So, I had a cortisone shot today. In my elbow.
Let me tell you, the phrase "a shot in the arm" does not mean, in this case, that I felt rarin' to go. It actually means my elbow area now hurts more than it did before I had the shot, an after-effect that will apparently last for a day or so.
Fortunately, the small motor controls of my hands and fingers are unaffected, and I can type with abandon. But the elbow — right side, natch — feels like someone inserted a shotput.
Unrelated: At this evening's screening for "Elizabeth: The Golden Age"* I was able to cast longing looks in Rufus Sewell's direction, and was amused to watch Martha Stewart introduce herself to Salman Rushdie.
But even better was Betty yelling for popcorn. I arrived just behind a small clump of folks — a guy with long greasy hair and a ponytail accompanying an older woman whose blonde hair was held back in a black clip with faux-diamonds that read "Paris." They took the elevator, the rest of us checked in and walked downstairs. Once I arrived, I realized who black clip lady was … because Lauren Bacall was quite insistent on having her popcorn. No Mojitos or sodas or candy bars for her. Popcorn.
She does pop up here and there; like Rushdie she's an almost regular on the scene at these sort of small-scale events. But having her in the room is one step closer to Hollywood's Really Great Golden Era and it almost makes you wonder if Cary Grant or even Bogie is going to pop out and say it was all a mistake, they are immortal and here for the film, mind if they smoke?
Naturally, everyone paid homage by visiting her at her seat.
* As to the movie? I love the Elizabeth story, and Cate Blanchett is almost as good as Helen Mirren, and Clive Owen as Sir Walter "Sexy Pirate" Raleigh is a lovely cherry on top, but this was soapy as hell. More like "Elizabeth: The Menopause Hits."