Got Whipped Cream?

So this is the thing. Clearly I taunted the Jury Duty gods. In July, I told a friend who had been summoned for jury duty that I had been called three times before. Once as a mere babe out of college. Once in New Jersey years later—not that many years later. Then again in NYC just after 9/11 (which is a whole other story for another day.) But I have never been chosen, despite (or because of) the arm waving and pleas of Please please please pick me to the assorted judges and attorneys. I had a whole slew of reasons I wanted to serve: life experience, see what a real trial is all about, as a writer how can you not want to see how justice is really done, and/or I am nothing if not loaded with opinions. Not a week after I say this than my fourth jury summons appears in the mail. And this time, when I am madly working on my new book and getting ready to leave for two more book signings in Texas and Kentucky, I get picked. So that is what I have been doing, getting up at 4:30 to get work done before I head downtown with the very same masses that I ALSO taunted in the earlier post about people on their way to work. No wonder they don’t want to hear crazy iPod lady singing loudly. Riding the subway during rush hour is a NYC adventure I’ll be glad to check off the master list of NYC experiences and be done with.

On the Goji juice front, I am drinking it every day and getting used to it, thankfully, since I ran out of pumpkin pie, and eating whipped cream straight is beyond even me—though probably only because it comes in one of those aerosol cans with the nozzle (it’s organic and real, really) and pointing it towards my mouth to get a taste only served to give me a face full of whipped cream, not a mouth full. (If you see a picture of me, I swear I don’t look demented.)

As to your MISadventure on the road, Carilyn, perhaps we should rename you Lucy Ricardo. Oops, I’ve already got dibs on Lucy.

More when the verdict is in…..