No Brute Force

Despite being an obvious asset to the Australian people and government, my working eligibility will cease on January 21, 2009 when my 12 month working holiday visa expires. This fact has had my mind spinning for the past several weeks as it dawned on me that I don't want to leave... and don't anticipate wanting to leave 6 months from now either. I won't stay forever, but whatever force drew me here in the first place is now tossing strings around my ankles and luring me to stay. This bothers me a bit as I miss my family and my "peeps" and several other things which I'll elaborate on momentarily... but I stopped arguing with my gut instincts (no matter how ludicrous they sometimes seem) a year ago and I'm not about to go back on that now.
So. Darsh took Rrrrraphael and me to see an immigration lawyer today and after an hour of him giving expensive/time consuming/disruptive/awful options (ie: being owned by the government, being owned by a business, being schooled in hairstyling, paying $18,000 a year for a masters), and me telling him various options I'd entertained (getting married, agreeing to live in Darwin for 2 years, being beat up by an Australian man (for real. instant residency.) ) he developed a sense of humor and tossed off a few of the more "dodgy ways" that immigrants remain in this fine country.
Sailing school was a serious consideration until he remembered that it was in Tasmania.
Brick laying? nah.
tax evasion? no thanks.
Kung Fu school? ...What's that you say? 20 hours a week of mandatory physical activity that costs a measly $4000 a year, has no homework, lets me come and go from the country, and allows me to retain my current job and strange array of other activities? Interesting move, God. I just might take you up on that.

http://www.wingchun.com.au/
ya think?
It remains to be seen but if I stay you should probably take me seriously when I say I'll kick your ass if you don't visit.

A plush (and nearly dead?) treasure outside the lawyer's office at Bondi Junction:

Born in Nevers, France

Is that a stethoscope in your pocket?