Alison's Diary

Aug 17 2008

MONDAY

Louis is on a rugby course all week so has to be out of the house with a packed lunch and his sports bag by 8.30am. It's a shock to the system for all of us - but he is suffering the most as his teen hormones are currently cajoling him into sleeping as much as possible so it is with difficulty he is prised from his bed and made to go. I then dash off to Radio Forth to do my show, going via Urban Angel for a big coffee to bring me back to life. I find this is the best cure for everything. I buy an extra large one to make sure it gets me through the entire day.

I get Louis at four and as I sit in the car park I vaguely recognise the hunched figure coming towards me like he has dislocated most of the bones in his body.

It stops when he sees me and climbs slowly into the car. "OK?" I ask. "Yes, it was great," he says, barely able to move.

The upside of him rolling around in the mud for hours is that he will get into the bath without a UN-style negotiation. I shall never understand planet boy.

TUESDAY

Alarm goes off and Louis gets out of bed like a 110-year-old man. He climbs downstairs carefully, hanging on to the banister, and eats a massive breakfast before going to his course again. I wonder if he will make it home by car or ambulance today? It's my last show at Forth for the moment so make the most of it then meet my pal Anne, who is just back from France. Having had my hols a few weeks ago and faded back to grey, the sight of her all bronzed is annoying. I almost choke when she gravely tells me about a sunbathing injury. She whapped her big toe off a lounger and is hobbling round like, well, Louis. Once I have stopped laughing at her rather than with her, we say farewell and look forward to seeing Joan Rivers next week. It will be outrageous!

WEDNESDAY

Dave and I have our annual day out together and go to see a bit of free Fringe at The Stand. It is the world's first underwater radio show and we leave after 10 minutes. There are five people in the audience and there aren't words to describe what a cringe it is. Sometimes I want to be Simon Cowell and say: "Stop. Go and find something you are good at or you will starve." Have a quick drink to get over the trauma at a new tapas restaurant on George Street but at £6.25 a glass nearly pass out. We then go to see Weights at The Assembly Rooms. Now the day gets good. Great in fact. American Lynn Manning wrote it and performs in it. It's basically his life story and it's riveting. He is fabulous - physical, clever, funny and poignant. We stay silent for the duration and agree it's a brilliant piece of theatre.

THURSDAY

It's so wet the water is running in rivulets down the pavements. I'm going to a photoshoot for Catherine Aitken manbags with cute boyband Jakil. The meet is Carlton Hill and I stand under a big brolly waiting for the boys. Three arrive but the other, Mikey, phones to say he has run out of petrol. He is told to roll the car off the main road and get to a garage for a Jerry can of fuel. Twenty minutes later he texts asking: "Jerry or Jenny?" He has never heard the expression before. He has now - and loudly! He duly arrives, by which time we are all drookit. The boys are given their bags and we get the photos. Despite the weather and hanging about we have a good time and the pictures come out brilliantly.

FRIDAY

Big night. Twenty-five of us meet in the pub - I know it seems unlikely we all get a drink but we do - then pile off to see a stand-up show before going back to the bar for many hours. I end up chatting to Miss Bunny - a 6ft 5in transvestite from the Grease Lightnin' show which is on at the Gilded Balloon. She is lovely, glamorous and chats away quite the thing. I glance briefly over to see the man formerly known as my longsuffering husband. Very unlike himself, he is cowering in a corner and avoiding my eye. "Dave," I shout, waving. He seems suddenly deaf. Later, he asks: "What do you say to two 7ft drag queens?" I reply: "What kind of foundation is that? It looks fabulous." He rolls his (unmade-up) eyes at me and hits the bar. The bar is like a who's who of thespians, lunatics, comedians and liggers. Sitting there amid the madness, serene and loving it, is Jill Gascoine and Joan Rivers. It's a sight that makes me nip my leg. Am I hallucinating?

SATURDAY

Drier than the average day...and I'm not talking about the weather, which is still appalling. Tonight is Radio Forth's Fringe night, which is a showcase with Karen Dunbar, Jimoein, Craig Hill, The Soweto Gospel Choir, Jakil, my new best friend Miss Bunny and Sandi Thom. What an excellent night. It is in The Liquid Rooms, which I haven't been in since I played in a band.

Maybe it's the location, maybe it's the weather, but pints of lager are today's poison and they go down surprisingly well.

It's a great night - hosted by Arlene Stewart and Boogie - and the place is jumping. Afterwards we decide to go home and be good. It is a first - it makes me feel mature and I'm not sure I like that very much