Of equal creepiness is ice falling from trees when one goes innocently outside to get into the car. There are piles of ice here, people. And like, sliding off of cars as they zoom zoom zoom down the interstate, or the neighborhood, whatever
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If there's still ice when you get home, it would probably be a good idea to take a broom and knock the ice off any place people walk underneath, like the roof or tree branches. Also, if there's any sludge on the underside of your car, you might also want to kick it off and get your car washed in the next couple of days, because the salt they put on the roads can cause your car to rust. (I had to get the coils replaced on my car this year, because I wasn't very good about this, and they rusted through completely).
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God, rust.
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It's seriously still freaking us out to see ice falling everywhere.
That would be strange to see, if you're not used to it. But then for me, not having any snow in January just feels wrong, like my world is out of balance. Oh, and I forgot to mention, that when you're knocking the ice down, make sure to be very careful and stand back, since this can also be very dangerous, too.
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But yeah, don't forget to check your headlights for crusted over stuff, it can seriously deaden the light and the bumpers for snow.
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Also, I think it's funny that people from Dallas - like me - are all "man, I've never seen ice like this, and I'm from Dallas," like we're the ice experts or something. I thought it was just me, but apparently we all think we're ice experts.
I've never seen ice like this (and I'm from Dallas!). I concur - freaky as shit.
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I was raised in a "Yep, we'll get fifty inches of snow this winter, all told" part of the country, and all I can think is, "Ooh, if you have icicles hanging off your roof, that means that the house is leaking heat." ::facepalm:: Thanks, New England, for killing my sense of wonder. I'm enjoying seeing other people's senses of winter wonder, though.
Also, more advice: When you're clearing off your car, make sure you do the license plate, too. You can get pulled over for that. The cops will think your Doing Crimes with your cleverly obscured plates! *g*
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Jesus effing wept. YOU'RE. YOU'RE.
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Listen to this line:
It takes her a moment, but it’s nothing like painful, nothing like intrusive, and she begins to rock.
Or this one:
His mouth feels like a hot chestnut in gloved palms, like central heat in the downtown library, like midnight mass at St. Anthony’s. He feels like time out from ice and scrounging her next meal. She wants this, but she doesn’t trust it.
Okay, so it's het, but it's pure you. Where did my voice go, Jenn? *scratches head and looks under couch* This is what I get for not writing prose since, like, last year or something. *boggles*
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On another note:
I insisted to a gay rl friend yesterday that he HAD to read "Three Impossible Things." I will stay after him because I think he'd benefit from reading it at this point in his life. He keeps letting the good ones get away.
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