Shiny!

Not much to say, 'cept I'm sitting here writing this in my brand spanking new office, and I'm feeling all shiny. But that may have something more to do with the fact that I ravaged my mom's costume jewelry box last night, and walked out with all sorts of rhinestones.

All told, a very good day at work.

Numfar, do the dance of joy!

This is how I feel right now.

Why's that, you ask?

I'M GETTING AN OFFICE!!!!!

Finally. Huzzah! I've been doing the dance of joy since I found out. Next week we'll suss out exactly which one, but I think there's really only one good possibility, and yes -- it's that one only 12 steps from where I'm sitting.

Oh, my little heart's going patter, patter, patter!

Mother Issues

Didn't happen.

That's the long and the short of it. After double-checking the website for the ITC Triathlon I was supposed to do on Saturday and confirming that it was indeed a rain or shine event, and in the face of certain fallout from Hurrican Ivan, I got myself up to Westchester, woke up at the ungodly hour of 6:30 in the morning ON A SATURDAY! and drove down to Mount Olive, New Jersey with my brother, only to discover that... yup... it was cancelled.

See, rain or shine only refers to a certain amount of rain, beyond which, they will call the event on account of weather. Would have been nice to know before we made the hour and a half trip down there, and more than two hours trip back (lots of flooding, and many detours...).

Grrr.

So I went back to my mom's, worked on my latest quilt, and enjoyed an always lovely conversation with the aforementioned parental unit on my weight. Delicious. Brought up, I should mention, while we were eating lunch.

Wherein, just in case you were curious, my abilty to complete a triathlon in no way assuages her fears that I will keel over and die from a heart attack or diabetes because I'm fat. Forget healthy. Apparently, that doesn't matter. Nope -- it's all about appearances.

Her: "I was looking at pictures of you from Patty's wedding. You looked so pretty. You went on a diet for that, didn't you?"

Me: "mwamhufm" (eating sandwich)

Her: "Is there any way I can bribe you to go on a diet?"

Me: staring out the window at a squirrel, who doesn't have to worry about his mother telling him he's too fat. No, little squirrel mom encourages him to eat!

Her: "You know you're the prettiest of my daughters. You have the prettiest face."

Compliments aside, what a giant pain. And I can't now go on a diet, like I was considering, because she'll just take it as a victory, and god knows I can't have that.

Plus, and this is just too good not to mention, when I casually mentioned Wicca in a conversation (looking at my calendar, trying to figure out when one of their holidays is), she wondered aloud, "What's going on with you?" (In the same tone in which mothers of Death Row inmates are prone to wonder, "Where did I go wrong?")

Like I'm some fat Satan-worshipping giant disappointment to her. Super.

My Office Quest Continues...

It's been a super busy week here in Kate-land, but in a good way. Not in the realm of Jennifer Weiner's week, but busy.

Big news today! I closed the big British deal I was working on for a super-wonderful middle grade book, and it went to a really great publisher, Chicken House. First, can we talk about the great name? Chicken House. I love it! Now, I just hope that beyond the written "good work!" recognition, I get something a little more substantial. Say, an office. With a door. And -- dare I hope to dream? -- a window.

It's not too much to ask, is it? I mean, really. We just hired a new agent, who's never done any agenting before, and she gets to waltz right into the office recently vacated by Amy (in a supremely unjust ousting, but I digress). I've been here six and a half years, and selling books for the past 4, easily, and I'm still stuck back here in the cave. It's not like there's no room. There's an empty office not -- hold on, I will mark it out -- not twelve steps from where I'm sitting. Empty! Because Park Avenue real estate isn't valuable or anything.

I'm not asking for a raise, even, though that would be nice. Just the recognition that I am doing the exact same job as the two other agents in my department, excluding my boss, who's the head of the rights team. And I'm doing it without an assistant, not that I'm asking for one of those either. Or a company credit card -- ok, that I want! A corporate card and an office. And the goddamned "agent" Christmas gift this year (as opposed to last).

Ergh. I need to calm down. I'm getting myself all annoyed, when I want to be calm, cool, and collected. I just feel that this has gone on long enough, and either they need to step up and acknowledge me, or I need to make that hard decision and step away. This is ridiculous. I need them to see me.

Wooosh. Deep breath. Time to relax. Tonight is The Procrastination Queen's birthday celebration, so I'm heading downtown for the festivities. Wahhhooo!

Ask your doctor about Stuffacil!

This made me laugh, and it's by a great friend, so I'm sharing it here for the benefit of all. If you enjoy it, you may want to take a gander at some of Tim's other stuff here.

Ask your doctor about Stuffacil!

Today's columnist has leased this space to the makers of a revolutionary new prescription drug, so they can tell you why you should take a lot of it.

Stuffacil. It's TODAY'S medium-sized purple pill. Ask your doctor if Stuffacil is right for you!

Consult your doctor before illegally obtaining Stuffacil and selling it to your friends. Stuffacil is bad for the arms. Do not take Stuffacil if you are pregnant, likely to become pregnant, afraid of pregnant people, or chubby.

Do not take Stuffacil before or after meals, as it may make you permanently allergic to most food products, especially those with the word "gummi" in them.

Stuffacil is not recommended for persons who have a history of being a child. This product may cause your torso to temporarily expand to eight times its normal size. You may find that visual art such as sculpture or macrame is frighteningly intense while taking this medication.

Stuffacil will make you much more able to operate heavy machinery, but don't. Wash Stuffacil down with a refreshing Stuffle fruit drink. Water will make Stuffacil angry. You wouldn't like Stuffacil when it's angry.

Stuffacil is prohibited for children under the age of 18, for the purpose of expanding our market share among children under the age of 18.

The new Medicare discount card will make Stuffacil more expensive. Evil Canadians should not be expected to manufacture anything nearly as cool as Stuffacil. Don't be afraid to ask your doctor about our product. Last week, we expensed five nights of heavy drinking for your doctor at Hooters, and he/she seemed to be eager to write a bunch of prescriptions as soon as possible.

Stuffacil is not a suppository, but what the heck. We sent free samples of Stuffacil to Hillary Duff and football legend Ed "Too Tall" Jones, and although they have not endorsed Stuffacil, we'll bet you anything they liked it a lot.

Paranoia is not a common side effect, but you may notice an increase in the number of people who look at you as though your fly is open. A small group of sample subjects found that Stuffacil caused excessive sweating, trenchmouth, the gout, spontaneous combustion, fear of board games, numbness of the face and body, foot cramps and gravy cravings. Results were completely different and more damaging than placebo, although one guy's tummy didn't feel too good after placebo.

Don't look at Stuffacil like that. Stuffacil likes your brother/sister better than you. If you feel better after taking Stuffacil, it is only so that you may live to serve Stuffacil's Dark Master. Stuffacil will try again and again to kill you. The people in our commercials who are shown taking Stuffacil and then frolicking with puppy dogs in fragrant meadows are all dead now.

Consult your doctor if you do not want to be dead.

The genXchange column appears every other Wednesday. Today's writer is Tim Mollen, a free-lance writer, actor and comedian in Binghamton.

Is it too early to start my Xmas list?

First off, yes, I read ALL of the books I wrote about on Thursday. No, I did not take Evelyn Wood. I do not speedread, at least to my knowledge. Two of the books were YA titles, so that explains some of it, plus I spent three of the past few days sitting on the beach for long, lovely stretches of time, with nothing to do but tan and read. Delicious!

With that out of the way, it's back to school, as it were. Time to stock up on supplies, and start thinking of more serious outfits for a more serious me. Fall's a bit of a downer if you don't think positive. But I got loads to look forward to -- not the least of which is cleaning out my closet, and thinking about a few new threads. I'm not going to buy anything, mind you. Just think about them. Maybe drop a hint or two. Christmas isn't that far away, after all.

Top of the list is a fall blazer in a light brown color. Something that will finish off some of my outfits without being something entirely new. Something like this, if it came in light brown, to match my suede shoes. Or like this, maybe. Or maybe this one.

Eh, who knows. None of those are perfect. But perhaps I'll find something. Until then, I have a few other options for instant updates of my ole wardrobe. Scarves, scarves, scarves, baby!

I got a bucket!

I am now the proud possessor of a "Kate's Incredibly Useful Bucket," a big red cardboard cutout which now hangs in prominent display in my little cave, part of an amazing marketing plan for a book from an interested publisher. This is why I love, love, love children's books!!! Where else would I get a bucket?

Just too cool.

Anyway, I'm heading down to the Jersey Shore this evening for the long weekend. Actually, I'm heading UP to Westchester to meet my sister and get a ride with her DOWN to the shore, since Penn Station is still unaccessible due to the RNC.

But I'm looking forward to what promises to be a nice weekend, weather-wise, and I've got a number of books I'm looking forward to reading:

BRIMSTONE by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child

GIRLS IN PANTS by Ann Brashares

THE TRUE PRINCE by J.B. Cheney

WHAT WOULD BUFFY DO? by Jana Riess

And my sister has a copy of IT'S NOT ABOUT THE BIKE by Lance Armstrong for me.

That should keep me busy for a couple of days...