This week I have not just one, but two new books out. For a start, this has meant answering the door to the florist burdened with an enormous bunch of flowers from my publishers, not just once, daaaahlings, but twice!

Two bouquets on different days! How diva-ish is that?! I feel as if I should be reclining in a pink ball gown eating chocolates to do my flowers full justice.

But as always, real life gets in the way and I actually spent one publication morning rushing to the doctor’s with Sam because he’s had a strangely sore tummy for several days. Although the word appendicitis was flashing in my mind, our very nice GP assured us that it almost certainly wasn’t and now in my handbag I have a plastic sample bottle with a little plastic spoon attached to the lid. I think all the Mummies reading this know what that’s going to involve. Oh joy.

No, in fact there was some lounging on a velvet sofa in a pink dress for a photo shoot with The Sunday Times Scotland. We did the pictures in this highly glamorous boutique called Cruise and it just seemed rude not to try their beautiful clothes on.

So before you could say Prada, I was on the couch in a clingy Vivienne Westwood frock and fantasy shoes: the only pair that could be found in my size were Dior, gold, six inch, python, peep toes. Fortunately the photo doesn’t show the hideously un-pedicured state of my feet nor the rhino hide I seem to have developed on my knees. Phew!

Anyway, it is very exciting to see piles of Late Night Shopping in so many places… Woolworths, Waterstones, Borders. I just hope YOU, my lovely, lovely readers, like it. A lot of people grew very fond of Annie as they read The Personal Shopper and I really hope you’re going to enjoy her second book of adventures just as much.

Now get out there and buy a copy or two… or three!

Yes, I know we’re all Sex And The Citied out. We’ve seen the girls on every cover of every magazine, we’ve read enough interviews with SJP to be able to write her biography off by heart (‘I keep fit by running up and down the stairs of my house… I can’t even blow dry my own hair,’ Oh please!)

But still the film was fabulous, was it not? I’ve seen it twice and I went to a SATC party, so I think that makes me a groupie.

I’ve loved SATC since series one when Miranda wore Gap, Carrie wore second hand and they did those random street polls about finding love in New York.

At the time (1998) I’d just had my first baby so I was shopping in Mothercare and SATC was pure escapism. Could it have been less like my life? No. I was in. I was married. I was stone cold sober, and not getting a lot of action in the small hours, apart from nappy changing.

But that was the fun of it. I still believe the most devoted SATC fans are happily married, tracksuit-wearing mums, who just want a weekly dose of how the other half lives. To remind us why we’re just fine where we are, thanks.

The best things about the series:

* The friendships. You believe that these women are there for the thick and thin, more like family than friends. Everyone needs friends like this.

* The clothes, of course. According to SATC, when you’re a grown up you deserve to spend a little bit more on yourself. Although the great big Prada hairy handbags may have been a shopping spree too far…

* The sex info, thank you very much. Everything I know about sex I’ve learned from Samantha.

* The girl power! Are the foursome not proof that women in their 40s and 50s are interesting, witty and sexy with a host of opportunities and choices open to them? And we can buy our own diamonds and apartments, thank you very much. I never liked that whole Mr Big: ‘I’ve got it covered, baby.’

* The fun! Let’s face it, for previous generations of women, life didn’t look so good after the wedding day. From then on, you were consigned to childcare, housework, elasticated waistbands and frumpy shoes. In SATC, there is no settling! These girls want the best shoes, the best clothes and the best men. And they’re not going to let their waistlines or bikini lines go either. It’s impossible not to want to cheer them on from the sidelines!

Obviously, like Carrie Bradshaw, I’m a ‘writerrrr’ but to my husband’s distress, I do not sit at my laptop in evening gowns or lingerie. I’ve promised him I will do that, just as soon as he drives around town in his own personal chauffeur driven limousine.

Some of my SATC inspired purchases over the years: the corset top, pointy red boots, fake flower and impressive sparkly ring.

Everyone I know left the film lusting after something, for me it was the teensy diamond studs in Carrie’s ears (thank you Claire’s Accessories).

I did love that Carrie looked truly rubbish after the break-up and did Bad Things to her Hair. (Been there, done that!) Plus she wore a few duff outfits as well, to prove that fashionistas take risks and can’t always get it right: I mean, grey thermals under a silk nightie… what was that about?!!

After enduring two weeks of that unique radio channel only painters know about, is it Radio Decorator? All the non-stop, back-to-back hits you prayed you’d forgotten about from the 70s and 80s… (‘Gloria! Gloria!’, ‘I want to break free…’) Well, after two whole weeks of that, we are definitely entering the DIY phase. Most of the rest of the wallpaper stripping and painting will be done by us. There goes my manicure. (No, I’m only saying that to make my friends fall about laughing…)

I did once have a manicure, only to wreck it when I took out my purse to pay. Manicure pros apparently pay first… so why didn’t the beautician warn me?!

Anyway, Annie Valentine’s next instalment of adventures (think Italy, think handbag and shoe capital of Europe) is now on the final copy-editing stage and is due out in a very sparkly cover in June.

Purely in the interests of research, I decided I’d better get onto ebay and find out what it is all about… just for Annie’s sake. Oh boy! Is it not completely addictive? Slightly like drugs, horses and cigarettes all bundled up together.

There’s the thrill of finding gorgeous, gorgeous things you would never have had the nerve to pay full price for, floating about at the kind of prices Primark charge. Then there’s the haggle to buy them.

Bizarrely, I’ve found myself drawn to the shoe listings. Bizarre, because in real life, I’m not much of a one for shoes. I have size 8 feet and this used to be such a trauma to shop for, I think I was scarred for life. However, on ebay, you can just type in size 8 and hundreds and hundreds of shoes, all in your size, pop up.

Which is how I ended up with the green… snakeskin… wait for it… Prada shoes.

Oh yes! Eat your heart out, Carrie Bradshaw.

I’ve had to watch some old SATC episodes lately just to prepare myself for the film coming out in May. (Can the SATC film possibly be as good as we really, really hope it will be? Will Carrie marry Big? And would that be a good thing? I don’t like the idea of a married Carrie with matching silverware, a summer house in the Hamptons, a philandering husband – because you know he will – and a weekly column about hostessing.)

Other things I’m doing this month:

Making a trip to the flicks for The Other Boleyn Girl with my pals.

Checking out my friend Ronda’s glitzy blog

Still dragging myself to the gym (much more fun if your ipod’s on random… stomach crunches to Shirley Bassey, anyone?!)