I have to say, I don't see why these sex addiction stories can't break at times that are more convenient for me personally. Still, unable to blog about it, I texted Vowels and The Junky's Wife on the way to the airport. ("I'm on my way. P.S. Bill Murray is a sex addict.") Then JW texted me back about sharps containers for syringes in the airport bathrooms. She even took a picture. Good recovery blogging fun.

What I found interesting wasn't Bill Murray's divorce or personal life, but the news coverage and what this divorce says about how sex addiction is perceived in our society. First, it's no surprise that the headline in the New York Post read "Bill Murray's Wife: He's a Sex Addict" and not "Bill Murray's Wife: He's an Alcoholic," although that was included in the divorce papers she filed as well. "Sex addict" is so much more gripping and well, salacious.

But more important is the fact that sex addiction is mentioned at all. It shows that sex addiction is (as much as anything can be in a divorce proceeding, where many accusations are viewed with suspicion, as a means to gain an advantage) being taken seriously; it carries enough credibility to be mentioned and can be seen as a painful contributor to the breakup of a marriage. I find this, in a strange way, encouraging. The words sex addiction are moving out there, into the mainstream. Not long ago, it would have been more titillating than it is today to hear someone was an alcoholic, because there was so much more secrecy and shame and so much less awareness and education. (Which is not to say that secrecy and shame are gone from alcoholism or that awareness and education are stellar.) But I believe just naming the disease helps. Letting people know it exists helps. It's the first step toward healing.

And I wish Bill Murray and his soon-to-be ex-wife healing, addicts or not.

I was a bit under the weather, since the kids gave me some crazy virus as a going away present the day before I left. But, thanks to better living through chemistry, the ability to sleep in a hotel bed uninterrupted by small children, and a little "letting go and letting God," I made it through the trip at close enough to full speed that Vowels was able to repeatedly accuse me of lying about being sick.

The wedding was lovely, and Vowels was as elegant and graceful as a classic film star. And I got to hug her real life beautiful self at her real life wedding! At one point, V's new husband came around, doing the polite groomly thing of thanking guests, and I was doing the shyly anonymous thing. He shook my hand and thanked me for coming (whoever I was), and JW punched him and said, "This is MPJ!" Then his face lit up in recognition, and I got a very excited welcome to the wedding.

One of the wedding guests vowed to track down my blog (which shouldn't be hard, since she reads JW's). However, I don't know, with all the drunken bacchanalia (among those without a troubled relationship with alcohol) that goes on at weddings , if she'll remember to do it. (But if she does: You found me!)

While Vowels was off being classy and bridely, JW and I got to spend the whole day chatting in my hotel room, where we spent so much time whirling in talk about blogging, writing and our addict husbands that we not only didn't blog together, we forgot to eat dinner. (JW will deny all that and swear we spent the time making out, but really, who are you going to believe?)

I was even lucky enough to get to spend a little extra time with V on her wedding night before I headed off to bed and my early flight back home. That's were I am now -- late getting my daughter to school! Yep, everything is back to normal already. Darn.

I am also bringing my camera, because my son, in particular has requested photographic proof that these people exist. And because, frankly, I think he may be a little in love with The Junky's Wife, who has quickly picked up on his unique quirks and (because she knows he sometimes reads over my shoulder) writes messages for him with the particular capitalization, spelling and liberal use of kiddie potty mouth words that he likes.

In keeping with the whole anonymity thing, I won't be posting full body pictures here, but I will take hand and foot photos, as I have with trips in the past.

Have a good weekend!

First, an update on the story about Alex Barton, the kindergartener who was "voted out" of his class. The school announced today that his teacher has been reassigned to an administrative post as they investigate the incident and determine a course of action. And I have to say, it's always nice to see school districts start to half-assedly respond to things after being flooded with public outrage. I'm gaining a whole new level of appreciation for my son's school by watching this play out. (But, shhh! Don't tell them! I don't need them thinking that, since at least they're not actively abusing my son, they're doing such a super job that they can rest on their own intolerant, law breaking laurels.)

Second, I'm leaving in two days for Long Vowels' wedding, and I have a ton of end of the school year stuff on my plate as well, so I may not get a chance to post for the next few days, and if I do, it probably won't be anything too substantive. So, I'm going to have to keep you all hanging on, mouths watering, waiting for me to get back on track.

Photo credit: Photo by cindiann on Flickr

I've been reading marta's blog for a while, where she posts updates on the novel she's working on. And I've been wondering when I would ever be able to get a chance to read what she's posted of it.

But then I realized: I'm going to Long Vowels' wedding next week. And since Vowels lives far enough from me to require a plane flight, I'll have hours of kid-free time in which to contemplate my fear of flying -- I mean, read something longer than a blog post. So, I decided I'd print out whatever of marta's novel was available before the trip and take it with me to read.

But marta's not the only one. Shelli at Mama of Letters just posted part of her young adult novel for comments. And I know lots more of you are writing, if not necessarily sharing drafts on your blogs. (If you are sharing, I may not have seen it -- I'm still 440 posts in the hole on Google Reader. I'm progressing in alphabetical order by folder, so when I get to you depends on a combination of where in the alphabet your blog name falls as well as where I have you filed. I'm scrupulously fair.)

So, all you writers, if you've got a manuscript you're willing to share, I'd love to take you on the plane with me. In return, I will honestly tell you what I liked best about your work -- and what I didn't. (But only if you want that "didn't" part. I sure as hell wouldn't, but that's why I'm not trying to get published!)

Leave me a comment with a URL (if you've posted your work online) or e-mail me at mamampj@gmail.com before Thursday, May 29th. (I'm leaving on the 30th and want to make sure I have time to print things.) I will read in the order received.

Hope you'll join me on my trip. What better way to celebrate meeting some of my blogging BFFs than to take others of you with me? This is going to be fun!

Photo credit: Photo by PaMeLa JaCKSoN on Flickr

Long Vowels is getting married next week, and I'm going to her wedding!

Now that might not necessarily be a big announcement. After all, if you've been reading her blog, you know Vowels is getting married. And as far as you know, Vowels could be one of my long-time, real life friends.

But she isn't. Vowels is one of my imaginary friends, my online friends. We have never met in real life. I don't know what her voice sounds like, but we chat all the time. I've never been in the same room with her, but I know her face just the same. No one in my real life knows her, but they hear me talk about her, using her imaginary name: my friend Vowels, V for short.

And now I have a real old school paper wedding invitation right here, just for me, addressed with her own real life handwriting. Yep, this woman has never even met me, yet she's invited me to her wedding, for crying out loud! How crazily wonderful is that?! For all she knows, I could breathe fire. (I am going to try so hard not to burp flames at your sweet man in the middle of the ceremony, V.) Yet we know each other all the same.

And as if that weren't enough (and shouldn't it be?), The Junky's Wife is going to be there too. I'm so unbelievably excited to meet two of my imaginary BFFs in real life that I'm pretty sure it's going to lead to vomiting or fainting or problems with bladder control. It's like I'm going to be meeting rock stars.

But I'll tell you one thing, if you give imaginary friends real life hugs at a real life wedding, they're already real.