Oh, What a Life, But I Love It!

Sorry it’s been so long but really, wait til you hear what’s been going on – it’s been glitz and glamour, with a bit of drama. Nothing like me then!

Right here we go – I’m going to start right where I left you. I left you on my birthday, didn’t I? Almost putting Inteflora out of business with all the hanging baskets and bouquets of flowers I received.

Now, my birthday was on Tuesday, wasn’t it? So, Thursday night, just a little something personal with close friends at Chinawhite; well, you see, my friend Charlotte does a night there on Thursdays. When she said, would I like to come down on my birthday, I can have 20 people free to eat plus wine, I jumped at it like a drag queen would at a free pair of fishnets.

Tick tock tick tock – that’s my brain by the way – which twenty people am I going to invite? Have I got 20 people I can invite? I mean, I have a lot of acquaintances – well, now I’ve got thousands of them, but you know, true friends. Yes, I have. I’ve got them all in mind. Well, actually I only got to 18 but that’s fine, it’s quality not quantity, so they say; it’s girth not length - that’s what takes your breath away! No one wants to be annoyed or poked do they? I’m going way off course here, sorry, 18 friends.

Well, of course they all turned up, and we had a fabulous dinner; three courses, no-one skipped a course. Mind you, I did tell them it was for free. I haven’t seen so much wine go so quickly, not a spirit or beer in sight. I’ll tell you why that is, they would have had to pay for them, because I wasn’t going to!

As you can see, all of my friends are like-minded - if it’s free, rinse it; in fact, ring it out. After dinner, we moved on to a lovely private room with our own dj and a few celebrities. I’m not going to name-drop; I’m really not going to this time. If you didn’t see the Sun on Saturday 10th April, where not only was I heavily featured in pictures from my glorious birthday evening, it was in this very issue that I had my first PAGE. Yes! PAGE. Not a column, not a couple of meaningless words, but a whole PAGE!

Jeremy Clarkson was on holiday; not for long though. I don’t think he’ll be taking another day off in his life, not with me racing up his rear, revving my engine like I was in a Bugatti Veyron. What I’m trying to say is, I think it was pretty amazing - I never thought I’d be writing a page for the Sun. I didn’t even get put in for English at school; in fact, I didn’t get put in for any exams. No, I’m lying - I was going to do my art exam, until I got kicked out of the class for telling the teacher she had halitosis. Lucky I didn’t continue, telling her about her greasy hair, and that she stank of piss! I’d have been kicked out of school! And, considering my dad had taken out a second mortgage to send me there (this was when I was at Italia Conti stage school), I think I would have been homeless at a very young age.

Anyway I’m rambling again, aren’t I? I’m going off course, can someone stop me doing this? Right, so that was my birthday dinner party on Thursday 8th of April. 9th, 10th and 11th, getting myself ready for my lastminute.com free holiday! Yes, you did read right, Free! Well, not exactly free; it’s a bit like, you scratch my back I’ll scratch yours. I wouldn’t normally bother with backs, but hey! So, this is how it works - I get to go on their website, lastminute.com that is, and choose any holiday in the world, regardless of the price. Yes, I can see you all thinking, St Lucia, Bahamas, Thailand, just Paradise! Well, in fact, for me it’s my worse nightmare. I’ll tell you why - I hate flying, but you’ve got to live your life, you’ve got to get through your fears. And I did mention it was free, didn’t I?

So, this is how I dealt with it. I needed to go to the closest place that was going to be hot - it was one of the Canaries. Now, my first choice was going to be Gran Canaria, because it’s very gay-friendly. I’ve never been, but apparently it is.

Unfortunately, they weren’t flying on the days I needed to fly, which was Sunday to Sunday, because I had to be back – this is where the scratching comes in – to do a viral commercial for lastminute.com, for the free holiday.

So it ended up being Tenerife. I picked the most expensive hotel I could find, which was the Gran Hotel Bahia del Duque; I just called it Hotel Ducky! After palpitating during the whole flight, yes, 4 hours of palpitations, God knows I needed that holiday, if nothing, just to get over the palpitations. But, I must say, it was totally worth it.

The hotel was beautiful, we had a lovely sea view room (we being me and my husband), champagne, and strawberries that had been dipped in chocolate on arrival, drapes over the bed, and a bath deep enough to drown in.



Although I wasn’t keen on the disability bar on the wall, I would have made it more of a design feature, rather than your classic bar-on-wall. It could have doubled up as a soap dish. No, I suppose that would be a bit dangerous, wouldn’t it? Imagine that, grabbing for your disability bar, slipping on the soap, knocking yourself out and drowning. That wouldn’t be much of a holiday, would it?



So, everything was perfect, the food was wonderful, beautiful beach, gradually getting myself a lovely tan, starting with my high factors – 20 on Sunday, 20 on Monday, 20 on Tuesday, 20 on Wednesday. Thursday is the day I go down to 15. I didn’t get to 15! It couldn’t have been worse. What couldn’t be worse, I hear you asking? This catastrophic disaster that happened! Yes, the erupting volcano in Iceland. I know their economy is shit, but they don’t have to bring the rest of the world down with them.

Well, to tell you the truth, the last thing on my mind was the economy. It was F***K! How am I going to get home? My flight was on Sunday, and already they were saying that flights could be cancelled for the next week. By hook or by crook, I had to be back in England. I was booked to be on Jonathan Ross with Gwyneth Paltrow, Demi Moore and Robert Downey Jr. And me! Yes, me! You can’t believe it? Honestly, when my agent told me, I almost prolapsed, I was that excited.

I was straight on the phone to the airline – well, I say straight on the phone – it took me all day. They assured me that it would all blow over and I would be on my flight on Sunday. Great! Friday morning, not wasting another moment, I got sprayed from top to bottom, not missing a nook or a cranny, with my Factor 15, and straight on the beach. I had already missed a day. This was my last day of being truly relaxed, because Saturday would be the day I start to panic about getting on the flight back. So, it would be guaranteed that I would have a disagreement with my husband, taking all my fear and anxiety out on him. Thank God he’s an angel sent from heaven. I definitely would have slapped me, or divorced me, or something. Honestly, I can be an absolute nightmare when it comes to flying.

But you know what? I found something out about myself. I was much more of a nightmare, I became a night terror, when I found out I wouldn’t be flying. Oh shit, there were no flights! I took the airline’s word that I would be fine by Sunday, I kept checking the internet, and yes, I could see no-one was flying out, but I wanted to believe her, I needed to believe her, that I would be flying out. I was supposed to be on Jonathan Ross for God’s sake!

But then I realized, I was either going to have to swim the Atlantic – well, I wouldn’t swim it, I would have been on my husband’s back, he’s a much stronger swimmer, I do the dancing - or not fulfill this amazing opportunity that arose, like a giant – sorry I’m going off again, this opportunity to be on the most prestigious chat show on British TV.

Well, for those of you who watched on Friday night, as you could see, I made it back, unlike those Hollywood A-listers, who between them I’m sure could afford to hire a private jet and get around that volcanic dust cloud, and then get a boat. I’m sure it would have been a yacht, or a luxurious speed boat, or something. But anyway, they didn’t - their loss, but my gain. Being the only original cast member on the show, I think that allows me to say that my supporting cast on the night ended up being less glamorous (as I think they would agree) than Gwyneth and Demi. Well, actually no, I’m lying there. Paul Weller looked immaculate and didn’t have a hair out of place; but as Jeremy Clarkson commented on himself, he did look as if he had just come from a day at the bank. And I have to agree with him, he did. But at least he invited me on Top Gear; I told him I want to race around that track. I mean, Simon Cowell came second, didn’t he? I’m sure I could bang him up the rear and knock him out of the way for first place. Well, I’d give it a bloody good try.

Oh, don’t let me forget, I think it goes without saying, doesn’t it, that the most important person on the show is always on the Poofs’ tee shirts, and yes, it was me, hehe. And, if that’s not the case, just let me go with it!

Before I continue about my evening with Johnny, let me just tell you how I managed to get there. Take a deep breath, and live this with me, if you dare. So, what’s going to be the quickest route home?

There were flights from Tenerife to the mainland, to Madrid, on Monday, so I’m already a day out. I’m meant to be back on Sunday. This only gets me to Madrid. Tickets bought, next step, train from Madrid to Paris, overnight sleeper. Seven hours later, still no train. The phones are down, internet site is down, I’m going to be stuck in Madrid. Fortunately, this angel of mine, yes, my husband, who at this point is either going to throw me from the sixth floor or get me from Madrid to Paris, finally gets through, not to the train company but a bus company. Yes, a bus! This won’t take 13 hours on an overnight sleeper in your own compartment. It’s going to take 20 hours. Great! I’ve never been so happy at the thought of 20 hours on a bus.

So, Monday we get a plane from Tenerife to Madrid. When we get there we’ve got a bus from Madrid to Paris, almost there, just have to get from Paris to London. 14 hours later and someone answers at Eurostar. I can only say thank God for Skype, otherwise my mobile bill would have been a small mortgage. We’d like two tickets please for Tuesday, any time from 3pm onwards. I’m sorry sir; unfortunately we have no availability until Wednesday night at 7.30pm, going from Euro Disney. That’s fine, fine, fine, fine! Book ‘em! Tickets booked, I’m going to make it! I’m going to be on Jonathan Ross!

Monday morning, taxi booked for 8am from hotel to airport, arrive at airport at 9am. Yes, I know the flight is at 11.30am and it’s an internal flight, but I didn’t want to take any chances. And thank the Lord above, if He’s there, that we did. When we went to check in, the very nice Spanish gentleman informed us that our tickets were for the next Monday. At this point I think I would have truly shit my pants if I’d eaten any solids or anything the previous day. But, as you all know, there wasn’t time for food because we spent the whole day trying to get tickets to get home.

He also informed us that the flight was full. At this point I felt a huge wave of emotion and I saw Jonathan Ross slipping away. I minced as fast as I could over to the Iberia counter and told my husband to get me on this flight, which he did, at extra cost, of course. So, everything in place, we get on flight to Madrid, get off flight in Madrid, get on tube, get to bus station, get in very long queue to collect bus tickets. In the queue, three from the front, reference number in hand, all the shutters come down! Well, as you can imagine, I break out in a cold sweat, I start palpitating, hyperventilating, and scream at my husband, what’s going on? Apparently all systems were down. I’d like you all to take note that this is 7.25pm and our bus is going at 7.45pm

For a whole five minutes, which you can imagine felt like a lifetime, nothing. Then, all of a sudden, like a scene from a West End musical, 5, 6, 7, 8, window 1, window, 2, window, 3, down to window 12, blind, blind, blind, up, up, up! We’re in business! Reference number given, tickets received, we make our way downstairs to the coaches; it’s like mass evacuation, herds of people pushing and shoving, throwing themselves on buses. Although tickets had coach numbers and seat numbers, this didn’t matter, this was war. So, without blinking an eye, believe me when I say I went high kicking and back flipping into that crowd; it was the performance of my life. I know it’s women and children first, but you know what, they weren’t on Jonathon Ross! I may have taken a few children out with a ronde de jambe kick and landed on some poor pensioner coming out of an open layout somersault, but it worked. We were on the bus, bags and all!

But, as we all know, nothing is for free; it was karma coming back around like a boomerang. There couldn’t have been a smellier couple sitting in front of us. And what with the air conditition being stuck and blowing back our way, there was no getting away from this for 20 hours. My angel of a husband tried to find some good in this, telling me they may have been traveling for days, that’s why they were unkempt and stank; but I’m sorry, their fingernails were filthy, that was ground in. That wasn’t a couple of days of traveling, that was a lifetime of dirt. Anyway, we’re on the bus, I’m en route, we’re getting closer, I will take my karma along with the air conditioning system that seems to be dripping, in fact, pouring down on me. But, you know what? We got through it.




Hurrah! Paris! A wonderful night in Paris, spent in a beautiful boutique hotel all decked out by Lacroix.



This is Tuesday night, by the way; Wednesday, we make our way to Euro Disney, spend the day there then, yes, oh, what relief, we get on the train and arrive back at London’s beautiful King’s Cross St Pancras. It never looked so good.




Thursday morning - gym, get outfit ready for Jonathan Ross! And what a night! I had so much fun; it was surreal being on that black leather sofa. Well, I don’t think it’s leather actually, I had a little sniff, I think it’s pleather! I ended up high-kicking; no back-flipping, but I did end up crawling over the set being a pussy and spraying my territory, but it was worth it. I had a ball!

I just want to say Thank You to Grazia! I really loved my ‘Style Hunt’ – I thought it looked great. And I loved the Attitude article as well, cheers guys, or gays!

Anyway, I think I’m up to date now, and things should be back to normal - we should be running more regularly. Just how I like it.

xxx