That's What Blogger Friends Are For

Today's guest post is from Maggie at OkayFineDammit. She had taken a sanity hiatus from blogging and through, TheBloggess, I was introduced to her, and her many, MANY, ecstatic fans, the day she came out of hiding . She is an amazing writer and, well, I just like her, dammit! That is why I'm honored to host this post for her - one that, for reasons you will understand momentarily, she could not put on her own blog but sorely needed to write. I'm happy to give her a safe place to express herself. That's what blogger friends are for.

When Merlot Mom asked me to guest post here, I about went out of my mind with glee. Honestly, no one has ever asked me to guest post before, and I was overwhelmingly ecstatic and humbled by her request -- just ask her how quickly I responded. I still feel that way, though so much has changed since then.

Originally, the plan was to dig through Merlot Mom's archives; get to know her tone, figure out what inspires her; find words that wouldn't sully her space in her absence.... I didn't know what I would write, I just knew that after reading through her archives, I'd have a pretty good idea, and I'd go from there.

And then something happened. Last night, my brother tried to kill himself.

I don't know when this will post, but as I'm writing these words, I haven't slept for sixteen hours. I did not complete the article that was due today, nor have I bothered to contact my editor with an excuse. I have not showered. I have not even brushed my teeth. I am suffocating on verbal vomit, physically choking back words not safe for use on my own blog.

We're all writers here, right? Isn't that why we blog and gobble up other blogs so voraciously? We all can identify with the urge to wrestle our vaporous inner demons until they solidify on the page, to mark ourselves present in life's roll call, to say, "I'm here, dammit!" no matter how bad it gets. To be seen, acknowledged; to be validated. To work through things we can't understand until we've seen them for ourselves, by the grace of our own fingers dancing across the keyboard.

I've come to depend upon my blog as a sacred space that helps me figure out what I think, helps me name how I feel. It's indescribably therapeutic, and that's why it's so debilitating, to be like this: muzzled.

I get personal on my site, but never at the expense of those who did not ask to be revealed. I respect that my family and friends did not make the choice I did, to expose their veiny underbellies to the world. There is no way in hell I would ever say, on my own blog, that I was destroyed, vacuumed out, chewed to bits -- flat-out fish-knife gutted -- by the events of last night. I don't mind a bunch of Internet acquaintances knowing that I have an alcoholic, bipolar younger brother -- I am not ashamed. And because his story is inextricably interwoven with my own life's tapestry, one could argue I have the right to expose its weave if I so choose. But my blog is widely read by people I do know in real life, and so I draw the line. These words, his pain, my own undoing -- it's not for public entertainment. What's left today of his soul is not for sale, at least, not by me.

Still, I know myself well enough to know that at least part of the paralysis I felt today came not only from the aftershock of last night's scene (hunched helpless on the floor at 2:00am, waiting for the inevitable gunshot to shatter my cellular's speaker phone, the painful grating of his words to his wife, and to me, meant to cut, meant to destroy, the hours that passed like minutes, the arrival of the police, the heart-smashing vision of him in handcuffs, the sobbing puddle I became, the lack of sleep up until this minute), no, it didn't come only from that scene; it came from the inability to use my words to make sense of it. To write the post I needed to write, but couldn't. And so I stayed right here, in bed, all day, teeth un-brushed, body unmoved, article unwritten, its words wedged tight behind the dam of these other, unspeakable ones.

Until I remembered Merlot Mom's offer, and saw it for the true gift it was. Until I knew exactly what I would write here.

I cannot link to this post on my own blog, unfortunately. I cannot promote Merlot Mom's site on mine the way I wish I could. There are ways I'll circle around it, I'm sure; maybe I'll Twitter, maybe I'll email some of you and point you here -- but there will not be a mention of this on my own blog. If you, by chance, travel over there to comment, I will welcome your words, but I hope that you will not cite specifics. I want you to see these words, but I would never want my brother, nor anyone who knows him, to read what's been written here today.

Ohhhh, but how it has helped already. I don't even feel the pressure to turn this into an essay, to circle back and stun you with its profundity. I don't know what it means, what the lesson is, what move I will make next. I just know that today, I've been given a gift, an astonishing gift, to freely speak the words that have held me hostage all day long.

Last night, my very drunk, very sick brother held a loaded gun to his head for hours and I did not know what the outcome would be. He survived, for now, and, you know what? So did I. In no small part because I was able to say it aloud, here. Just to speak its name, suicide, no details necessary. No neat, tied up post, no promising mantra for tomorrow.

There is only one thing I know about what's going to happen next.

I'm going to get out of bed, walk the sweet, familiar path into my bathroom, and finally brush my teeth.

My Love Affair With Merlotmom

If you've been reading my blog lately, and of course most of you have, you know that as of today, I am officially in transit to Japan! Yay! I am on my way to the airport, or in the airport, or on the tarmac, or in the plane flying over the Pacific right now. So, while the cats away, the mice will play, and I've lined up some pretty talented rodents for your reading pleasure.

Today, you'll be hearing from Meghan from A Mom Two Boys. I don't have to link to her because she's already done that below (she's thorough that way). I would tell you how Meghan and I met, fell in love, and would have had babies were it not for a thing called biology (and husbands), but being thorough and quick, she beat me to the punch and wrote all about it right here! I know you'll love her like I do.

Hi! I'm Meghan, of AMomTwoBoys. When Merlot Mom first approached me and insisted asked me to write a guest post for her I was all "Of COURSE I will!" because, I mean really!? Who isn't scared shitless doesn't love Merlot Mom? I know I DO. And since you're reading this, I can only assume you do to. And because I'm going to be talking about her today, I'm going to be lazy and start calling her MM to save us all a bit of time, k?

MM started this here blog way back on the second to last day of December, 2007. A mere seven and a half months ago, with this post. In it, she talked about drinking wine, heating up a frozen dinner, passing out on her son's pillow, va-jay-jay's, and she admitted to being better at keeping in touch electronically than she was at keeping in touch in REAL LIFE. And you know what? I fell in love with her right then and there.

But not really, because I didn't find her until early July. As in, a little over a month ago. I remember it well. It was gloomy sunny July morning and our mutual friend, Manic Mommy, had just linked to each of us in a post. Being a lover of vino, I was immediately drawn to this "Merlot Mom" person that Manic Mommy had tagged for a meme. So, of course, I immediately popped over to her site, where I was met with this post. And then I read a few more and was immediately drawn in.

Then, she replied to my comments and an email love affair soon commenced. We bonded over our love of wine, cerveza and mojito's, our extreme dislike for Kathie Lee Gifford and the fact that our houses are decorated in much the same style (although hers is nicer and MUCH cleaner than mine). And then she joined AllMediocre and our friendship was cemented. Until July 11th, a mere 4 days and 1,000 emails after our first meeting, when she emailed me with the news that would break my heart. She was leaving me in the dust and joining Alltop. Freaking Alltop, my AllMediocre's nemesis.

There were sweet "It's not you it's me"'s whispered in my ear via email. The usual "We can still be friends, can't we" was bantered about. Of course the answer was yes, but my heart was broken. I was even compelled to write a post about it. I was devastated.

But MM and I were destined to be friends, which was even more obvious when we met in San Francisco at the BlogHer conference. It's like we're twins, separated by 17 years. Here we are with some of our BlogHer Bitches:

That's us in the middle.

Even the tragic accident she experienced at BlogHer couldn't keep us apart. Well, okay, it kind of kept us apart physically, because she spent so much damn time traipsing around San Francisco that she totally neglected me missed some kick ass opportunities to hang out with me. But it couldn't really tear us apart.

And upon our return home, MM quickly defected from Alltop to rejoin AllMediocre which only served to further harden the cement in which our friendship was rooted. That's right. I said it. Our friendship is rooted in CEMENT. Which doesn't REALLY seem like something you'd want to "root" in, but I'm confident that the copious amounts of wine flowing through our veins at any given time will keep us strong. And the fact that we're two awesome bitches who were destined to be friends, well that helps too.

I love you, Merlot Mom! And I know that you're rocking your trip to Japan right now, having an awesome, stress free time. Those poor people aren't going to know what hit em! But hurry back, k? Cause we miss you. Mwah.

Merlotmom Is Outta Here

I have a post up today entitled, What I Did This Summer, at LA Mom's Blog.
Please link over and read me there.

I'm leaving for Japan tomorrow but I have some amazing guest posters filling in for me while I sip sake and nibble naguro.

I'll be back after Labor Day with photos and stories to share.

Until then, enjoy my replacements. I always do.

Sayonara.

Give Me The Grateful Life - Monday

K, so I can't offer a giveaway every week but I can offer you eternal bliss if you show me your gratitude. Really. Try it.

Here's mine...

1. I'm grateful for television and video games as I try to prepare for our trip.
2. I'm grateful for waking up in time to push my puppy outside before she vomited on my carpet.
3. I'm grateful for music and headphones.
4. I'm grateful for NPR's "This American Life".
5. I'm grateful for people who understand sarcasm.

Please tell me what your grateful for in your comments. Upon my return from Japan, I'll figure out Mr. Linky but he wasn't cooperating today, and frankly, gratitude I got, patience I'm a little short on.

Have a great rest of your Monday!

And The Winner of the Gratitude Contest Is...

See for yourself on the video below.
Congratulations winner! Email me.

Oh, and say NOTHING about my NY accent - sheesh, where did that come from?
Or my ugly hands, I'll have you know I was once asked to hand model (okay, it was twenty five years ago but who's counting?)

3...2...1...

If You Don't Like Getting Drunk Dialed, Don't Read This Post

Okay, people, I haven't been around lately... Did you miss me? Did you even notice I was gone!?! I've stopped checking my stats 'cause it was not helping my Bipolar condition any. Some days you love me, some days you don't even know I'm alive. Yeah, yeah, you have lives, other loves, other friends. Sure, I'm not special. I get the message.

LOUD AND CLEAR.
I'M NOT DEAF, YA KNOW!

So... back to the reason I haven't been around. Well, it could be 'cause my parents were in town and I spent most of my time driving around LA or stuffing my face. It could be 'cause I'm getting ready for our trip across the world where I won't be able to read a single street sign (freaky), or it could be that I had writer's block so bad I couldn't think of one word to write that didn't suck balls.

I'm reminded of a scene from a Woody Allen movie ("Manhattan"??) where he's going down on a woman in bed but he's having trouble focusing because visions of his parents loom above his head, judging his technique and talking about him like he wasn't even there. (Now if that's not a 'Woody whacker' I don't know what is...ba dum bum.)

Well, since I rarely go down on my husband (yes, Tootsie F., I know we all should do it regularly to keep our hubby's happy but, cry me a river, when he starts treating me the same way he did when he WASN'T getting any...THAT's when I'll decide to give him some) my horrifying visions of parental criticism come to me when I'm writing.

(Insert NY Jewish accents here):

Mom (reading the monitor over my shoulder): "What!? I never did that! What the hell are you talking about? And...even if I did do that...who gave you permission to write about it? Sheldon, tell her she can't write about it."

Dad (over my other shoulder): "Eh, she could write about it if it were funny but I don't even think it's funny. Do you think it's funny? Now Woody Allen, HE's funny."

Soooooo, I haven't been around 'cause I've had parental-induced writer's block. Still kinda have it but since my parents are now in another time zone and since I went out to dinner and had a couple of Ketel One Cosmos, I still have nothing of value to say, but now I just don't give a shit.

Bwaaaaahhhhhh, merlotmom is scaaaaaary when she's drunk blogging. It's like gang bang drunk dialing. Wooo haaaa. This is fun. Maybe I'll give my husband a blow-job. Nahh. I'll go watch Mad Men instead. That Jon Hamm is hawwwt.

Oh, don't forget, see ya tomorrow for "Give Me The Grateful Life Monday" and the winners of last week's contest. Remember you can win 70 free prints from Snapfish or an awesome souvenir from Japan. Yes, Japan! You still have until 5pm PST to be a contender. (I'd link to the post but I'm still buzzed and now I'm horny and want to see Jon Hamm stick his hand up another women's coochie and then wrap his philandering digits around his stunning and pathetic sex-starved wife so you'll have to find the post yourself - you won't have to go too far, remember, I 've had writer's block.)

Okay, enough of me and my run-on lunacy. Tomorrow, my lovelies. I'm off to Hamm-land. I'm hot just thinking about it.

*photo courtesy of google images and myspace.com

Lest You Think I Exaggerate...

it's 10pm,
in merlotmom's house,
not a creature is stirring,
not even a mouse...

...who the hell am I kidding?!




And while I was absorbed in posting this, Peanut was quietly resting at my feet absorbed in a project of her very own...chewing on a dirty tampon. (I'm sparing you a video of it - you can thank me later.)

I wish I could say this was unusual... anyone wanna join me in a glass of wine?