Here's Where the Story Ends

You probably know this song by a few artists. Whenever I hear it, I instantly think of a quite specific series of events in my life.

Step in my Tardis and I'll take you back to December 1998......

I was living in Letchworth with Jamie, but it had been a terrible year. His health had been an issue, his family had been an issue, we had lost our home once, and nearly a second time too due to financial issues. We weren't really getting on as we used to .. and then I met someone else.

Martin wasn't my type at all. Thin, lean, no body hair, very pale. Not the usual Bear of a man that gets my juices flowing as twere. But we hooked up for a bunk up, then started meeting regularly. Frankly, he was a fantastic shag. His willy was quite long and curved up and over, rather than as if it would eventually point back at him. Believe me .... that can make a big difference! This carried on for a while and before long, I started to have more feelings than just casual sex. But I had a bf, he was engaged to a girl ... couldn't go anywhere really. Until he then sat me down one day and asked if once Christmas was over, Id move in with him. He regularly saw me at home with Jamie and felt he could give me a better life. That was the moment I let go and fell hook, line and sinker for him. Romantic notions of a happier life are always a good puller for anyone really.

So I really began to think about it. The logistics, the reality .... with him working in London and me in Welwyn Garden City, we could move somewhere a tad further south to reduce travelling, we both drove but would we need a car each? What would the bedroom look like? Would he come out to his family, after breaking off the engagement to be with me? What would my friends think? Will Mother like him? Or better yet, would I finally have a fella that Dad approved?

One cold January afternoon, I decided to give him my answer. We were sat in his car, and he gave me a very blank look. And then tried to deny the many times he had spoken to me about whisking me away, telling me how if I left Jamie, he'd leave Kim. And finally that actually he had shagged some 18 year old last week and was in love with him.

Have you ever felt like the whole world melted away, every colour drained as somebody ripped your heart from your chest and ground it in a mincer?

There is kind of an aftermath to this tale that involves myself and a close friend from back then stalking him, but for legal and incriminating reasons, Id best not tell them in public. Needless to say, Cybill and Mary-Ann were a divine inspiration. As was the copious amounts of vodka and marijuana we both used to get through back then.

So that song was on the radio .. and it just reminded me of those times. The song in itself is a little souvenir, of a terrible year that makes me wonder why.

In other news. Saw The Producers on Monday night down at Wales Millennium Centre. Starring Peter Kay and Reece Shearsmith. We were sat in the centre of the front row - and I never want to sit anywhere else for a show ever again. Speaking as a trained musical theatre performer, I can safely say its genuinely like being on the stage! The show is hilarious. A witty, escapade of how a failure of a Broadway producer hooks up with his accountant after realising that with the correct insurance, they can more money from a failure than a hit - but how to stage a failure? So with a offensive text in Hitlers favour and more gayness than .. well I could muster, off they go. But what if they create a success?

The show is pretty much a constant, guffaw-a-thon from open to close. A few particular highlights would be:

Carmen Ghia, Roger DeBris's 'assistant' exiting. You have never laughed so hard at just an extended arm, I promise you.

Betrayed. A recap of the entire evening so far, including the intermission. 'Where is the spoon? Oh its in the lid!' Genius

Anytime Peter Kay was onstage. Show stealer and ad libber, but then that's what he gets paid for.

And the very cute Stephen Weller. Who comes on as a village people type leather clone at one point, hairy torso exposed.

The tour ends Saturday and Peter & Reece were only there for a few nights, so if you want to go and see it ... you cant basically.

This is the photo I took during the curtain call ... only on my phone, so this is an accurate representation of our proximity!

Spice tickets have arrived for next week. Its the work Christmas bash in Manchester this weekend and I have a ticket for Kylie in July. Life is good.

Oh and according to the diary section on this webiste, I am choreographing John Barrowman in panto this year.