3:50 p.m. PT: Deliberations end for the day.

Deputy Anderson confirms: The jury has left the building. —Lisa Sweetingham

3:45 p.m.

I can see the jurors exiting out the back door of the courtroom. We could assume they are done with Day Seven, but as one journalist says, "I'm not gonna believe it till I hear it from a bailiff." More details to follow. —Lisa Sweetingham

3:15 p.m.

The alternates are sent home, which means, in all likelihood, we will have more blogging fun tomorrow! —Lisa Sweetingham

1:43 p.m.

Deputy District Attorney Shellie Samuels pops in to get some paperwork signed. She looks relaxed and greets the reporters. Samuels has been working on other cases as she waits for the verdict. For the record, she has never lost a murder case. The Blake trial is her 50th. "My 49th one hung and I pled it out. It killed me, but I couldn't get a conviction," she shares. —Lisa Sweetingham

1:30 p.m.: Deliberations resume.

12:01 p.m.: Jurors break for lunch.

The jurors have taken the lunch recess. They will be enjoying sandwiches and chips today. Some courtroom observers announce that they are going for Chinese food at a greasy joint across the street dubbed "MSG Palace." Jurors will return at 1:30 p.m. PT. —Lisa Sweetingham

11:00 a.m.

The jury has just returned from their morning break. The buzz on the eighth floor: Either we get word of a verdict in the next 10 minutes or we start making lunch plans. Has the buzz ever been wrong before? I mean, if we don't count last week? —Bryan Lavietes

10:04 a.m.

Just waiting out the verdict in the satellite truck when a small media scrum erupts outside. I walk over to find three cameras and a radio reporter peppering a well-dressed man with questions. Turns out the man is Steven Cron, an L.A. defense attorney who has "repped" such luminaries as Paula Poundstone (pictured). He has nothing to do with the Blake case, but a local reporter asked for a few soundbites in case his superiors asked for a story on yet another verdictless day. Once one camera was in place, the others followed, lest they get scooped on something big. "It was like an impromptu press conference, but I had nothing to say," Cron tells me incredulously. —Bryan Lavietes

10:00 a.m.

Verdict watchers fill about one-third of the courtroom. Deputy Anderson is sitting at his desk reading Auto Week while defense lawyer Gerry Schwartzbach talks basketball with reporters. He had game back in the day. Bakley family attorney Eric Dubin is reading the newspaper. Dubin tells me that Holly Gawron, Bonny Lee Bakley's daughter, is back in town after testifying at the trial in January. She's been here since closing arguments, but spent the weekend with Dubin and his wife at their Irvine home. She reportedly played with her attorney's kids and tried to relax. —Lisa Sweetingham

9:40 a.m.

A reporter tells me he had a witness sighting this weekend at Aroma's, the cafe across the street from Vitello's. Richard Noel and Michael Dufficy, the two patrons who testified that they saw spinach-laced vomit in the men's bathroom and that they gossiped about Blake's face-lift, dropped into Aroma's. Noel was seen heading toward the bathroom. —Lisa Sweetingham

9:21 a.m.: Jurors begin deliberations.

8:58 a.m.

Another sunny day in Van Nuys. Jurors arrived today mostly in casual attire. It's pretty sad that this is the first thing the media looks at in the morning to try to speculate what the day holds. But yes, these are the little mysteries we hang onto here, as Day Seven of deliberations begins. The courtroom doors are still locked, so we don't have an official start time yet. Anything could happen. —Lisa Sweetingham

4:02 p.m. PT: Deliberations end for the day.

3:30 p.m.

The press parking lot is a sea of satellite trucks, snaking cables, and baseball-capped men with keys dangling from their pockets. In the middle of the throng is national correspondent Charlie LeDuff, who has been spotted sharing smokes and the lyrics to the Baretta theme song with visitors.—Lisa Sweetingham

Speaking of the lyrics to the Baretta theme song, here they are. Sing along, won't you? We've set up a speaker in the truck so we can really blast it out — both the one-minute TV version as well as the
Sammy Davis Jr. version, which is more than two minutes long.

Don't go to bed, with no price on your head No, no, don't do it. Don't do the crime, if you can't do the time Yeah, don't do it. And keep your eye on the sparrow When the going gets narrow. Don't do it, don't do it. Where can I go where the cold winds don't blow, Now. Well, well, well.

—Bryan Lavietes

2:42 p.m.

Some of the jurors look dapper today. They are taking a break on the courthouse steps. Juror No. 6 is wearing a button-down instead of his usual sports-emblazoned T-shirt. Juror No. 7 is indeed wearing a pink sundress and cardigan. They don't have their verdict-ready faces on, though. And they appear to be congregating in small groups. —Lisa Sweetingham

2 p.m.

Detective Ronald Ito (pictured) shows up, but feigns ignorance of any news of a verdict. Ito, like Blake, has a new haircut. Unlike Blake, he did not do it himself in the shower. Public information officer Sandi Gibbons is also here. "I just came to wait," she says. —Lisa Sweetingham

1:58 p.m.

False alarm. No verdict. Nothing to report. Everybody keep moving. There's nothing to see here! —Lisa Sweetingham

1:54 p.m.

Defense lawyer M. Gerald Schwartzbach (pictured) just went back into the area near chambers with a deputy. Neither gave any indication of news to come. I'll keep you posted. They could just be talking sports scores for all we know. —Lisa Sweetingham

1:02 p.m.: Deliberations resume following lunch.

The jurors resume deliberations. The clerk doesn't know why the jurors began earlier than the usual 1:30 p.m., but speculates it may be because of their late start today.—Lisa Sweetingham

12:10 p.m.

Funny thing about reporters: They are duplicitous by trade. They growl about getting the silent treatment from evasive attorneys and guarded witnesses, and yet, they clam up when their own words are presented for public scrutiny. What's the proper response when your humble servant gets a request from a reporter to censor the blog? Name names, baby!

Wait, no. What I meant to say was: Although it may appear that the hacks covering this trial have too much time on our hands as we play the hurry-up-and-wait game, most of us have spent the past three months living, breathing and examining this case — and treating the people affected by it with professionalism and respect. Reporters are just like you. They have supervisors on their backs. They don't like to be the story (anyone remember Miles Corwin?). And they let off a little steam on occasion, cracking jokes about crack-smoking monkeys, shaved eyebrows and what they'd be doing if court was dark today. They just don't want you to know about it.—Lisa Sweetingham

11:59 a.m.: Jury breaks for lunch.

The deputy announces, "We're shutting down for lunch." Everyone files out. No word from the jurors.—Lisa Sweetingham

10:48 a.m.: Deliberations begin for the day.

Courtroom observer Bill tells me he saw Juror No. 7, aka "Jessica Fletcher," arriving in a pink sundress. Deputy Anderson has officially opened the doors. —Lisa Sweetingham

10:46 a.m.

The jury has not begun yet, we learn, because a juror is running a little late due to an appointment.—Lisa Sweetingham

10:35 a.m.

The usual suspects are hanging around outside the locked courtroom doors: reporters and locals interested in the trial. No word yet on when or if the jurors have begun deliberations. Defense attorney Gerald Schwartzbach arrives and I ask him how he's doing. For reporters, he says in a voice above a whisper, it's another story, but for Blake, it's his life.

Schwartzbach waits with us. —Lisa Sweetingham

8:20 a.m.

Deputy Sonneman breaks the bad news to me and Beth Karas — the courthouse cafe is closed today because the proprietor is ill. We are assured the back area with the ping-pong table will be open to the public. Rumors swirl that perhaps the jury left 15 minutes early because they reached a decision late yesterday and wanted to sleep on it before making it official. Of course, that could just be wishful thinking. —Bryan Lavietes

3:45 p.m. PT: Deliberations end for the day.

The panel has deliberated for 21 hours and will return Friday at 10:30 a.m. PT. The jurors have gone home for the day. They leave in two groups — nine in one, three in the other. Take that for what you will. —Lisa Sweetingham

3:05 p.m.

What do jurors do during their breaks (besides smoke)? A stroll by the courthouse cafeteria yields the incredible truth: they play ping-pong. Five smiling jurors were huddled around the pong table as a
sixth — "Jessica Fletcher" — sat across the room watching TV. What was on, you ask? "The People's Court." No joke. —Bryan Lavietes

1:43 p.m.: Jury resumes deliberations after lunch.

12:05 p.m.: Jurors break for lunch.

Jurors break for lunch. Today, Deputy Anderson confirms, they will be dining on pizza, lasagna, salads and cookies from Continental Burger — a local joint that doesn't actually have burgers on the menu, and that has been monopolizing this panel's lunch business for about a week now.

Deputy Anderson also confirms that while Friday was originally scheduled as a dark day, meaning no court, the panel, which was given the option to deliberate if they wish, has agreed to work from 10:30 a.m.-4 p.m. on Friday IF there is no verdict by the end of today. —Lisa Sweetingham

10:20 a.m.

Ladies and gentleman, Ron Jeremy — the porn star who's slept with over 4,000 women in more than 1,700 films — is a softie. "The biggest thing about Ron is his heart," says his attorney of 23 years, who confirms he has viewed his client's oeuvre. As I gingerly approach them in the basement cafeteria, Jeremy, unsolicited, offers to sign something. He explains he's visiting a friend in court on a marijuana rap and regales me with his latest ventures: a book deal with HarperCollins, a college tour debating First Amendment issues, and a new ad campaign for PETA, featuring the plump, mustached trickster handcuffed and au naturel on a fur-free set. Any advice for Blake? "He's got a tough fight ahead of him." I surrender my notebook and Jeremy draws a heart, shot through with a Cupid's arrow, next to his name. —Lisa Sweetingham

10:18 a.m.

Matt the cameraman just got back from a "break." He reports that Ron Jeremy is back in the cafeteria. Go, Lisa, go!—Bryan Lavietes

9:08 a.m.: Deliberations begin for the day.

9:05 a.m.

"He looked wasted. Wore a suit. Ponytail. Wait, are you putting that in? He didn't look wasted. Don't put my name in there." The cashier in the basement cafeteria is playing coy with the facts. I am told again and again as I prowl the hallways that I have missed Jeremy, who was accompanied by a man assumed to be his attorney, by just seconds. What is he here for? "He's on trial for stabbing," a bailiff in the elevator quips. LA Times reporter Andrew Blankstein has to explain this joke to me. We may not get a verdict today, but there's plenty of hot courtroom action. —Lisa Sweetingham

9:03 a.m.

A little-known and unverified fact: Van Nuys is the porn capital of the free world. A confidential source who knows a thing or two about skin flicks tells me that over half the porn currently in distribution is shot, produced and shipped in the Van Nuys vicinity. So when my cohort Bryan Lavietes tells me he let slip the opportunity to kiss the ring of the king of porn, I rushed down to the cafeteria, dear reader, hoping to right the gaffe and curry an audience with the ugly man's favorite porn star. Truth is, I've never seen Ron Jeremy "in action," so to speak, but the Jeremy mystique intrigues. —Lisa Sweetingham

9:02 a.m.

Rumor mill grinds out a sighting of jurors going in front door, but no official word and the courtroom doors aren't open as yet. The reporters mutter about Jacko's no-show and how it might well kick a Blake verdict off the front page. Do we see stars in Van Nuys? Well, minutes before our last live shot, porn star Ron Jeremy walked by on his way to the courthouse. A few minutes later, I played a hunch and went down to the cafeteria to look for him. He was hunkered down at a table with a man who looked to be his attorney. I wanted to ask him something blogworthy about Blake, but I just couldn't do it. The man fellated himself onscreen, for Pete's sake. I am ashamed that I let you all down. —Bryan Lavietes