Bonjour! Je m'appelle Edith Piaf! Bienvenue a mon blog. Bits of that might be French but most of it is a lie.

Last night I was in London, although I very nearly wasn't. They're messing with the trains again! I hadn't expected to get a train all the way home late at night - that's a luxury they save for the weekend - but it turned out I couldn't even get back to Cambridge without a change. Frankly the thought of it was nearly too depressing to go. And I felt like I had the start of a cold. But at the end of summer I promised I'd go to everything I had a ticket for as long as I was physically able, so off I went.

I went to the Barbican to see the lovely Martha Wainwright singing Edith Piaf songs, to celebrate the release of an album of Piaf's songs. The album was recorded live in New York in the summer and this is the first time she's played the songs since - clearly I had to be there!

When she took to the stage the first thing I thought was, "oh my God, what a dreadful top!" - sequinned with horizontal stripes, the kind of thing you'd find in one of those shops for the fuller figure that doesn't quite understand how women dress. I'd hardly got passed the, "blimey, that makes her look fat!" thought before she turned to one side and I realised she is pregnant - another generation of the Wainwright dynasty/insanity - how thrilling!

She sang songs from the album, all in French obviously, so I didn't understand a word! But she introduced each one, explaining what they were about, and behind her as she sang were screens with pictures and films on, so the meaning was pretty clear. They were dramatic and passionate, about lust, death, lovers, soldiers, hookers, and more death. Some of them were a bit playful, some really dark. She has a fantastic voice and always sings passionately anyway so she really suited the material. She had a small band with her: strings, trumpet, trombone, accordion, piano, double bass, guitars - and the whole thing sounded magnificent!

As an encore she sang Brother can you spare a dime, which is about unemployed soldiers, because it was Remembrance Day. Then La Vie en Rose, the only really well known Piaf song she did, because she wanted people to sing along - so we did!

When the woman besides me took her seat she said to her companion, "I don't like people singing French songs who aren't French" then hardly clapped at all during the first half. I assume she was hating it and silently tutted at her. Then she came back to her seat at the end of the interval, asked me if I was enjoying it and we ended up having a nice chat. Turns out she actually knew Martha's grandfather! She was only there because of him and Piaf, she didn't know Martha's stuff at all. So we had a good gossip about the Wainwright family, which was fun!

But even during the interval I found myself thinking how much easier the whole thing would have been if someone else had gone with me. But I don't know anyone else who is prepared to spend five hours on public transport to hear two hours of music. I did wonder if next year I should stop doing stuff like this because it's a bit silly, but the whole evening was so fantastic I'm glad I did! Despite the replacement bus service on the way home, which the rail company secretly described on the website as a change of train. Naughty people!

The Barbican was also rather marvellous - only two stops on the Tube from King's Cross, which is always a bonus! I've been there before for cinema and Art, but didn't feel like I'd been in the concert hall before, which is stupid of me as it was lovely - big, but with great views from everywhere, loads of legroom, and all rather stylish. I want to go back!

Yesterday was all about family. In the morning my own, who are proving slightly tricky at the moment. Inevitably Christmas is bringing out everyone's madness and I seem to be doing all the running around whilst no one has yet managed the words 'thank you'. Hey ho. Or ho ho even.

n the evening it was Ema's birthday party/fireworks/Halloween thing, so here family were there - plus parent and in-laws, with Trish, Janet & I all pretend family for the evening. Other people's family are of course equally mad but it's more entertaining to watch.

There were far too many fireworks, far too close to the house, so I did my usual trick of cowering behind the women near the door to the house. There were also lots of sparkler so I wrote my name with them, and oooh-ed and aaah-ed like a mad man.

Then we ate too much. There was enough food to feed the village, not just thirteen people, but like the troopers we are we made a good attempt at polishing it all off. I feel full now and may not eat again until December. Of course that's a lie as I already have plans to eat out on Friday....

Lovely to see you all! xxx

I had a nice day yesterday, pottering about getting jobs done: a bit of baking, a bit of shopping with mother - it was all nice and relaxing. So relaxing in fact that when it came to going out in the evening I wasn't entirely sure I could be bothered. Two hours in the car or two hours shouting at The X-Factor on TV - tricky choice! In the end I bucked my ideas up and went out - good choice!

I went to Norwich - again! - to see Simon Amstell, who of course used to present Never Mind the Buzzcocks before he quit to concentrate on his stand-up career. I'm sure that decision made a lot of people shake their heads and go, "no! what are you thinking?!" but I wasn't one of them. I stopped watching the program years ago - whilst it was usually still good it was also exactly the same, a bit like Have I got news for you - still funny, but somehow dull.

So, how as his stand-up? Well, completely different from his TV stuff and all the better for it! On TV he seems to take pleasure in putting down his guests, thinking he's better and smarter than them - which is entirely possible as some of them are very rubbish pop stars. But on stage he was very honest about himself - his first line is "I'm lonely". He then proceeds to talk about his relationships, or the lack and failure of them for the whole show. And of course he's gay, so it's particularly interesting for me. He talks about love a lot, which people don't do in stand-up - sex and relationships yes, love - never. It was almost like therapy. At one point he talks about dating at 18 year old, and says he only did it because he never dated 18 year olds when he was 18, and of course we've all done that, me mostly recently with the 24 year old. But he made it funny as well as honest. And he's ridiculously clever, I really had to concentrate to keep up with him.

So he was fab! I'm really glad I went out instead of wallowing at home. I'm glad I kept up my resolve to do stuff I have tickets for. I just need to book more stuff so I can do more of it!

Last night I went to Norwich to make another attempt at classical music, to see the Britten Sinfonia, who have become my go-to guys for this kind of thing thanks to the availability of £6 tickets.

As always it was a mixed programme although this time they were joined by a French conductor and piano player, so it was more piano based than last time. And I had my first experience of a mad looking conductor - he threw his arms around and waved his head like a mad man, but interestingly the orchestra hardly seemed to look at him at all.

The first peace was the best bit - Haydn's Symphony no. 83 in G minor, also called 'The Hen' because apparently part of it sounds like chickens clucking! Didn't spot that myself to be honest, was too busy loving the beautifully dramatic violin playing. However, it does demonstrate my problem with classical music - this was symphony 83 out of 106, and that's just one composer, so were the hell do you start when you know nothing about it?!

The last piece was his mate Mozart's Piano Concerto no. 14in E flat, which was more romantic and sound more like film music, so didn't work as well for me, although it did remind me that I still haven't seen the film Amadeus and really must get round to it.

The middle bit was the tricky bit - works by a modern American composer called Elliott Carter, who is till alive and writing at 101! It may well be good stuff - and he's been given so many awards that clearly someone likes him - but I thought it was dreadful!

The was a duet for piano and orchestra where the piano parts are short, random and apparently tuneless, the kind of noise a small child makes when let loose on the instrument. Meanwhile the strings are playing beautifully and the whole thing just makes your head hurt! Similarly a duet for flute and cello where they both seemed to be playing different pieces of music. And a solo oboe piece that could have been made up on the spot. It's the kind of thing I think of when I think of bad modern classical music and I hope never to hear it again!

Half the fun of the evening though is the audience, who are very different from a theatre audience and a bit thinner on the ground. What I don't get are some of the conventions, like when to clap and when not to: if a piece comes in three distinct sections and each one if separated by a deliberate pause, why does no one clap in between them, especially if the bit that has just finished has been magnificent?

And why is there so much bowing? Not just to the audience but between the orchestra and the conductor? And why does the conductor have to keep shaking the hand of the orchestra leader? None of it makes classical music accessible, it just makes it a bit silly, which is a pity as I think I could love it if I could ever get to grips with it properly!

Tonight was Guy Fawkes Night, or Bonfire Night. It's one of those occasions that I look forward to but which can often be disappointing, just like Christmas or birthdays but without the expense of gifts and a new outfit.

But tonight it was fabulous!

There was a large display in the centre of King's Lynn, in the newly refurbished Walks. I went with Trish and Janet and about half the population of the town - it was fabulous to see so many people out supporting it, and fabulous that it didn't rain. And the beauty of it was that it was all free!

At 8pm sharp the fireworks began and for the next 15 minutes I grinned madly - they were quite possibly the best fireworks I've seen in years! It was just one thing after another - God knows how they kept the momentum up! They were beautiful, so my ooohing and aaahing wasn't in the least bit ironic. Well down to the council, who organised and paid for it - finally my taxes are being well spent!



Of course the traffic getting out of town was slightly hellish so we lingered. And by lingered I mean ate chips, from a new chip shop called Chips 4U which cheekily uses the same logo as Phones 4U. They're just round the corner from the rough flats so I wonder if they should really be called Chips 4 Chavs? Anyway, the sausage was huge - always a blessing - and the chips were great!

Then Janet battled through the traffic and we ended up in Tesco for a little late night shopping. I got the kind of random nonsense that these trips are designed for, then there was just time for a cup of tea at Trish's before heading home. Lovely to see you both! xx

Wednesday really is the dullest day of the week, surprisingly even duller than dull old Sunday! So I brightened it up with a gentleman caller, who was fun and brought chocolate - my kind of man! Then I restored my energy with a Chinese takeaway, and right now I'm too full to move, let alone go to bed, which is what I really need to do!

I think I may be about to bail on the novel writing experience for this month - 5000 words in and I'm suffering from my lack of forethought - I had an opening scene in mind and nowhere to really take it, so I've been writing shite, essentially rewriting my own life, which is too dull for fiction anyway. I hate to be a quitter, but I don't want to put lots of effort into it if my heart isn't in it.

I got home tonight to find that the house next door to me was empty, which means that the awful neighbours have finally moved! Hurrah! Hurrah!

So in their honour, and in the absence of any actual news, let's enjoy my favourite moments from our time together, in no particular order:

The night the woman came home at about 3am and clearly had forgotten her key. She banged on the door half an hour, calling out, "Graham! Graham! Let me in!" Unfortunately her husband didn't seem to hear her. Next thing I hear is a loud bashing sound- she's using their wheelie bin as a battering ram to try and break into her own house, which is pretty impressive as she's not much bigger than a wheelie bin. But still that doesn't wake him up, so she goes round to the back door and smashes a pain of glass in the door so she can let herself in.

The night they play music all night, really loudly, finally stopping at 9am on Sunday morning - I'm guessing they passed out and didn't notice it was on - which promoted me to report them to Environmental Health, who wrote them a letter which prompted a certain amount of frostiness between us.

The night the screamed at each other until 4am, at which point I thought, "fuck it!" and called the police. Who then turned up in two enormous cars, which seemed a tad heavy handed! It shut them up, but we never spoke again after that.

Do you think I'm going to miss them?

The trouble is the house has always attracted unhappy people. I'll always remember hearing the couple who lived there when I first moved in screaming at each other then trying to work out what the strange thudding was. Eventually I worked out they were throwing things at each other! Several others followed, including the couple with the young daughter who wouldn't stop talking to me if she say me outdoors, and the single man who lived on his own then vanished unexpectedly one day, probably to prison. So part of me thinks that the last neighbours were just the latest in a descending spiral of awfulness - could the next ones possibly be worse?!

If you know anyone who wants to rent or buy a terrace house in a small market town, with a lovely gay neighbour do send them my way! But not if they're mad and prone to shouting. Or throwing things.