LauraCatoe.com

I’ve mentioned that one of the reasons I love the internet is because now I have a way to answer “what was the name of the song in that [movie, commercial, TV promo, episode of anything on The WB]” - right?

I love Google because she rarely lets me down. (And when she did, Lori Todd was there.) Next time though, just to mix it up, I might look here.

iTunes and I are still building our relationship. I mean, the first and second dates were pretty fun. I felt a little awkward on the third date when he asked me to meet his family. And it’s like he totally doesn’t trust me. He never lets me listen to a song before I download it. Plus he, like, never answers his phone. So, y’know, we’re still in a casual phase.

We’re on a date right now, as I download a few Black Eyed Peas.

Y’know, being a nerd, and an artist, and being really tall and really pale and living in the Bible Belt but belonging to a denomination that everyone used to assume was a cult… I really have no history of not being able to belong because I was simply Too Cool.

I have been ostracized for my church affiliation, laughed at because I was bigger than other girls, sneered at for being a brunette and been the butt of jokes for not having a tan. But never have I been ignored, nay spurned for being obviously cooler than those nerdier than I.

But on Saturday, Kris and I visited the local comic book stores, and Howdy-doo, Stereotype! Not a friendly smile in sight, no “can I help you?” heard, nary an acknowledgement of our presence to be found.

As we left the second store with the same experience as the first, I said to Kris that it must somehow be obvious that we Did Not Belong. I wondered which comic book store Ashley and Mark (posterchildren of Cool) must shop at.

I mean, I know my comic book collection (Sandman, Fray, The Crow, the Books of Magic and a little Buffy and more Gaiman here and there) might be considered a bit pedestrian by real Collectors, but c’mon! I am not a total pariah.

So it must be the Cool. I can’t help it. I must, in the presence of young lads in black t-shirts afternoon shopping for some collector grail, exude so much coolness as to be ignored. Deemed unworthy of recognition.

Fine. Then I’ll just get my comics where I normally do… in the small section of Barnes & Noble devoted to them, alongside petite blondes eyeing me as the Nerd That I Am, and an aisle over from the gangly boys casting me as Poser.

The cost of cool, man.

Poor little JP. She’s in the hospital, having an impromptu gall bladder removal. I got the call right after reading her website. So now I hafta answer her questions. I mean, she’s invoked the hospital rule. Eh, I would have anyway.

Dear Jaimie,

I can’t answer about The Created. I support it in principle if not passion. And that has far less to do with the organization itself and more to do with me and what I have to give. I’d need passion to serve with The Created, and since I don’t have it to spare right now, it’d be like using it on credit. Then I’d be spending all this passion I didn’t really have, and Jaimie, you know how we both feel about buying with credit.

You ask me what is art. You say to be an artist is selfish because art is about self-expression. I thought “Dude! We talked about this years ago, like at Apt. 313.” It makes me sad to think this has been weighing you down for years. I can’t remember what I said then. Here’s what I say now.

All I can speak for is me, and I didn’t take philosophy. This is just my subjective opinion, formed by experience:

I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that art is a language of God. If you’re a Creationist, which I am (hey, if my friends get to be Wiccans and atheists, slashfic authors and boy band fans, golfers and Republicans, then I get to be a Creationist), you gotta realize God is big on creativity and diversity. I mean, have you seen those grasshoppers downtown? And baby skinks?

So the Creator creates and we are created in His image� aren’t we just shiny little apples in His eye when we set our hands and minds to molding beauty? Does He not smile at a clever twist of phrase or a cool technique with acrylics? I bet He even tears up when people dance.

C’mon, art has to be a language, right? Cause it says so much. And yes, language is used for expression. Sometimes that’s gonna be expression of the self. But sometimes it’s gonna be expressions of love, of hope, of ideals and a way to ease the pain. There is such power in it.

So yeah, the power is there to use art for many selfish reasons. And for bad purposes. For objectification. For cruelty. For twisting peoples’ minds and hardening their hearts. It’s all in how the power is used.

Now, if art is a language� to be an artist means you speak that language. The language itself is not selfish, so to be an artist does mean selfishness. Though sure, you can have a selfish artist.

I am a graphic artist by trade. I make little pieces of art all day. They are not expressions of me. They’re information, rendered in color and shape instead of just words.

But when I go home, when I turn off the computer, I’m still an artist. It’s there, in my thoughts. In my actions and my interests, I’m speaking the language of art.

And God knows. He made me this way. He loves me this way.

When Megs was here, she kept saying we have to get me to her locale (West Palm Beach) cause I could make a killing there. Alas, but I have strong ties to this area. So who we need to get down there is Les. Cause Les is awesome and the G-spot ain’t givin’ her her due. But I hear she’s having a show in a month or 2, so maybe a little due will get thrown her way.

So I made it to Premiere Week… tonight I get to see what will unfold with Lorelei and Luke and Rory and Dean… on tape because there’s an Argyle Circle homeowners meeting. It’s the first one we’ve been invited to and it doesn’t seem very homeowner-like to blow it off cause there’s a new episode of the Gilmore Girls. And Kris has work. Pooh.

Maybe I’ll make it home in time to see Nathan’s mom yell at Hayley on One Tree Hill and wince at Lucas’ new hair. Yeah, yeah, I watch OTH. I’m not proud of it.

Rowan e-mailed to ask if The Mountain is really as big a rip-off of Six Feet Under as I made it sound. I don’t know since it hasn’t premiered yet, but I told her I plan to avoid it like the plague. It’s bad enough that OTH got me.

The Apprentice sort of got me, too. I saw the 2 hour premiere and then read the recap of the one I missed. Grr! The addictive qualities of reality TV and “dramas” on The WB!

I’ve seen 1 and a half eps of Jack & Bobby. It’s not addictive, but it is sweet. And Jack is a total McHottie. I like the Courtney character, but I think it’s because she reminds me of Lori Chaffer.

Despite the flash floods, the rehearsal site was on high ground, so we were okay. The peanut butter balls that Chris’ mom made were so good, another foot or so of water would have still made the effort worth it.

Megs’ flight was delayed 3 and a half hours, but there will still be plenty of time for pictures. And once Ivan blew on through, the skies are clear, so those crazy kids can have their outdoor wedding after all. Might be a little breezy. “Places everyone! Cue the wind! Aaaannd ACTION!”

Since I didn’t have to be in Bham at 10am to pick up Megs, I was sort of at a loss as to what to do with my morning. Jaimie came over and we ironed our dresses. Then we picked out some makeup for her. Had some coffee. Made a zillion calls to address the Megs situation. And then it was like “now what?”

So I tagged along with her to Kmart. (Sometimes bridesmaids need last minute girly items like lipstick and fake teeth.) We were in the cosmetics section, crouched down near the floor, comparing shades, when Jaimie asked “is that Danny’s laugh?” Pause. Why, yes, I would know that masculine boom anywhere. We surprised him at the checkout counter. He surprised us by pointing out Charlotte, the wedding coordinator, was standing behind us.

{Kris just called to say that Operation Condor has been delayed another half hour. Megs’ flight now arrives at 2pm, which is exactly when Liz wanted to start pictorials. Remember what they say, Liz. You can’t always get what you want. But if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need. Ooo, yeah.}

We watched a lot of hurricane coverage yesterday. It was surreal when the video footage of Gulf Shores and Orange Beach came in. Bridges, roads, restaurants that we visited over the weekend… no longer there. God bless everyone on the coast.