The look of LauraCatoe.com from the start of January 2005 to the end of May 2005. I called this version “ChickLit.”
See a reconstructed version here.
Monthly Archive for May, 2005
.flickr-photo { border: solid 1px #000000; }.flickr-frame { float: left; text-align: center; margin-right: 15px; margin-bottom: 15px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }
This weekly graphic is an inside joke. Sorry ’bout that, but it couldn’t be helped since Jaimie started off the weekly talking about those things that we have to say, even if we can’t remember why.
Gah… still another week before it’s time to unveil the brand new LauraCatoe.com and start posting on here full time? In the interim, I continue to play with the settings on here – figured out how to share my profile but not have it show up in the template… I think. Watch it republish and wham! Profile at right.
I keep tweaking the new site version, too. Learned how to make hyperlinks without underlines. What will the next version be named? Oopsadaisies, maybe?
It’s like I have a birthday present already bought. I hate waiting to give someone their present just because it’s not their birthday yet.
The new design of LauraCatoe.com is ready. The June Illustration of the Month is ready, as is the June Desktop of the Month.
So now all I’m waiting on is June.
I was waiting until the first season of Veronica Mars was over so that I could revamp my soundtrack. I booted off the three songs that weren’t specifically featured on the show and added nine more. (Details here, if you want them.)
Being as I am, I wanted a new album cover design, not just an amended song list on the old one. So I made a new one.
And then I printed it out and it looked like shit. I tried a different printer and it still looked like shit.
So I changed all the colors.
I printed it out again, and wondered “why do I even bother?” (Not that it would be worth the effort anyway, but I can’t even take it to Kinko’s, since it’s obviously copyrighted material.)
* * * * * * *
I got an e-mail from Rowan in which I learned that Australians do not have access to iTunes. Blasphemy! Apple, get on this. Australians need iTunes, like, yesterday. It simply will not do that when I mention a free song on iTunes that Rowan cannot go check it out. You hear me, Apple? I mean it.
Okay, Zach, I waited a day. Surely by now the fam knows you have a tatt and they aren’t finding out via my blog, right?
That’s why the Abs needed to kill time in Gadsdonia on Monday. Zach and Kris had tattoo appointments at 5pm in Boaz at Old School Ink. Kris was having Chris Horton add some color to the cross on his back; Zach was having Jeremy Crawford ink a Celtic-tribal cross on his shoulder/arm.
This was Zach’s first tattoo. He knew he wanted a Celtic cross, but he didn’t have one picked out. So Kris drew him one while we were camping. Kristie did not want to be nearby as the needles jabbed her husband, so she and I went shopping. I heart the Fossil outlet.
But as we left them at ye olde tattoo parlor, I noticed they have a framed copy of the article, “Inked,” that I wrote as part of my X-treme Expression series in September 2003. That is so cool! Of course, a picture must be taken.
With Zach’s tattoo, keep in mind that it was just finished, hence all the red. And that his arm is sort of at an angle, making the tattoo not look straight, which it is in real life.
The same goes for the pic of Kris’ tattoo sans color. That was taken a day or so after he got the tattoo in July 2003, so it was all red and raised. (The original tattoo wasn’t done at Old School Ink.)
Brad was pleased to hear that Zach’s Celtic cross had a tribal flair. He also said it seemed like I would have one. And indeed have I thought about it. But as I explained to my camping peeps, I am continually changing my mind about what of and where I would want a tattoo. I don’t want something permanent that I may regret. (I’m turning into such a grown-up. Used to be that the only thing keeping me from getting inked was my fear of needles.)
Happy first tattoo, Zach Attack.
Congratulations to my friend who closes on her house purchase today. She refuses to talk about it on her website for fear it may “jinx it.” Welcome to homeownerdom, compadre.
I expect the next time we go camping with the Abercrombies, it will be sweltering hot. Cause now that we’ve done the freezing cold and the pouring rain, we need to cover heat, hail and what else? Locusts?
We went through a shameful amount of saddle-shaped potato chips and silver cans of beverage that cannot be purchased on Sunday. (Oops, I seem to still be in not-so-veiled-reference mode.) We also discovered if we were being chased by bears, who would survive (Kristie, Kris) and who would get eaten (me, Zach).
I like the way time seems to suspend when you’re camping. I don’t like the imposed proximity to bugs. At one point, I reached down to thump a spider off my leg and paused. “Kristie, is this a tick?” She assured me it was, and then made Zach assure her that the bump she felt on her head was not. (Just a normal head bump.)
Kris and I came home Sunday night. Thankfully, not because of gastro-intestinal distress, but because we had plans to paint our bedroom Monday. (Pix later.) Zach and Kristie left camp the next morning, but they needed to kill some time in Gadsden and did so in our backyard. That’s how it came to be that they were sitting in camping chairs when Chris and Liz drove up. And later when Jaimie and Jimmy drove up. I tell you this so I can keep track for when we all work this into a sitcom screenplay.
There was Zach, in his camping fold-out chair, studying for a CPA exam. There was Kristie, napping on an inflatable mattress in the bed of their truck. There was Jaimie, spray painting a microwave. There was me, just having finished painting the bedroom with Kris and now chatting with Paint Monkey. I tucked my hair behind my ear and… felt something.
“Kristie?” I walked over to the truck. “Please tell me this is just a pimple.”
She peered at my scalp. “Nope. Yours is a tick.”
“#@$%.”
Kris got it for me with the tweezers and proceeded to burn it with a match. I made him check the rest of my head. Kristie had me check hers when I went back outside. Her hair being blonde, it was easy to make sure there were none there.
My hair being brunette (and its darkest at the nape of my neck) is no doubt how Kris missed THE SECOND TICK that I found while blow-drying my hair this morning. Some things just jack the freakout meter straight to eleven, and finding a tick in your hair is one of them. I set the hair dryer down and ran for the phone.
“Are you on your way to Trussville yet? Oh, thank goodness. Can you please come by home first? I found another… bump on the back of my head.”
I pause to feel my scalp even now.
Everything else I want to talk about involves pictures, some of which haven’t been taken yet, so it all has to wait.
Ticks in my hair. Plural. Nnnaghhh.
I’d have to ask Sharon, but I think one of us once had a slumber party on a Friday the 13th and ended up telling ghost stories. Maybe I’m making up the Friday the 13th part, but we for sure ended up telling ghost stories. The thing is, I didn’t really have any ghost stories. No personal accounts, none that I read in a book that stayed with me.
The closest I could probably get is what mom and GJ used to tell me about their house on Herring Street. They said several times you could hear someone walking down the hall, only nobody was there. I’m sure it was pretty freaky if you were there, but it lacks any punch as an oral tale, y’know?
This ain’t me complaining, though. I got plenty enough crazy tales, without adding ghosties to the mix.
Cheers to a ghost-free weekend.
The web-safe color palette has its purposes; I’ll give you that. What it doesn’t have is the color you want. You want a funky lime green. Does the WSCP comply? No it does not. It has a bright sea foam green.
You can concoct a green you like in HTML, but it’s going to have an erratic character set like C8E45A. Nothing prim and proper like CCFF66. And while your custom green may look fine in one web browser, it’s gonna look like bile in another. With your oh-so-nothing-like-it WSCP option, your computer screen to computer screen variance is gonna have more to do with brightness and other monitor settings. You really have no control over things like that.
And that pretty poppy shade that looks so nice in Photoshop? Is gonna be completely washed out when you maximize it for the web.
You might as well just work in grayscale.
Apparently the theme this week is Television. In keeping with that, let me address the Elvis movie that came on CBS this week. Some pals and I thought it would be a funny movie to watch “under the influence.” We were unaware it was a 2-parter. And that it didn’t cover his whole life. At times, I felt sorry for the cad. At times, I think he was a total douche. Saying he couldn’t sleep with Priscilla after she bore him a child? Da hell?
At 1am this morning, we had another Thank Goodness it was Just a Scare & Thank Goodness She No Longer Lives in Southside happenings. Mama Juanita woke us up with a phone call to say that Lifeline had called her and could we go over and check on GJ and report back?
The Fire Dept. was there. Nice fellas. I was a little sleep-disoriented, and I think GJ was, too. But I gathered that the phone rang after midnight (a wrong number, I guess) and as she doesn’t have a phone next to her bed (yes, yes, I know this is insane), she got out of bed to get it and fell. I don’t know if she pushed the Lifeline button on accident in the fall or afterward because she thought she couldn’t get up. All I know is she says she was back in bed by the time the fire dept. arrived. They checked her vitals. She was fine. We went back home. All over in the same amount of time it would have taken us to drive to her old house.
