I stayed up late last night as I couldn’t sleep properly after having napped at 6pm –ish, so finally I went to bed at 4am. I had a multiple horrific type nightmare. I got out of bed in the dark, I didn’t know where I was, I banged my knee off the bedstead and tried hard to familiarise myself with the apartment. I rarely stay in the same one twice, so it’s hard to recall where light switches and the layout of the place.
So I managed to get into the hall and my brain was all fuggy, I was scared and confused as I desperately slid my hands on the walls that surrounded me looking for light switches.
Finally my hand felt something metal on the wall and I clicked it on, the light scorched my eyes, my brain was telling me to go back into the bedroom to find my phone and check what time it was as all the heavy drapes were pulled and I couldn’t tell from the sky outside what time of day or night I was in. My heart was pounding from the fear of the dream…nightmare dream to be honest.
The marble floor in the bathroom was warm and I remembered the under floor heating, but I was sweating and my hands felt sticky, I looked at my outstretched palms and my eyes could hardly take in what I was seeing, they were covered in blood…I turned to run out of the bathroom but the floor slipped beneath me and there standing in the hall was a man…I didn’t know who he was, I tried to scream but he leapt in one movement and grabbed my throat and held me down.
I saw his face as he got closer, I could see bits of flesh hanging off and his blood dripped into my eyes and made me blind. I tried to catch my breath and he took one fist and punched me hard in the chest and I felt my lungs empty in one swift gasp. I lay there and let the darkness swallow me and as my eyes cleared I saw a wee girl sitting in the shower, her nightdress was familiar, though I don’t know how, she was wet and shivering and begging for me to help her, but I couldn’t, I did try to get up but the man put his feet on my neck and reached over and grabbed the wee girl out of the shower. As she was pulled past me, she stared at me crying yet keeping eye contact and I recognised her…it was me when I was small. I know her and I felt her fear as she passed me.
I tried to shout at the man as he pulled her body across the bathroom floor, she reached out her hand to me to pull her back but my arms wouldn’t move and the man just stood her up and dragged her nightdress over her head, she stood there naked and I saw her skinny ribs on her back, she was covered in bruises and then…she just walked with him into the bedroom and I lay there shouting but nothing came out. I lay there and could hear her screaming as he panted. Then I woke up.
One day this will stop and I will save her, maybe not today.

So I went to Aberdeen, did the gig came back to the tiny bed and breakfast that had more rules than Barlinnie High Security prison. I stayed awake as I had a 6am flight to go to London to take part in the Trisha Goddard Chat show on UK national TV in UK.

The show was a one off special about child abuse, I was on to talk about my book and my own past abuse as they wanted someone who was a ‘survivor’ on the show and that was my role. I was so very tired when I got on the plane at 6am. I sat beside a chatty woman and I wanted to kill her “So what do you think of hardcore fisting porn?” I asked her and she never spoke the rest of the journey. That’s works every time.

I was so tired when I got off, but my hair was perfect as I had spent the whole night fussing with it when I had nothing else to do in Aberdeen. My driver was there to take me straight to the TV studios, I got there, was welcomed in, got the make up girl in to literally paste me in her entire collection of face colourings, then got changed into the nice outfit I picked and then almost fell asleep.

I was getting worried as the TV Company had not received my book so I called my publisher and they biked one over, it came just in time for the filming.
The show went up and there was a few women on talking about their sexual abuse experiences, it was heart wrenching. I then got my moment to talk about my life, my book and Trisha was awesome. What a lovely woman.

So then I left the show and was whisked off to the amazing flat in Westminster ( I will never stop bigging up these apartments and will be in Dumase’s debt forever for her constant help, she is the sassiest chick in London).

I promptly fell asleep at the flat and woke up to about fourteen fucking annoying phone calls, but one was amazing I have been invited to the VIP party of the BRIT awards, these are the UK’s premier Music Awards….am so excited.
Maybe 50 cent will be there and ask me to marry him or at the very least casual sex?

So I slept too much again, I almost died when my alarm woke me up to get myself to the dentist for the ongoing treatment I am getting for my new smile. I lay on his couch and almost slept with my mouth open.

He proceeded to start working on my new crown and preparing my teeth for the veneers that he is putting on next week. This involved scratching the front of my teeth to make them rough enough to hold the small shells that are whiter than my old yellow choppers…which actually are whiter since I have been using the night time bleaching treatment.

I hate the night time bleaching thing, I have to squeeze this clear gel into these rubbery mouth forms that fit over my teeth, I hate them as I cannot sleep with them in, so there is a true fact that women cannot sleep with something in their mouths …men take note!

So I now have rough front teeth that make me feel like a wee cats tongue is in there. As I run my tongue over my teeth its like roughcast walls!
I start my comedy with confidence workshops tomorrow with the local teenagers and I am so looking forward to it.

I also took bookings today for gigs in Holland in April, I love gigs in Amsterdam, and the people are amazing there. The only thing that bothers me is, I am getting stressed with all the travelling, I hate the packing, the unpacking, the trains, planes and taxis…makes me cranky as fuck to be honest. It feels so good to be on my own sofa.

I need to stop moaning about it all, as it is stupid to keep moaning about it as I chose this life!

I read today in the Scottish press that a young girl aged eleven is being treated for heroin addiction, I cant tell you how awful that is especially as I have been working with the heroin addiction teams who are prevented from going into junior schools and making them aware of heroin dangers.

Can you believe that the government prevents them for trying to help kids?
That’s absurd, when my daughter was five years old, I took her to a young girls funeral, she had died of heroin overdose, I wanted Ashley to see the horrific final events of drugs and then I took her to every drug death funeral till she was nine and that was nearly fourteen deaths she attended.

My daughter had to see what happened, now I don’t assume that would stop her taking drugs BUT I do know that Ashley was aware of the results of heroin.
It does help to educate kids about drugs…as early as possible in my opinion.

You have no idea how good it is to be with my daughter Ashley, she GETS me, she talks fast, she finishes my sentences and makes me laugh like no one else and I love her so much it hurts. We sat there on the sofa and we chatted and she got a whole conversation in about “How did the TV people meetings go? How were the gigs? Did I speak clear? Was I funny? Did I call the journalist that called today? Did I mention to them about my show in NZ? Did I talk to the promoters for Edinburgh festival? Did I pay my cheques into the bank?”

Husband sits on the sidelines trying to chip in with “Look at the scarf I got”
As Ashley snaps her two fingers at him to shut up as ‘we are talking and we will get back to you and that scarf in a minute’ he gets it and hushes as she carries on updating everything and processing it all quickly in her head and making comments,
Husband can never do all that so fast, he has to analyse everything and slowly talk through it…how I miss her quick talk!

Had fun on the flight coming home…husband sat away from me as he needed leg room and I sat alone. As the flight landed, and I mean after it landed and was taxiing into the place where planes park to let us off, I switched my phone on and took a call from a very popular TV show that are asking me to come on a s a guest…it was exciting news and I listened to the answer machine message.

I watched the plane come to a full stop and as I stood up after the seat belt sign clicked off a big man in a checked shirt in front of me was standing up already and said “You are not supposed to turn you phone on when the plane is taxiing”
Everyone looked at me as they were struggling and rushing (why, the fucking plane doors aren’t opened, you won’t get off any faster) they all stared at me in hushed silence.

“Yes, I know I almost made the plane crash in mid flight as it was on the ground…shut up, mind your business, the pilot is probably on his mobile, it is scientifically proven that it wont interfere and we ARE ON THE GROUND”
He stood there and repeated it “You are not supposed to switch on your phone”
Ok I know this but we were almost at a stop, so I added “What’s wrong? are you a frustrated airhostess?”

By this time people were so close to us and watching it unfold, husband was shaking his head across the aisle as he knew I would not back down
“I was trying to see how my mum was doing in hospital” I added with a sad face. Now I know that wrong and my mum is dead but he was annoying me and I was determined to win this, even if I had to hit below the belt.

The airhostess looked at us and said “What is going on?”
“That man had a rant at me for using my phone as the plane was on the ground taxiing, I feel vulnerable and my mum is in hospital, and whilst we are at it, he got out of his seat before the seat belt sign went off” The airhostess looked at him and shook her head.

I won. I am not proud of my obstinate behaviour but give me a break.
He looked down and shuffled off…I mean please do intervene if someone is running up the plane with a hand axe trying to kill the staff, but fuck off if I am using my phone…I am not putting anyone’s life in danger, especially after the plane is at a virtual stop…incidentally there were four other people using phones, all men…he never said anything to them.

Well it’s been fun being here, I do love London and am back next weekend for the Malcolm Hardee Tribute night at Hackney Empire. Malcolm was a comedy promoter and all round South London Pirate who died tragically this time last year. You can read all about him here www.malcolmhardee.co.uk

He was a fabulous nutter of a man, who was loved by many.

So I am looking forward to coming back for the gig, and I will be honoured to play at such a great gig with so many great names on the bill.

This week will be mental as I am starting my workshops for “Comedy for Confidence” with young kids in Glasgow, helping them using comedy skills to hopefully give them an alternative to sitting on their asses and possibly getting involved in drugs…though how effective that will be I don’t really know.
I also have dental appointments to get these nasty teeth fixed, I have meetings with a charity I am involved in and a press call…then I am off to Aberdeen to gig and flying straight from there to London!

I don’t know if I will have time to piss to be honest…
I have had great gigs in London, the one woman show at Red Rose Comedy club was a great night, I so love doing the whole hour as opposed to the short sets that I do in some clubs.

Had lunch with Monica today and she gave me some lovely birthday gifts, am amazing tub of Clarins body mousse and expensive mascara, that Ashley will promptly borrow from me and never return. So clever Monica bought me THREE of them to ensure I at least got one. I don’t like anyone else using my eye make up in case I get an infection, as that happened before at the BAFTA TV and Film awards in 2001.

I was in the fancy VIP toilets and a famous actress (she who shall not be named) asked me if she could borrow my make up to touch up and I reluctantly agreed. That week I got a big stye in my eye and I am convinced she gave it to me.

Now if I wanted to catch an infectious disease from a famous person then I want it to be ‘crabs’ from Colin Farrell…not a fucking eye zit from some silly girl who forgot to bring a handbag!

So I will be back at the BAFTA awards this month and am so looking forward to it. I am not taking make up with me, if it doesn’t stay on my face then fuck it…I am not re-applying it over and over again.
Talk to you all from Glasgow.