it's one of the best parties I've ever been to. We're talking amazing landscaped countryside, tipis, yurts, huge bonfires, old spitfires flying low overhead, lots of yummy food, swimming pool, yoga classes, random sound and light and glass sculptures, the odd celeb swanning about. The funniest was Sting, who when a friend walked by him muttered "I'll give him a message in a bottle." I almost pissed my pants. The music wasn't that great, but it didn't matter. It was a people party. I met some of the most soundest, friendliest bunch of folk ever, and made a whole new bunch of pals. I hated leaving, but on Monday I decided head back to Terrorism Town.
A couple of days, back into work, They decided to drop a bombshell on me. They can't provide enough new business for me to get my teeth stuck into, so they decided to pay me off. Bummer you think? Nope. It's a hefty payout. So much that for the next few months, I'm not even going to bother to look for work, until at least September. It's so ironic. I arrived in England a year to the day ago with literally a pound in my pocket. Exactly a year later I've got a huge wedge to play with in the middle of summer and no need to work for awhile. What a summer I'm going to have. Festivals, a spot of travelling, I might go to Europe with a mate soon, and I'll be going up to Scotland to see the whanau. It's going to be fun. I'll try to post, but I'm pretty much going to be gallavanting around quite a bit, and not be stuck that much in front of a computer.
You could say, I'm living the Life of Reilly.
P.S. Happy Birthday Mikey Ray, you old boot.