I've got a sore throat.

I only just started to get over the last cold, one of a succession that has kind of faded but never gone only to be replaced by another one tracing back to the beginning of August, So it's really irritating. Echinatia doesn't seem to even touch this, so it's time to quit smoking and start eating right.

I should be working right now on an essay for my course, that's why I'm sat in front of a computer in the library. Suddenly over the last few weeks I've had enough gigs, paying me enough to live off, and as a result I've not been keeping up to date with my studies. I've not been in to uni for a few weeks now, though the last two were as a reslt of an error on my part, I thought that Reading week was last week. I found out my error on Tuesday morning when I turned up to go to a seminar only to find out that reading week was this week.

I've had an odd start to the day, I woke up crying due to a nightmare. I thought I'd stopped having them in January, ever since I was about 6 or 7 I've had frequent nightmares and difficulty sleeping. It'#s only really been since doing comedy and being able to get up when I want that the not sleeping thing has ceased to be a problem. Turns out no matter how hard I try to re set it my natural pattern is to get up around noon and go to sleep around 4 or 5 in the morning.

Anyway just after Christmas I finally felt totally secure as a person, it was the turning point in not only getting over a broken relationship I'd not wanted to end, but also a turning point in my general life, work became easier and I stopped having nightmares.

In the last week though I've had two. One involved myself and my old flatmate Hollie recreating a fight between two 16th century Shaolin monks (both of us could levitate) and she bullied me into doing it as I didn't want to, but she threw a sword to me and told me to pick it up, it was kind of like Jack Palance in the movie Shane. Which is odd considering she's a 5 fot nothing chinese girl. We then fought and I got quite badly cut up but I still slashed her across the stomach and then stabbed her in the face as she wouldn't stop.

This upset me.

Last nights was even weirder, insofar as it was incredibly mundane. I was back at the house my parents used to own, the house I'd grown up in. They'd both died and I had to go there to sort it out. I'd got Sarah to come and help me as my health was failing and I'd just been told I'd got terminal cancer and would die within six months. But I was trying to stay positive. at one point I went to get something from the room she was staying in, and Liv; her ex, was in there. She didn't see me as her back was towards me and she was changing her clothes so I left and went to find Sarah and we got into an argumetn about Liv being there when all this stuff had happened with my parents dying and me being about to die. She said she wouldn't make Liv go, I said I'd throw her out. And Sarah said they'd both go. She went to get her stuff and I trie dto stop her because I didn't want to be trapped alone in the big old house slowly dying with only my memories to comfort me, but she went to go, getting Liv, who I started crying at and yelling abuse at as she went to go, as I saw her face to face for the first time in ages I realised she was about 6 months pregnant. Sarah said it was hers and I tried to explain how biologically this was impossible, but they explained some science to me that made sense and then they left me.

It was at that point I woke up.

I lay in bed for about 2 hours after this happened just feeling really uneasy.

I don't really know what either of these mean, so if anyone wants to message me with explanations I'll take them into consideration.

I reckon it's just stress at having to get a load of things done on a limited time scale and me being totally unable to organise myself.

Anyway I'm looking forward to the weekend. It's Rosanne's Birthday tomorrow, and then Jason and Claire's wedding on Sunday, and I'm back at the Iguana in Chorlton on Monday, a gig which many comics hate but I always love doing.

I really should get back on to doing some reading. The title of my essay is: "There is no document of civilization that is not at the same time a document of barbarism."

Wish me luck

until next time, I love you all

BB xXx

Ok back to my write up of the comedy festival. I missed out Sunday night, which was one of the best gigs I've ever been to. Brendon Burns, watching him work it's just again heartening, the previous night watching Scott Capurro doing what he does and not giving a shit what'll please a crowd, and then the next night watching Brendon finally vindicated after 10 consecutive Edinburgh shows and 17 years in the business.

When I've been going that long I really hope I've managed to get somewhere near that level of energy and ability to get what I want to say across with such use of language. Maybe I will maybe I won't but talking With DUg whilst watching this it was clear that we had the same ideas, though Brendon's Thought processes are closer to Dug's, with a wry smile and that level of total arrogance that I love from Dug's total unwavering self confidence his reply to my sugestion that "I can't wait until we've been going 17 years and can put a show together like that." Dug said "I reckon I'll be able to in under 10."

He probably will.

After the show we all went for a meal, it was good to sit and chat with Brendon, it's the first time I'd seen him since he won the if.comeddie award and things were going really well for him.as we left him to head back to his hotel and we crossed piccadilly gardens, it was now exactly a week until my show, and aside from one run through I'd still not got it together.

The Monday at my gig was great, as detailed int he previous Blog. though I don't think I mentioned that my sister came to the gig, she was over at The Frog first watching Dug, who, she told me, had had a bad one, I later found out it was a combination of Fiona Abernethy going on immediately before him and doing a whole bunch of drug based material and seeing this sites own Steve Bennett sat there reviewing it. So he choked, had a bad gig, it happens to all of us, I just think it hits him more because for him it happens so rarely. in nearly a hundred gigs he's died twice and stormed it far too many times.

Anyway that's not what I was talking about. My sister came to my gig and I didn't die. Actually that story's not that interesting really is it? I believe I'm on record a number of times talking about dying on my arse at Mitrth Control West Hampstead about 4 years ago. I'd done about 10 gigs and this (along with a whole bunch of other stuff from "comics" and comics, and "promoters" and general internet trolls) was enough to make me quit comedy entirely. It took a year to get over this and get back to gigging, the date I got back to gigging is the date that I consider I started from. Again, unnecessary exposition, there's no need for that.

So anywaylast time my sister came to see me I got drunk before going on stage, and 14 pints the worse for guiness I died and over ran horribly. That was the only time any of my family came to see me so not dying suddenly put into the past all the bad feelings.

Tuesday was Dave longley and Jason Cook. Dave did a load of new stuff and talked about the "incident" in Liverpool involving him and a Rhys Thomas/Madeline McCann joke, and Jason was Jason. Every time I see him he just gets better, he's just fantastic and once again I was crying like a knocked-up schoolgirl at the end of the show.

You might have noticed that sone of the details of what have happened seem to have gone from my mind. I knew I'd left it too late to do a full catch up. so here's a quick run down of the rest of the festival:

Wednesday: Richard Herring, and the Late night Asylum. Richard's show was brilliant and again another example fo someone not pandering to whata stag and hen based audience want whilst still being able to entertain them should the need arise. Late night Asylum, Barry Dodds getting electrocuted, (watch the video on youtube, it's fantastic http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GJ-VXRx5rGA ) Me getting down to my bra and pants to publicise my show:

and then a journey home again afterwards.

Thursday, this is where things get weird. It's the day before a mammoth weekend; Friday the Comedy Store, Saturday watching TIm Minchin, Sunday Shrewsbury, Monday my Show, and Tuesday Cheeky Monkey in Birmingham. For tonight though I've got a night off. My friend Alex is free this evening as well so we agree to meet up and go off to see Glenn Wool. I meet her in the Old Pint Pot in Salford where she's sat chatting with Jen, the new Vanilla dancer and some time fashion student, we have a laugh and a chat and then head off to central Manchester for the gig.

I park up the car on Tib Street, and we go off to TV21 to see Glenn's show, it's fantastic, and the 30 minute encore at the end is fantastic. we head off up to the bar and hang out there for a while, other acts from next door come in and soon along with Alex and Glenn and Rob Rilley; Barry Dodds, Wayne Williams, Vladimir McTavish, Kev Rook, Leanne and Ros turn up as well as Mike Newell. So we're all laughing and chatting and getting on well, and it's getting late so we head on over to Cruz for some late night shenannigans. I head to Vanilla to pick up some posters and some flyers and agree to meet up with the guys in the club. WHilst there I get a phone call telling me that they can't get in so they've gone to Charlies Karaoke bar. I call Alex who's walking down there with Barry to let her know, and I meet them in there.

Shortly after this Alex gets a call saying that one of her friends in Cruz has been punched in the face, so we head off down there, and inside I get chatting to some girls I know from Vanilla but who I've not really spoken to before. It soon turns out that the girl was fine and just over reacting (there is no over reacting to getting punche dint he face I know, but I strongly suspect she wasn't) anyway shortly after we've poured her into a taxi we head back to my car. It's 4am by the time we get to Tib Street.

Where my car was there's nothing.

Well, not "nothing" exactly, there's a small pile of broken glass. Alex tells me I'm forgetting where I parked my car. I tell her that's not the case. I phone the police and report it stolen. Alex looks at me and says "are you alright? give me a hug." I do and start to cry a little bit. we walk over to the CCTV camera and call the number on the bottom of it and leave a message. Whoever took my car was fairly daring, on a well lit street just up from a Jazz Club with lots of people milling about and with a CCTV camera trained on it.

As we walk back to the village to get a cab back to Alex's house I tell her the only thing that I'm upset about losing is my Photo Album. My past is very important to me, and on my 21st Birthday my mum gave me a photo album with all the pictures of me growing up that they had, along with the negatives. I ususally keep this safe at home, but Alex had asked to see a photo of me from before I transitioned, so I'd brought it with me, also there's a really cute picture of me as a 3 year-old that I wanted to get blown-up for my show.

By the time we get to the cab office I've rationalised it to "Well, on the upside I don't need to clean it anymore, and I can get a car of the same value but with a lower milage!" She's also agreed to drive me to London for the Comedy Store. Close to 5:30 we got back to hers, I slept in her bed and she took the couch.

by 6 I'm starting to drift off to sleep.

7:30 I get a call from the police with a crime number and some news. They found my car with the windows broken shortly after someone broke in to it, and so that it didn't get stolen they towed it to a garage to be looked after. Brilliant! this is good news. I take the details and drift back off to sleep.

8:30 The council phone me to tell me that they'll look at the CCTV footage and pass it on to the police if they see anything. I drift back off to sleep.

9:15 a guy from the Metro calls to ask me to send them in a picture of me for their pick of the day, it turns out my show is going to be one of their picks of the day on Monday. I take the info and fall back to sleep.

10:00 Sean, Alex's flat mate has left his phone in her room and the alarm goes off. I turn it off and go back to sleep.

11:00 my phone battery is low and so vibrates, waking me. I decide not to even try and sleep any more and get up. I phone the inurace company and Autoglass to get them to come and sort out my car. I then phone the garage to see about getting Autoglass downt here to fix the car so I can go off to London. The guy at the garage says they won't let Autoglass on to the site and if I want my car back it's going to cost me £105, for the towing and the storage and admin. I phone my mum to ask her for a massive favour and she pays it whilst getting totally stressed out at me. I call Autoglass back and cancel asking them to mend it at Sarah's house.

Alex gets back from Dropping Sean off at work and tells me her car's not going to be able to make it to London. Suddenly I need to find another way of getting there, she gives me a lift to central Mancester and I head into HMV to ask Sarah 2 if I can borrow her car. She says I can and then disappears off to get the keys. SHe comes back a minute later and says she forgot she's driving Steve to Liverpool that night.

It's 2:30, the only way I can make it to London in time now is if I get the train. We head over to the Garage to get the car and I have to wait for 45 minutes for them to sort it out. When it arrives both windows on the drivers side are smashed. the guy gets out of the car and looks at me, then looking back at the car says "Would you look at the state they've made of that,!" referring to the fact that there's rubbish all over the place and cds and stuff just generally thrown around, then as if to emphasise the point "Bloody animals!" I give him an uneasy "Yeah!, looks like they've emptied a bin in there!" not wanting to tell him that apart fromt the broken glass it looks exactly as I left it.

I've got 15 minutes to get the car back to Crewe before the bank closes for the weekend. I've no cash and no cash card, I need to get to the bank for that so I can get the train to London.

4:30 I arrive in crewe and park up outside Sarah's. It's too late now. I call Alex at the store almost in tears through frustration. He tels me not to be so silly and that there's no need to worry "about something silly like a gig here, sort out what's important, making sure you're alright and your car's alright." I tell him I'll call him in the week and my phone finally dies.

The evening is spend taping up the windows and calling Autoglass who tell me they'll be able to get a guy there between 3 and 6 am. So I'm stopping over at Sarah's that night. After the guy comes and I give him the keys I finally fall off into a fitful sleep, thinking, there'd better be a really good pay off to this. you can't consistently have something this bad happen without something good to back it up.

The only thing that was gone from my car was a bag. My CDs were obviously shit, so they took the only thing to hand. A bag.

The Bag that was in the boot. The bag that only contained three things. A ribbed condom that someone had given me during freshers week. My only other pair of every day shoes other than my pin stripe Converse that are falling apart. And my Photo Album.

Saturday I got round to Dug's and we went off to watch Tim Minchin doing a fantastic show. Afterwards I went to go and meet up with him becuase I'd not seen him since Edinburgh and we'd been keeping in touch online. Whilst waiting by the green room door along with a bunch of girls who wanted their photo taken with him, one of them said "Oh my God, you're Bethany Black, I saw you up in Edinburgh at Old rope, you were fantastic." This rarely happens to me so I was made up to hear it, and the other thin is when this does happen it's usually in a situation like this, when I'm in the audience of a much much bigger act's gig.

I said Hi to Tim and we spoke briefly, but he was busy with his fan base, signing stuff and getting his photo taken. He had to go before we got chance to talk and Dug and I headed back to Dug's house for Tea and biscuits.

Sunday I picked up Jason Cook and we headed down to Shrewsbury for Kev Bland's gig, just up the road from where Glenn Wool was performing for and Off the Kerb gig. the room looked lovely, and the bill was great, sharing with George Cottier, Dan Bland and Greg Cook. On the way down I had a really good chat with Jason about all sorts of stuff, the show he did the show I'm doing, his wedding. I'm really glad that I got to know him, I'm also honoured that he thought enough of me when I was first starting out that he took me under his wing and helped me get a whole hell of a lot better very quickly.

When we'd done the gig (I died, it was like wading through soup trying to get anything out of them) I was outside and a woman came up to me whilst I was having a cigarette. She said "We don't have Lesbians in Shrewsbury! Or if we do they keep themselves to themselves. It's nasty what they get up to." and she walked off.

Monday 29th October 2007.

It's the day of my show. I've still not really written it. It's a collection of stories aboutthe last 6 years in chronological order, a number of them I know are funny. but about 40 minutes worth of them I've never done on stage before and only know they're funny in a conversation if you know me. I've got the list of the order sorted out but that's about it. Oh and the music. And part of the end speech.

I'm terrified.

can't back out now though.

I get down tot he venue as they're opening and am totally unable to help out I'm gripped wiht fear, sweating, unable to catch my breath. I have a number of cigarettes whilst trying to calm myself down. 7:30 arrives and the doors open and people start arriving. Quite a few. by 7:45 I hit play on the playlist which is exactly one hour long, we'll start 15 minutes late, but from the second I hit play that's it. We're locked in. point of no return has been reached.

by 8:30 there's about 60 people in. pretty much full and standing room only. I give a 15 minute call and go and have a cigarette. my friend Sinead is outside, she knows it's my one hour show that I'm doing on my own with no support and still she asks me "has it started yet?"

I go back inside, get a couple of pints of soda water and put them at the side of the stage and Alex turns the music up as Amy Winehouse Rehab fades away and My Chemical Romance's song "The Black parade" starts, the lights go down and the music goes up. I wait by the side of the stage just trying to get my head together, I'm calm now, even though I don't know what I'm doing. Fuck it. What doesn't kill me...

Muse Supermassive Black Hole kicks in and I take to the stage. I start slowly and get some muted laughs, mainly from a crowd who've seen me before and so know the opening 5 minutes of my set. The first applause break comes with the first of the transsexual jokes. and I start to calm down. I'm not out of the woods yet. three minutes later I deliver the darkest joke I've ever written, about my Ex's abortion. I've never tried this joke out on stage before and it's a really heavy bit of talking which grabs them, they're focused and horrified by what I'm telling them which is a true story, then I've got a line which I hope will bring them back laughing. They do and I get a massive round of applause. I tell them "Thank fuck for that I wasn't sure if you were going to go with that, if you hadn't this would have been an awkward hour for all of us." I'm relaxed into it now and it's an hour of me telling my stories, one person heckles and I deal with that, and two people walk out, though I don't know why it wasn't during anything offensive. and then the show sort of naturally comes to an end and I stop thinking about the speech I wanted to write and just speak totally from the heart.

My voice starts to crack as I'm holding back the tears, and around the room I can see various other people starting to cry as well. Though this is a lesbian bar so the other half are all going "Hold it back, be a bloody man about this! Repress! repress! repress! You'll just make a fool of yourself."

I get to the end, Call-back and then leave the stage to the biggest applause I've ever had.

As the people leave half the audience wants to hug me. they all seem to have enjoyed themselves, a couple of people want autographs and their photo taken with me and I need to chill out. I did it. I did my first show and it worked. It came in at an hour and ten, but that's a good thing. I can do this. And I think I've got a pretty good show.

Later at the Wrap party for the festival I see all the people who've worked so hard over this last week. I try to keep Dug away from Steve Bennett, the reviewer for this site who gave his frog performance a bad review, I head home eventually tired but really glad.

And for the first time in weeks I just sleep...

I barely remember Tuesday, I search for any reference of the show, but no one seems to have noticed. Wednesday is Hallowe'en. My favourite holiday. I go to the cinema with Sarah 2 and we watch 30 Days of night (it's rubbish) and then she goes home to get changed, saying she'll meet me in Vanilla.

ten minutes later I get a call saying she's going to have a few hours sleep and then meet up with me.

I know she won't.

I go into the bar and have a chat with various people, who all tell me that they enjoyed the show. I go out for a cigarette and see this really beautiful girl who I've had my eye on, but don't have the confidence to talk to, is out with her friends. Outside having a cigarette I talk to Claire on the door for a bit. and this girl comes outside and comes over to me, and in a beautiful North East accent (Newcastle, Gateshead, middlesbrough, Sunderland I fin them to be the sexiest accents of them all, she's from Sunderland) she says "You probably get this all the time, but I thought you were excellent on Monday I really liked the show." I say thank you, and no people don't say that to me all the time and we get talking. soon enough she heads back in and I stay outside talking to Claire. About 5 minutes later she comes back out again for another cigarette and we chat some more. She goes again and I go in and stand in my usual place at the end of the bar.

She doesn't come over but I keep looking at her. I chat to some friends who've come in. Riv's DJing and I give her my ipod. It's Hallowe'en and I'm feeling kind of left out with everyone in fancy dress. Alex's Jack Skellington outfit from The nightmare before Christmas is fantastic, with an Ikea lampshade for a head. I decide I'm going to get with the programme and head to my car, I get one of my hats, the Bowler and head back to the bar, I go upstairs and do make-up round one eye, in seconds it's a Clockwork Orange.

I wander round for a bit, have a dance and then head outside for another cigarette. The really hot girl comes outside again and I talk to her for a little bit, she asks if I want a drink, and I tell her no, I'm not thirsty at the moment but thank you. she nods and heads back inside.

I turn to Claire and say "Do you think she's flirting with me?" she asks me what's gone on and I tell her. She stares at me incredulously. "you utter tool!" apparently that was definately flirting, she sends me back inside and says I'm not allowed back out of the bar until I've spoken to her.

I make my way over to her and we start talking, I offer to buy her a drink, she accepts, we talk some more, then go outside for a cigarette. She's dressed as a Zombie and is only wearing a vest top. It's freezing cold out here our breath forms into steam and I say "are you not cold?" she looks at me and says "I'm from Sunderland." All I can shoot back is "Good answer." we talk some more and she says she fancies me. This is the level of hinting that I need not to feel silly about making an approach, I tell her I fancy her too. we talk some more and then outside Vanilla on a cold crisp Hallowe'en night I lean in and kiss her.

I think that's a suitable end to this blog that I've spent 2 hours writing. I hope you enjoy.

Until next time, I love you all.

BB xXx

Well the Manchester comedy Festival is over, so I can finally manage to get back to a regular sleeping pattern and do some uni work. Just in time for a reading week, and as a result I've been out late and getting up at around 3 in the afternoon.

Ok I started to write a blog on the Sunday of the first weekend of the festival. I saved it as a draft and it'll probably stay there, I'll try and write up what actually happened over that week.

Dug and Dolan were house sitting for Jonathan Mayor whilst he and Leon were away in Orlando, so a fair bit of time was spent round at his hanging out with the guys and watching comedy DVDs, we really are that geeky. there's a couple of us who will do that and just talk endlessly about comedy, about the artistry of it rather than the industry of it, the industry's boring, once you get past who gigs where and what different gigs are like there's really nothing else to say. When you meet up with another comic and you need an in to a conversation you talk about that in the hope that either you or they can think of something interesting to talk about. It starts with "you gigged anywhere interesting lately?" and if there's a funny story about dealing with hecklers or an audience that turned on you then you can usually find somewhere to go with that but more often than not you just get a list of places that the person's played recently, which if they're at the same level as you is really dull, or worse irritating, especially if they're getting gigs that you really want to be doing.

It's a terrible thing to admit to, especially as I know that the only way not to go mad or get bitter is to not care what anyone else is doing in this industry other than yourself, you need to care about your own game, because no matter how much you talk about it or how much you write with your friends the second your name's called and you hit the stage you're on your own. It's a little test that the Twat-pack (our little group of friends who are concerned with taking our comedy to it's purest to find our voice and actually try and do something new and refreshing rather than spouting the same old tired and hackneyed subjects and topics, has this name) has asked each other, "when someone says "Stand-up comedy" what do you picture in your head?" and each of us without prompting has said the exact same thing. A black background with a spotlight shining down and a microphone in a mic stand. That's stand-up comedy.

So you're not supposed to care who's doing what, who's gigging where or any of that shit, it's about you and you alone, how you can be better. How you can be funnier, how you can manage that without dealing with trite observations. and for me and Dolan, how we can do this proffessionally as soon as possible because we're both totally unemployable in any other field. So far though we're not very employable as comedians with the odd bit of paid work here and there, though I'm currently getting closer and closer to being able to live off what I'm doing.

So it's the first night of the comedy festival and I've realised that I'm really down on the amount of cash I should have to survive through until my next Student loan instalment comes through. So the launch party for the festival is at the Store where we've been promised free drinks and food so we both head on over there, and it's nice to see a number of people who when I first started out at this I would gig with every night of the week, but now I see only at occasions like this. It's sad in a way but heartening at the same time, for some it's because I've moved on and they haven't and for others it's because we've both moved on and we're the most inexperienced on most of the bills we're put on they wouldn't risk putting us both on the bill together, it'll be a good few years now before we're back on the same bill, and in a couple of cases it's becuase they've shot on ahead of me by a long way and I'm no longer even in their radar.

Dolan hit the free beer quite spectacularly whilst I loaded up on canapés, eating my own body weight in caviar (I say caviar, it could well be "caviar flavoured generic fish roe" for all I can tell. To the connoisseur they'd say I was a bloody philistine, but even back in the day I couldn't tell you the difference between Glennfiddich Whiskey and Spar's own brand: Glen Bogie Whiskey flavoured spirit) At one point I saw Phil Nichol talking to Don ward and went over to say hi to Phil, we got chatting I asked him what gigs he'd done recently and then said about how I was trying to get enough to not have to do a day job, he told me he'd never had a day job and how he'd always managed to make enough from this to live off, before telling me he was off to the Hilton to do a corporate for two grand for ten minutes work saying "You should really win an award!" As he left I found myself saying under my breath, "yes, yes I really should."

Dolan was pissed and winding up Ben Schofield when we decided to leave and head down to XS for Andrew O'Neil and Norman Lovett's slideshow. WHen he got there he carried on drinking apparently getting more and more rowdy and offensive as is his want, I got a call from Sarah 1 and headed off to meet up with her. It was my old flatmate Hollie's 21st and we were all off to Billie Rox for the roller disco. When I eventually got there it was my worst nightmare, I have great difficulty dealing with loud music, and places that I've not been before, and large groups of people, add that to rollerskates and big groupls of Tarquins and Jocastas binge drinking whilst wearing neon leg warmers and "Frankie says relax" t-shirts in an oh so ironic fashion (the fact that they don't realise that this isn't actually irony is rather ironic, but yet not really amusing.) means that this is complete hell. In the mean time one of Sarah 1's friend thinks she's doing me a favour when I've just got my rollerskates on by pushing me, in this situation this is entirely the wrong thing to do and anyone touching my back or sneaking up behind me to give me a surprise activates my punch mechanism, but I'm on rollerskates so that's not appropriate instead I shout "fucking do that again and I'll kick you in the cunt so hard your children will be born on wheels."

The girl is gone by the time I manage to get back there, apparently she left crying and it's my fault, some guys who are pissed and older than most of the crowd, most likely heading down here to stare at the barely-legal teenage girls are milling around next to where my group of friends are and I can see them through their pissed haze trying to not look like they're staring at me, they keep looking and then giggling amongst themselves, one I can lip read is saying "Is that a bird or a bloke?" I skate away, I don't want a fight or an argument right now so I find Sarah's girlfrien Avril and we go for a couple of laps of the dance-floor. She's pissed and seems to be made of legs and arms that all want to do their own thing so staying stable with her's a bit of a challenge. Then two of Sarah's friends from the uni LGBT society decide what would be really funny would be to try and knock us over. They give it a go and I leave the dance floor so that I don't find them dove on them and punch their faces until it's a bloody pulp and I'm just hitting dance-floor.

I take my skates off and find Sarah 1 and tell her I'm leaving and to come and find me at Vanilla.

Almost instantly my mood lifts, I'm feeling better and happier and back to being peacful again, though at the same time I'm thinking that anyone who goes there is a cunt, and anyone who enjoys it is a cunt thatshould have been aborted but who managed to successfully dodge a wire coat-hanger which wouldn't have happened on my watch.

Later I give Sarah and Avril a lift home which is fun, I like Avril she's a much better girlfriend for Sarah than the last one who hated me. They really deserve each other and I hope that they are together for a long time and that they can make each other happy.

8:20 on Friday Morning I get a phone call, I pick it up using the same tone of voice as I did the previous day when one of my flatmates called me at 10:30 "What? Who is this? Don't ever call me at this time!" I'm just about to hang up when I realise it's Sarah, Av left her camera in the back of my car and they need me to bring it over because they're getting a coach to Paris to watch the Rugby final in half an hour. Still asleep I get up put my shoes on and drive over to theirs still in my pjyamas. I hand over the camera, grunt and then drive home passing out until 2pm.

I've already missed most of the days lectures so I try to get my shit together, I'm supposed to be meeting up with Bex before she goes off to New Zealand for 3 months so I text her to tell her I'm running late and I'll be there ASAP. She calls me back and tells me that she'd forgotten we were supposed to be meeting up and would I mind not doing so as she still had a load of packing. I told her that'd be fine and to have a good trip and that I'd miss her.

I still had shit to do. When I started writing this blog I'd mentioned that I'd started to plan for my Edinburgh show for next year, that I'd started writing it, and to that end, after a late night talking session with Jason Cook he'd persuaded me to just do it, to get the show together and premier it at the Manchester comedy festival. Bouyed by his rousing speech I'd immediately booked myself in to do the fesival. But it was now the afternoon of Friday 19th October. My show was 10 days away and I'd talked a lot about how I was writing the show and as of yet I had: A poster for it. The music I wanted for the run in and walk-on, The music I wanted for the rousing speech at the end and a logistical nightmare of an ending that was beautiful and poignant, but expensive and difficult to arrange.

None of this is actually a show, it's all artifice and affectation. I'm quite scared that I've just over a week until the night of the show and I've still not written anything. I decided to run through it with Michael. When I get over to the house in Moss Side he looks like a headache wrapped in a hang-over wrapped in a duvet. Dug's smoking and surfing the net before he heads off to work. it takes a good portion of the afternoon beforeMichael's even approaching human, it takes him two showers but by 8:20 he's ready to go through the show with me. I start running through the stories in chronological order, occasionally he stops me and tells me to say something funny, or to change something or he comes up with a joke relating to what I'm saying, eventually we get through all the stories and it doesn't feel like there's many laughs, but it's taken us 2 and a half hours, so there's definately an hour show in there somewhere. An hour show that's not going to be very funny from the feel of it.

We spend the next couple of hours watching DVDs, first off it the show Gas from 1997, Lee Mack hosting Chris Addison, Noel Fielding and Hovis Presley. Through out we first find ourselves saying "TEN YEARS!" at some of Lee Mack's dated material, and Chris' dated head (it's weird, he looks exactly the same but with a weird haircut that makes him look strangely alien.) Over this whole fortnight I've found myself wanting it to be ten years in the future now, so that I'll have been going 13 years and will hopefully be somewhere near where I want to be artistically, as I think that's about how long it'll take to get there. After watching this and seeing how good Chris and Noel were (they were excellent but they're much much better now) I start to feel better about what I've tried to do with my show. We spend the evening watching episodes of 30 Rock, which if you've not seen you should really watch it's fantastic.

Saturday same and I went to see Scott Cappuro at the Dance House, I'd not seen him for a while and I took Dolan with me, the gig clashed with the rugby and they'd started it early and as a result there weren't as many people there as there should have been, but it was still a good show. We went for a drink afterwards and a chat, he was pissed off after he'd had a gig in Sheffield pulled but it was good to catch up with him and see his show, it showed the value of stickign to what you believe in and not compromising.

The next couple of days were a blur. The comedy night at Vanilla was absolutely rammed, there were people sat on winddow ledges and on the stairs behind the stage, it was the busiest I've seen it for a comedy night and the acts were fantastic, Susan Calman did a fantastic job. Part way through her set three pissed up women came in who were on a birthday do, who were being quite noisy, though some of the Chav lesbians who were there took issue with that and tried to get them to shut up, I believe what was said was "Oi, shut up there's art going on here!" then when one of them tried to shout as she was leaving one of the girls followed her out and shouted at her, coming back in and appologising to Susan for the disturbance and the behaviour of the woman. It was a wonderful thing to behold, and it was part of the reason I started this gig in the first place, to try and get people who wouldn't normally go and see live comedy to come and see it.

It's about 3 in the morning now, i'll try and write up the rest of the week when I'm less tired. For now I'm going to go and watch some comedy lab on TV on demand.

until next time I love you all

BB xXx