Just back from a trip to NYC for the International Toy Fair -- good fun, exhausting, productive but most notably HOT. This week, New York hit temperatures in the low 100s (35-40C for those of us using a logical system of measuring temperature) plus humidity. With the mild or non-existent summers I've had in the UK the last couple of years, I'd forgotten the joys of the summer weather I'd grown up with in Toronto but New York brought it all back without pity.

I'm pretty sure I showered at least three times both Saturday and Sunday to maintain some semblance of normalcy. Monday I was hopeful that the heat would be mitigated by the sub-zero air con of the Javits convention centre. I was sorely mistaken. Their a/c, like that of several places I'd been over the weekend, seemed to have broken just in time for the heatwave. With the a/c off over the weekend and just getting restarted Monday morning as thousands of delegates from the licensing industry arrived to turn on their high-powered lights and heat-emitting electronic gadgets, it was not a pleasant day even in out of the sun and humidity.

That aside, it was great to see New York again. I think that London is still my top choice for cities but, given the opportunity (and the cash) I could definitely see myself living in an apartment in Soho, Tribeca or Greenwich Village for a year or two. Especially if some kind, benevolent god decided to keep paying me in Sterling as it was SO cheap with the 2:1 exchange rate!

I also took the opportunity to indulge in french toast and crispy bacon breakfasts almost daily (very hard if not impossible to come by decent renditions of these in London) and stock up on only-in-American kinds of horrid yet irresistible treats like Combos.

It would be impossible to blog this trip without also giving a 'shout out' to US Customs who, in a ballsy and (I think) somewhat naive manner, provide a visitor visa form featuring the following questions, accompanied by yes and no check boxes -- see which ones you'd check 'yes' for:

Do any of the following apply to you?

A. Do you have a communicable disease; physical or mental disorder; or are you a drug abuser or addict?

B. Have you ever been arrested or convicted for an offense or crime involving moral turpitude [How many people completing this form could define moral turpitude?] or a violation related to a controlled substance... ; or are you seeking entry to engage in criminal or immoral activites?

C. Have you ever been or are you now involved in espionage or sabotage; or in terrorist activities; or genocide; or between 1933 and 1945 were involved, in any way, in persectuions associated with Nazi Germany or its allies?

... and it goes on.

I assume that saying 'yes' to any of these on the form is either completely unexpected by the customs people or may make them more kindly predisposed to not chucking your butt back on the first plane in the other direction.

Lucky for me marketing children's TV shows isn't considered a crime involving moral turpitude... at least by the US government.

Just got back from a fab long weekend with the parental units and some friends in Hastings. Always a bit strange to spend time on holiday with my family since we haven't done it in ... oh, ten years or so?

This weekend was particularly surreal as Hastings was hosting their annual May Day celebrations, the Jack-in-the-Green festival, where, all weekend, Morris Dancers and musical groups in fancy dress danced around the town and the celebrations culminated in the 'Jack' being sacrificed. Despite the colourful, amazing costumes (although some of the people appeared blacked up... ) and crazy 'Giants' (papier mache creatures), it struck me as less festive and more Wickerman-esque. It gave me the creeps!

Also bizarre was going down to the local where we found the most boring stag do ever in progress -- and they proceeded to try to pull me and my friend Cath... despite an age gap of about 15 years and then still even after we introduced them to our fathers. In fact, they had a pretty good chat with our dads, too! At the time it was hilarious but as is always the way when getting drunk in front of one's parents, resulted in many cringe-worthy memories and, thanks to my mom, photographic evidence.

But, aside from that, or to be honest, at least in part because of it, the weekend was great -- very entertaining, lots of local 'colour' and, best of all, sunny. Finally!

Completely dreading having to go back to work tomorrow but I did treat myself to some super cute red shoes on the weekend which will, hopefully, make Tuesday morning feel a bit more festive.

Summer has gone, barely visiting the shores of the UK this year except to share a few boozy weekends and the occasional rays of sun and mild days. Like a friend you haven't seen in too long who can't stay for more than a quick chat, it's a deep contrast to the past couple of years of heat-wave-filled weeks and stinking Tube journeys that left us wanting to show summer the door, like the guest who's overstayed his welcome.

With such a lack of heat and sunshine, September has snuck up on me. It can't possibly be fall, my brain says. We haven't even had a proper summer yet!

But it's true and the untimely arrival of September has suddenly made me a bit melancholy and wistful for the days when, rain or shine, the biggest sign-post of autumn was the return to classes. It's a bit ironic, since I never really relished the back-to-school period when I was in school. The joy of seeing old friends who'd been away working or holidaying over the summer was tinged with the regret of having to shuck off flipflops, freckles and freedom and exchange it all for heavier sweaters, hefty bags of text books and the pastiness that comes with being indoors, crammed behind a tiny desk for another nine months.

Maybe it's the fact that my graduating class is having their five year reunion in three weeks. Maybe it's just that I'm looking for any excuse to splash out on a new wardrobe. Whatever it is, I'm seriously missing that tangible crossing from one season to another. Instead, tomorrow, I'll return to my fluorescent-lit desk, unchanging and without regard for the outside world and its seasons.