I just wanted to apologize for the lack of posts which I know is Super Awful Blog Etiquette 101. I thought I would have some MAJORLY AWESOME material for you guys but GUESS WHAT? I got out of jury duty, so there went my guaranteed blog fodder and instead of OMG YOU’LL NEVER BELIEVE WHAT JURY DUTY IN QUEENS NEW YORK IS LIKE, I can now write a blog entitled “Today for lunch, I had soup and a salad. It was moderately good.”

Turns out I was only a telephone stand by juror. WHAT. Juror #2065 in fact. They told me to call a toll-free number on Friday at 5 pm. My roommate, having been a telephone stand by juror a few months ago warned me that they would inform me I was needed the following Monday, BE PREPARED, IT IS HELL ON EARTH, 8:30 AM, FLUSHING, QUEENS.

I dialed accordingly on Friday afternoon and received an automated message. The first part told me that metal detectors were going to be at jury duty, please be aware.

?? I…okay? I guess I’ll leave my chainsaw at home. DARNIT.

The second part said, “If you are juror #1000-1657, please press 1. If you are juror #1658-4000, please press 4.”

I pressed 4.

A recorded voice said, “THANK YOU. GOODBYE.” and hung up.

?? New York City? WHAT THE ?

I called back twice, convinced there had to be more. What do you mean THANK YOU GOODBYE? Don’t you mean, SHOW UP TO JURY DUTY OR DIE? I mean, how the hell would they know I called? WERE THEY GOING TO ARREST ME RIGHT THIS SECOND? OH GOD, I’M TOO WASPY TO HAVE A CRIMINAL RECORD! PLEASE!

My roommate finally suggested I press 1 instead of 4, just to see what they told jurors #1000-1657. Turns out, when you press 1? They tell you to report to the court house in Flushing at 8:30 AM the following Monday. I WILL NOT BE PRESSING 1 EVER AGAIN. But good news! Looks like they only need 1657 jurors, certainly not 4000 and CERTAINLY NOT ME, Juror #2065.

That was a long-winded way of saying that I’m really disappointed I won’t have a jury duty story for you. I also want to say that I think New York City should definitely revamp the automated recordings because THANK YOU GOODBYE is not that clear and causes people like to me to worry and over-analyze about WHAT IT ALL MEANS while simultaneously feeling really rejected by the judicial system. And people? I have had enough rejection lately.

SRSLY.

In other news, two fabulous people descended upon my house for a visit to New York City. One is a gorgeous American girl, my cousin Elizabeth and the other is her strappingly handsome Italian fiancé, Pino. I have been teaching them very important NYC things like how to attend a really bad improv comedy show for five bucks and subsequently, how to drink a lot of beer at a pub at 3 am.

It is absolutely glorious to have Elizabeth around and quite a lovely treat to meet and spend time with Pino as he was out of town working when I went to Rome last year. I tried with all my might to remember what little Italian I learned with Alayna last year but all I could come up with was “1, 2, 3″, “bathroom”, “diabetic” and “how much does it cost?”

I’ve chosen this last phrase to shout at Elizabeth’s fiancé at any given opportunity. I use it as a greeting, a farewell and anything in between. I tag it onto the ends of sentences, use it as an exclamation, use it as anything at all to Pino and Elizabeth’s constant amusement.

LET’S SEE WHAT’S IN MY FRIDGE, I declare. QUANTO COSTO!?

PINO!, I shout across the bar. I SHALL HAVE ANOTHER STELLA! QUANTO COSTO!

PINO! I remark as he walks in the door, HOW WAS YOUR DAY? QUANTO COSTO?

Elizabeth finally pointed out that I wasn’t exactly asking him “how much does IT cost?”. I was asking him how much HE specifically costs. She says it’s pretty freaking hilarious right now but it might be something to think about when I attend their wedding in Rome next year. I don’t think his Italian relatives will find it funny when I shout at his WEDDING that I want to buy him, like I’m some sick sort of American madame, intent on starting an Italian male brothel.

Now THERE’S an idea for a job.

Anyway, the Italians are lovely house guests and they are keeping me busy and we are having a grand old time except for last night, when I sent them off to a now infamous Yankee/Red Sox game that went on for fifteen innings and because they were gone so long (six hours!) I was convinced that I sent them to the Bronx to die.

They are alive. Just tired. And Pino very much enjoyed his first American baseball game that was absolutely boring until the very end, which also happened to be well after midnight. BUT HEY! What an experience! He was only disappointed at the fact that they stopped serving beer after the seventh inning. BAD FORM, NYC.

So they’re okay! And that’s great because for awhile there, I was all I HAVE NEVER BEEN TO A BASEBALL GAME BUT SURELY THEY DON’T TAKE UP THIS MUCH TIME?! And my mind went to that scary place. (Even scarier than the place it went to when I thought NYC court officers were about to show up at my door because I misunderstood the automated voice system for telephone stand-by jurors.)

I was prepared to greet Elizabeth and Pino and be all,

THANKS FOR STAYING WITH ME IN NEW YORK YOU GUYS! THOUGHT YOU MIGHT WANT TO GET MUGGED AT GUNPOINT IN THE BRONX JUST FOR FUN!

But they were did not get mugged, were totally fine, had a great New York City experience, can’t wait to do more crazy stuff during their stay, etc. and that means a lot to me because 1.) I don’t have to have their blood on my hands and B.) I can continue to inappropriately ask my cousin’s fiancé how much he costs while smiling like a big fat idiot because LOOK AT ME! I’M-A SPEAKIN’ ITALIANO!

And this is why I got out of jury duty, you guys. Because my idiocy should be shared with the world daily and not couped up in a courtroom for a select few. That’s right, YES, SHARED WITH THE WORLD! QUANTO COSTO!?