In this strange complex of time and space anything can happen

I queued for The Book last night, as planned, and all was good - despite both the rain and Waterstone's bizarre attempts to turn the world's simplest and most effective system for ensuring that everyone is served in a fair order (viz., The Queue) into a confused mess by super-imposing a numbered ticketing system onto it without offering any clear explanation of how this was supposed to work. Enjoyed immensely turning to the back and skimming hastily through relevant-looking pages right there in the shop to establish the major plot points, sproingled rather randomly and over-tiredly at nalsa and his lady for a while, and finally got home with it about 1:30ish (yes, Waterstone's were inefficient as well - I heartily wish I'd pre-ordered at WHSmith instead). I ploughed on with The Half-Blood Prince for a while, which I'd been reading all day in an attempt to get back up to speed, but I was pretty near the end of it anyway, and after an hour or so I couldn't resist the pull of the new one any longer. So I retired to bed with it around 3ish, intending to just read a chapter or two and then go to sleep, but didn't actually put it down until 5:30 and the end of chapter 7. Well, I couldn't stop reading while they were all still... No. I promised you no spoilers, didn't I?

Since then, though, I've only got as far as chapter 12, due to sleeping until 1 and then attending a lovely party at miss_dark's all afternoon. So I've accepted that I'm not going to finish it with the speed of the last one - but that's OK. Like I said, I know what happens, so I can read other people's posts about it quite merrily. And anyway, why should I rush it? It's the last one, after all. I want to enjoy it at my own snail-like pace.

Besides, it would clearly be a very bad idea to stay up all night tonight trying to finish it, as I realised on Friday that I've been ill for a few days, and my parents are coming up to Leeds again tomorrow to help with house stuff, so I need to be well-rested and compos mentis before they do. I'm not quite sure what was wrong with me, but I'm guessing it was basically down to performing an incredibly intensive mental task followed by an incredibly intensive physical task, not giving myself enough time to recover, and probably also eating something a bit dodgy. I think I'm on the mend now, but tired, what with that and the reading-till-dawn thing, so I don't want to push my luck.

Happily, I was in good health and spirits this afternoon to enjoy miss_dark's 'Three Years With dedbutdrmng' party, though, which was a jolly good thing as it was ace! miss_dark's flat turned out to be a splendid palace, whose walls were lined with shoes, and she had done an excellent job of filling it full of splendid people for the afternoon. I didn't get to chat to everyone there, but I enjoyed the company of familiar faces, and met some fab new people - including the marvellously history-geeky vonheath, whom I think I shall dash off and friend once I've finished writing this. There were also small children with bubbles, three nearly-identical cats and a cracking anecdote about a bracelet which miss_dark had bought for ms_siobhan. So an excellent way to spend the afternoon, and I only hope my house-warming goes as well!

On the basis that I have been dragging myself out of my sick bed all week to teach people, last night I decided that I was damn well going to drag myself out to do something for me instead. So I went out to a late showing of The Wicker Man at the Queen's Film Theatre with captainlucy. The bargain was that if I was still awake at 11pm, and had a temperature of anything under 38, I would go. Well, I made sure I was awake (not too hard, with the prospect of a Wicker Man screening at stake), and the thermometer said 37.9, so I downed some Neurofen and off I went.

( Longer version vs. shorter version )

( Always something new to spot )

At the end of the film, I worried for a moment that I might have seen the powerful and chilling climactic scene enough times now that it wouldn't really have much effect on me. But I needn't have. My mouth fell open with the sheer emotional impact of what was happening, and both of us sat still in our seats afterwards, gaping and silent in wonder.

Meanwhile, today I am a little tired thanks to staying up until nearly 2am. But I had the best night's sleep I've had in ages, and woke up with a normal temperature! Maybe it was the restorative power of The Wicker Man, or maybe rather I was able to go out to The Wicker Man last night because I am genuinely starting to feel better. But either way, I think there is a real chance now that I am finally recuperating. A little more rest over the weekend, and I hope I'll be properly back on my feet again.

About to be substantially cross-posted to christopherlee_