The first thing you need to know this week is that I’ve been really sick.

Well, when I say really sick, nothing life-threatening, more like a nasty cough and cold but I’m so used to feeling Californian healthy that I was morally outraged at this assault on my body.

Worse, we’ve had what the locals call ‘weather’, an expression covering anything other than the usual clear blue skies. It was a complete shock to my delicate system when the temperature plummeted from 110 degrees in Simi Valley (where I did the reality TV course) to a mere 70 degrees a few days later in Los Angeles, followed by two even more shocking days of rain.

Ok, so 70 isn’t freezing but there was much hunting for fluffy socks that hadn’t seen the light of day in months and rummaging for items of clothing that had ‘long sleeves’.

The sunshine came from a wonderful night at the tiny Sidewalk Studio Theatre in Burbank where I saw Scottish actress Rachel Ogilvy, see picture above, perform her one-woman play, The Crossing.

I met Rachel very recently at a friend’s baby shower and she invited me to see the play what she wrote. It did great business at the Edinburgh Festival and also got a really good write up here in the LA Weekly. The play was originally about the Forth Rail Bridge but Rachel changed it to the Golden Gate Bridge for her American audience, while still managing to keep the integrity of the piece (a nice touch came when we were offered a bag of kola cubes on the way into the theatre – a novelty for the Americans and a real treat for me!).

It’s a about a teacher, Rose, who is still coming to terms with losing her father at an early age, and I’m not afraid to say that it made me laugh and cry in equal parts. I took my landlady Christine and she cried too so it wasn’t just me being a big baby. Rachel will be performing The Crossing at the York Theatre Royal, in York next month, so if you’re anywhere near I urge you to go see it.

I always find a night at the theatre an utter delight, regardless of the fact that it’s treated as the second favourite child in this movie obsessed town. Theatre’s low class status is odd because you can see some hugely talented actors tread the boards at any given time (a quick glance at the local listings this week shows you can see Annette Bening, Matthew Modine, Angus MacFadyen and TR Knight to name a few).

But the Sidewalk is reminiscent of the tiny Edinburgh venues I did stand up in a few years ago, and with a capacity of just 34 people you get a truly visceral experience.

I’m always impressed with the commitment actors give to their performance, but I don’t think anyone in the history of showbusiness has shown more commitment to their art than the heavy metal group Anvil.

This Canadian band were poised for greatness in the early Eighties but for a myriad of reasons were still slogging away at their unfulfilling day jobs thirty years later, and playing to a slim handful of dedicated followers.

Then Sacha Gervasi, who wrote The Terminal and a long-time Anvil fan, came along and, on a wing and a prayer, made the rock-bromance Anvil: The Story of Anvil, thus catapulting the band back into the limelight. Their late success has meant that these two best friends, who hung on in there through thick and thin, have finally realised their dream of rock stardom well into their fifities. The documentary was so touching, heart-felt and comical, I laughed and cried at that in equal parts too.

After the screening there was a Q&A with Sacha Gervasi, and Lips and Robb from Anvil, moderated by Oscar winner Steve Zaillian. He wore a black leather biker’s jacket and I couldn’t help but think how unexpected it was that the guy who wrote Schindler’s List was dressed like a roadie.

Then again, there had been ‘weather’.