Category Archives: Random

It’s been six months or so since my surgery. I’d be back to normal afterwards, they said.

What they didn’t say was that back to normal meant back to the time before your surgery when you had sciatic pain.

It’s appeared in the last few days. I got an inkling of it on Thursday, and Friday was confirmation. I can feel a pressure again. Sometimes standing up (or lying down) hurts. Not as badly as it used to, but that’s scant consolation right now. I had an uncomfortable night last night (you think I always get up at this time on a Saturday?); a little targeted prodding near the site of the surgery had some effect, which suggests it may be treatable (I’m speculating).

I can’t think of anything specific that might have brought it on, except maybe carrying a bit too much shopping from the car on Monday (god, couldn’t it have been something a bit more exciting?). There was no “Ow!” moment that I recall. Maybe my body has just noticed that I’m doing some work for Tarantella again, and associates Tarantella with sciatica.

So, what are my options?

1. Do nothing. The typical-man approach that I took last time, which led to two-and-a-half years of pain, two hours of surgery, two months of recuperation and four months of painlessness. Probably not the best approach.
2. Hit it with a hammer until it stops hurting. Tempting. But percussive maintenance is not, I think, a recognised treatment for spinal problems. Even so…
3. Go back to the physiotherapist. There’s no guarantee that a physio will be able to fix it, but they are trained in the art of prodding backs so they might do a better job than me.
4. Kill myself. Long term, we’re all dead. Shorter term, however, the gains are small and the losses considerable.

Since I want to (D) live, (B) walk, and (A) do something rather than nothing, looks like I’ll be (C) ringing the physio first thing on Monday.

Bah.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. It’s a film, as Lionel Blair and/or Liza Goddard used to say. Six words, fourth word, the. (It’s also part of a quote.)

The film features Jim Carrey, acting rather than gurning. It’s Truman Show Carrey not Mask Carrey, thankfully. And the film’s pretty good. I guess it’s fair to say that if you liked Being John Malkovich (the one with, er, John Malkovich) or Memento (the one with, er, Mike from Neighbours) you’ll like this.

Saw it at the Vue (cinema, not pub) yesterday. (The Warner Village cinema with a lick of paint and fewer cartoon characters.)

Ironically for a film which could actually boast an original idea, two of the trailers that preceded it were for remakes. The Stepford Wives, and, fer chrissakes, The Ladykillers starring Tom Hanks. Guinness he ain’t.

Avaragado’s Film 104 awards ESotSM two tomatoes up.

And now our food critic writes…

Prezzo (ex-Michel’s Brasserie) was our post-cinematic excursion, via the County Arms (as the Castle wasn’t open) and the Rope and Twine (ex-Town and Gown).

Naturally we got the new waiter. Second night on the job. We had to point at everything on the menu and we still had trouble getting what we thought we’d ordered. His mentor/superior was a little stressed. We also had to beg for a little more elbow room, as the nine of us were shoe-horned into what I think the lawyers would call a “table for six”. We got them to lash an additional spare table on the end so we could spread out and breathe.

Starter: salad-type-thing, avocado, mushrooms, green stuff, red stuff. Most satisfying.

Main course: a crostini of some description. Too small. Snarfing of other people’s side dishes while they weren’t looking was required.

Avaragado’s rating: 0.74 sweet green peppers.

Went to Andy and Lisa’s yesterday to act as official portrait artiste (AKA most available person with camera) for Lucy’s first photo call aged four days. You’ve probably seen one of the photos, Andy mailed it to a million people. If you haven’t, think of Winston Churchill, all babies look like Winston Churchill.

Tiny thing, talking already.

(Ear-splitting cries mainly.)

Some of the other photos have come out well. In one Lucy has already apparently mastered the “please point that camera away from me” expression.

Lisa allowed/made me hold Lucy for a few minutes. I emerged unscathed, and so did she. I successfully failed to drop her. Lisa did graciously offer to let me change Lucy’s nappy, but I decided that Andy’s invitation to look round their soon-to-be-extension was more tempting. Anyway, green’s not my colour.

Just back from seeing new Brit RomZomCom Shaun of the Dead. Pretty good. If you liked Spaced you’ll like this, as everyone from Spaced is involved somewhere or other.

I wouldn’t be a good film reviewer, as I hate the way film reviews tell you most of the plot. Oh, all right. There are zombies and that.

Last August 20th just before redundancy, Avaragado shut down his development box, boston. It had served him for several years, desktop and server. Once sat proudly beside him, boston had been relegated to the server room to skulk beneath some more impressive towers. But they’d had fun together, boston and Avaragado. It was with a sigh and maybe a hint of moistness around the eye region that he’d wrapped it up and shipped it off in Bob’s Big Van to the other place, to serve a new master, to be the plaything of Mr Hall.

But Mr Hall had other toys. Boston lay unwanted. Unpowered. Until its former owner called again, contracted to the Squid to update a training course.

And so, eight months later, they are reunited. Today boston woke for the first time since that muggy August day. Dazed and confused, blinking in the sunlight, wondering where its network was, with a nagging dependency on tools.cid and not altogether sure of its name, but alive once more.

But his former master is fickle. He has another server now. And a Powerbook. And he’s paying the electricity bill. Boston had better watch out.

Random realistic Daily Mail headlines:
http://www.qwghlm.co.uk/other/dailymail.php

We went to the trendy River Bar & Kitchen last night (photos).
Lots of things to celebrate, including my birthday, Melanie’s
birthday, Andy Shire’s birthday (two weeks early since Lisa is due
today), Chef’s new job (in glorious High Wycombe) and Sam’s new job
(Bango).

There were 25 of us, which made the restaurant a little nervous
(“We’ve only got a small kitchen” said the man when I booked), but I
think it worked out. Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves and the meal
was pretty good. I’ve just about recovered.

Avaragado’s rating: twelve peas.

I guess I can’t get away with saying “early 30s” any more. It’s definitely “mid 30s” now.

Turning 35 means that I suddenly find myself part of a different demographic. The box I tick is now “35-49” instead of “18-34”. I am officially a cardigan-wearing, slipper-collecting, Radio 2-listening middle-aged man.

I’ve done my best to subvert this on day one of the new demographic by buying myself some new jeans and trainers and a new shirt. I’m not “trying to regain my youth” – I’ve always worn jeans and trainers and don’t see any reason to change. I’m a kidult I suppose (though I’ve never read Harry Potter, nor The Amber Spyglass).

I thought about finishing with a comedy burst of yoof-speak, but then realised I don’t actually know any. Phat, is that one?

…you realise you have over a third of a terabyte of hard disk in your flat.

Just bought a 160 GB disk for my PC (Western Digital, £80 from Dabs). Currently transferring data from the old 40 GB disk onto it, after which that disk will be recycled as a big bucket of storage in my Linux box (which has been struggling on just 10 GB). So my web server will be going down later today.

That will leave me with…

• PC: 60 GB + 160 GB
• Mac: 80 GB
• Linux: 10 GB + 40 GB
• Total: 350 GB

Cue nostalgia about getting 100K on a Spectrum Microdrive, my 80 MB Amiga hard disk, etc…

Today’s new word: flovie (n) flash movie

For 80s arcade game fans: MAME Jump. Also MAME The Night.

I apologise if I am the last person on the planet to hear about these.