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Welcome to my little corner of the ether. This is where you will find information about my books and musings on life and love in New York City. To stay in the loop about all things ADR...

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For those of you who were worried, I made it to Monday :) Sunday blues, begone. Today is a new day. An exciting one.

Maybe I am a nerd (very likely). Or maybe I crave an escape from my day-to-day (yup). Or maybe I miss the law a teensy bit (not so sure about that one). Or maybe I take civic responsibility very seriously (could be), but this morning I report for jury duty and I am giddy. And there are a few reasons why I am irrationally stoked to be headed to the other end of this island to sit in an uncomfortable chair in a vast room full of strangers. Here is a list. (Humor me; lists are things both mothers and lawyers love. They make us feel organized.)

One. I have always wanted to be picked for a jury. While it seems the rest of you will spew any excuse to resume your regular life, I am an odd bird, eager to be plucked by that discerning DA for a spot in the box. Last time I did this thing? I had just taken the New York Bar Exam. This fact elicited horror in the eyes of the lawyers; I knew way too much law to be on the case. Probably more than they did. (Don't worry, it has since escaped. Big time.)

Two. Being held captive in a room full of disgruntled New York strangers is a writer's dream. Talk about material.

Three. Being held captive in a room full of disgruntled New York strangers is this writer's dream. I am currently writing my second novel Ivy League Latte about a Yale Law student who finds herself pregnant before graduation. Anyway, my protagonist Clio is called for jury duty right before she gives birth and among those sober strangers fidgeting with newspapers and their BlackBerries, whom does she encounter? Her first love. So, what will I do while those around me fidget with their papers and their Berries? I will write that chapter! (And keep an eye out for the ex). Talk about multi-tasking.

And if I'm actually picked for a jury (unlikely, but a girl can dream), I won't be able to tell you about the case or the judge or the criminal, but I'm sure I will have plenty of other random things to report about the melancholy masses cooped up in a government building on a monotonous Monday morning.

Stay tuned.

Lucky Number 7!

Sundays Are Sad