18th Century Girl

I’ve discovered a worrying side-effect of my re-launched fitness campaign: regular bouts of fainting and vomiting.

It’s not just concerning, it’s quite embarrassing to triumphantly clamber off the exercise bike after notching up 20 miles, or complete a series of poses on the power-plate, and then stagger  sideways for a few steps before crumpling, I suspect not terribly gracefully, to the ground.

I’m hoping that it’s related to the temperature or dehydration, rather than anything ominous like high blood pressure or anaemia, a jaunt to the doctor’s should ascertain that. What i CAN rule out, as I’ve barked more times than I care to count in the past seven days, is the patter of teeny, tiny feet, and I sincerely hope that my doctor doesn’t ask me the same question.

The art of self control

So this is what happened earlier. I got a shiny cheque in the post for some work I did last month and I scuttled off to the bank to pay it in like a good little girl.

Then I toddled off to Argos to buy a new hairdryer since mine caught fire (I’m ok, hair slightly singed). It was reduced by £12, this delighted me, so I spent the difference (and a little bit more) on a new silver chain bracelet to thread my charms and beads onto after mine broke.

Then I strode purposefully back to my car, via Dorothy Perkins, where I caught sight of a rather lovely pair of patent shoes. I have a 25th anniversary meal this weekend, a client’s fashion show next weekend, and then a birthday (mine!) so I felt I could probably justify all of £30 for them. And £22 for the matching bag.

That’s all though. Then I got in the car and I came straight home. Won’t happen again, guv.

Witch watching

I’ve just watched the trailer for the final instalments of the Harry Potter movie series. It looks amazing, I got goosebumps and my eyes prickled with tears – and it’s only two and a half minutes long.

November 19th will see the first part of the Deathly Hallows released, with its conclusion not landing in cinemas until July 2011. I have high, high hopes for it. If I’d had my way, the Half Blood Prince would have been divided too; I was so disappointed at how much had to be cut from my favourite book of the series, and every time I watch it, I lament the loss of some of the scenes I think were vital.

JK Rowling is my heroine. I am in absolute awe of her creativity and imagination. Last night I started re-reading the series (I do this every year) and even know I know every twist and turn in the plot, I still seek little clues and hints to impress myself, as well as the red herrings – I remember telling everyone who would listen (both of them) how Ollivander was an anagram of An Evil Lord, and (spoiler alert) he wasn’t. There you go.

From the moment I read the opening lines of The Philosopher’s Stone, I was hooked, and on three occasions I queued up at midnight to get the final three books in the series and didn’t go to bed, such was my desire to find out what happened next.

When I closed the Deathly Hallows, I actually felt bereft. I am voracious reader and have read countless chronicles, but nothing, from Enid Blyton’s Famous Five and CS Lewis’s Chronicles of Narnia to Larsson’s Millennium Trilogy or Tolkein’s Lord of the Rings, has made me sit there wondering what the hell I’m going to read next and how it can possibly compare.

Already having watched the last movie I know that so much won’t and can’t be adhered to from the Deathly Hallows, but that won’t stop me being more excited by its release than anything else since the Half Blood Prince. Just 78 days to wait…