No, really? Where do I begin. 36 days since my last entry. Very, very, very poor. Let’s see where things are at.
June came and went very quickly. Too quickly, as it turned out – as I discovered that the car tax on the RX8 was running out at the end of the month. Equipped with the fancy form from the DVLA and the interweb, I endeavoured to renew it…. and, about this point is when I discovered I’d totally forgotten about the car needing an MOT… Whoops!
So, I quickly booked the car in for the service it was due, and its MOT – on the 4th of July, a few days after I noticed the car now required an MOT (being over 3 years old), four days into the month the car’s no longer taxed for. Erk. To make matters worse, this weekend was Katy & Mark’s wedding weekend, and I was due to be in Shropshire over the weekend. Time, as the saying goes, was of the essence!
It was also around this time that I became aware of a dull pain in my right ear, and the gradual hearing loss I began experiencing. Over the course of a few days between the MOT expiry and the wedding, my hearing levels in my right ear dropped to barely audible.
I was re-assured by the garage that it _wasn’t_ an offence to drive an untaxed, un-MOT’d vehicle providing the only journey you were making in it was to the MOT testing centre. Which is a good job really, as I was crapping it – convinced I’d be pulled over by the rozzers any minute. The fact that I’d been driving the car since January without an MOT and ‘got away with it’ (as a figure of speech!) was not lost on me at all!
The garage, the ever reliable, trustworthy and competant GK Mazda on Penistone Road, accepted my note from their dealer principal saying I was entitled to a free service due to all the fuckups they’d made, which was very pleasing. They booked the car in and handed me the keys to a fucking Fiat Panda.
I have very few words to say about the Panda. I do recall being impressed by the brakes – they were very, very sharp. The seat was very uncomfortable, and the ‘City’ power steering was frankly scary – why a car the size of a thimble needs an ultra-light power-assisted steering mode, I’m not sure – but the ability to turn the wheel full circle with the barest of force from my pinkie struck me as rather…. unsafe?
So, car booked in. I had a few jobs to do, then I had to dash to Sheffield station and get the train to Whitchurch, to meet up with Emma and the family, in readiness for the Saturday wedding. I did ponder with the idea of going to my GP to see about the ear ‘thing’, but I figured they’d only give me antibiotics, which I’d probably have to avoid alcohol with, so I never went. In hindsight, I wish I had.
I got to the station, and picked up my ticket from the automated machine only to see my train departing just as I ran down the steps to the plaform. Damn. This miss cost me an hour’s wait for the next train, and another 40 minutes at the connecting station, Stockport – and as my ear was giving me gyp the idea of plugging my Shures in and listening to my iPod didn’t really appeal. So, a very long time spent waiting on the platforms of Sheffield and Stockport for me.
I arrived into Whitchurch at about 10.30pm and walked to Emma’s mam’s – Emma being unable to pick me up in her car as she’d had a few drinks. The walk was actually quite pleasant, and I managed to avoid the townie chavs and settled down with a beer or two before the big day.
For the wedding, I’d been tasked with taking some photos of the bride and her entourage getting ready and getting to the venue, taking videos of the horse drawn carriage leaving and arriving and, rather crucially, attempting to look after Aimee whilst all the chaos went on around us. I attempted to do my best, whilst I had monoaural hearing and the dull pain of the eachache. Needless to say, I didn’t do as well as I could have, and for this I’m sorry.
There are photos on Facebook, which are ‘ok’, and the video seems to be fine. Aimee, for the most part, was very well behaved but as the day wore on, she became more and more difficult and less inclined to go to bed – which was a little traumatic for both myself and Emma. Parenting skills aside, the wedding was lovely, and Mark and Katy looked fantastic. I proceeded to get roaringly drunk at the evening do, and generally made a bit of a tit of myself, as seems to be the Sheridan-family way at weddings. Right, Marvin? 
The morning after, we woke early, and with wobbly heads, took advantage of the on-site swimming pool and took aimee for a dip and a splash. She loved it, and I have to say that 5 minutes in the steam room kick started the shedding of my hangover. Pity we don’t have one at home! 
On the Sunday evening, we drove back across the Pennines to home, ready for my birthday the next day! My 30th birthday, to be precise. Yeeech. 30. Three. Oh. The big 3-0. 30. Can’t believe it.
So, yes, the birthday came and went, and everyone bought me lovely presents and cards, but nothing really disguised the fact that my age now begins with a 3, and not a 2. On forms and surveys, I now get to tick the ’30-39′ demographic box, instead of the ’20-29′ one. I’m in my last year of Club 18-30 holiday entitlement! Actually, that’s probably a positive!
I think I’ll save the ‘Big 3-0′ post for another day, but, anyhow, yes, it was my birthday the other day, and I celebrated it at home, with Emma, Aimee and Fro. A lovely day. I managed too, to get to the GP, who ascertained that I had a middle-ear infection which had (somehow) perforated my eardrum. He prescribed me some Amoxicillin (antibiotics) for a week, with the instruction to drop back in if things didn’t clear up.
I’d also booked off the following Tuesday, knowing that Emma had the day off too, and that Aimee was booked into nursery – so we’d get the whole weekday, just the two of us – which is something that’s not really happened for a long time. So we went out for lunch and did some shopping and watched a film. It was really nice, just like the old days – pre mad ASBO-child.
The flick we watched was Hancock, Will Smith’s latest. It started off really well, but tailed off as it progressed into very familiar, well trodden movie cliche terroritory. Still, it wasn’t at all bad – plus, we chose some ‘premier’ (or somesuch) seats at the Vue at Meadowhall, so had really comfy reclining leather seats in the cinema – I’ve not been in this cinema since we visited Meadowhall back in student days on a day trip from Grimsby. It’s changed, just a smidge! Not sure if it’s better than the Cineworld at Centertainment, but one thing’s for sure – parking’s a whole lot easier at Meadowhall.
Last weekend, Emma arranged for some food and drinks with some friends to celebrate my birthday. We had envisaged trying out Platillos in Leopold Square, but when we came to book the table we decided otherwise – what kind of a ridiculous policy is it to levy a charge of £5 per head on a reservation, along with a 10% surcharge for parties 8 or more! There was no way we’d be handing over £60 just to make a fucking reservation, and they could stick their 10% up their arse. Won’t be going there again. So, we went with the fall-back plan of All Bar One, just over the road on Leopold Street – I didn’t really fancy going for ‘a curry’, or ‘a chinese’ or ‘a thai’, so the tapas-style approach of Platillos, and All Bar One, appealed.
We had everything on the tapas menu All Bar One could muster, and doubled (and tripled) up on a few of the more popular dishes. It was bloody gorgeous, and I’d definiately eat there again. I didn’t really pay much attention to what we’d ordered, but the duck in the toasted flatbread, and the chilli prawns stood out for me.
We had a few in there, then moved onto Bungalows and Bears (which was playing some exceptionally shit music for a Saturday night) and then to The Old House (which… wasn’t), where I had a few cheeky mojitos and bloody marys. There are photos on Emma’s Facebook profile – if seeing pictures of me drunk are your thang, anyhow.
The ear infection continued throughout this time – only less painful, but now coupled with a combination of thick pus-like deposits coming out of my ear, and a very thin watery liquid running (literally) out of my ear all day long. The pills did nothing.
So yesterday, I went back to the quack, who said that the infection had now spread to my outer ear, though the lesions in my drum appeared to have closed up, and gave me some more, more powerful antibiotics and some ‘Otomize’ ear spray, and another instruction to come back in a week if it’s not all sorted.
Last night, and this morning, I experienced excruciating pain in my ears – it feels like my ear is all swollen up and read to just _burst_ with pus and ming and bleeerrgh everywhere. My hearing is no better than it was 2 weeks ago – this concerns me greatly….
Well, that about brings us up to speed. I promise to write more often, again. Really, no, I will. Honestly!