To be alive and feel the sun that follows every rain

The tonic for the misery of yesterday was definitely going to see Julie in cabaret on the King's Road. She was wonderful; incredibly focussed and very charming. I was particularly thrilled when she performed one of my songs, dedicating it to me by saying "he might need reminding what a great composer he is, 'cus he's had a really shit day!" I wept profusely. 

We got home very late, utterly exhausted, and probably still a little drunk, and I fell asleep on Nathan's shoulder whilst watching an episode of Scrubs. 

Today begins the process of finding the £2,500 I now owe The Choir Invisible. I have borrowed some money from my father, and will pay him back by making a giant piggy bank which I hope to slowly fill with money. 

The aim is to make small, regular cut-backs. Today, for example, I am taking the bus into town instead of using the tube. This will save me £2. I didn't buy a cup of tea in Costa before my meeting, and waited instead until the meeting itself, thereby saving myself another £1.70. I will put £4 in the pot tonight which will soon become £8... And, perhaps within the next 12 months, the target will be reached; considerably sooner if I find myself back in work in the meantime. I'm excited, and have decided to create another totalizer to show my progress! 

The process of moving on is a fascinating one. Obviously I'm up and down today. I've cried a few times, laughed a bit, been angry, been stunned.  I have, however, been besieged by positive messages from friends and family members, which makes me feel very blessed. At the end of the day, in fact, at the end of every day, I return home to Nathan. It is amazing how good it feels to be part of a team. All sorts of things can be thrown around a courtroom, the truth can be massaged, what happened can be interpreted in a variety of ways, but the  indisputable fact is that I am loved, and that's good enough for me...

It was announced yesterday that the government have taken a tentative step towards equality in the field of gay men giving blood. An imminent change in the law will mean that a gay man can now give blood - wait for it - if he hasn't had sex in the past year! In the past YEAR?!! And that includes oral sex! No gay man would leave it for a year without having sex! Imagine if they made a blanket ban on ANYONE who's had sex within a year giving blood.

And yet a heterosexual man who regularly sleeps with multiple partners without using a condom is still allowed to give blood as often as he chooses! In my view the blood screening process is either effective or it's not. And more importantly, a gay man is either equal or he's not. These baby steps towards equality make me feel very angry! 

Matt is leaving Les Mis tomorrow and has asked me to come and take pictures of him warming up and getting ready backstage, which is exciting. These kinds of environments are brilliant for photography. Actors like having their pictures taken, and there are always atmospheric pools of light, crazy props and shabby brick walls hanging about which give the images a timeless quality! 

350 years and one day ago was a Sunday, and Pepys, as usual, went to church. When he returned, he found his new maid, the wonderfully named Doll, so fast asleep that she couldn't hear him knocking on the door. In the end, Pepys' boy, Wayneman, was send through a window to let him in. 

Pepys retired to his study and got busy with his accounts, discovering, to his great pleasure, that he was worth a massive £600. He was, however, worried about the large amount of time he'd recently spent pleasuring himself with trips to the theatre and drinking binges. Once a puritan...

Worried he might have been, but the very next day he was up to his usual tricks, drinking so heavily that he couldn't do his business and had to go for a long walk to sober himself up, which became, you guessed it, a trip to the theatre. He saw Tis Pity She's a Whore "ill-acted" but was thrilled to find himself sitting next to a "most pretty and most ingenious woman." 

He went back home, and then immediately out to a pub with the two Sir Williams, one of whom drank himself into a coma, as a band of very fine fiddlers played on. 

Like a roller in the ocean, life is motion, move on...
Like the wind that's always blowing, life is flowing, move on
Like the sunrise in the morning, life is dawning, move on
How I treasure every minute, being part of, being in it, with the urge to move on