Attention, fans of The Bachelor -- Trista's coming back!

I spent the morning at a workshop for urban high-school students interested in journalism. I was one of five novelists, all of whom are current or former Philadelphia area journalists. I was introduced as Jennifer Weener. When, God, when will this end? And just when I was putting my sundered self-esteem back together, one of the students picked up the book, looked at the back cover, then looked at me. "Wow," he said, "they did a lot of work on you for that picture."

Yeah. Right. Thanks for reminding me.

But things got better. I did a lot of writing this afternoon. I learned that GOOD IN BED has moved up to number 21 on the New York Times list of paperbacks, which is cool, because it was number 26 last week, even though is was the number 25 book on USA Today's Big List of Everything, number 11 of all books sold at Barnes & Noble, the number five trade paperback on the Publishers Weekly list, number 5 on the Washington Post, number 6 on the Boston Globe, and number 15 on Booksense.

It makes no sense, I tell you. No sense. At all. ARGH!

Anyhow. The sensible American Idol viewers banishsed Jim Verraros (nice kid, sad story, not so great with the singing and the dancing), and retained my beloved Justin. Big girls are taking over Broadway. GOOD IN BED just went into its eleventh printing. Our friends Steve and Andrea emailed us pictures of Sadie, who I am hereby declaring the cutest pug in the world. I'm going to Cape Cod soon. Life is sweet.