Well, I am single again, which is perhaps why I haven’t written for dogs’ years. Also, I have been doing my civic duty as Alternate No. 1 in a THREE-AND-A-HALF-WEEK jury trial, which means I’ve been working nights and weekends. (”Saltines for dinner again, miss?” “Thank you, sir, may I have another? In a convenient two-cracker pack perhaps?” “Oh, yes, miss. I have selected the less-crumbled of the bunch for you.” “Thank you, kind sir.” (this is the conversation I have with the Saltines dispensary at 10:32 p.m.)).

I do not feel so bad about being Alternate No. 1 as apparently Charlie Kaufman was Alternate No. X on a one-month employment law trial. And he wrote, among many amazing movies, one of the best play-ish things I have ever seen in my life and am likely ever to see.

Anyway, I will spare you the gory details of both the trial and The Trials and Tribulations of My Love Life (or Sudden Absence Thereof), but I will say one thing: someone was the dickhead here, and it was NOT ME.

However!

OK, that however! was too optimistic. I have been seized with a post-breakup inertia that makes it difficult for me to stave off a bloody nose. (”What do I care if I drip blood down my pajamas as I eat my sad-sack Puffins breakfast in the morning? NO ONE WILL EVER SEE MY BLOODY PAJAMAS AGAIN.” “Of course someone will see your bloody pajamas again, Jen, YOU ARE NOT BLOODY DEAD.” (this is the conversation I have with my Puffins at 7:22 a.m.)).

But, just so you are not too worried about me conversing with carb-loaded cereals and snacks/dinner, I have actually filled the two weeks since the axe fell with dinners and drinks and general merriment. And truth be told, in some ways, which I won’t spell out here this evening, I am relieved it is over.

So now, do-over!

But the question is, do-over WHAT? Do I do-over my personal style (expensive)? Do I move (expensive)? I already got my hair cut* for the first time since October.

I find the older I get the less I am inclined to make the post-breakup overhaul (2004: move to Hollywood and decide on a whim to go to law school (major); 2007: upgrade to Silver Lake hills with a view (less major); 2010: so far I have kept my hair the same length only with more! layers! and baked some cookies.

What is a cheap, non-drastic do-over? I am NOT going back for another degree. Advice welcome and sought.

*If you live in LA, highly recommend Tamara at Gamine.

Have you ever watched someone you love set himself up for complete and total failure out of some obfuscated need and you just go with it and try to make it less painful for all? That was this trip to Joshua Tree: set out upon THREE HOURS later than necessary to make it to the park in time to walk around, when B. was already hungry and didn’t want to go to see some stupid cacti and so had to listen to Harry Potter, which she is obsessed with, on E.’s iPod, which meant E. was subjected to my iPod’s contents (the HORROR!), and when it was sprinkling which we all know means instant gridlock in LA. So this is how our trip to Joshua Tree resulted in: a) this blurry photo of said stupid cacti, the closest we got; b) one incredibly painful dinner at some hippie joint where everything was dirty and sprouted so I was incredibly grateful for the local microbrew; and c) one trip to the Joshua Tree Harley Davidson store for E. to buy a consolatory t-shirt.

But I am already laughing about it and am wondering if E. is ready, too. I will tread lightly and see. That’s one thing I have learned in life: you can’t laugh about something until the other person is ready, too. If they’re not? Disaster, it isn’t hard to master.

This is a photo B. took from the backseat on our girls’ day out a couple weekends ago. First we made Valentine’s cards at Pottery Barn Kids for free (cool, except DUDE, heart-shaped cards, those star stickers your teacher puts on your homework and crayons! that’s ALL you’ll pony up, PBK?!) (p.s. B. didn’t even care and I loved watching this sweet little boy come back to make three(!) Valentines (mom, dad, grammy) while his sisters just perused the store). Then we had lunch at Morel’s, where B. was super stoked to discover how huge the portions of Epoisses were (she is 9!). Then we wandered around American Girl Place, had some ice cream, saw a movie and got our nails done. And picked up E. for dinner downtown. Heavenly!

And this is leaning over the Santa Monica pier, when Katie, Christian (Kates’ husband, one year already!) and David came to visit me, and I took them (well, Christian drove, that man loves to take the helm of any Cadillac, rented or no) to see the Pacific at sunset (you only get sunrise on the ocean in Boston). Oh, I miss them so much. There are many friends I have I don’t get to see very often. But there are only a few for whom my heart starts to hurt if I go too long without seeing them. Apparently a Boston trip is in my near future!

The scenery is nice there, too.

1. Tonight at the Trader Joe’s my check-out dude, after I handed him my ID and he verified that I was, indeed, over 21 (surprise!), returned my ID to me and said, “Word.” I was not really sure what that meant, and normally I ignore other Californians’ speech tics because, well, hey, I just said it was the check-out “dude” who handed me back my ID. That’s how we roll here.

But then as he was packing my sad little groceries of buffalo chicken wings, Puffins, wine and flowers and some baby broccoli (which I put in there out of guilt and which will probably rot in my refrigerator) into my Envirosax and I told him I’d carry the flowers (which obviously weren’t going to fit), he replied, again, “Word.”

And I tell you I spent 10 minutes on the walk to my car (you think I am crazy enough to try to actually park in the Silver Lake Trader Joe’s parking lot at 6:30 p.m. on Wednesday? then you are crazy. word), trying to figure out what the corollary in my own lexicon was to “Word.” Essentially he was acknowledging receipt of some communication from me and approving its contents, right? I vacillated between “great” and “thank you” for a while before giving up and deciding I would have to leave this great mystery of life unsolved.

2. Speaking of mysteries, my parents gave me some Miss Marple and Sherlock Holmes DVDs for Christmas and they ROCK so hard! I can’t believe Joan Hickson was so ancient and yet bopping along when she made them. And I cannot even believe that E. thinks Basil Rathbone is The Definitive Sherlock Holmes. I have yet to shred that notion until a tiny million sad little pieces with a viewing of the genius that is Jeremy Brett, but that day will come.

3. I haven’t read anything since Lorrie Moore’s Anagrams over Christmas, which was awesome, but I’m ready to start in again. Only. Not quite ready. Whenever I take a long break from reading I always feel like I have to start in easy, like maybe with a little Twilight series re-read, before I can get into the real stuff. It’s like vegetables. You CANNOT, unless you want a painful and socially awkward next few days, go overboard with vegetables if you haven’t had them for a while. You cannot, for instance, eat, as I did a few days ago, an entire bag of brussels sprouts* for dinner (only 200 calories!) first thing. You have to ease into these things. Word.

Since December 5:

Finally, January 31:

The owl is a Mincing Mockingbird original. On the back it provides the caption, “Another Night, Another Bout of Sickening Yet Exhilerating [SIC] Butchery.” Bwahahaha. A present from E. for Christmas. I bought MM’s book at UniqueLA with some of his birds and sayings, and COULD NOT GET ENOUGH. Seriously, I make everyone who comes into my house read it. Two of my favorites that have made me laugh out loud just reading them to myself (you have to imagine beautiful paintings of birds who are saying these most incredibly ridiculous things): “Realizations Made While In the Midst of a Sketchy But Much Needed Manicure” and “Pledging Obedience to an Authority I Like to Call Thug Life.” Oh, and there’s my magnet: “You’re a Whore and That Makes me Sad.” I bought the book for my brother for his birthday last year and we still laugh about it to this day. I also buy MM’s wife Frantic Meerkat’s c-c-c-crazily awesome greeting cards (she has sweet Valentiine’s cards I have purchased for B. & E., as well as a temporary tattoo)*, and have turned several into prints on my wall.

Anyway. This post title is totally stolen from one of MM’s painting titles from his book (picture it coming from a beautiful cockatoo).

And it means that %^^#*$@((@(@&&@@^^%$%$%$ billable year 2009-2010 is over for me as of TODAY, and I cleaned my %^^#*$@((@(@&&@@^^%$%$%$ apartment for the first REAL time (aside from necessities) in 2 months today. And took down my Christmas tree. Brutal (8 hours!) yet HEAVENLY.

These last three months were the worst on record of my life, second only to the two months I spent studying for the bar exam. Imagine if you just skipped out on work for 9 months, and then had to do an entire year’s worth of work in 3 months? That was my life.

And when I read that caption (Pets That Dream of Living in More Orderly Homes) today, I wondered, do F&E give a crap if things are messy? I know they care when I don’t get home until 10 or 11 and they’re starving and I have about 15 minutes of lap time before I’m asleep, but do you think they care if the Christmas tree is still out and my mail is piling up on the counter and I haven’t watered the plants? Do you think your pets care? I dunno.

What I do know is I care. AND I AM SO HAPPY TO BE DONE WITH THIS YEAR (a month late, stupid delayed firm billable year).

So, hello (finally!), 2010! I’ll meet you at the bar. I’ll be the only one with newly-manicured hands, a fresh haircut, a super-cute plaid dress I bought at Anthropologie because my opposing counsel on that deal was so mean I needed a pick-me-up and which kind of makes my hips look bigger than they are (just a little bit, said B.; HUGE, said E. (gotta love honesty in a man, HRMPH), and looking like I need a drink like no woman has ever needed one before. Cheers!

*No, they are not paying me for this, I just think they’re that awesome. It’s like the first time you heard Yeasayer and you couldn’t believe it.

1. I am not sure whether I think Heidi’s new haircut is fresh and girl-next-door or boring and Mom. I cannot decide. BUT either way, I am super happy Project Runway is back in New York! I just couldn’t buy Mood in… Culver City. And I live here! (Although I never go to Culver City. Or anywhere west of Fairfax for that matter. Um, except for tomorrow night when I am heading to Culver City to see E.’s friend play. Anyway.)

2. At a party, one person I can talk to about what death means, relationship dealbreakers and his relationship with his niece. Other people I can only talk to about Project Runway and/or the weather (my weather conversations/thoughts are not as awesome and entertaining as Laurie’s). I will never know if it is because (a) the tv/rain-talk-partner is just incredibly boring, (b) we have personalities that would never get along if we weren’t forced by social convention and physical proximity to speak, or (c) I am socially awkward but a select few other weirdos don’t mind.

3. No idea still when I will get that Christmas tree down. Haven’t made it home before 9 one night this week, most nights later than that. Have not seen E. and B. since Sunday. LAME.

4. This may be too large of a question for a Thursday evening, but when will my life ever be SETTLED? I know nothing is ever settled, really, it’s not over til, well, I don’t know, something other than that phrase I REALLY don’t like that references a woman exercising her vocal chords happens, but I would like SOMETHING to be settled. My career, my relationship future, where I’ll be living next month. Right now the only thing that is settled is the cats on my lap, who are in fact making it difficult to type. Enh, maybe that’s enough for now. They’re pretty cuddly and warm, and it’s cold outside. What with all this weather we’ve been having. I know, can you believe it, this rain? And hey, have you seen the new Project Runway? Can I get you another beer?