02.16.01 - 12:01am!

O yes. Check out my latest assignment...

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Many thanks for your patience as we sorted out the contents of our June issue. The theme is entertainment, and we're delighted that you'll be contributing to it. But be warned--we're saddling you with the Celebrity Story.

Background: While on vacation in Florida, my managing editor stumbled on a company that outfitted an entertainment coach for Shania Twain--you know, one of those deluxe RVs in which music celebrities travel when they're on tour. This led us to wonder, naturally, what these coaches look like inside. We imagine they're pretty decadent in an awful and wonderful way.

Your mission: To find the companies that design these beasts and wring anecdotes from them about the interior decor as well as, one hopes, about the celebrities themselves. What does Shania (or Whitney, or Lyle, or fill in the blank) want from these homes away from home? Leather upholstery? Satin poufs? Waterbeds?? Giant refrigerators for stowing cases of Cristal? The more subjects and anecdotes the better, and you get bonus points if you interview the celebs directly. (If you need us to intercede with their publicists, of course let me know). This will involve some teeth-pulling, but we'd like photos too. The manufacturers may have pictures, or we can hire a photographer, though it would be very tricky to set up a shoot. See what you can manage. If not, we'll be creative about illustrating the piece.

We want you to have fun with this story. Be bubbly or sneering or deadpan--whatever fits your mood.

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....and it continues with contacts and whatnot. Hmmm. My career is heading straight toward People Magazine - or MTV Cribs, I can't figure out which. Anyway. The brain says, "Do you know what you ate today? Four pieces of Giordano�s pizza, Wendy�s chicken nuggets and the entire carton of biggie fries, that�s what." The stomach says, "mmmm, cherry Pop-Tart."

But now I can pretty much breathe through both nostrils on a regular basis. Did I just get well through sheer willpower? Highly improbable. Damn. That means I will be dragged downtown kicking and screaming tomorrow night, which means I must wear something other than the old Gettysburg sweats. Said sweatpants do not attract the semi-cute boys whom I don�t really want to meet anyway, since I will then want to take them home, which is completely out of the question since they will THEN find out I do not live in a spiffy Gold Coast apartment but rather a DORM. A SCARY DORM. Lord.