kate rothwell

The crap car, before and after. The cost of the repairs, even without any kind of paint job = ~5.2 times the blue book value of the vehicle. The repair $$ was graciously forked over by Marci, the lady with the mammoth SUV. (She didn't even notice the crap car as she backed out of the parking space. It's just that kind of car---or rather, they are just those kinds of cars.)

1. I just added this blog to my goodreads feed. I'm not sure how I managed to do that but woo, cool. 2. My dreams have been so vivid lately, I want to go to sleep to catch the latest. 3. 1 part cranberry juice, 1 part oj, 10 parts water--> I've been drinking that for years and the kids all laugh at me. And now it's apparently all the rage; I paid $3 for an 12 oz bottle of some healthy stuff at Whole Foods that tasted just like it. 4 . for anyone still interested in the crap car, the car I bought by accident , the car that Gene Weingarten loved and wrote about more than once , the car that made me famous, and then made every man who's ever read or written smut--and every woman who hates the term smut-- despise me . . . . . We got the title for that very car a couple of days ago, and in big letters across the bottom of the title are the words MILEAGE EXCEEDS MECHANICAL LIMITS. We can guess at that meaning. 5. My baby's voice is cracking. It's funny and we...

Tomorrow the guys go down to DC to get the car. ( Scroll down a bit to see it. ) It's an important enough occasion, Weingarten even mentions it in today's Washington Post (online. S croll down a bit to see it) The day after tomorrow,the fight for the santa poop begins. I want it. The car's new owner, boy1, also wants it. The boy is right, I had no idea about who or what Mr. Hanky Poo actually is, but now I do understand because unfortunately he's shown me the video. And even if I hadn't known, ignorance doesn't mean I should be deprived of something gorgeous. . . . Ergh. South Park, ugh that video. I'm rereading that short mention in the Post. See that bit about me as a saucy wench? I like that, a lot. Good thing I'm not going to DC. I'm currently going through 3/4 of a box a kleenex a day and I look like a rabbit--not a cute one you see scampering through the garden. I'm one of those laboratory rabbits, way pale except for the pink nose, ...

I have all sorts of small things I'm supposed to do....nibbled to death by ducks is this decade's overused phrase that I sometimes wish I'd invented. (Other such phrases show up regularly at sites like Smart Bitches and usually involve a lot of Zs) But having too much to do and avoiding it all is why I'm here. On the list is paying a bunch of bills, returning emails, thanking that fan who listed my mistakes in a book that's been OOP for 4 years. (hey, I'm keeping her list. who knows when someone might buy that book again?) Now that I'm getting to the bottom of the TTD list, I can see most of what's left pertains to promo and promo type things. Like the crappy car. Yes, we're getting the car. But the thing is, who is getting the car? That's what the people want to know. The car will eventually end up on the UConn campus. The oldest boy wants this crappy car, a lot, and will even pay for his own gas. Knowing the boy as I do, the inside of that ca...

1. omigod snow! end of civilization! Oh! Oh! No! Before the snow everyone has to go out and drive around slowly. You'd think this was DC from the way the stores jammed up and from all the excited chatter in the check out lines. Snow! OMIFUCKINGGOD! 2. Gene Weingarten is one of the nicest people on the planet. He's written a few columns all about what a curmudgeon he is but I'm no longer buying that act. 2a. What about the car, you ask? The pro and con lists are driving everyone in the house nuts. We're making the lists and checking them twice and then starting again. Luckily we're all doing it so the problem is not just me. 3. I dreamed I accidentally wrote something snide in a promo/press release and was suddenly reviled by everyone with access to a computer. I was getting more guff than Candace Sams. What a stupid, stupid dream. Online equivalent of being nekkid in public, I guess. And I'd provide a link as reference to the Candace Sams debacle, but I'...

The promo budget for 2010 is now the crappy car. I won't participate in any online ads or group Romantic Times and I'm no longer featured over at Noveltalk or Fresh Fiction. Hmm. That almost covers the car cost. Hey, if I was going for a single full-color ad in RT, I could have gotten TWO crappy cars. ** I wasn't planning to lay out the bucks for anything huge because so far I have three books scheduled for release in 2010 and two of them are m/m with Bonnie Dee. Nothing big, nothing NY so no advances. The $30 here and there for those online banners are out. I have to use this purchase as my promotion. How can I connect the historical romance or the hot sexxx with the 1991 mazda 323? I asked some writer pals for ideas. Here's what I got: 1. Paint your name and website url on the car. Looks like it needs a paint job anyway. (more than one person) 2. Sandy Blair's suggestion: “Win a fab car once owned by noted columnist Gene Weingarten and now by award-winning auth...

Oh. My. God. The car is ours. The good news the "revolver" listed is a bike rack and not an actual gun....for my husband's sake. He's looking up blue book value. $350 trade in. WOOT! But once the oldest son and his friends get finished painting it, this vehicle will be worth a great deal more. UPDATE: And the more I read about the Weeks family, their boys and the charity , the better I feel about this business. I was feeling slightly miffed at this whole thing--there are only so many times I can be called a doot brain*** before I start to sulk--when I read about the Weeks's loss. Whining seems beside the point. Especially with that that additional why-are-you-discontent----you-still-have-your-boys factor. (Linton and Jan Weeks strike me as too generous to want any other parent of boys to feel slightly guilty. That sort of response just comes along naturally). _______ *** I'd say the doot-brain name-calling is pretty evenly divided between Mike and me.

me: hey, mike, look at this listing. Gene Weingarten's selling a car for charity. mike: Pretty sweet wheels. We definitely should bid. me: ha! ha! ha! two hours later.... me: okay, I bid mike: wt? f? me: It's fine. I mean Gene Weingarten is famous! A famous funny guy!** Surely someone will outbid this paltry sum of mine. mike: How much did you bid on that piece of crap? Do you recall we have a kid in college? me: He's at a state school. It's fine! mike: Didn't you tell me that your writing income is going down rather than up? me: Oh, it's fine. It really is a good cause. And this conversation is moot because any second now someone else will outbid me. six days later .... Oh, shit. the auction's going to end in an hour and fifteen minutes. No one has outbid me and I'm freaking doomed. Here's what I tell myself: On the plus side, there's a clock and a cool teeshirt thrown in--a teeshirt I'd never get in the usual manner because I'...