Me, too, Deb. Nothing wrong with using the KISS principle on a website. If anything, it will bring me back more often.
Excellent essay, erika. Your food stamp lady reminded me of Doris Kroger there for a minute or two. Glad you got your two cents in with the glasses cleaning tip.
Accessible websites often don't have all those things...apparently it makes it harder for the programs that read text for blind users and, probably, disability nation's computers are a little behind the curve.
I hope Deb becomes rich like a rich thing! I want her to bathe in tasty champagne and have Evian and white truffle pedicures!
(But mostly I want her to become rich, cause we have the same shoe size, and she'll say "Dahhhlink, of course you can wear those cunning Jimmy Choo's! They're so old -- I've had them a month! Here, borrow these simple little 4 carat emerald earrings, I'm wearing the Kashmir sapphires tonight." She will say this as we fly on her dashing little jet to her villa for Tired, Porny Teachers in Tuscany. Where I will promptly seduce the handsome artist living in the cottage down the road, drink all her vintage Amarone, and squash the grape harvest using my La Perla clad breasts.)
::tags along on Erin's foamy, foamy coattails::
I figure I won't be an entirely unuseful golddigger. She can get me drunk, strip me naked, roll me in duck tape, and use me as a ginormous, giggly Swiffer for her legion of scrawny, street-smart Italian kitties.
deb, I just read that whole rollercoaster ride in one swoop and I'm exhausted! I'm glad everything is working out. Writing is scary!
erika, I enjoyed that essay. I always enjoy your work.
Oh good! One of us has to make Kate some money. I'm going to die of waiting for the editor to get back to me and tell me everything is all wrong.
One of us has to make Kate some money.
Here's looking at you, kid.
I'm going to die of waiting for the editor to get back to me and tell me everything is all wrong.
Not going to happen. Those last two essays were phenomenal - there's something about the mixture of rarified exhaustion and passion for the topic that sings. It happens occasionally for me, but not nearly enough. It did happen with "Truth, in the Middle", and manoman, am I pleased with that.