In the thrilling world of my eyeballs and general mental stability, I have reached a conclusion. As the savvy reader may remember, in an effort to relieve some eye strain, I turned off text smoothing on my computer, thinking that the blurry-ness of smoothed text on the monitor was contributing to headaches and tired eyes. The resulting look was just terrible. So, furthering the experiement, I returned to the text smoothing and compared reading on a LCD screen versus an old-skool CRT monitor. Conveniently enough, both are connected to my laptop.
The result? LCD: crisp and easy on the eyes; CRT: blurry and headache inducing.
I usually walk up to the counter and pick one of these gift cards up then slip it into either my back pocket or jacket pocket. I haven't been arrested yet.
This is how I refer to the dark, narrow hallway that leads to the bedrooms in the house my parents are about to move out of.
Summer officially began on GUTSY and those lazy days are why we missed putting together last week's digest. So what frequently has become the norm with our recap, this edition is supersized to accomodate both weeks.
The first week got off to a painful start by Paul Pereira with the christening of his annual sunburn. Not to be outdone, Ann Whitehurst got summer rolling by making pesto. Guido Alvarez combined both activities into his own image. Sandie Maxa tried to cool off in a not-so non-skid tub. And Mark Sanders was concerned about people burying things in his backyard as well as getting caught with his fly down.
Last week, David Steadman was snubbed by an idol. Guido Alvarez wondered if advertising had limits while Mark Sanders wished one bride would get cold feet for the media. Paul Pereira's girlfriend followed him with a DustBuster and last but not least Sandie Maxa told the truth about snakes.
Have a great weekend and tell a friend about GUTSY.
You'll notice that there is not an image accompanying this article. Because my fear of snakes is so bad, I can't even look at a picture of a leg-less reptile without hyperventilating. A few years ago, I cavalierly opened The Big Pop-Up Book of Phobias at a bookstore and when the inevitable snake popped up (as promised in the title) I dropped the book and ran screaming for the door, much to the embarrassment of my companion.
The year of 1997 was a pivotal time for me. Fresh out of undergraduate school and wielding a ratty portfolio of personal design projects, I travelled to London with the hope of finding a job in a design studio. I wound up perfecting the art of bagel baking, working long hours in the basement of a café in Covent Garden. But during my six months abroad, something else happened that touched me far beyond the art of bagel-making. I met one of my heros.
I am no gossip columnist. In fact I don't have any of the required skills: I'm not really all that interested in searching deeper into a famous person's private life and I have no patience for famous fashion or relationships. That said, it really takes a coordinated and omnipresent media campaign for me to take any note.
Well, this past weekend and for the rest of the week I am peeling like there's no tomorrow (I have no idea what I mean by that statement it just seemed to make sense when I typed it).
Dearest readers of GUTSY,
I have a confession of sorts to make. A tremendous burden has been handed down to me from my father (and I am sure his father et cetera). Each and every day I am forced to confront potential public embarrassment because of this weight on my shoulders. You see, I have inherited the genetic condition knowns as Zippasdown. What are the symptoms? A chronic and persistent unzipped pants fly.
I would love to buy this bathmat by Dutch designer, Hella Jongerius. Browsing her site for textiles, I unexpectedly came across a photo of the Bathroommat and proclaimed it perfect. It is stylish, simple and appears to allow wet feet to grip the surface, although unfortunately it is no longer for sale. A disappointing Google search told me that it was designed in 1993 and now rests in the collection of the Centraal Museum in Utrecht, Netherlands.
For me, summer has not really begun until I've had my first batch of pesto made from basil grown in my garden. That's what we had for dinner tonight. I was also able to pick a couple of cucumbers to put on the salad.
You never forget the first time you see someone burying something in your backyard with a spoon. I don't care whether you live in a house, apartment, motel or whatever seeing someone digging behind your home feels a little awkward. Here is my first experience.
Every year I go to the beach and every year I get badly sunburned. This year is no different, picture taken 6/12/05.
GUTSY is almost ready for its big move to www.gutsymag.com. The site will be offline for two days to make this happen. We'll keep you posted when to expect the outage.
In the meantime, GUTSY contributors continued to cover a lot of diverse ground this week. We're glad to announce that Ann Whitehurst has located her keys. Meanwhile, Paul Pereira stereotyped New Yorkers while Sandie Maxa bid a fond farewell to the cassette tape. David Steadman found a link between cookie and card and Mark Sanders used the words "banana seat" and "kick brake." Not to be outdone, Bob Holling gave himself an eye exam. Finally, Alice Marie visited foreign lands via her neighbor.
Have a great weekend and tell a friend about GUTSY.
It's Friday and I just learned something new. With summer in the air and the weekend just teasing me from the horizon, this knowledge could prove useful or at very least recreational. You see, there is a type of bicycle out there that I never knew existed.
This is where we finally found my keys after spending all day looking for them and thinking about whether we should change out the locks on the house and wondering if our car was going to get stolen.
If it was still just my husband and I in the house, we would've found the keys fairly quickly. But since we have a 13-month-old who likes to play with our stuff and leave it in weird places, we had to search the entire house...the spice cabinet, behind the radiators, in the pantry, etc. I had given up hope... and my back and knees were sore from bending over to look into every crevice I could find. Then around 10:30 tonight, my husband walks downstairs holding the keys. My son had dropped them into the spine of one of the binders (that rarely gets used) in my husband's office.
My son is now asleep and I'm drinking a beer to celebrate.
My brother, an otherwise adventurous person, has not traveled beyond the Chicago city limits in over ten years. He chooses to stay at home because, as he says, everyone is an asshole, assholes are everywhere, and there is no point is making a special trip to visit them in their own environment. In 1995, after a weekend trip to Wisconsin, he decided that it would probably be best to remain indefinitely at home and deal only with known quantities of assholes.
Well, my computer interface now looks like butt, mostly, but I can report a decrease in eye fatigue. Have I just been reading less on the computer? Perhaps I'm reading things that are properly designed with enough white space. It's hard to tell after only one week.
However, my current level of general fatigue is up--too little sleep + too much drink. I'm getting too old for this.
Our studio is the proud owner of a brand new Altec Lansing MX-5021. This fascinating stereophonic device includes:
- 2 satellites
- subwoofer
- wired controller
- wireless remote
- 2 speaker wires
- 3.5 mm stereo audio cable
- console gaming y-adapter
But no receiver, no cd player and no tape player.
Last Saturday I spent most of the day in NYC just walking around. While I was walking around I started to notice people wearing similar clothing. At first I thought I was mistaken but as the day progressed I kept seeing people dressed in the same style. I quickly started to make mental notes and kicked myself for not bringing my camera. I'll try to break it down into categories.
After having read this article in the NY Times, I chuckled at the thought of someone devouring a Metrocard-styled cookie. Why make something so beautiful (a cookie) resemble something so terribly inferior (the Metrocard design)? I felt inclined to pull out some of my favorite Dutch PTT Telecom phone cards that would, in my opinion, inspire some delectable treats. Chow down.
We have no reasonable excuse for why there wasn't a digest last week so we aren't going to try to make one up. As done with the last weekly round-up, this edition will be supersized to accomodate all the highlights.
Bob Holling got the first week started by angering his cat. Mark Sanders was given the gift of underpants while Paul Pereira gave up television cold turkey. Ann Whitehurst not only saw a toddler resist sweets, she also successfully avoided another parent.
This past week we were told a story about death by Pete Hofmann while Evan Mann talked to kids. Guido Alvarez showed us a third world child seat and taught us how to make dog noises. Bob Holling found a rat even though he is losing his vision. Ann Whitehurst soiled her pants and then showed us recovery. Mark Sanders watched others shop and got another haircut. And last but not least, Sandie Maxa is worried about summer.
Tell a friend about GUTSY and have a great weekend.
Before today, I wasn't familiar with the sensation of pasta sauce soaking through my pants.
Last Haircut: 8 weeks ago
Day of Week: Tuesday
Time of Day: Supper
Salon Bustle: Very Low
Stylist Demeanor: Punchy
Physical Contact: Moderate (neck blowing)
Quotes from Stylist: "Would married man like the same?" "Do you think you look beautiful?"
Tip: $5.00