sciatica part 2

On top of an exceedingly long and increasingly depressing winter, I need some joy. It’s not coming from my body, sadly. The pain makes it hard to find anything enjoyable.

I really want this pain and numbness to subside. I want to get back to walking around as it warms up…and I really need to start exercising again. Tomorrow I’ll focus on getting myself some possible solution, doctor’s visits if necessary. Half-falling-down all day long does not help.

joyous outerwear ballet

The OvercoatI am stunned. I generally dislike ballet and mimes. And yet I find the images of CanStage’s production of The Overcoat (based on Gogol’s short story & Shostakovich’s music) will not leave my mind. It was moving, well acted, immensely satisfying…and even had a “sad ending.” No matter; the show leaves you hungry for life, for meaning, for joy, and to listen to more classical music. Well done, CanStage. No wonder tonight’s 10-year anniversary production (& closing night) was sold out.

I really should do a proper review here, discussing how Peter Anderson’s The Man (uncannily looking like Jonathan Pryce) is at once a Brechtian Common Man and the protagonist of a Greek Tragedy, describing the brilliance of the choreography with Shostakovich’s more ambitious works, and the strength of the ensemble’s choreography and stage presence. I should talk about innovative rolling drafters’ desks that double as cabaret tables, scrims and sliding windows used effectively to separate scenes, and a suitably unifying wardrobe. I should mention the parallels to Chaplin’s Modern Times and Tati’s Oncle films. I might even describe in passing how similarly I’ve felt to The man when he dons his new coat (I even have a new purple coat in the same colour!), and how agonizingly upset I’ve been when a prized possession has gotten ruined.

But I won’t. I haven’t the time. ;)

CanStage Bluma, I’m expecting similar brilliance with next month’s The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Don’t disappoint! :)

sciatica & treatments

Acupuncture by mikefats from flickrOver the past 3 weeks, I’ve been struggling with left leg pain. It was hurting in my left rear and thigh, mostly when I walked down stairs & got up from a sitting position. I also found it got worse when it was cold or humid. 3 days ago, my foot started going numb as well. Only a very hot shower would help…and only for an hour or less.

Friday I fell down the stairs in the morning from the pain, when my leg gave out from underneath me. I decided it was time to do something about it. Calling my doctor came back with a sad reality – it was likely sciatica, and there was no obvious, straightforward cure. Palliative treatments were the only realistic option.

So I went for the next best thing. When I had back pain in Japan (from too much work and learning how to sleep on a futon), I started seeing my then-girlfriend’s acupuncturist & shiatsu massage therapist. He did wonders for me – the first few times, I left there laughing and skipping, I felt so much better.

Now I’m seeing a new acupuncturist and massage therapist in the city. (I’ll publicize them here if they do a good job.) So far I like their approach – hybrid, respectful of scientific inquiry. It’s feeling better…slowly…but there’s still numbness, tingling, and pain. But…I did manage to walk about 5km today! I just dread being on a plane for 5h tomorrow…won’t be good for my leg.

an atypical manifesto

il manifesto, by http://www.flickr.com/photos/hedrok/

I’ve been a bad blogger. I haven’t been giving back to “the community,” nor have I even found time to read what “the community” is writing. engtech says:

“…blogging is a 10 to 50 hour a week commitment when you include reading and commenting on other blogs. Blogging takes away from other aspects of your life. Are you prepared to make that kind of commitment? Is anyone?

I’ve realized I don’t blog here. I journal. I’m leaving a trace. It’s time to explain my motivation:

An Atypical Manifesto
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simon pegg explains british irony

Back at my last home, Waynemanor, perhaps the best thing about living there was sitting on the back porch with my 4 (or 5 or 6 or 7) housemates, drinking and/or smoking, and talking about whatever came into our heads. It was so much more fresh and immediate than IRC, where I generally “hang out” to catch water-cooler type gossip. It forced me to think differently than I usually do.

One of the best conversations we had was about humour, sarcasm and irony. When they first started joking with me, I used to cringe a bit. I sometimes would assume their jokes were personal attacks on me. They never were. My low-self-esteem and American-humour training just kept me from even considering the option that they were jokes. They argued that the Canadian sense of irony and sarcasm was used to hide deeper, stronger emotions. It allowed them a way to compliment me without being sappy, without having to be totally open about how they felt. Eventually I not only started to understand it, I started to use it. That’s roughly when I started to fit in with Canadians. (It’s also about when I started to spell colour with a u.)

Simon Pegg, one of my favourite comedians (Spaced, Shaun of the Dead, Big Train, bit parts in Look Around You, Black Books and Doctor Who), writes about this very topic in this week’s Guardian. Interestingly, even though my sense of comedy has changed since I moved in at Waynemanor (in no small part due to my good housemates-cum-friends), I still held many of the British senses of comedy prior to coming to Canada. I give thanks in no small part to WTTW (PBS, Chicago) airing so many different ones for so many years before Doctor Who. For instance, Pegg states: “The british aren’t against [heartfelt, emotional expression in comedy]; we just believe it comes at a price.” How true – I understood it when I withheld my emotions from others, but I didn’t understand it when others withheld theirs from me. Part social blindness, part low self esteem generally led me down a path of darkness and despair. Instead, now I look first for people to simply be scared to speak their minds, either from social pressure or intimidation; it’s made a big difference in my demeanour.

Oh, in case you’re wondering about Pegg’s description about outtakes from Happy Days in which Mrs. Cunningham and Fonzie are sexually frisky with each other being real or not…it is. “Ross and Winkler talk briefly about their characters’ relationship and how Marion called Fonzie “Arthur.” A never-before-seen outtake is shown where Fonzie and Marion are very affectionate with each other.

Cat watch: My kitty is a lot better, thank you. She’s back mostly to normal, and the vet said this week that the tube will probably come out next week. She’s still not quite eating enough orally, but she at least is back to a minimally healthy weight (3.2kg, they are targetting 4kg for her) and is active again. Now that the jaundice is gone, it’s more important that she get back to normal and start eating, than for her to be force-fed. I’ll post updated pictures once I have a working digital camera again.

post-cat-surgery day 2

Ecchi has kept down 3/4 of a (tuna fish-sized) can of high protein cat food, pumped directly into her stomach. I was unable to see her today, because I am very exhausted and need to save my strength to get everything I have going done in time.

Need sleep. More tomorrow.

tone it down, apple fans

The original 1984 MacintoshPeople seem to have gone nuts over this new phone thing from Apple. I am not really getting it – it’s a convergence device, sure, but I don’t see anything revolutionary, except perhaps the multifinger touchscreen, and the fact that it’s an ultraportable running OSX. I’ll avoid listing the positives and negatives in detail, because everyone else already has done….

I wanted to remind people of what innovation from Steve Jobs & his crew used to look like…and also a poignant reminder of the fact that these keynote addresses are about 20% technology, 80% showmanship.

Jump to Trunk Monkey’s copy of the Lost 1984 Mac Video. (And while you’re there, watch the trunk monkey videos!)

Oh, and Woz, if you’re out there reading this, Apple ][ Forever! ;)

existential crisis

Mini Sartre PortraitSome nights, I can’t sleep no matter how hard I try. Tonight was one of those nights. I sat in bed overcome with frustration, worry and fear, and I can’t stop letting it get to me.

I need help from you guys, my friends. For the first time in a long time, I’m gonna bare my soul honestly on this blog, because I can’t think of any other place to let this out constructively. Comment if you can, I need advice. I don’t know what to do.

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