- The Terracotta Army at the British Museum, home of the most wonderful collection of treasure and plunder (I visited once before and walked around open mouthed with awe like a geeky bumpkin)
- A burlesque show, because I've always wanted to be a naughty cabaret lady but am severely hampered by my inability to dance, sing or grow proper breasts (I'll be a month too early for the festival, but that gives me an excuse to go back)
- The Tate Modern, where I shall dress in black, wear my trendy glasses and look knowledgeable and not at all intimidated by works I do not understand (though I'll miss Louise Bourgeois' exhibition by a week or so... boo)
- Hyde Park, which I'm hoping I'll enjoy more than I did Central Park in New York (where I started crying because it was so cold but then stopped crying because the tears were freezing on my face and that hurt). I imagine Hyde Park to be very posh because the wardens have seen fit to publish guidelines for picnics on their website. Paper plate and napkin etiquette, one assumes. I'll be Yogi Bear, then.
- LC. Probably.
“'Have you told her you love her?' ‘No. Should you do that?’ ‘All the time, several times a day. Think of it as oxygen, you never stop needing it. I love yo...