well I've been away for a while, and I'm currently kind of homeless, I've not slept in a bed for a month now, and had little time to get online. Though about a month ago I tried to post a blog about what I'd been up to, which I'll tell the story of now. How frightfully postmodern of me, I'm writing a blog about writing a blog.

Essentially I was trying to catch up on some of what I'd been up to and was writing about the gig I'd done at the Bracknell comedy cellar a couple of weeks earlier. It was the day after the Doctor Who Episode "Blink" was shown which had a cameo from fellow Chortle Blogger Ray Peacock. It was a great episode and was very scary, especially watching it in my parents house at 3 in the morning up on the Pennine moors alone in a house that I've mentioned before terrifies me. The episode was made all the more terrifying with the statues that move only when you're not looking at them by the fact that the reveal of how scary their faces are when a statue on my parents mantle piece fell off making a loud noise. A new pair of knickers was needed as my active imagination went into overdrive.

So the next night alone in that house with all the statues in the house facing a full length mirror to stop them from attacking me I sat down to write a blog about the gig. After about 1,000 words on the subject and during a pause to think about the moving statues again there was a power cut in the house.

Now, I'm terrified of the dark and so I did what any 28 year-old hard as nails independent woman would do. screamed and ran from the house got into my car and headed over to my friend Dug's house.

Anyway the blog I was writing was a little bit like this.

The Bracknell Comedy Cellar has become one of my favourite gigs after just one performance. It's a lovely gig with a fantastic audience and Katherine who booked me for it was about as close to how the idea promoter should be, virtually the Platonic form of the Comedy Promoter, between her and the other staff I turned up and was made to feel like I was an old friend who was invited for an evening out and was just asked to do a little party piece and talk to the room of people for a short time.

What made the gig that little bit extra special for me was something about the audience, on one side of the stage was a table of lesbians which always makes me happy and lets me know that this gig is going to be a good one. Most of the time unless you fulfill the audience's expectation of what a stand-up should be: male, 25-35, wearing a t-shirt and jeans and talking about wanking, star wars and why their girlfriend left them, then you've got to work to get them on side and address what they think as you go on stage where all they've got to judge you on is how you look, along with an audience's prejudice that "women aren't funny". This is just how it is, and it's a perception that I try to break every time I go on stage. Essentially unless you're a known female comic who they've seen on TV or heard on radio and have sold tickets for the show on the back of your name being on the bill you've got to be twice as funny as any of the guys ont he bill and work twice as hard to get the same response.

Knowing that there's a lesbian contingent in the audience makes it a home game, they're ususally on my side before I even get on stage. So I'm nicely relaxed, also as I'm waiting to go on stage I can see a large 18th birthday party sat round a table, they seem lovely and just happy to be out at a gig like this and sat with them are two girls who appear to be together, but they're doign that "trying to show affetion for each other though scared of what the reaction of others would be" that you see so many gay couples doing in straight environments. The slight touch of the knee, the occasionall stolen look, moving your partner's hair out of their eyes with a smile. It made me smile seeing them, and then my name was called and I took to the stage brandishing the rampant rabbit vibrator, that goes everywhere with me, above my head.

It's the first gig I've done in a while aside from a new material night the previous night in front of a handful of people, and I'm a little nervy but I don't think it shows, and I have a great time managing to banter and ad lib a bit with the audience which I've been trying to do more and more often and am getting better at. I come off stage to a fantastic response and feel so good about what I've done. But the best thing about the gig happened about ten minutes later.

I'd been outside having a cigarette and had been asked to do the Reading Pride festival and as I was walking trhough the bar I saw the two girls who now seemed to be a lot more overt that they were together, beaming smiles and a fuck you attitude to anyone who might think less of them for it. It's little things like that that are the reason I do what I do, and it made me feel good.

So yes, I'll be catching up on what I've done over the next few days whilst I've got internet acess, so you've got Glastonbury, my gig, the death of Bernard Manning, Gay gigs and why I love Jonathan Mayor and The Funny Women Competition to look forward to as well as the story of what's gone on in my life outside comedy, the moving house the parties and the reasons I've had to put part of my life firmly in the past forever.

Until then I love you all with all my heart.

BB xXx

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