Well It's Saturday afternoon, really I shouldn't be awake right now, having got in at five in the morning, yesterday was one of those days where for the first half I would have done better if I'd just stayed in bed. But more of that later, I've got three days to catch up on. Don't panic though, I'm sure it won't be as long as the last couple of blogs. Though that said, I always say that and then get carried away. Anyway, here goes.

Wednesday

Well Valentine's day brought an empty post box, not even a valentine's email, Though I was woken with a phone call from an anonymous number, a secret admirer maybe? No, Val From Rawhide confirming I was still performing on Thursday which I was, and it's always lovely to hear from Val, her voice just always cheers me up. The day was a bit busy anyway, For a presentation next week I had to watch On the Waterfront wiht Marlon Brando, I'd not seen it before and it was ace, one of those films that gets you in the mood to be creative. By the time I'd seen it though I only had a short time in which to get ready and head off down to Tewkesbury, the Sat Nav told me she thought it would take 1hr 33mins, but knowing the way I drive two hours would be about right. My Friend Lyn who I was keeping me company had split up with her partner about this time last week, so I got her some flowers and a card reading "Let's be bitter spinsters together". This seemed to cheer her up a bit.

The drive was uneventful just catching up, and then we got there and it's a lovely place, like being in an episode of Midsommer Murders, but without the incredibly high murder rate. Actually I don't know about that, I've not checked the statistics, it may well have. The theatre where the gig was looked a bit posh, and was oposite the Scout Hut (during the first interval the scouts left their hut and got picked up having grown up in a small village near a town with a bit of a heroin problem this sort of place felt like it didn't belong to me, it was too nice, a bit stepford wives-ey.).

Getting into the gig the average age of the audience was higher than I'm used to, and a combination of that and the town we were in gave me visions of the Woodford Royal British Legion gig that I did fairly late on last year. I'd been MCing the Kinklusive event all day, which was great fun, the biggest collection of S&M practitioners in the North West, wall-to-wall perverts. You know. My kind of people, as Michael Barrymore might say, and he allegedly fisted a man to death. It was fun but a bit of a weird one, well any gig where I bare my arse and stick a ringing mobile phone up my hoop deserves the title "Weird" Made worse by the fact the gig started at 10 in the morning after I'd been out at Club Lash until 4 in the morning, so the early start played havoc with my digestion. I hope the phone's owner cleaned it, or at least hasn't since died from some strange illness.

Anyway I'd been doing this gig all day, and was then giving my very close personal showbiz friend Jonathan Mayor a lift to the gig and I was just going to watch, as it happened one of the acts had got stuck on a train that hadn't moved for three hours so I was asked to be the last minute replacement. Sometimes when Jonathan and I get put on a bill together, if I've to follow him my act suffers a bit, I don't know why, maybe some audiences aren't prepared to have two large homosexuals wearing lots of makeup and strange clothes on the same bill. This was one of those cases. I think it was something to do with not switching gears from the earlier gig and just going for it, offending most of the audience in the process. Though I think that if I was to do that again I'd know how to deal with it better.

Meanwhile, back at the gig Lyn's saying to me "Dude, they're going to hate you!" to which my response was "Yep, it'll be fine though!" I was on just before Sean Percival who was headlining, and the audience were quite subdued, I got to see Iszi Lawrence for the first time and I really like her work she was ace. But then I had to go on, in my biker boots and PVC trousers it was difficult to sneak round to the best place to get on stage. I don't know if you've ever tried to sneak in PVC trousers, if you watch the film Razor Blade Smile, it's not possible, hence the truely descerning Vampire wouldn't wear leather or PVC, also they'd learn how to speak with the big teeth, aside from that it's a cracking movie.

Anyway my name was called and I walked out the microphone and could feel the tension in the room, they'd taken against me before I'd opened my mouth. But this game's all about tension and release, and my opening line managed to break the tension, by the time I'd got to what the Lovely Mr Bennet who owns this site describes as my first "Sapphic double-entendre" there was the first belly laugh. Ken Dodd is right about that, once you've got your first belly laugh out of them they're yours and it takes quite some effort to lose them after that. The audience were lovely and really went with everything right up to the end when I thought I'd got them on side enough to do one of my favourite stories, which is about the darkest thing I've ever written, and true, and I learned a valuable lesson, don't leave on a story about a successful suicide, after a couple more one liners and acknowledging that I'd offended them they were back on side and I got a lovely response when I left the stage.

Outside having a cigarette in the interval a couple of the audience members said "Aw we can't talk about you now." So I sarted fake bitching about myself, "She's not really a lesbian, it's just for comedy effect." and stuff like that, they didn't join in, if anything I think they took it as a show of a lack of self esteem.

After the show the journey home was punctuated, just before midnight of Lyn's observation, which is universally true that the second you split up with someone every song on the radio that you listen to becomes a pointed reference to you, she said this as James Blunt, You're beautiful was on the radio. And I know lots of people have said it before but it's true when you're in that mindset it does speak to you like that and it can be anything, the hokey cokey "[sobbing] Michelle used to put her left arm in! [cries uncontrolably] I put forward this theory too, and said I'd make it relevant to the next song and my ex. The next song just happened to be Norah Jones with Don't know why I didn't come... [insert the punchline here] From then on in after midnight Heart FM played suicide watch with pointed songs about broken hearts and lost love.

Thursday

This morning I was woken by my mum calling having got back from France where her and my dad have been since the beginning of January trying to get their house sorted so that as soon as this place is sold they can move there. Apparently the lovely Lesbian couple who came and had a look round the other week were interested in buying the house. I guessing it didn't have anything to do with me having just woken up when they called round, from thinking I looked a little bi like Liv Tyler the previous night, at that time on a Saturday morning there was no denying I looked more like Steven Tyler, but I rushed round tidying up littel bits and pieces repeating "My mum'll murder me." It was only as they were leaving I realised that the top I'd been wearing was The same one I'd been wearing last week when a similar thing happened, only that time the estate agent didn't know there was anyone in the house and screamed as she went into my room to find me asleep there. The top I'd slept in was slightly see through, and with no bra on, at least I think I entertainedboth couples who came to see the house.

it was a day of mixed emotions really, I went out for a little dander with my ex as she went to buy some stuff from the butchers and Kwik Save, and when we got home we made a fry up, her girlfriend won't leave her room when I'm in the house, and I tried to chat with my ex, but it felt a little like pulling teeth, when I mentioned this, the events of a couple of weeks earlier were discussed and it upset me to realise that that was definately it. What I'd done was not only unforgivable but that it'd meant that the only positive thing I still got from our relationship, someone to talk to about stuff, had gone. Realising this upset me and I cried a bit, then got told off for being selfish, as if I was doing it to upset her. I think she thinks that I cry all the time, I don't. It's only when I'm with her, or when I talk to her on the phone. Relationships don't work when they're unbalanced, and realising that she never cared for me even half as much as I cared for her is one of those things that really hurts still. But there's nothing I can do to alter that. And that's how friendships end, without fanfare, without the big blow out, it's the slow realisation that you no longer have anything to offer each other.

I needed to be with Dug, he's always there for me and he's always got something to say or do that'll pick me up, so I headed over to his on the way to Liverpool and we talked about the gigs we'd had the previous night, he'd been to a lovely gig in York the previous night, where as is traditional he'd stormed it from start to finish and the promoter had asked him back to headline. In under 30 gigs he's managed to get paid 20's in various different places, The holy grail for open spots. I can't wait to see how he develops as time goes on. So after a quick cup of tea and a chat I was back on form. Listening to the Chicago Soundtrack in the car on the way, and singing along put my mind back into the place it needed to be.

About a year ago I watched the film, I'd heard all the songs before but never really been interested in watching it, not a big fan of Catherine Zeta Jones nor of Richard Gere, but it was late at night and it was the only thing on Sky Movies. There was a line that stuck with me from watching it that I now realise works as an affirmation. In fact it was upon repeating this line to Jonathan Mayor that got him to give me a book on affirmations, and it was this book that changed the way I look at the whole world, and which has since November made my life that much better and my consistency when gigging that much better. The line in the show seemed to sum up my feelings about how you should approach going on stage and it's this: "I'm a star and that audience loves me, and I love them, and they love me for loving them and I love them for loving me, and we love eachother, and that's because none of us got enough love in our childhoods, and that's showbiz. Kid."

Before I knew it my Sat Nav had guided me to my destination, cutting out about 45 minutes of getting lost in the city centre and the usual stress and considering phoning the venue to say "I'm lost, I'm not coming in, I'm just going home!"

Lots of comics say that they hate playing Liverpool, there's a feeling that whilst other towns and cities are cool with you taking the piss they're not, and as much as every town and city in the country is parochial and hates the town down the road, Liverpool seems to hate them even more. Every time I've played Liverpool before I've always got a bit of a muted response, I've never really died, I've just not had that big response that I've managed to get in other places.

I think that before Thursday night I've never had the confidence to actually break away from my ususal set to try out some geographically based material. But tonight I was going to do that, tonight I was going to address where I was, that my mum is from Liverpool, and a couple of other things about the place. As it happened it worked really well. I love playing to big audiences, and though it was a quiet Thursday night with about 140 people in they really went with it, loads of applause breaks and in the end I only managed to get through about 6 minutes of material in the 10 minutes I was on stage.

It was how I imagine playing a club in the US must be, I've spoken to a number of comics from the states about the differences in audience. I was told apparently the MCs in the US don't get the audiences to cheer and applaud, they don't get someone to be cheerleader, none of that stuff they just say the name of the act and the audience go wild.

One act asked me why it was comperes in this country do that, the response is simple "If they don't, no one will applaud. Over here there's the attitude with some audiences of 'OK, make me laugh dick head, I bet you're not funny.' Whereas in the states they're impressed and expect you to be good when you go on stage."

The reason for the comparison with Liverpool is that I've watched a great deal of wrestling, in terms of entertainment and working with a live audience I think it's the closest thing to stand-up comedy, you build up the audience and then take them down, you take them on a journey, tell them a story and then build towards the set piece finalé. And the reason for making this comparison with Liverpool is seeing that when the wrestlers mention the town that they're in there's a huge pop from the audience, and it kind of felt like that in Liverpool, a town with such a huge sense of civic pride. When I mentioned Liverpool there was a cheer, when I mentioned that they'd got capital of culture there was another cheer, when I mentioned the Beatles there was a round of applause, and when I mentioned the women walking the streets in their pyjamas they loved it. They booed when I mentioned Manchester and it was like pantomime. It's true that the more love and attention an audience gives you the more you can work off it, and this was one of my favourite gigs so far this year.

Out in the bar at the interval it was lovely too, though there's the thing that I always get awkward about a group of girls came over to talk to me telling me how much they'd enjoyed the show, saying "I normally hate female comics but you were brilliant. That's a compliment." They wanted me to go with them to a club afterwards, but I said no. They also did that thing of saying how they'd not liked one of the other acts, conspiratorially as if I had to agree with them, I just told them that I'd not seen them as I was getting ready. I never know how to react to this, even if I'm not a big fan of their work I like to stick up for them, as anyone who gets up on that stage deserves respect for doing that. Though if they keep on going and stinking up the place without learning how to get a little bit better my patience does wear a little thin.

After the break I sat at the back on my own watching the Headliner Reginald D. Hunter, who I'd only ever seen do a short spot at Maxwell's Full Mooners in Edinburgh. I'd not met Reg before that, and my friend Matt Reed had said to me, "I don't care what your persuasion is, when he talks to you you'll just melt." Before telling me a story about how he'd made Danny Deegan giggle like a school girl, and how he's said to Matt "you're cooler than the other side of the pillow." and made him blush. Both of these guys are straight, as is Reg, and I thought this must be bollocks, then that night in Edinburgh I got introduced to him and his opening line in his Atlanta drawl was "wow girl, you've got the kind of voice, you could say anything and I'd believe you." cue blushes and an "aw thanks", he'd managed to take the thing I'm most paranoid about, my voice, and make it into a positive.

After he'd left the stage I went to say hi to him and he was a smooth as ever, and we had a chat about stuff I asked him how his show was going, apparently it's not started on tour yet, and we just talked about stuff, I told him about how I keep on managing to get into arguments and fights and he said "you know, some people have this energy about them, something that other people find confusing, and they don't know what to do with it, and I guess you just take them back to that school age 'I don't know what to do with this, I think I'll hit it.'"

Brendan Reilly, who'd been compereing walked me back to my car as we chatted about the night and he gave me some positive feed back and was really encouraging, saying that since he'd last seen me he felt like I'd come on a few steps and was ready for the gigs I've been mistakenly thinking I was ready for for the last year or so.

The day ended great getting home late and climbing into bed I knew everything was going to be alright.

Friday

I wake up at about 1pm, that sort of slow wakign up where you doze and decide that you need more sleep, but have too much, this isn't helped by the fact I still can't sleep on my left hand side due to the torn muscle I got nearly a month ago now. I eventually get up and head down stairs a little groggy but ready to face the day. after a cup of tea and a cigarette, realising that there's only my Ex and her girlfriend in the house, which means they won't be out of bed until dehydration means that they need something to drink so they don't stick together forever drives them out of there I decide to pack up my stuff and get out of there for the weekend. As I'm doing so my flatmate Ciaran comes home, so whilst I'm picking up stuff I walk through the lounge and say "Hi" to which he doesn't respond. He's not spoken to me since the second week of January, apparently I intimidate him. That I don't mind, intimidating people is good, it's scaring people that's bad, at least if you intimidate them they respect you. Anyway I've apologised for shouting at him, but in my defence he is a lazy bastard.

Before I leave I have a shower and as I'm doing so realise that because of not remembering to moisturise for the last week or so, due to my boob job, I've started to get stretch marks. Turns out I was right when I got those topless photos done, that was the best I'm ever going to look. after that I start gathering my stuff together and get dressed.

I pack the stuff into the car and head on down to the university where I was supposed to do my blog, I got as far as the petrol station and decided to fill up the car, as I paid on my card I realised I didn't have any cash to pay for my library fines that I'd have to pay before the university would let me take out any more books.

I go to the cash point and check my balance, I'm about £500 shorter than I thought I was which nearly sends me off into a panic. I keep calm repeating "my prosperity is growing" and "Money flows through my life in ever greater abundance." and that works, right up until I go and get into my car and put my foot down on the clutch and there's no give in the pedal. Nothing.

I get out and check under the bonnet. Like that's going to help, I'm useless with cars, beyond colour and what it looks like I've no idea. I head into the shop to tell them that my car's broken down and the lovely old guy behind the counter says "what's up with it?" I say "The clutch has gone." he says "here, I'll check." we then walk to the car and he gets in and tries it. "The clutch has gone." He tells me as if I'd gone in whimpering "The magic's not working in the horseless carriage!"

I try to call my mum, no answer, my dad's mobile is switched off as usual "Saving the battery". I call my sister, she doesn't know where they are. I realise that there's a booklet with breakdown recovery back at the house, so I walk for 10 minutes in the rain back there, find it, call them and then head back out to the garage.

All the while I'm repeating "I'm perfectly adequate for any situation the unverse throws at me." but slightly thinking that it's time to write off the day "This is an old thought, there is no place for this anymore. The universe provides for me in every eventuality. My prosperity is growing."

As I get to the garage my mobile starts to ring and it's someone from Trent FM, apparently there aren't enough entrants for their competition to win £1,000 so I've got a buy through to the final. my prosperity is growing about two minutes later the guy with the tow truck turns up and has a look at the car. "you're clutch hasn't gone, nor has the cable snapped, the pin that holds it to the foot pedal's come lose." the universe provides for me in every eventuallity. He mends it with a cable tie and tells me that it should be under warranty from Ford and that it should cost nothing to get it mended properly when I get to the nearest ford garage.

I'm three hours behind on the day and so I just get the books, pay the fine and head off to Dug's, we were going to go over some writing but before we did that we needed some milk. While we were out we got a pizza from Sommerfield, after that for some reason we both fell asleep.

I woke up at 8, just in time for a repeat of Dr Who, The Girl in the Fireplace, which was my second favourite episode from the last series, after Love and Monsters, which is apparently a contentious thing to say infront of most Who fans. I just love the Line "One may tolerate a world of Demons for the sake of an Angel."

This however wasn't good as I was supposed to be meeting up with a very sexy lady-friend of mine at about 8:30, and on top of everything else that day I was just not int he mood, but a cup of tea later and I was ready to head on out.

We met in the loudest, tiniest sweatiest bar in Chorlton, rammed to the rafters with lesbians of all shapes and sizes. we chatted for hours and time just flew by, when the bar closed we headed up to the village and after realising that Vanilla was too loud and a bit threatening, you know a weird energy, we headed off to Coyotes. Stood at the endof the bar, me steadfastly refusing to dance my friend went off to the dancefloor, and of course a guy decided to talk to me.

He was a wee baldy man from the North of Ireland who looked at me and said "you know, you need to find a soul mate, then you're in heaven, and when you do don't let them go. Remember, you'll think they're too good to be true, or that you don't deserve them, but you do." It all got a bit David Lynch for my liking, firstly I thought he couldn't have existed. Then realised that he did, and pissed as he was he was lovely to talk to, and interesting, telling me about how he'd been kidnapped and tortured by the IRA in the early 1970s. I tried to hide the rosary beads attached to my purse when I bought a drink after that. He was like a magical little pixie, he gave advice then asked questions about what the most amazing thing we'd seen was, real soulful questions. Then having done that, gave us a horse racing tip, and buggered off.*

Later I headed back to my friend's house and it was beautiful, the kind of place I'd love to have one day, she also drives my dream car. These are the sort of things, along with her having a proper job and actually being really really lovely that make me think that my world is very different to hers and I feel uneasy about that. That however is all my problem and not hers.

Leaving there at 5 in the morning I smiled most of the way home. I'd had a great night salvaged form the crappy start that it'd had.

Tonight I get to meet up with my friends Carrie and Cary who I've not seen for too long, and then roll on tomorrow and the final of the Midlands Comedian of the year competition in Leicester. my prosperity is growing

As I finished my set the other night in Liverpool; Love is the thing that will save us all.

I love you all with all my heart.

*The horse came third.

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