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Before coming to NLADA I received a Jury summons in the mail. Not being worldly enough to know that there was such a massive difference between petit jury and grand jury, I really didn’t make much of it. It would be a couple days at most, and I am sure I would be passed over. I was, after all, working for an association known for its position helping poor folks find good legal assistance. What prosecutor would want to put up with such a loose cannon?

I spontaneously sped towards Pittsburgh, PA, last Saturday afternoon. Hurtling Northwest on Interstate 70. Moving and passing right at 80-85. Sweet Suzi by my Side. Towards what I thought was an heroic act of being a Gentleman for Miss Sarah Connerley.

Last night Mark brought me to Frank Luntz's home to enjoy some baseball.

I stay itchy. Really itchy. I like go scratch da buggah.

After a smashing time in London. Well, a bleeding bloody humid smashingly hot brilliant time in London, I was off to Oxford University.

London just after dark and into the night near Piccadilly and so forth Just Isn't Cricket.

I spend the entire morning unable to connect with any of my mates in London.

Last night Sarah invited me to escort her to the Happy Hour at the Clarendon Grill, hosted by the The Young Benefactors of the Smithsonian Institution.