My first day at Clown College

I have been recruited to make a fool of myself on stage to an audience of hundreds for charity.

As part of the Southport Comedy festival I will be trying to make strangers laugh for Claire House.

Claire House is a charity that provides care and support for babies, children and young people with life-limiting conditions and their families across the North West.

So I am now officially a student of the art of hilarity after I attended my first workshop on a stand up comedy crash course with Southport's home-grown comedic talent, Brendan Riley.

It was a gentle friendly session to begin with but the group is to be seen as a gym for the comedic mind - and I am in desperate need of a workout.

I have no comedy experience, that is unless you count the time I was waiting for a bus and I had, how to put this delicately? I had a builder's bum and was leaning up against the glass bus shelter - that made many strangers laugh.

Or the time I woke up in the middle of the night screaming to my husband that I couldn't see. I had gone blind, terror in my voice! It was only when my husband jumped out of bed in panic and put the light on that a miracle happened and my sight was restored. That always makes people laugh, or smile politely and move away.

But stand up needs so much more than a funny story, the delivery is everything and I need to make sure that I am comfortable enough on stage to deliver even half decent material with conviction to prise even a giggle out of a crowd.

That is the scariest part and I am hoping that the workshops will help me to do this. Otherwise I might as well go back to the bus stop.

• The Claire House Comedy Workshop Showcase takes place on Sunday, October 27 at the Ramada Hotel in Southport. Doors open at 6:30pm with the show starting at 7:30pm. Tickets cost £15. To book email me; rebecca.koncienzcy@trinitymirror.com

For more information on the comedy festival click here.

For more information on Claire House click here.

I'm not mad, I'm with a child

Sometimes I get frustrated by having to put down my cup of tea because a small hand is coming towards me with a huge bogie on it and the owner is demanding removal. And sometimes I get bored of going over stuff I already know, like 'A' is for apple and "yes six does come after five", yawn.

But, there are bonuses to having kids.

So many seem fixated on how we should be bringing up our children, what we should be feeding them and how we should be teaching them, without thinking about what is really in it for them.
Yes, your life will change, but for the better. No, not because creating a new life is so rewarding or because of the profound bond and love you feel when you look into your child's eyes. No, it will change for the better because now you can do all the things you have always wanted to do, without looking mad.

I can now freely dance at buskers in the street, that's right, dance at them. It's not weird, it's not embarrassing, I'm not mad; I am dancing with my child. Go on; just think about that situation without a child. The more positive amongst you are thinking 'Oh look, what a free spirit', but deep down you are really thinking what the rest of us would be if we saw a woman dancing at a busker; 'crazy, she has completely lost it.'

It is not simply a case of reliving your childhood, no. It is much simpler then that (or deeper, depending on if you are talking to a psychiatrist because you took dancing in the street too far) we are not reliving anything; we are simply doing the things we have always wanted to continue doing but aren't allowed to because of 'social norms and values'.

With a child by your side it is suddenly becomes completely acceptable to say everything you are thinking out loud. No I am not talking to myself, or worse the shelves of bread, there is a child in my trolley, I am talking to it.

Or, if the moment takes me I can play with the Lego blocks, so what if my child is in nursery that morning, I am tidying it up, it's not weird, I'm not mad; I have a child. I may also wish to enjoy a few precious moments watching Peppa Pig, which is not weird, it is not embarrassing and I am not mad, because lets face it some of those episodes are just so funny, and did I mention? I have a child.

You may occasionally want to do some colouring, with a child it's all go, break out the crayons! And I haven't even started on all the soft play areas out there. Oh. My. God. Slides, ball ponds, huge foam building blocks, so much fun to be had, and you defiantly can not go to a soft play area without a child, that really is crazy.

So, if you have just become a parent or perhaps you are contemplating a baby, or you're just fed up with your screaming child; just think of all the wonderful things you could be doing - without looking mad.

Behold! The God of Mass Transit!

I have never liked to think of myself as easily corruptible, but I recently brought a weekly travel pass and I feel like a God.

I usually buy day travel passes and have to rummage around in my bag for the correct change like a filthy peasant -if you have had any experience at handing paper money to a bus driver you will know how it is imperative to a safe, happy journey to have the correct change.

But, no longer do I need to engage in empty pleasantries while I purchase a ticket; no longer do I need to wait in line while the student in front counts out his fare in pennies (rookie mistake - this it is as equally annoying to the driver as Charles Darwin or Elizabeth Fry rearing their ugly heads, it's legal tender, dammit!); no longer do I need to struggle to my seat with the bus in motion as my ticket floats towards the chewing gum riddled floor.

Now that I have a weekly travel pass I can waltz on to the bus without even a sideways glance at my chauffeur, just one quick flash of my pass and I'm in, no questions asked. I can go anywhere (as long as it in in zones A-E); at any time (as long as it is between the hours of 6 am and midnight); on any mode of travel (as long as it is owned by specified transport provider): I feel like a God. A God, I tell you!

I could easily get hooked on the power of the pass, the knowing glances from the train guards as I stride through an open gate instead of having to fiddle around with the ticket barriers, their eyes say 'This is a woman that travels, she knows what she's doing'. The envy of the sheep being herded through the tiny gates, you should have gone the post office, you plebs.

Realistically, I couldn't afford to do this every week, so when the clock strikes 12 on Monday I shall shrink back to being the Cinders of public transport. It is just way to expensive.

A recent survey by Santander 123 World found that we spend, on average, £782 a year on travelling to work by public transport and with incomes that aren't stretching as far as they once were and above inflation rate price rises in travel fares, this is a lot of money.

When I bought my new TV I joked how I was beginning the process of pointing my furniture at the most expensive thing I own, then a friend said how if she were to do that she would have to point it at her yearly bus pass, costing between £470 and £665 - more than my TV.

I could only imagine the power of near-unlimited bus travel power for a whole year. If I wanted the whole package -travelling by bus, train and ferry- it would cost over £1,000 for a year. For that I would be pointing all my furniture at the pass on an alter in the centre of the room and every morning crusading through the house to retrieve it, Indiana Jones-style, complete with a ball of unpaid bills from the doormat rumbling down the street after me. Epic prices call for epic daily usage, I would want my money's worth.

So, I am going to relish my week of extravagance, make lots of unnecessary bus rides, look down on those with pocket change and wave like the Queen from the window, for this week I am the God of Mass Transit.