Eddie Izzard Spat on my Coat

It's true, he did. In what's been the most tiring week Of All Time, I have over the past few days scripted an advert, dressed a set for filming, been to a very peculiar concert and gazed at my idol up close. More on the rest later, but for now I must tell you about the best night in living memory...

I've already spent much time waxing lyrical about my heartfelt love for Eddie Izzard, the funniest - not to mention most beautiful - man alive. I've made sweeping, yet true, statements, such as that I would choose him over chocolate.

Imagine my instant hysteria when I found out he was doing a couple of secret gigs in Covent Garden, in a 300-capacity theatre. I've seen him live before, but it was at Wembley and we were so far away he was the size of my fingernail.

Ignoring that the starting time was 11.15pm (I would have stayed up for a fortnight if I'd had to), I grabbed desperately at the first couple of tickets that came up. One for myself and one for Best Mate (who no longer needs such a coy moniker now she's become a blog whore and shall henceforth be called SylvieGirl, or possibly SG if I'm feeling a bit lazy).

They were only front motherbuggering row. Very front row. As in, nothing in front of us. As in, three feet from the stage with nowt but a bit of air between he and me. So close, in fact, that my coat now bears a teeny tiny amount of Eddie saliva.

Dear Eddie, he's lost not a speck of his zing, he will always be a genius without peer when it comes to stand-up. I laughed so hard my nose bunged up (strange, but true). He's also clearly read The God Delusion, which pleased me no end because I'm in the middle of it myself. Which makes me his wife and soulmate. Oh yes it does.

From an extended explanation, through mime, of why giraffes are lucky to not be extinct, to musings on Moses and the burning bush (he's quite right, it IS a bit odd that all those people decided to follow some bloke across the desert on the basis that flaming shrubbery told him it was a good idea). It was all new material and may herald a rekindling of his interest in, well, standing up. I hope so.

This picture, by the way, is a bit of a naughty one, as cameras weren't allowed in the theatre. I took it, however, simply to convince myself that the whole thing really did happen. And in my defence, it's not very marketable because he has a distinct aura of light and no face.

I've never won a competition, got sod all out of any raffle I ever entered and gave up playing the Lottery when I couldn't even snag a tenner. But I don't mind, because I was saving all my luck for picking those tickets on Wednesday night - and it was absolutely worth it.