Listening to: Def Leppard
Reading: Kristan Higgins, Just One of the Guys (I really was beginning to wonder if the HEA was what I expected it to be – the nearer it got to the end of the book, the more I kept turning the pages, panicking on the heroine’s behalf… very nicely done, and I loved the way she handled it. Can’t wait for her new one, later this month – she’s on my pre-order and autobuy list, and thank you so much Lynne Marshall for recommending her to me)
I’ve been telling the folks for the last six weeks that I’m changing my hair colour. Radically. Nobody quite believed me. I almost wussed out, because I’ve been blonde for 45 years and, although I’ve had highlights and red streaks before, I’ve never had a total colour change.
And I really have been blonde that long. Proof: me at age two, with my dad. (Yes, that is a real 1960s skirt, isn't it?)
And at age 20, with my mum. (Hmm. I was thin, then. Walking a mile or so each way to uni. Hmm. Note to self. Walk more. Oh, and my hair wasn't highlighted then. Is all natural.)
But I needed a lift yesterday (this coughing business isn’t good) and decided to Just Do It. Not with highlights, but the whole kit and caboodle. Complete colour change. (Louise has a very good eye and picked a colour that suited me.)
It’s going to take a while for the family to get used to it. Daughter hates it, son says it’s OK, DH is wary and says it’s ‘all right’ (which could mean anything from ‘it’s awful’ to ‘it’s gorgeous and I have THAT twinkle in my eye’ – DH is the most laid-back person ever. Which means I don’t actually know what he thinks). Dad would’ve had a hissy fit. Mum would’ve bolstered my confidence and told me I looked lovely and she loved me. (That’s my parenting style too, I hope. There are kind ways of saying ‘no, it doesn’t suit you’, without stamping on people’s confidence.)
Me? Well, I like it. My hair is actually shiny! :o)
But this photo is also a wake-up call, because I thought myself a bit too plump in the author photo I use now – and OMG I look so thin in that, in comparison with the one above that son took for me last night. The exercise routine has to be a priority, once I’ve stopped coughing and can breathe easily again. (Would be VERY stupid to exercise with stridor and a seal-like bark.)
Time to get the very bad case of Writers’ Blubber under control. And I have a good exercise routine, sent to me by a very good friend (who is now officially TINY and I probably won't recognise her at the M&B author lunch next week). No more excuses.