Okay, sorry about the whole no-update thing. What can I say? I've been watching ice dancing. And when you've seen a couple from France, on skates, with the woman in full-tilt flouncy-skirted flamenco gear, and the guy in a completely unbuttoned shirt and a sequined cummerbund cha-cha-ing across the ice, believe you me, it makes it hard to concentrate on anything else.

Except maybe short-track skating. What kind of a sport is that? I'll tell you what kind. It's the kind I should have taken up. Think about it! You're in last place. You hang in the back of the pack. You let everyone else crash, burn, wipe out, sustain dangerous gashes from the seventeen-inch blades. You roll across the finish line while they're still staggering to their feet. You win the gold medal. This is not American. It is, however, a moment guaranteed to inspire athletic underachievers everywhere.

So how many days of February do we have left? Isn't February, like, the worst month ever? Aside from Oscar nominations, which usually make me crazy, and Valentine's Day, which is a trumped-up, Hallmark-sponsored holiday, nothing ever happens. You're bored with winter, but it's not spring yet. Here in Philadelphia, the weather gives you a taste of springtime, then slaps you in the face with gusting winds, then turns gray and sullen for a week or two, then dumps some snow on you, just for fun. I want February to be over already, so we can move on to March, which isn't so great, either, and April, when I'll be on tour, out meeting all of you!

And speaking of the tour, it looks like I'll be sharing my April 7 date at the Borders on 17th and Walnut here in Philadelphia with John Searles, author of Boy Still Missing, which is a fabulous, gripping read with a wonderfully sympathetic hero. If you haven't read it, you should, and if you're here, you should definitely come meet John!

One final administrative note -- I'm now officially an ex-employee of the Philadelphia Inquirer. So if you've tried to send me mail to my phillynews.com account, it is now officially lost forever (it turns out that when you quit your job, they take your in-box away. Who knew?) Please feel free to re-send any questions, comments, requests, whatever, to me at jen@jenniferweiner.com.