It's a week away from the end of the universityyear for me, I've got three essays due in in a weeks time with a combined word count of 8,000 words and I've not started on any of them. this is the reason I've not posted a blog for over a week as I've had two due in today, and a test this morning. I've learned something though: Never trust my flat mate Hollie to know what's going on. an hour into the exam she assured me was two hours (I don't know, I got bored of the lectures so I only went to the seminars since the middle of October, I'm really getting into the swing of being a student) the lecturer said "Right if you could just finish up." there was then a load of talking, and in spite of the fact that as a dyslexic student (an actual proper dyslexic student, not some posh kid who's a bit thick getting statemented as so many people seem to get annoyed about), I should have had at least an extra quarter of an hour on this, which would have been enough to turn it round. Instead I freaked out and went a bit mental.

Maybe I shouldn't have shouted at my lecturer. Maybe I shouldn't have finished the essay with the paragraph "Fuck this, this is bullshit, I can't concentrate as there's loads of noise and really I should have been allowed extra time in a quiet environment, it's a fucking disgrace, I'll be lodging a formal complaint."

I then found out that I shouldn't have actually even done the test, the special dispensation for the dyslexic students is that they get to do the essay on their own time. Arse.

Never mind, I got my essays in and done on time.

But that's not what this is supposed to be about, it's about comedy.

So a couple of weeks ago, after I posted my last blog I headed off to Lincoln, if you'll remember I'd been dying on my arse at gig after gig and I was needing a good one to pull back the average. Arriving at the bar it was empty, a situation that didn't change as show time apporached, though it was good to see Andy Kind, who I've not seen for ages. anyway the show was pulled, and I collected my cash and got ready to head off home when the promoter called me and told me that one of the acts hadn't turned up over at the other venue, a place on the marina called YOTS, so I headed over there to do the middle section.

Now my sense of direction is terrible at the best of times, and this wasn't the best of times but I managed to get there in the end, and just in time to go on stage. I've decided for a while at least to dress down when I'm on stage, with some of the topics I'm covering at the moment there's enough barriers between me and the audience without throwing a load of leather and PVC over it.

The audience seemed lovely and Barry Dodds had managed to do really well and they even went for his darkest stuff so I thought this will be fun. as I headed up onto the stage I felt really confident, and the opening three jokes (I've now removed the ones that caused trouble) worked and then suddenly I lost them. Really lost them. I was two minutes into a 20 minute set and they were just really staring at me. and it wasn't working.

This game works on tension and release, you build tension with a set up and release it with a punchline, when you die it's just build up after build up of tension. I also at this point started to realise that they weren't going to go for stuff, so rather than front it out I tried to ease my way into some of the stuff I was going to do and they still weren't going for it, essentially for the first ten minutes of this I just gave them set-ups that they didnt' like adn then decidednot to bother with the punchline.

It's funny how your mind works when you're on the spot. Then after ten minutes of this I just thought to myself, there's nothing you can do, so you might as well just go with it, and then I relaxed into the death and enjoyed every second of it. As I referenced that I was dying on my arse the audience loved that, I followed it up with "Really this has become a war of attrition, neither of us is prepared to give an inch and both of us will consider this a win." they loved that. What was odd was that they didn't seem to dislike me, they just really didn't think that I was funny in any way, but when I suggested that they wanted me to go, they all yelled "No" I wasn't going to go, I was only half way through my time, and however it's going I'll do my time and no more or less.

So I kept smiling and I kept talking and trying to do something to entertain them and they just weren't going with it, after 20 minutes I told them I was leaving and that I was confused as to why this had happened "It's just weird, don't worry, I'm not normally this shit." They laughed, I signed off with my usual message of love and acceptance and said I was off to the bar to think about what I'd done. and they liked that too.

It was a strange gig all round. I left fairly soon after and in the car on the way home it was playing on my mind. For 3 weeks now I'd not had a gig that'd gone right in any way, whatever it was that makes me funny had deserted me somehow, and it was confusing me. I was still in a place where I feel like I should just quit, but at the same time I'd really enjoyed the death I'd just had.

Dug and Dolan talked me through it though. But for the life of me I can't remember what it was that they said.

anyway, a couple of days later and it's the anniversary of Sarah and I splitting up, I bought her some flowers and I'm now really enjoying her company again. Turns out Brendon Burns was right, it does take a year to get over a broken heart.

That night, however I was on at the opening night of the Columbus Comedy Cave in Bradford for Fox Bronte.

Fox, crazy name crazy guy!

As I got to the venue I had a real sense of foreboding, which wasn't helped when i walked into the upstairs of the venue and asked at the bar about the comeddy telling them I was one of the acts "The show starts at 8:30" Well can I not go in? "Not until the show starts."

I headed off to try and find some cigarettes and came back just after 8:30. as I walked in to the gig the foreboding got worse, the guy on the door when I told him who I was and that I was tehre to perform just said "Oh" and then carried on talking to the people who were arriving.

I went over to a secluded spot away from the stage Fox came over and said hi and then told me that there were a few difficulties, the mic lead had been stolen and some of the other acts were very late.

It looked like it was going to be a disaster. I just wanted to go home. Experience should have told me that when this happens it means the gig's going to be good, but after the run I'd been through it just looked like hell.

Eventually Chris Brooker, my old flatmate turned up, he was MCing it and I was doing the opening 25, now without a microphone.

As it got closer to 9:30 the gig started adn more people wer coming in whilst Chris was mcing, by the time I got on stage there was a sizeable crowd, and you know what. This time it worked, it really worked, I just dropped right out of the front I've been building up over the last couple of years and was just me, telling my stories making people laugh and it was one of the nicest feelings in the world. Someone described me as "like an enthusiastic Stewart Lee" which made my day, as did the audience coming over and telling me how much they enjoyed it.

When you start out people tell you to be yourself, and you try, but it's like so many things in this never ending jigsaw puzzle, you can be told it but you don't know it until you know it, and then when you do it just seems so obvious.

After that aside from doing my college work I was getting ready for the third night of my new night at Vanilla Bar in Manchester, it wsa the first night I'd be resident compereing, and the pressure of doing that was starting to get to me, especially as I'd essentially overrun last month when I was just doing a set and used up pretty much all the material I've ever written.

Monday was fast approaching and I was starting to worry about it more and more, but fortunately Sarah was going to be there, along with her sister. Now it's not normally such a great thing to have loads of people you know in the audience, and especially not an ex, but we have a great understanding wtih each other, and essentially she doens't mind me telling stories about the stuff we've got up to, especially as it makes me look like a bit of a tool.

The only problem with it is Sarah's hideous attempts at time keeping, the show was supposed to start at 8:30, and so that I didn't have kittens I needed her to be there at 8:15 at the latest. I told her about 6 times in the run up to it that she needed to be there at 8. and she was cool with that. At about 4 she calls me from Manchester and says "Right, so I need to be there for 9 then?" so I say no, 8 at the very latest. after the call I send her this text:

"be there for 8, 8pm, 8 o'clock, 8 o'clock in the evening, 8. 8. eight. and not eight as in "Oh it's midnight, have I missed it?" 8, eight o'clock. remember that number I need you to be there for 8. hugs xXx"

Then as I'm drving into Manchester, a little late myself I get a phone call at 7:20 saying that she's not gone for food yet so she'll be down later.

Suddeny it's all loking a litte too real again. Essentially I've got 25 minutes of totally untested new stuff to do tonight, a good portion of which requires her to be there to back it up, or at least that's what I think, in the event, her being there makes it funnier but isn't neccessary to make it funny.

As I get into the bar, there's George, Vince and Susan, and about three other people there, it's 8:10 20 minutes to show time on a rainy Monday night. it's going to be shit, or worse, it's going to be pulled and then no more gig, which is a shame because it's a lovely venue and the crowd so far have been really good, not too good though, if you do something that's not funny they won't laugh, but they will laugh overall.

I go over to talk to Bex about it, now I'm shitting it because of the new material, and because there's going to be no one in. then at 8:20 Sarah gets there with her sister and her friend Avril from Back home, (she's ace by the way, one of the few people I've ever met who I'm able to totally just be wisecracking with from the get go and who gets it without trying to make out like I'm the mental one in some sort of show of charlie big spuds "you're funny so I'll be dismissive" way which really winds me up, but I've given you more than enough insight into how my head works so far.)

I'm glad to see them, it's only a small venue so even an extra 7 people starts to make the place look like it's ready for a gig, then something strange happens. between 8:22 and 8:30 the place totally fills up, it's just packed, we wait a while to see if any more come and at 8:45 we start the gig.

the new stuff works, they love it, they love the fact that I've got my ex there and talk about the stupid shit that I've done, they can't believe that I'll talk about it and that somehow makes it even better. George Cottier is first on, and though not all of them get him he does really well. I'm really impressed, then Susan Hanks goes on and rips it up, they audience is loving it, Vince Atta is magnificent and then splits the room with his rape and racism material, but if you're going to do rape material then you should have the courage of your convictions and do it in a lesbian bar. By the end of the night Sarah Millican takes what's been set up and really sets the bar for anyone who's going to perform there again, she is simply the most fantastic act I've seen in a long time and the audience love her.

It's a night that's included stories of Stalin, all 43 presidents of the US, Tricolor, lynx, rape, racism, paedophilia, zoophilia, ways to harm children, shitting yourself and suicide. it was probably the most fun I've had at a gig for a very very long time and the venue loved it, the audience loved it and all the acts wanted to come back and play agin. Later when a bunch of us were out having a curry I reflected back on that evening and I'm really proud of what we've managed to achieve there.

Roll on next month and Ray Peacock :D

right, best get back to work, no rest for the wicked.

I love you all

xXx

It's been over a week. Wow it's gone past quickly.

Where was I?

Oh yeah, that was it I was about to head off to the Frog for the start of a weekend of great gigs. well this is what happened over the course of my week.

THursday night I get to the frog quite excited, it's sold out, nearly, well it's standing room only, so that means over 250 people will be in there and that's a lovely number to play to.

I remember seeing a piece on the Granada News about the Frog when Johnny Vegas was resident compere, must be 8 years ago now, and it, by virtue of being on the news, and from later watching and loving Johnny Vegas and Peter Kay started to hold this special place in my mind. I remember about 5 years ago going to manchester to a sewing Machine shop on Oldham Street and walking past the Frog and being excited to even see the building.

I'll explain now, I'm one of those people who gets really excited about seeing things in real life if I've only seen them on TV before, this goes as far as seeing people who I've only seen on TV, and it also works the other way too, I'll be sat watching TV and someone I know comes on and I get quite giddy and tell everyone in the room. Which is why in a couple of weeks I'll be annoying my flatmates after Dr Who telling them that "I've slept on his couch!" after Ray Peacock's been on. After Dr Who, obviously, there's no talking while that's on.

So the Frog's got a lot of history for me, I remember the first time I went there was on a Monday for Beat The Frog in September 2004, and it was terrifying, I lasted 3.10 in the competition dying on my arse and then banging my head off the side of the stage as I tried to leave.

I look so young and pale there, not like now after nearly three years of sleeping on other people's couches.

I kept going back and the history of the place eventually gave way to a feeling of foreboding as apart from six months after I first appeared there when I won that competition three times in quick succession I've never done particularly well there, but I've progressed through to doing the Thursday, which is one step down from having a paid weekend. All I need to do is have a couple of good Thursdays there. But I've jinxed myself against having a good one there, it's one of the few gigs wehre I get genuinely nervous before I go on stage any more.

This Thursday was no different, but before I went on I managed to compose myself. Stepping into the spotlight it was all going well the fist joke got a big laugh, the second line got a laugh and a round of applause, then suddenly for no reason that I could tell on my third Joke people all started talking in unison. I tried to quieten them down by switching from material to banter and it worked a little bit and then they just couldn't keep concentration. After ten minutes of this I left the stage, having at one point said the silly thing of "you know this is quite funny if you'll listen to it." Never plead with an audience, you need to assert authority. I wouldn't have minded if they'd been heckling, heckling I can deal with but chatting is horrible.

As I said to Sarah after our fight, when I tried to blame her girlfriend for it happeneing saying that if she'd just said that she hated me rather than saying that she didn't feel anything for me and didn't care about me, my greatest character flaw is my inability to deal with anyone's indifference towards me.

After I left the stage I headed upstairs to the green room and started to get changed, thinking, "Why do you even bother doing this, you'll never be able to do this proffessionally, there's really no point, you should probably phone up and cancel all your other gigs."

I sat there for a few minutes smoking a cigarette and thinking. The act after me wasn't doing too well either, then Pierre Hollins came up to the green room and we had a chat about it. I was slowly feeling better, Colin the sound guy wandered through muttering "fuck 'em they're idiots." I went down stairs and got a drink and collected my money, whilst I was waiting a guy walked over to me and sad "Wow, Clitler! I'll remember that for the rest of my life that was ace." which was enough to salvage the gig. I've got used to the fact that there will always be a portion of the audience that hates everything I say or do, and there's a slowly growing number of people who absolutely adore what I do.

After the show I stayed for a drink with Pierre and Colin and then made my excuses and headed down to Vanilla, a lesbian bar in Manchester's gay village where I run a comedy night (fourth monday of the month, next one's 23rd April with Sarah Millican and Vince Atta in case you're interested). I popped in to see my friend who works there and to just chill a bit after the gig, but post-gig adrenaline was still running through my veins and I was bouncy and far too loud. when asked what drink I wanted I initially Joked "Red Bull! And coke! in the same glass! pint!" Bex asked if I'd had that before and that it was quite nice, well faint heart never won fair and all that so I had one and it is lovely. Not drinking alcohol anymore means that my drinks on a night out are fairly limited so that was a welcome addition. one of the other bar staff, Alex wandered up behind me and put her hand on my shoulder and said "Hey, it's Bethany Black!"

Suddenly I felt like I was in Cheers, or some lesbian gangster film (Hmm that's a good idea, I should write that down.) So I had a chat with the staff and stood at the bar looking out over the sea of bad dancing and extravagant haircuts, feeling like I belonged somewhere for the first time in ages, I realised I was getting stared at by a couple of people and I wasn't entirely sure why. See there's this idea that with gay couples there's none of the same courting ritual that there is with straight couples, like they just walk up to each other say "You're hot, wanna fuck?" which isn't the case, well it is with some gay men, especially in certain clubs. The truth is that you end up with Male and Female courting rituals squared. So you do get that thing with gay guys where they'll walk up to a guy they fancy and then they'll leave with them a few minutes later, but lesbians are slightly different, that's femal courting ritual squared, so what you tend to get is two groups stood at opposite ends of a club, one member of each group fancies a member of the other group and so they all keep periodically looking over and then huddling together to talk, and if you're lucky the one who fancies you from that gropu will match wtih the one from your group who fancies her and then in lesbian terms you're married. I often think the real reason for having to wait for a couple of months wiht civil partnerships is due to the fact that lesbians would be getting married every week otherwise, whereas under the current terms even the most loved up "This time I've found true love" type lesbian if they apply after their first date, will have moved on through that girls ex to her best friend to her ex in the couple of months it takes for the paper work to come through.

Anyway I'm watching and trying to figure out if that's what's going on with different groups in there, and then I hear a voice in my ear "Are you Bethany Black?" This happens three more times over the course of the nightthe last girl who asks me I get talking to and we chat for a couple of hours, and she invites me to a heavy metal lapdancing bar in a couple of weeks, so I accept should be cool. The weird thing is in my own small way in that bar on that night I'm like some kind of micro-celebrity and I quite like it, I could get used to it.

As the night finishes I call up Michael J Dolan Britain's Favourite Funnyman(tm) He's just had a gig too, and between us we're not going to sleep for a while, but Dug's in London, so we've nowhere to hang out. I did offer to housesit but I'm sure Leanne and Ruth his flatmates have seen enough of us whilst he's there without us turning up when he's gone. In the end we head down to Rusholme and chat about stuff until the curryhouse closes and throws us out, his new opening bumbling style seems to be really working.

As I eventually crawl into bed I don't care about the gig that much anymore as I've had a great night, and tomorrow I'm doing the Comedy Store in London and I can't wait.

Friday

I fill up the car and head on down to London for the gig, I drive slowly and it's great, the weather's hot and the roads are fairly clear I'm making great time and then have some trouble finding somewhere to park, but eventually do just off Regent's street, and I walk down to the Store finally getting there about 10 minutes before the show starts, I normally like to get there well before the show starts but this wasn't possible tonight. So I get ready and start pacing, Karl Spain is compere and he introduces James Dowdswell onto the stage whilst I'm finishing off my make-up. Then I start getting my head together.

A year or so ago I came here for the first time, it's another place that holds so much history, I know it's not the same venue where Ben Elton adn Alexei Sayle and all those other earliest heroes of mine started out, but it still is in my mind, growing up I thought it was the only place where live comedy was performed in the country, it was also the first comedy club I ever went to in 1999 for my then girlfreind, Michelle's Birthday, it was a Wednesday So the Comedy Store Players were on, and it was great, even though I'm not a big fan of improv. I've just read that sentence back and that makes me look like some sort of idiot savant, Hmm, 19th January 1999 was a Wednesday, and quantas never crashed. I don't know how I know that I just do, though maybe I'm wrong, if you actually go to the effort to check out if I'm right and then find that I'm wrong that makes you weirder than me so why would I take any notice of you?

So you know, This place means a lot to me and when I did my first 5 minute spot on a THursday there just over a year ago I was terrified, me Playing the Comedy Store was like a sunday league player getting to play Wembley. But after I'd done the gig and not done particularly well, but not badly Paul Byrne gave me some great advice:

"You've played tiny gigs in rooms above pubs in front of three people who've not paid to get in and done well, there in a venue where everything was against you, a microphone that doesn't work, an L shaped room, too much light and a disinterested audience, here's a purpose built venue where the audience are all facing the right way and the venue's perfect, they've all paid to get in they're expecting you to be good. And don't think that you don't deserve to be there, by virtue of the fact that you are there you deserve to be there."

After that I came back in September and wasn't scared, wasn't nervous at all, I knew what I wanted to do and I tore the arse out of the gig for my five minutes, adn Now here we go 8 months later ready to do it again.

I'm ready, I can handle anything, whatever they decide to throw at me I can deal with, I'm going to set this night on fire, I'm going to put to rest the demons of last night at the Frog. James is off the stage and I'm in the drop zone I'm psyched, I'm ready for it I swig more water, I think of everything that's led me here and I know that it'll all come together in the next 10 minutes, Karl calls my name and I step through the door, forgetting that there's not a step there I stumble a little but catch my balance. and strutt to the microphone.

Opening line, big laugh, Next line big laugh, heckle. I manage to deal with it in a way that really works and then move on to the next line, laugh and applause break, now onto the second joke gets a big laugh but not as much as I'd have expected, then...

The wheel falls off the gig. I do a joke and rather than the response it's got all round the country for the last six months I get booed. Booed.

This is strange, I assume it's because I mentioned Kit Kats, as the one month performance date since the Revel's Chortle student of the year competition is passed I'm out of contract and feel free to slag off Nestlé for being baby murderers, but that's not what the crowd want.

There's a really strange thing about booing, it's odd, it's apparently the worst thing an audience can do to you short of throwing stuff, but I started out MCing rock gigs I'm no stranger to having things thrown at me. as a sound goes, 200 people going "Booo!" is acutally quite soothing, and I settle in and enjoy the reaction. I move on into my next bit, there's a little bit of chattering started so I slow down my speech pattern to stop it, and in my head I'm thinking, "well that's it, that's the worst they can do, you know what, fuck it, you can get them back, you know you're funny and whatever they do it doesn't matter." and that not caring calmed me right down and helped me get my composure back. I finished, though I was looking for the red light I always manage to miss it there, I assume I've hit my time.

I wander Back Stage and Andy Askins smiles and says "Well done" though I still don't know what happened I know that this should have been a great gig and it wasn't I can't figure it out, Craig Campbell heads out onto the stage and from back here I can hear how on form he is, it's absolutely amazing.

James pops his head round the greenroom door and says "You know when they booed, well it seems that we've got an overlap in material." I'm normally good about this, I've dropped loads of material when I've found that it's too close to someone else's material, this particular piece was word for word the same, the only difference being he'd said his ten minutes before I did. If I'd heard it then the gig would have gone entirely different but it's too late for that now.

I hang around and talk to Jeff Innocent and the other guys for a while and head off before the late show happy that even though it didn't go to plan it'll all be alright, There's always tomorrow.

Saturday

After an hour and a half drive from Ian's, just north of London I get to the gig and park up on a single yellow outside, it's gone 8:30 and so I know I'll be fine. I walk in and get a bad feeling, it's above a pub and it's above the sort of pub where I get stared at even before I've got my stagewear and make-up on. I head upstairs and it's quiet, but not for long as a huge stag party turns up who'll make up most of the audience.

Oddly enough for a slithgly different comic than the usual "Men and women, they're different aren't they?" type I actually love stag and hen parties as my blend of filth and whimsy seem to go down quite well with them, but tonight wasn't to be my night.

They were rowdy and joining in but not really laughing, it was like they were unionised "One laughs, we all laugh" and they were more than happy to join in, until I got on stage when they lookid visibly shocked and stayed quiet.

It was work, but it went ok. afterwards I was just feeling tired, I've been doing too much driving and too little resting and writing recently. and this weekend hadn't gone quite as I'd hoped, tired I headed back to my car only to find that I'd got a parking ticket. The Bastards!!! I was still fighting one from last summer that Camden council decided to give me even though I'd bought a ticket and parked in a designated bay and got back in time. (a ticket that meant I had to pay bailiffs £300 this morning so that they wouldn't take my car)

To cheer myself up I stopped off for some junk food on the way home. And the Sprite I ordered was just soda water.

The weekend had beaten me and it reminded me of why I moved away from London, well I moved away because I went mad, but it was constant things like this that made the place unlivable for me.

after that the rest of the week goes like this... (I've been sat here trying to write this for hours now and I'm getting bored so Christ knows how you feel, I'm one of the most self centred people I know I love talking about myself.)

Sunday night was Dug's birthday which was a party that was messy and had people thrown out for being twattish. Monday was a day of rest, whilst we sat round in Dug's flat as the recrimination merry-go-round delivered doses of paranoia to team come-down every 20 minutes or so. To cheer things up I went to blockbuster for a video and KFC for a Lesbian Happy Meal (AKA the Deluxe Boneless Box)

We then watched Wedding Crashers (ace) and Roddy Piper in a cheap actioneer called "Tough and Deadly" watching one of his before we realised that the most entertaining way to watch any of these "Maveric cop who does things his way and the DA can shove it" is if you imagine that the main character is delusional and only thinks that he's a cop and that all the other characters are humouring him. It's especially good when he goes to show his badge just from the other actors reactions. Watch out for that.

Eventually sleep comes to us and Tuesday I'm out of the flat and back down to Crewe to look at the house I'm moving into for next year. myself and Cat decide to take it and later our landlady tells us that the other flat mate, who she'd said to me before we'd decided to take the place is "Foreign, but she's nice", is "A black girl, from Namibia, is that alright with you?"

Which leads me to think that either she's a massive racist, or she thinks I am, and I'm not sure which is worse.

Oh and my parents finally sold their house this week, so they'll be moving in less than 6 weeks to France, I think I mentioned before that I was conceived on the day they moved to this house, I'm still paranoid that I'll die on the day they move out. But fingers crossed.

As the week's drawn to a close things are ok. It's my birthday on Christmas Eve, but today's the day I celebrate it, and it's been a bit of a washout. All my friends who said, on Christmas Eve "well your birthday's too close to Christmas for us to celebrate it, I tell you what we'll celebrate it in April." seem to have forgotten that, as two of them when I mentioned celebrating today said "But it's not your actual birthday is it? No that's Christmas eve, well at least I didn't forget about it."

Sometimes you just can't win.

anyway I'm off out now. until next time, I love you all.

I've been too lazy at writing this, but as Easter draws near and the end of university for a term ends a load of work needs to be done, and reather than do it I've just procrastinated and hung out with friends, at the current rate I'm going to have to do all my uni work in one week before it all needs handing in.

So after the gig in Bristol I met up With Ray Peacock and we drove back to his, I'd got a text inviting me to a party at my friend Carey's house in North London, and I wasn't going to go, but rather head on home after the gig. I left on Friday expecting to be home that evening, it was saturday and I thought, what's one more day?

Back at Ray's myself and Ray played Buzz on PS2 until the sun came up and then it was time for sleep.

I like talking to some comics after gigs, the chance to talk about what you did and where you went wrong is invaluable, though sometimes they can be less than helpful, Ray isn't like that he's great to talk to about that stuff and always helpful. It's a never ending source of joy for me that this job means that even at my lowly status within the industry I get to meet and work with people whose work I really respect.

Anyway I fell asleep, and had a weird dream, one that was so lucid, and also which didn't seem to occupy the dream space of my brain, but instead some of it seeped into the mid term memory section. Like the dream equivalent of Déja vu. I was sure I'd been told this story before and that my sub concious was just recreating it into a dream, though it left me feeling uneasy. my head lolled to the right and I opened my eyes...

Ray jumped and I scared myself, he was trying to record The Super League show on TV, and had apparently knocked on the door trying to wake me and called my name and I'd not replied yet making the slightest noise trying to be quiet had woken me. I told him about my dream and half way through realised that it made no sense.

It's not quite Martin Luther King, but here's my dream:

I dreampt that there was a show on MTV where they granted people's entirely doable wishes, like Jim'll fix it, where they go to people's houses and give them the treat of a lifetime, usually people who're poor and haven't had much luck recently. and this is where the internal logic breaks down, in this episode they went to see a record producer and asked him what his make a wish foundation type dream would be, and he gave up the chance to have something special instead wanting a pair of jeans made for his brother who was very fat and couldn't find jeans that fitted. And the jeans they made were very special indeed, they were like dungarees but with these sausage things sewn into them, so they had 6 legs, giving his brother the look of a big octopus. The thing that made me wake with a melancolic sense of unease was the beauty of someone giving up their chance for happiness to do something nice for someone they loved.

If anyone's good at analysing dreams and knows what that means, then by all means get in touch.

I spent the afternoon irritating Ray by talking to him whilst he tried to complete a jigsaw, and then headed off to the party.

The party was great fun, Matt asked if I'd do the sound again for his show this year in Edinburgh, so I'm definately going to be there and I can't wait. Also I met a comic called Reggie who was doing Reiki, and he did a session for me which was brilliant, after I got my boobs done I've lost skin sensation in my arm and after a short session with him I got some of it back, apparently I need at least four more.

On Monday I headed down to Old ROpe to see if I could possibly get a spot to try out some new material, unfortunately it was packed out, fortunately I got to see some good stuff from Andrew O'Neil who I love, and Stephen Merchant who was doing some stuff there. Andrew Maxwell headlined, and one of the lines that he did I realised was a little similar to one of mine so I'm thinking I may have to drop it, which in itself is a bit annoying, but looking at it from a different angle, I'm writing things, and thinking about things in a similar way to Andrew Maxwell, this gives me confidence that I'm on the right track.

One of my big problems with being a stand-up comic, aside from my brain hating me from time to time and making me nervous for no real reason, is that for the most part I don't really think that I'm very funny, that nothing I've said, written or even thought is funny or original in any way, this ususally happens about three hours before a gig, my brain suddenly goes "Well they laughed the last 300 times you got on stage but that's not going to happen tonight, they'll see through it all and realise you don't know what the hell you're doing, you're not funny and never have been."

Over the last couple of weeks though, somethings have happened to change that.

After Old Rope I ended up down at the Phoenix for the fist time and ended up chatting and having fun with Tiffany Stephenson Andrew O'Neil and Ava Vidal, all of whom I'd like to see more often than I do, though now that I'm gigging more and more often in London I'm sure I will. But after the bar closed I drove Ava and Andrew home before at 5am deciding that that would be the perfect time to drive home.

Getting in at 10am on Tuesday morning having left at 3pm on Friday fully intending to get home again that night I was tired and slept for most of the day.

After that I'm a little hazy about what I did on which day for most of the rest of the week, but by Friday I ended up driving off to Leeds with Jonathan Mayor. We'd decided to finally get some work done on the Sit com we've been planning. It's a huge sprawling epic with character and plot threads in the style of some of the big american series. I've lived with these characters in my head for the last 7 years and it's time to get them out again and see what they do. But this weekend Jonathan was doing Cabaret Heaven in Leeds and Hebden Bridge so that was enough of a plan for us, I'd drive him and we'd talk, then on Saturday we'd work all day on it.

The gig in Leeds was good fun, it was strange to go back to that venue, I'd not been there since I compered a gig for Amnesty international there and they hated me from start to finish. There was a banner on the wall behind me saying "imagine a world without violence to women and girls" Which considering the reaction I got from the audience was the very definition of Irony. on that night everything I did made them hate me more and more, but Jason Cook who was on the bill also managed to do everything right in spite of himself. His opening line was to look at the banner and say "Imagine a world without violence to women, that'd be a world where they did what they were told the first time then..." and they loved him from that moment on.

I love Cabaret shows, and I enjoy performing at them too, but there's always a few things that don't sit right with me, somethimes it's that the audience don't tend to shut up and pay attention, sometimes it's that the audience are a little too forgiving, the thing about playing stand-up clubs is that if you don't manage to drag a laugh out of them every 30 seconds or at least hold their rapt attention with a witty monologue they'll hate you, whereas in Cabaret clubs often even if you're supposed to be providing the funny they'll let you just ramble on, this can be both a good and bad thing I think, but what didn't sit right with me on this night was that one of the acts had quite clearly stolen a joke from one of my favourite comedians. But that was the only down side.

The other downside to the weekend was that I'd agreed to meet up with Ray Peacock, and then couldn't due to the last minute plan of driving Jonathan, and by the time I'd remembered that and realised that I didn't have time to do both the battery on my phone had died.

After the gig we headed back to Manchester to Legends nightclub for Miss Jinny's birthday Last year I played her party and now she's booked me in for some of her nights which are great a captave audience of Goths and perverts, my kind of people! The party was great fun, I often think you've not lived until you've seen a whole bunch of Goths and Club kids scream like children and get over excited on the dancefloor when the DJ plays Girls Aloud "Love machine" followed by S Club 7 "Reach for the Stars" and then Shampoo "Trouble". Also I do like looking at what people are wearing, the corsets the bondage gear the PVC and the 6 foot skinny Goth girl wearing a netted tutu style skirt gaffer tape over her nipples and little else.

As always at these things I ended up chatting to someone. He's a guy I've seen around at a lot of these things before and we got chatting about stuff, he'd seen me at the party the year before and started with that usual conversation opener about how comedy must be the hardest thing in the world, and then he said that he'd played in bands for years and had a few hits in the 70's, turns out he was in The Sweet, one of my favourite 70's bands and now played for them and the Glitter Band, which I think is really cool, though apparently Butlin's will no longer book them. I just love the idea that he stands out on stage in front of thousands of people as they sing along only changing the chant to leader of the gang to "He's a paedo! He's a Paedo! He's a Paedo with a gang!"

Saturday meant writing and we got a load done it's really starting to take shape and I love it, in the evening we headded off to Hebden Bridge, Home of the Lesbians of the North of England, last time I was there I was doing a benefit gig for the Anti Nazi League, two places in two nights where last time I was doing some right on Charity work and two places where I'd done badly previously. Again the night was fun and we got talking to a young lad who'd just done his first gig that night, I like talking to newbies, and I remembered back to asking for advice from people when I first started out.

On the way back to Jonathan's we talked aobut general stuff and then about what I'm doing for my Edinburgh 2008 show, I'll tell you about it on here, but not just yet, in a couple of weeks, and Jonathan managed to get me to look at myself from someone else's perspective and it made me cry. This was a very important thing for me to do. But I won't dwell on this right now.

When we got back to Jonathan's we watched the first episode of the new series of Dr Who and it was excellent, best series opener I think that they've ever had. Then we watched a bit of Firefly which I'm really enjoying at the moment, the other good thing about writing this script at the moment is that I can watch stuff like this and justify it as "research".

On Sunday I woke up around noon and after some breakfast and a bit of a chat I had to head down to Exeter for a Mirth Control gig. I'd forgotten how long that drive was, but the sun was shining and the world is good so I enjoyed my journey.

When I got there the room was vast and filling up well, eventually just after nine the show started and I didn't feel that the opening section went as well as it could have done. After spending 5 hours on my own in the car my social skills had dropped and so my initial banter was slightly stilted, by the time I did the second section I'd got it back and for the closing section I was really enjoying it and it was a little more effortless. Over the course of the evening I met a BDSM collared Slave and had a very hot woman in the front row decide she was going to set me up with her sister. After the gig I gave her and her friend a lift home and we exchanged numbers, so I'll be in touch with them next time I head down that way. I love my job.

At 5am I got in and sent off a bunch of texts as I headed to bed, red bull and hypochondria convincing me that I had a DVT from the driving, it was more likely cramp in my knee from trying to maintain 55 miles per hour the 250 miles there and the 250 miles home.

Monday I tried out some new material at the Frog during their beat the frog section, as a lot of it was add ons to other bits of material that I've written recently the audience didn't really have the back story or the chance to get to like me before I did some of the more personal and dark material* that I've written recently. I managed 4 minutes and 55 seconds of anger, confusion, pity and abhorence from the audience before they showed me the three green cards, just 5 seconds short of the full time. I wasn't doing it as a competition just a chance to try some new stuff. Though I did enjoy it and I learned from it so that counts as a win for me. I was sat at teh Back after that with Michael J Dolan Britain's favourite funnyman(tm) as we watched each competitor head up onto that stage and as they survived the time went "Well she's officially five seconds funnier than me" or "He's 1 minute and 28 seconds less funny than I am" just to highlight the absurdity of measuing art in this way.

Michael did raise a very valid point though, gong shows aside from enabling you to hone material are fairly pointless, and even at that they're not the best tool, because most audiences at comedy nights go there to laugh, whereas at gong shows they go their to judge comedians. and as Jerry Seinfeld points out to an audience in the Documentary "Comedian": "I don't know why we put so much faith in your opinion, it's not like any of you have ever written a joke."

After the gig I went to give Dan Nightingale a lift home, only to find the clutch had gone on my car again. I knew it was the same problem as last time and I'd left the clasp at home that I needed to fix it, the cable tie that had held it all together for the last month had snapped and so I did the most lesbian thing, short of making a 6 ball break at pool, that I could think of, I mended my car using gaffer tape enough to hold until I got home! I truely am Queen Dyke!

On Tuesday I met up with Dolan and drank lots of tea as we talked about the sit com, he's coming on board to help us out, I honestly think he's one of the best undiscovered writing talents I know, if not in the country. As his performance last night at The Asylum at the Frog and Bucket went to show.

That was a great night, Toby Hadoke's DIary of a Posh bloke was excellent and had me nearly in tears at the poigniancy or some of it and Eddie Hoo Winning £75 on a scratchcard whilst mid way through his set was fantastic. and Dolan's faffing about spending 3 minutes talking about how he didn't have time to waste three minutes before leaving the stage with "Hello" was sublime. If you're in Manchester when it's on check it out it's an ace night and I think it'll grow to be something special.

Also I found out Toby's going to go to Edinburgh for the second week of the festival at the Underbelly doing his show "Moths Ate My Dr Who Scarf" if you haven't seen it please please make sure you do, it's a brilliant show, and that's been bourne out by the fact he's now got a BBC audio book of it coming out and a radio 7 two parter based on it out soon.

Later on sat over in Little Tyneside mk II i got to catch up with Barry Dodds, excited about his purchase of Vince Clarke's Gold Suit from Erasure's 1997 world tour, we chatted about stuff and sniffed poppers until 5 in the morning It was like being 15 again, well actually it was like a year and a half ago before we both got really busy and ended up never being put on the same bill any more. It was great fun and I'm going to make sure I spend more time with him from now on if I can.

As I headed home I thought through the events of the last couple of weeks and especially last night, I'm positive about myself now, and I'm happy and excited about the future, but at the same time pissed off with myself for not being able to hold back from telling people about it, it's still my greatest character flaw I think, my inability to keep my mouth shut and talk about me. Well that and that I'm a massive c*nt.

But I am excited, really excited. Tonight I'm doing a Thursday at the Frog and Bucket, the club that's meant so much to me since I started out and a club where I'd love to be a weekend act, though I've got a feeling that it may not happen. and then tomorrow night I'm doing the Comedy Store in London, the place where I first saw live Stand-up and a club that if I eventually get to the point where I'm doing a full weekend there will really make me feel like I'm a success, that'll be when I know that I've earned my stripes. On Saturday I'm playing the Green Dragon in Croydon and having a full weekend of Thursday Friday and Saturday makes me feel like I'm a proper comedian.

So where from here? I don't know but I've got the feeling this is going to get exciting.