A lot of men consider rape merely assault with a friendly weapon.
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Two years ago I wrote a blog entry titled "Why Blogs Die". I reread it yesterday. It was pretty good. Check it out.
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Monday the 14th, when Suzie got her paws realigned in New Jersey, the guys in the shop there told me that her brakes had not been something-or-othered properly. They said something about something needing grinding or something. Yeah, I wondered, because they'd been squealing badly for about two weeks. They said if I didn't get it fixed, it would wear something down quickly.
I'd gotten new pads and rotors in July at a Monroe up here, so yesterday I took Suzie back there and asked them to take a look. They insist everything is fine. The squealing is just dirt or dust in there and it'll go away. (Of course, if it wasn't fine, they'd have to fix it.)
They're still squealing. Maybe I should take her another place and get another independent checkup? I'd hate to have her paw pads suddenly go slick just as she's about to pounce on a Spyder.
(The Man drives a black Mitsubishi Eclipse Spyder convertible, named Widow. Suzie loves to chase her. If Suzie ever accidentally caught the beloved spit-shined black Widow, well, I don't want to think about it.)
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I spent much of yesterday and today playing with the video clips from the Sunday afternoon at the rehearsal studio. I discovered I have Windows Movie Maker on my laptop (who knew!), and that YouTube has a "private" designation, where nobody can see the clips unless I send them the secret URL in an email. They can't be embedded, and they can't go viral because they are limited to 25 unique viewers. Cool.
So I sent them (all 10) to The Man, and a smaller sample to Sister and Daughter.
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You know, sometimes I think I have angered The Man. I said something to him during my explosion the last time I saw him, about making him angry when I ask certain questions, and he didn't understand what I meant, swore he didn't get angry. Looking at the videos, I think I see the problem. When his face is relaxed, or when he's thoughtful, his natural expression looks angry.
I think I sensed that long ago. He'd said something about strangers in casual contacts tensing around him, and I told him it was because he looks powerful and dangerous.
It's not just his face, it's the way he moves - like a coiled spring.
I know my relaxed expression looks angry, too. Something about the eyebrows and eyelids, and the corners of my mouth. So I make a conscious effort to keep my eyebrows and cheeks lifted and crinkle the corners of my eyes when talking with people - ever since Daughter was small and cried because she thought I was always angry, when I was really just relaxed.
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Tonight I saw the movie "Love Happens" in Albany. I thought it was pretty good, but others didn't like it. I guess they were expecting more of a comedic cat and mouse love story, but it was really about a man dealing with unresolved feelings about the death of his wife. My comment was that I guess how you'd react to it has to do with what's going on in your own life.
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I got the call today from the doctor's office about last Friday's thyroid check. It's ok, so I'll be staying on the minimal supplement.
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2 comments:
I knew a girl in college with a naturally tragic expression. She's be sitting, waiting for pizza, and strangers would stop dead and ask her if she'd like to talk. She really did looked devastated when relaxed.
Yeah, I used to get the "why are you angry?" thing because I didn't go around grinning like an idiot. Now I do and people have stopped bugging me. Gah.
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