LauraCatoe.com

When I was in college, there was a girl in my dorm who owned a silver Isuzu Rodeo. I remember looking down on it in the parking lot and thinking I’d be willing to drive one of those. It looked fun to have an SUV. I could have used the space for transporting art projects, as they are sometimes huge and/or unwieldy.

And since I hated riding around in my mom’s van, I decided back then that if I had kids, I’d get an SUV instead of a van, because van=mom and SUV=cool.

But the thing is, most SUVs will not do van duty. They are really just passenger cars that sit higher up and have an open trunk space, aren’t they? (Dear bestest buds of mine, who both happen to drive an SUV: I’m not knocking your wheels, nor do I think “gah, how can they drive that?”)

Somewhere between the ’90s and now, I went from idle thoughts of maybe becoming an SUV owner someday to maybe being a hybrid owner someday. Along the way, I read some stuff about how the burning of fossil fuels emits greenhouse gases that lead to global warming. I thought about how much gas SUVs guzzle. And I started to get impatient with the sheer number of SUVs on the road, because when I looked in the driver’s seat, I realized that a lot of women must think it’s cool to drive an SUV. “I’ve been had,” I thought. “I bought the same marketing tactic.”

Am I going liberal as I age? Cause I no longer sit in traffic and try to decide whether I’d prefer an Explorer or a Pathfinder. No, instead, I shout at the ladies in their land tanks that cost as much (sometimes more) than a small house, which they are tooling about town in, by themselves, burning up the atmosphere because they must have the biggest, most expensive toy they can find. Suddenly it screams to me of excess and entitlement, and I get angry.

What am I really mad at? I don’t know. I know I’m mad at politicians who act like the science isn’t there to show that we humans really are making the earth warmer and that bad things could happen. I’m mad at them for not telling car companies that they have to make vehicles more fuel efficient and sooner rather than later.

But maybe I’m most mad at me, for letting commercials or somesuch tell me that I needed to be cool and told me what stuff was cool to own or whatever. And that I believed it, took candy from strangers and let it rot my teeth.

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Can you spare a square?,
originally uploaded by DameCatoe.

I thought I would give Illustration Friday a shot. This is a little Seinfeld joke.

I took my chica posse to Fronterra last night, cause I told them they had good margaritas and nachos. Liz said the nachos were good, but it was an off-night for the margaritas. For shame, Fronterra! (But not too much shame, for we still had 3 pitchers.)

I will be heading to Trussville again today, for I asked Kris to make my hair red for the upcoming 4th of July. I am so patriotic!

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The view is great up here,
originally uploaded by DameCatoe.

It was two years ago today that my mom passed away. I wasn’���t sure how I wanted to commemorate it. Last year, I wrote a letter. That didn’���t seem right for this year, but I did like the notion of posting another picture of her.

I had lunch with Dad and he said that instead of being sad today, he looks back on the day she died and is thankful for how it went. We both got to be there, she wasn���’t suffering anymore and we felt her slip away. Not a sad sliding, but a whoosh, there went her spirit, just like in ���Pamie’���s book or in the Little Women movie.

Dad says he still talks to her, and every once in awhile I do, too. Usually something simple like “���I miss you,”��� ���”I���’m sorry I did that���” or ���”Thank you.”��� I thank her for her kindness, her thoughtfulness, her patience and her capacity to love me.

If you’re like me and you only go to CityStages like once every three to five years, you forget about how close you’re going to be packed with everybody and that you have no chance of actually seeing the people performing on the stage. Unless:
(a) it has rained so hard that everybody has left for cover but your posse has stayed and you end up seeing Fleming & John for the first time
(b) you let Jimmy do the leading, as he will maneuver you through the crowd until at last you are right in front of the speakers where you can see Loretta Lynn even when she’s sitting down because of her recent back surgeries

She really is the cutest thing, and maybe I’m a poser because I only have her most recent album and that one only because Jaimie burned a copy of it for me, but I knew she would have an awesome stage presence. A city block packed with people and she acted like we were gathered in her living room.

Leg muscles strained from standing on my tiptoes to see Ms. Lynn and ears blasted from being in front of the speakers and yes, being oldsters now, we didn’t stay for The Killers. Did hear some Ludacris, though. I asked Jaimie why do I find it inoffensive when Ani drops f-bombs into her songs, but not so with Ludacris? “Maybe because she doesn’t actually mean it as sticking her penis into something,” she answered. Hmm. Could be.

Though it’s the kind of thing I am disappointed to realize about myself, I am not going to grow old gracefully. An example of this was my supremely foul mood over not being able to find a pair of sandals that have backs to them that don’t look orthopedic. My flip-flop wearing days are numbered as my tendons begin to protest more and more, and you cannot find anything but cutesy flops or clogs or whatever you call sandals that do not have any means of holding themselves on your feet.

There are other things that make me feel old and like my body is betraying me, but I think listing them on the internet would be the nail in the “now you’re really old” coffin. Besides, is it anything but youthful complaining when I’m not even 30 yet?

I gave my dad season one of Joan of Arcadia for Father’s Day. I think he and Patsy will enjoy it. I gave my grandad a cigarette lighter that looks like a little Nascar driver. I don’t think he’s a race fan, but he is a fan of nifty gadgetry, so I thought he might get a kick out of it. Plus, they were out of pig lighters.

The Heat and the Boredom are killing my brain cells.

There’s not enough money in my checking account to pay the phone bill, but I might get some money tomorrow for some art I sold.

Just as season three of Six Feet Under started to hit its stride, we ran out of discs.

Did the owners of Mango’s consider just buying a franchise from Bahama Breeze? I mean, really now.

A girl said she could get us discount passes for CityStages, but they fell through.

Whenever I pick out songs to lead worship, there is always a song from one of the Enter the Worship Circle albums.

Is it time to go swimming yet?