Crazycrone (crazycrone) wrote,

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Actually, there's still some slight swelling in the neck, but generally things look and feel a lot less scary, so I didn't go to the hospital. I worried a lot,of course, and felt profoundly sorry for myself. I was then shamed by the chirpy, optimistic attitude of this guy who got his leg blown off on July 7, and then had to bury his mother. I managed to hoover and get my sorry butt into the bath after like 2-3 days, I think! I felt really putrid. Wish I had a shower. I've tried those ones you screw onto the taps, but they're pretty useless on the 15th floor. I suppose we're lucky to have bathwater, up here.
That Scorsese Bob Dylan film really sent me into nostalgialand. So much brilliant footage of wonderful oldtimers like John Jacob Niles, a weird-looking little old man with a cavernous mouth and a househaunting falsetto, and the wonderful, magisterial Odetta, whose style I used to aspire to, in my deluded youth. and the Clancy Brothers!
Those were the days, all right, and Greenwich Village was so romantic and seductive. Now, I believe it's just another yuppie enclave. Moan...

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