"I'm not driving a mini-metro."

It was great to see Alan Partridge return to his much-longed-for home the BBC tonight.

 I've loved Alan pretty much since the beginning, when tapes of his early appearances in Radio 4's 'On the Hour' and 'Knowing Me, Knowing You' would pass between a few select friends who were in-the-know. I can still remember the first time I saw his face, in a trailer for the TV version of 'Knowing Me, Knowing You' - I didn't get to 'The Day Today' until a little later - and how excited seeing it made me; I was so obsessed, I recorded the audio of his ABBA medley with Rebecca Front with a tape recorder and would often sing along to it in Alan-style.

 The first series of 'I'm Alan Partridge' was a revelation, coming at the time I'd moved to college to do a BTEC in Performing Arts. Each week, I'd disappear to the upstairs bedroom where we kept our spare telly to watch the latest episode in near-religious style, to then pick it apart reverentially with my friends the next day. It was comedy gold that spoke to me directly, having started out as my little secret; reigniting my urge to be in sitcoms of its ilk one day.

 I love how Alan - like the best comedy characters, such as Dame Edna Everage - inhabits his own world, with an intensely detailed backstory that's been pieced together over years and is essentially fact by proxy. I've watched so much of it over the years as to feel I have an insight on how Alan thinks.

 To be in Partridge would be the dream job I hope to fulfill one day. To be a part of it would be extraordinary.

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