I have a little pain. I think in part just because I’m moving my right arm around a lot more than I have been. I also may have just a little PTSD about the wire in my boob experience, because my co-worker asked me how it went and I just both couldn’t talk about that part and couldn’t think of anything else to talk about.
I feel overwhelmed by how behind I am.
But oh well. I guess. Something about the whole thing makes me feel like I could use a real vacation, one where I go someplace other than my house and do something other than nothing.
I watched the Ray Rice video, the inside the elevator footage. It’s pretty amazing. She gets in one side of the elevator. He gets in the other. She’s clearly standing away from him. He reaches over to touch her, hit her, though possibly in a playful way–I mean, if the video ended there, you’d think it was playful. She turns to confront him, approaches him, and he knocks her out. Thus recontextualizing his initial contact with her as setting up his second hit better.
That you could watch that and give him two games off is mind-boggling.
That you could watch that and then watch his girlfriend apologizing for “her role” in the incident, when her role appears to be being unfortunate enough to run into his fist and give him two games off is horrific.
I hope he doesn’t someday kill her.
But the other thing I can’t wrap my head around is how there seemed to be this assumption that the video would never get out, that they could spin what happened in the elevator however they wanted, because no one would see it. And I get how that kind of shit happened even twenty years ago, but in this day and age?
In this day and age, can you really count on your misdeeds staying buried?