Remember, I had to show up for jury duty today or risk a bench warrant for my arrest. I mean, jeeez! So, fine, I showed up. I had to be there at 7:30 in the morning. That meant not only was I sleepy but I’d had no coffee and no breakfast. This was not an auspicious start.

Don’t you know that I was immediately selected for a panel. We had to trudge three blocks like little ducks to another court and then, because the universe hates me, I was selected to move to the jury box.

I was juror number ten. They were only choosing six, so I figured I had a pretty good chance that I would be eliminated.

We began the interview process wherein the judge — who was named Paul Simon (totally not kidding) — and all the attorneys asked us a million questions. I told them all kinds of stuff about me I hoped would persuade them to hate me. I told them I work in finance, that I’m a comedy blogger, that I’m a published author. I told them I read all the newspapers (The Times, Wall Street Journal, local papers, the ENTIRE internet). As a regular human I would have found that incredibly annoying. I told them I walked in on a home burglary. They informed us the defendant was charged with DUI. I informed the court I have a relative with a DUI. I told them I was only available for one day (more on that reason next week!).

I was pretty sure I was golden.

The universe had other ideas. I was selected. Seriously. Of all the people they had to choose from, ALL of the attorneys asked for me. WTF? Ava said that it was my own damn fault for acting smart.

I was given a notepad and a pen. I took extensive notes. People looked at me weird while I scribbled furiously, but honestly, you put a writer in a jury box, notes are going to happen. I wrote down e v e r y t h i n g.

We were instructed a gazillion times that the state had to provide PROOF BEYOND A REASONABLE DOUBT to find the defendant guilty.

This is what I know beyond a reasonable doubt –

• I’m entirely too fidgety for a jury. Everyone else on the jury was able to sit still like an adult. Not me. Fidget fidget fidget.
• The judge didn’t wear a robe. Isn’t that the best part of the judge job? The wardrobe? I’d have insisted on the robe.
• The defense attorney thought he was a comedienne. I swear to god during his opening statements he invoked the movie My Cousin Vinny using the line, “The two yutes”. I assure you he is not a comedienne. He was not funny. He irritated the hell out of me. He got the blank death stare when he directed a funny to the comedy blogger.
• I told the court I was freaked out about missing Friday at work if the trial ran over. It’s true, I was, but what I was really freaked out about was missing my hair appointment. Those things are hard to get.
• I discovered somewhere about the 37 minute mark of the trial that I had an enormous zit brewing on my chin. I then became obsessed with that.
• The defendant had a very foreign name – one of those with way too many consonants and not enough vowels from the general area of Eastern Europe. I became very interested in learning the correct pronunciation, but I never learned it.
• The judge instructed us that the jury members could write notes to the judge to ask questions. I really, really, REALLY wanted to do that, but I couldn’t for the life of me come up with a question that wouldn’t get me yelled at.
• I found it absolutely fascinating that the oath given to the witnesses did not include swearing to God.
• Whenever the lawyers had a side bar with the judge, he turned on a white noise machine. It sounded like static and it totally cracked me up every time.
• There was extensive time taken over the prospect of field sobriety tests. I have very deep concerns that I could not pass a FST even on my soberest day. Walking heel to toe and a one-legged stand? Nope. I’ll bet Ava couldn’t do it either.
• When the criminologist took the stand they actually made her do math during her testimony. She had to pull out a note-book and a calculator and figure out blood alcohol levels in front of an audience. My stomach got woozy on her behalf.
• Every time one of the lawyers finished with statements or a witness ended their testimony I had to sit on my hands to keep from applauding. It just felt like the polite thing to do.
• During the testimony, we learned that the judge was deaf in his left ear. Really. I guess there’s nothing wrong with that, but it seemed interesting, and I pondered it for quite a while when I should have been listening about chemical tests that no one was disputing the validity of.

When we were sent to lunch I made a point of jaywalking. I was hoping for an arrest because it would get me out of the rest of the trial. I don’t think they can yell at you for that, can they? I mean, jeez, you’re in jail.

Finally, the lawyers rested their cases and the six of us were sent to deliberate.

Guess who was the jury foreman? That’s right. Me. Because I have shit to do. It took less than five minutes.

That, my friends, is how you do jury duty.

I was notified of jury service several months ago. My scheduled date was for my second day at my new job. I called the jury office and the lovely lady moved my date to the beginning of this month.

The day before I was scheduled to appear, I checked the website to see if I actually had to show and my group wasn’t listed. YAY!!! Instead I went to lunch with Ava and the World’s Greatest Unemployed Receptionist. It was a hell of a lot better than languishing downtown in the jury room all day.

About a week later, I received a very firmly worded POSTCARD in the mail that I failed to show up for my jury duty. Wait, what? Yes, a post card. That’s what the Supreme Court people send out when they’re threatening you with the ultimate punishment for missing jury duty – a POSTCARD. If it wasn’t so damn funny, I’d have felt much more intimidated.

The CARD stated that if I failed to show they would issue a bench warrant.

Because that’s exactly how I expect to go to jail — failure to show up for jury duty. Can you imagine? Not for stealing an animal from the zoo. Not for stalking the Jared Leto with Ava. Not for smuggling exotic animals across the border.

It would be a hell of a blog, though, eh?

I called down there and this time the woman on the phone wasn’t nice. She was condescending. God, I hate that. Anyway, she rescheduled me AGAIN and was very firm that I actually show. Also, I should try not to be an idiot when I check the website for my number. She reiterated what I should wear because it was obvious that I had trouble reading. I felt properly belittled by a civil service employee.

I’m going to complain with a nasty postcard of my own+. I think one with a rabid squirrel on it will properly convey my feelings.

We wouldn’t put it past Jojo Kitty to sext other cats if he had access to a phone. We won’t even allow him to have a Facebook account.

Amylynn made a tactical error today. She wore jeans to work. It’s Friday after all and that means jeans. Anyway, she got the most adorable pink nail polish yesterday, and her toes need polishing. If this blog entry is never finished, it’s because she passed out trying to fold herself in half while wearing jeans. Have you ever tried to fold your foot up to your face when you’re wearing denim? First you feel a bit woogy from the polish fumes, and then you start to cough which is damn near impossible to do with your diaphragm constricted. Then the dizziness begins and, before you know it, there are stars dancing in front of your eyes. DO NOT fall off the chair when you pass out. That’s a rookie mistake. You’ll probably hit your head, but more devastating than that would be screwing up your polish because then you have to start all over again. Anyway, here’s some funny stuff while we practice breathing.

1. All the best people go. Some of them are dragged, kicking and screaming, but they go. We’re talking about Chipotle of course. We’re sure you’ve heard that Hillary Clinton was in Chipotle this past week. She and the vice-chairwoman of her campaign ordered just over $20 worth of food. The big scuttle butt is that Hillary didn’t speak to anyone there. The Sisters wonder if SHE WAS HUNGRY. Why doesn’t it ever occur to anyone that perhaps famous people get hungry and just want to shove some brown rice and genetically unaltered chicken in their mouths. Also, some people are also aghast that she didn’t tip–despite the fact that she didn’t pay. The other woman treated. We took an informal poll of people who eat at Chipotle and we learned that no one tips. We didn’t even know that was a thing. What have we learned from this story? That it’s going to be a very long political season.

2. Team Daenerys. We’ve been very forthright with you that, when it come to Game of Thrones, the Sisters are firmly intrenched in Team Daenerys. She has dragons. Enough said. Also, Khol Drogo. Seriously. Take a moment if you need one. There was a time when we could have been persuaded to go team Stark, but that was only because of the direwolves. When it comes right down to it, our favorite Stark has always been Arya regardless of her ownership of a direwolf (which she doesn’t have anymore now anyway). We have one thing to say to Daenerys. We’re really disappointed that you locked up your babies in a dungeon. No wonder they’re mad at you. Jeez, when

This is her current family

we are 3 minutes late with Jojo Kitty’s food he’s mad, and he gets free run of the house. We suspect you’re going to need those dragons very soon, honey, and you had better head down there with some kibble and make amends.

3. Where are her people? Have you heard about the crazy German woman who is having quadruplets. That sentence alone is enough to wonder about a person’s sanity, but there’s more. She’s 65-years-old. She already has 13 children ranging in age from 9 to 44 with five different fathers. She decided to get pregnant again because her 9-year-old daughter wanted a younger sibling. We’ll wait here while you roll your eyes.

Not your regular Starbucks machine

There is so much here to boggle the mind that we don’t even know where to start. She should have just gotten a dog, some therapy, and maybe a nice bottle of wine.

4. There is never an excuse for instant coffee. Cape Canaveral is getting ready to send SpaceX, a supply ship, to the International Space Station with an authentic espresso machine straight from Italy along with a bunch of food and stuff. The ISSpresso (get it? International Space Station = ISS) machine was made by Lavazza who worked with an engineer from Argotec and the Italian Space Agency to make a machine that works in space, and is intended for astronaut Samantha

Our Ipsy bag for April

Cristoforetti of Italy. Unbelievably she’s been up there since January drinking instant coffee. Egads! That’s appalling. Someone needs to answer for this.

5. Makeup samples are gifts from the gods. We defy you to find a woman who doesn’t love makeup samples. You won’t. She doesn’t exist. We located Ipsy and our prayers were answered. Each month they send you a bunch of samples, some things are even full size, of stuff you’d never have found on your own. We’ve amassed eye shadows, crazy-expensive moisturizer, nail polish, lip gloss, perfume, eye liner, mascara – you name it. And each month it comes in a different adorable little zippered clutch bag. See that pink polish – that’s the one on Amylynn’s toes right now. Yay! The Ipsy bag is here!

I’m so excited about this book because it’s a real departure from the regular Regency historical.

I wanted to try something different – and since Anna’s story has been requested so many times by my readers – I wanted to make sure she had something special.

For some reason, the minute I wrote him in the 2nd book, I had Captain Johnson pegged as the man for Anna. She’s a spunky, mouthy, opinionated lady and she needed someone who was going to take her out of her comfort zone.

I figured plopping her in the middle of the American West would do all that.

I’ll tell you it was a bitch to research. Getting someone UP the Mississippi river in 1815 was HARD.

Anyway, you’ve seen the cover,  but it’s so gorgeous, I’ll show you again.

Miss Sinclair’s Secret

Anna Sinclair is an English lady who refuses to settle—not if all her friends have love matches. When she receives notification that her father, General Sinclair, is missing and presumed dead in America shortly after the War of 1812, she knows she has nothing to lose by going to find him. In an untamed country, she’ll need to navigate the Mississippi River, miles of wilderness, earthquakes, Indians, and one absurdly attractive American sea captain.

Nathaniel Johnson is an American patriot whose only goal is to return to the country he loves with his recently located brother, a sailor impressed by the British. The money offered to escort a young English woman to the United States is too much to pass up when he’s desperately trying to save his family’s shipping empire. The beautiful lady spins a ridiculous tale about looking for her father, but Nate has powerful reasons to believe she’s a spy for the Crown. He’ll help her on her quest, at least until he can prove her villainous intent.

Will Anna’s secret destroy his country and be his undoing?

Buy it here!

As promised, we managed to get my radio interview during the Greenburg Financial program onto a manageable format.

You know what pleases me the most about this recording? My voice does NOT sound like a little kid’s. Nor does it sound like a chipmunk. Honestly, that was one of my biggest fears.

It runs for just over 25 minutes. Let me know what you think.

Thank you very much, Mr. Bright, for muscling this into something I can use.

This weekend we went to see the Arizona Diamondbacks play the Los Angeles Dodgers in Phoenix. I got the tickets for My Honey for Christmas. On the way up there we stopped at the outlet malls.

Bad things happened.

Specifically at the Michael Kors store. 

There was this glorious bag. It spoke to me from the back of the store. I could hear it’s murmurings the minute I entered, but it took me a few minutes to find it. Once found, it was obvious it belonged to me.

Like Harry Potter with the parseltongue, I speak purse fluently.

This purse is beautiful. It has a handle as well as straps so it can be worn as a backpack. It’s butter soft black leather with leopard print fur on the flap.

Seriously.

How can a purse like this be ignored? It can’t.

The sale price was outrageous — 25% of the original price. I hadn’t intended to spend money on a purse. I dithered even while I stroked the leather.

Sassy said, “Buy it!” because she doesn’t work and has no idea what the hell she’s talking about.

I texted Ava.

“Tell me I don’t need the backpack purse from M Kors.”

“I have a backpack by Coach you can have if you need that,” she responded.

“It’s too late. Things happened.”

You can’t possibly blame me. Look at the thing.

The lady who sat next to me at the baseball game commented on how pretty it was. I even let her pet it.

We’re writing this at 9:51am on Friday, and we’re wondering how soon is too soon to try to figure out when we can get out of work. Also, we’d like a muffin. And another cup of coffee. Good coffee — not this crap the office gets. We could go on a Starbucks run, but the car is all the way downstairs and way across the parking lot. That’s really far. You know, perhaps our biggest issue today is that we’re feeling extraordinarily lazy. You know what would perk us right up? Coffee and a muffin. Why doesn’t Starbucks deliver? Can you imagine how much money they could make on that? We’re already willing to pay $5 for a cup of coffee; imagine how much people would pay if they didn’t have to walk all the way through the parking lot and get into a hot car to get it. And what if it came with a muffin? Hey, Starbucks people – get on that, would you.

1. Speaking of Starbucks. Did you know they make grilled cheese? They do. We found out entirely by accident. We met there for lunch so we could work on some book stuff which we probably didn’t do because we have a little trouble keeping our conversations on track. We were anticipating ordering the double smoked bacon, chedder and egg sandwich, but they were all out. The horror! So we asked the barista to tell us what she did have. The third thing out of her mouth was, “We have grilled cheese.” What? We love grilled cheese. What’s not to love? The Old-Fashioned Grilled Cheese has a three cheese blend of white cheddar, yellow cheddar, and mozzarella on nice thick multi-grain bread. It was wonderful. You should get it.

Ahhhhhhhh!

Unless you intend to get it at OUR Starbucks. Then, no. Grilled cheese is not for you. Also, you won’t like the chocolate croissants either.

2. Sweet Jesus, that’s terrifying. The town in New York that claims to be the hometown of Lucille Ball has put up a life-sized bronze statue of her in a local park. Isn’t that a lovely idea? Everyone loves Lucille Ball. She was adorable and wore polka-dots. Here’s the problem. The statue is hideous. You’re thinking, “Right. How bad could it be?” Hideous is not too strong a word. The face is the stuff of nightmares. The town wants the artist to fix it, but he’s saying it will cost him $10,000 to do the repairs. We think this is a hell of a scam. The other possibility is that he’s the sculpter version of the American Idol contestant whose singing voice cuts glass and makes children cry, but who is positive they are the next Barbara Streisand. Sometimes people just need to face facts.

3. Here is another reason why fishing is a bad idea. Besides the fact that it happens OUTSIDE and in a boat far away from bathrooms and coffee houses, it turns out fishing is relatively dangerous. Oddly not for the reason you’d think, though. A guy in San Diego was standing on a boat posing with a fish he caught when a hungry sea lion launched himself over the railing of the boat and grabbed the fish. Also the guy’s hand. Fish, man, and sea lion all went all the way to the bottom of the bay. That’s 20 feet. We suspect the sea lion was just as shocked as the guy when he realized his snack was a bit larger than he’d expected. And was wearing

Youuuu light up my liiiiiife

shoes. All of this could have been avoided if the man had just stayed inside like we’re always telling people to do.

4. And you thought only in Disney movies. It turns out mice sing. Their little voices are very high pitched, too high for human ears. Starting in the beginning of their wee lives, they sing for their mommies and then later, when the hormones kick in, for mates. Turns out the males are like a whole group of Back Street Boys. They sing loud complex songs when they’re looking for a lover. Once they find her, the song gets all longer and more gentle. Like they go from Motley Crue to John Legend. That’s kinda cute. We wonder if cats can hear their ultrasonic love ballads. If that’s the case, they need to keep it down at the Bright Compound. Jojo Kitty is totally on to you.

5. Shoes that fly! Amylynn got some new kicks! Remember when you were a kid and got new sneakers and you’d race around the store to see how fast you could run and stop, and how high you could jump? Her new shoes are epic. She’s wanted them forever, and when she saw them in the store this week it was a no brainer. These might be the coolest shoes in the history of shoes. Now we’re stalking Amazon so we can be the first kid on our block to get the Lasso of Truth as soon as it’s available.

Do you remember me telling you about my bat issue from several weeks ago? If not, refresh yourself here. It seems more people read this blog than we ever realized. Why else would there be an article in the paper entitled Warm Weather Safety Reminders?

First, I had to laugh at the Warm Weather comment. We’re already debating how early the first 100 degree day is going to come this year. At this rate, I’d put my money on next Tuesday.

As I read the article, I began to think it was written especially for the Sisters.

“First, let’s all give the wild animals a wide berth.” Who, me?

This is the sun – note the direct line right to Arizona

There’s a picture of an especially angry-looking bat with a caption that says, “Never touch or pick up a bat or other wildlife.”

I assure you, there is absolutely no chance whatsoever that we’re going to pick up a bat. They’re freaking scary looking. (Ava – I’ll pick one up, they’re cute when they’re upside down.) As for “other wildlife”, that’s totally happening.

Next the article suggests we “watch out for mosquitos.” Isn’t that the problem? You don’t really watch for mosquitos. You only know when there are mosquitos when you’re itchy. Perhaps it says you should listen for mosquitos. When I went to Alaska for my Bestie’s wedding, you could hear the mosquitos coming like B-52 Bombers. I’m not especially susceptible to bug bites. Actually, I rarely, if ever, get them. However, my mother and children are like a buffet for insects. This article suggests the best defense is to cover up with clothing. What clothing is this? My mother could wear head to toe netting sealed with duct tape and I’d bet there’d still be a bite or seventy.

The last bit of advice suggests you be mindful of the heat. Like you could be anything BUT mindful. You’re to wear a hat and sunglasses and slather yourself in sunscreen if you want to go for a run. Who the hell is running? Are you running from the mosquitos and the bats?

Additionally, we are to drink plenty of water. However, if there is going to be a bat and mosquito infestation this summer I’d suggest you forgo the water and go straight for margaritas. I have a theory that bugs don’t like the alcohol. Or maybe you won’t care as much about the bites if you’re drunk.

So, I’ve condensed all this advice into something useful.

Don’t go outside.

You’re welcome.