One night, my freshman year of college, I went to hear a Buddhist monk speak. Part of the talk was about the freeing quality of owning less. It made no sense--the less you have, the more you'll feel in control? Except that my life felt quite out of control at that point, so I was willing to give it the old college try.

I went back to my dorm room and dumped most of my possessions in the trash room down the hall. I removed every picture from my wall, gave away any book not necessary for my studies, and tossed out dozens of small items I had accumulated in the first six months of college.

I had a lot of regrets afterwards. I also did feel more in control in my life, less cluttered. There was thinking space.

I can't make myself get into one of these decluttering states--they mostly come to me when I'm very anxious, but when they come, I always ride out the impulse, using it to reorganize, pare back, give away anything unneeded. I accumulate so much stuff. Drawers of tiny play-doh samples and twelve pairs of scissors and used birthday candles. I have dishes we never use, broken measuring spoons, a can of mandarin oranges we will never eat. I have more books than a library. I literally have several thousand books, a large chunk of which could be donated and put to better use.

I have been decluttering for a few weeks now. In the process, I've also been redecorating. One of the strange things about this house is that there are no doors on the closets. Every closet opening is a strange size and we need to get new doors cut to fit the space, except we've never gotten around to it. It occurred to me that I could put up a curtain in place of a door and buy myself more time to work on that project.

So Lindsay and I headed to IKEA for furniture and decorative items. We were debating between two choices--a white curtain with a black pattern that would have been safe in my white and black kitchen or an orange curtain that would make me happy every time I looked at it. Even though my head was telling me "white curtain white curtain don't be a fool, Melissa, white curtain" my very loud heart simply said, "orange." I went with orange.

It is not perfect, nor does it look very grown-up, but as Josh said, "it is whimsical and therefore, it's you. And the orange is us. It makes me happy when I sit down to eat." It does make me very happy. We all just like to sit in there now and talk at the table.

On the theme of decluttering, we went to the river for tashlich, which is part of Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year. We stood at the river's edge and figuratively threw into the water all that we didn't wish to take with us into this upcoming year. A soul's decluttering. Gone is the jealousy, the self-doubt, the bitter feelings. I mean, until they bubble up again. You know, since clutter usually returns.

In addition to telling us what has happened in your life in the last month, if you could grab an uninterrupted day to declutter and reorganize one room of your house, which would it be? Until this week, it would have been my kitchen. Now it's my living room. What I would give to get rid of the huge pile of papers in the corner...

As always, it has been about a month since we met, bitched, cried, comforted, and caught up each other on our cycles and lives. Pull up a seat and I'll pour you a drink. Let everyone know what is happening in your life. The good, the bad, the ugly. My only request is that if a story catches your eye, you follow it back to the person's blog and start reading their posts. Give some love, give some support, or laugh with someone until your drink comes out of your nose.

I have a ton of assvice in my back pocket and as a virtual bartender, I will give it to you unless you specifically tell me that this is simply a vent and you do not want to receive anything more than a hug.

So if you have been a lurker for a while (or if this is your first open bar as someone who found this space through IComLeavWe), sit down and tell us about yourself. Remember to provide a link or a way for people to continue reading your story (or if you don't have a blog--gasp!--you can always leave an email address if you're looking for advice or support. If not, people can leave messages for that person here in the comments section too). If you're a regular at the bar, I'll get out your engraved martini glass while you make yourself comfortable. And anyone new, welcome. I'm glad you found this virtual bar.

For those who have no clue what I'm talking about when I say that the bar is open, click here to catch up and then jump into the conversation back on this current post.

So have an imaginary cocktail and tell us what is up with your life.

It seemed like the perfect time to open the doors of the Virtual Lushary and encourage everyone to get good and figuratively drunk, distracting them from searching for a post that fits the first clue.

A toast: to Blogger Bingo! Long may it be played.

In addition to pouring drinks, I am serving ice cream today. Big scoops of rocky road or mint chocolate chip or vanilla.

My perfect moment (how many things can I work into one post--the Virtual Lushary, Blogger Bingo and now Perfect Moment Monday?) came on Saturday after the Our-Family-Beginnings-and-Stirrup-Queens crews went to get ice cream outside in the rain after surviving Costco (and grinding 6 pounds of coffee--just in case you ever wondered how I do so much. It's the 6 pounds of coffee. Don't judge me).

Which doesn't sound like a good idea in theory (and perhaps wasn't a good idea once it came time to walk back to our cars), but was excellent in practice. I got caramel explosion ice cream with bits of Twix cookie and we sat at a table under this huge umbrella. You could hear the rain hitting the thick umbrella, but we were all mostly dry. And we got to eat ice cream in the middle of the day, before dinner. Some of my favourite people all around one table, in the rain, eating ice cream. Talk about a perfect moment.

List your own perfect moment, not here, but at Lori's list. You can even Twitter it and add the link to the Tweet on her linky thing. Pretty damn cool.

Over here, we're just discussing what has been happening to you this past month.

As always, it has been about a month since we met, bitched, cried, comforted, and caught up each other on our cycles and lives. Pull up a seat and I'll pour you a drink. Let everyone know what is happening in your life. The good, the bad, the ugly. My only request is that if a story catches your eye, you follow it back to the person's blog and start reading their posts. Give some love, give some support, or laugh with someone until your drink comes out of your nose.

I have a ton of assvice in my back pocket and as a virtual bartender, I will give it to you unless you specifically tell me that this is simply a vent and you do not want to receive anything more than a hug.

So if you have been a lurker for a while (or if this is your first open bar as someone who found this space through IComLeavWe or Blogger Bingo), sit down and tell us about yourself. Remember to provide a link or a way for people to continue reading your story (or if you don't have a blog--gasp!--you can always leave an email address if you're looking for advice or support. If not, people can leave messages for that person here in the comments section too). If you're a regular at the bar, I'll get out your engraved martini glass while you make yourself comfortable. And anyone new, welcome. I'm glad you found this virtual bar.

For those who have no clue what I'm talking about when I say that the bar is open, click here to catch up and then jump into the conversation back on this current post.

So have an imaginary cocktail and tell us what is up with your life.

We're not even close to 200 post recommendations to match the number I've given you this year through the Friday Blog Roundup. We haven't even hit 100. There has to be fantastic things you've read in the past twelve months. Don't forget to leave your comments there on your favourite posts from this year and read the rest of the list.

I am the owner of three massage gift certificates. The first one I bought for Josh a few years ago as a birthday gift and he regifted it to me because he said I seemed more stressed. The second one I got as a gift this past May because I seemed stressed (are you sensing a theme?). The third one I was told was a birthday gift since the person doesn't know that I'm actually quite stressed.

I'm not really stressed.

But the point is that I tend to hold onto good things and not use them. I like events--like massages--in front of me, anticipating them rather than using them.

I'm bummed that BlogHer is happening this week and then will be over. I'm mourning the ending before it has even begun. That's how much fun it was last year. Granted, it is the only conference I have ever been to so I don't have a comparison. But in my opinion, BlogHer is the most fun conference ever. Ever.

I also waited impatiently all week for the mail because Io told me that she sent me a special package. It finally arrived on Friday. When I opened it, I was trembling like a vampire who was smelling some really delicious blood. Okay, I was trembling more like a teenage girl who had just spotted Robert Pattinson on the cover of a magazine. But look what she sent:


Can you believe that a few weeks ago, I was debating whether or not to read the books at all. And now look at me. Look at me! I'm a freak, drooling like a werewolf. And I'm taking them with me on the road this week. But then I think to myself: if you read them, you won't have that excited anticipation that comes when they're unread.

Do you see how deep this goes?

As always, it has been about a month since we met, bitched, cried, comforted, and caught up each other on our cycles and lives. Pull up a seat and I'll pour you a drink. Let everyone know what is happening in your life. The good, the bad, the ugly. My only request is that if a story catches your eye, you follow it back to the person's blog and start reading their posts. Give some love, give some support, or laugh with someone until your drink comes out of your nose.

I have a ton of assvice in my back pocket and as a virtual bartender, I will give it to you unless you specifically tell me that this is simply a vent and you do not want to receive anything more than a hug.

So if you have been a lurker for a while (or if this is your first open bar as someone who found this space through IComLeavWe), sit down and tell us about yourself. Remember to provide a link or a way for people to continue reading your story (or if you don't have a blog--gasp!--you can always leave an email address if you're looking for advice or support. If not, people can leave messages for that person here in the comments section too). If you're a regular at the bar, I'll get out your engraved martini glass while you make yourself comfortable. And anyone new, welcome. I'm glad you found this virtual bar.

For those who have no clue what I'm talking about when I say that the bar is open, click here to catch up and then jump into the conversation back on this current post.

So have an imaginary cocktail and tell us what is up with your life.

What is that pool of yellow you just stepped over to get to the bar? That? It's just a puddle of urine. I literally peed myself because I'm going to be speaking in the Community Keynote at BlogHer.

I'm not allowed to tell you what I submitted, but I'll give you a hint. It has to do with infertility, my wonky ovaries, or my clot-happy blood. Or maybe all three.

The urine is both from excitement (my cousins had a dog that you couldn't pet when you first entered the house because if you did, it would go crazy with excitement and pee on the carpet. I'm sort of like that dog) and nervousness. I am not the best public speaker. I have a tendency, like that dog, to pee on the carpet. I mean...get anxious in front of large crowds.

So if you're coming to BlogHer, you'll know why I'm wearing water-resistant dark slacks on Friday.

Actually, are you coming to BlogHer? I know Briar will be there because she is leading a panel. And I think Aurelia will be there and Alexa. Who else? Who am I missing? Can we all make a list of ALI bloggers so we know who will be there and make some sort of plan to meet up for lunch on the first day? If you will be there, leave a note in the comment section (whether you are a blog writer or a blog reader) or send me an email and I'll put a plan in place so we can all meet up (please include your blog url if you write one so I can link to it in the list). We were somewhat successful last summer and had a great dinner/dessert one night. This time, we'll plan it earlier and close to the hotel so a lot of people can plan to come.

Wait, back to the bar. Please make sure you sidestep the urine and let me know what you'll have.

As always, it has been about a month since we met, bitched, cried, comforted, and caught up each other on our cycles and lives. Pull up a seat and I'll pour you a drink. Let everyone know what is happening in your life. The good, the bad, the ugly. My only request is that if a story catches your eye, you follow it back to the person's blog and start reading their posts. Give some love, give some support, or laugh with someone until your drink comes out of your nose.

I have a ton of assvice in my back pocket and as a virtual bartender, I will give it to you unless you specifically tell me that this is simply a vent and you do not want to receive anything more than a hug.

So if you have been a lurker for a while (or if this is your first open bar as someone who found this space through IComLeavWe), sit down and tell us about yourself. Remember to provide a link or a way for people to continue reading your story (or if you don't have a blog--gasp!--you can always leave an email address if you're looking for advice or support. If not, people can leave messages for that person here in the comments section too). If you're a regular at the bar, I'll get out your engraved martini glass while you make yourself comfortable. And anyone new, welcome. I'm glad you found this virtual bar.

For those who have no clue what I'm talking about when I say that the bar is open, click here to catch up and then jump into the conversation back on this current post.

So have an imaginary cocktail and tell us what is up with your life.

Do you need a drink? I need a drink right now, and not in the alcohol-relaxes-you sort of way. It's not that I haven't looked longingly at the bottle of vodka in the freezer when I'm opening the door to make dinner. But I mean it in a community-coming-together sort of way. The point of this Lushary in the first place.

Because remember back why we started it over two years ago? Almost two and half years ago by this point? That is a lot of imaginary alcohol.

"But the other side is what this blog has become for me--a cozy space where everyone is welcome (as long as they're not making anyone else feel like crap--it's okay to disagree; it's not okay to be cruel). Where you can sit down after a crappy day and just cry. Where you can come running in and shout out good news ("no OHSS!") and everyone will cheer along with you. Where you can ask your questions or give your opinion or admit to your fears or examine how you really feel about infertility. In other words, the freakin' infertile Cheers of the Blogosphere."

And so, I have opened the door a bit early this month so everyone can pull up a chair and take a deep breath and collect themselves and tell each other what has happened in our lives in the last few weeks. I, personally, have gone down to the river to think--it is where I think best and feel grounded.

So let's pretend that the Lushary has an outdoor section, a small patio, and instead of being cramped inside, I am standing out here, by the river, still thinking, and pouring drinks. I apologize if you've sent me an email in the last few days and haven't gotten a response. Hopefully, you won't mind if I type back a few emails and work the shaker at the same time today.

What will you have?

As always, it has been a little under a month since we met, bitched, cried, comforted, and caught up each other on our cycles and lives. Pull up a seat and I'll pour you a drink. Let everyone know what is happening in your life and a compliment for another blogger. The good, the bad, the ugly. My only request is that if a story catches your eye, you follow it back to the person's blog and start reading their posts. Give some love, give some support, or laugh with someone until your drink comes out of your nose.

I have a ton of assvice in my back pocket and as a virtual bartender, I will give it to you unless you specifically tell me that this is simply a vent and you do not want to receive anything more than a hug.

So if you have been a lurker for a while (or if this is your first open bar as someone who found this space through IComLeavWe), sit down and tell us about yourself. Remember to provide a link or a way for people to continue reading your story (or if you don't have a blog--gasp!--you can always leave an email address if you're looking for advice or support. If not, people can leave messages for that person here in the comments section too). If you're a regular at the bar, I'll get out your engraved martini glass while you make yourself comfortable. And anyone new, welcome. I'm glad you found this virtual bar.

For those who have no clue what I'm talking about when I say that the bar is open, click here to catch up and then jump into the conversation back on this current post.

So have an imaginary cocktail and tell us what is up with your life.

I'd like to raise a glass to NIAW--National Infertility Awareness Week--here in the United States (and I'd like to apologize for not knowing if other countries are holding their awareness week during the same week). It's not that this week didn't exist prior to this point, but this year, they moved it to the spring, and frankly, it was a good choice.

Not that I don't like my emotional support and activism sandwiched in between the start of school and Halloween, but it tastes a lot better right before Mother's Day.

NIAW starts this Saturday (the 25th) and runs to the next Saturday (the 2nd), though there are also unrelated yet in-the-same-vein activities happening on the Web or in the face-to-face world up until May 10th.

The biggest events are being sponsored by Resolve--both national Resolve and the local chapters. It all begins with Resolve's list of seven things you can do in seven days. They also are holding events across the country through local Resolve groups.

Focusing on the seventh item on the list, there is plenty you can do without leaving your living room to find support. If you haven't started a blog, start one. Rachel wrote a rockin' article about starting your own infertility-related blog. And then tell me about it so I can place it on the blogroll. Or, on that note, start reading a new blog this week. Join the forums and start a new thread asking for advice/support or set up an account on the Resolve bulletin boards or IVF Connections. If you're on BlogHer, join the new infertility group. If you need support near Mother's Day, join Liv who created OMG! Because You Rock Day.

So I'm raising a toast to NIAW--and doing what I can to spread word about my wonky ovaries in my tiny corner of America.

As always, it has been a little over a month since we met, bitched, cried, comforted, and caught up each other on our cycles and lives. Pull up a seat and I'll pour you a drink. Let everyone know what is happening in your life and a compliment for another blogger. The good, the bad, the ugly. My only request is that if a story catches your eye, you follow it back to the person's blog and start reading their posts. Give some love, give some support, or laugh with someone until your drink comes out of your nose.

I have a ton of assvice in my back pocket and as a virtual bartender, I will give it to you unless you specifically tell me that this is simply a vent and you do not want to receive anything more than a hug.

So if you have been a lurker for a while (or if this is your first open bar as someone who found this space through IComLeavWe), sit down and tell us about yourself. Remember to provide a link or a way for people to continue reading your story (or if you don't have a blog--gasp!--you can always leave an email address if you're looking for advice or support. If not, people can leave messages for that person here in the comments section too). If you're a regular at the bar, I'll get out your engraved martini glass while you make yourself comfortable. And anyone new, welcome. I'm glad you found this virtual bar.

For those who have no clue what I'm talking about when I say that the bar is open, click here to catch up and then jump into the conversation back on this current post.

So have an imaginary cocktail and tell us what is up with your life.

I didn't time this Virtual Lushary to coincide with St. Patrick's Day (which is generally celebrated in America with a lot of green beer) but since we're here, can we turn to one of my favourite Irish traditions? The wake.

Apologies; I know that was sort of a buzz kill.

It's not that Jewish funerals are so different--we use Shiva to reminiscence about the person. But today is St. Patrick's Day--not Pesach--so we're going to go with the Irish tradition of toasting the person after their death, remembering every good point about them.

I hate the idea of people saving their best words for when the person can't hear them.

I know it is helpful for the mourners--after all, funerals are for those left behind, not those already dead. But I read something this week that really struck me. I was reading about the Hudson River plane crash in People (and I swear that I read more magazines than just People; it's just that I find so much to quote in there) and it said, "she's heard from friends who have been out of touch for 20 years. 'It's as if I went to my own funeral and didn't have to die to go,' she said. 'There's been such an outpouring of love'."

No one should have to die to go to their own funeral. I can't tell you how good it feels when someone writes a kind comment or simply tells me how LFCA has positively affected their day. You carry those words with you all day.

Therefore, I propose today, in addition to catching up everyone on your life, you take a moment to write something kind about another blogger. Why another blogger? Because they're most likely to read it here vs. your Great Aunt Mildred who probably isn't skulking around on blogs. And the point is to make sure that they know your words. I don't want to call this a massive funeral for the non-dead because that just feels...wrong. But I think you all understand the sentiment.

Let the world know--very publicly--how much you appreciate the other person. Because that is part of the wake too--that the words are spoken in front of others. Please link to the other blogger in your comment or give the title of the blog so people can find them via the blogroll. And to make this clear, let's all start with our compliment and then finish the comment with our own news. You may leave as many compliments to others as you wish. The more, obviously, the merrier.

Because isn't there some saying that on St. Patrick's Day, we're all Irish?

As always, it has been about a month since we met, bitched, cried, comforted, and caught up each other on our cycles and lives. Pull up a seat and I'll pour you a drink. Let everyone know what is happening in your life and a compliment for another blogger. The good, the bad, the ugly. My only request is that if a story catches your eye, you follow it back to the person's blog and start reading their posts. Give some love, give some support, or laugh with someone until your drink comes out of your nose.

I have a ton of assvice in my back pocket and as a virtual bartender, I will give it to you unless you specifically tell me that this is simply a vent and you do not want to receive anything more than a hug.

So if you have been a lurker for a while (or if this is your first open bar as someone who found this space through IComLeavWe), sit down and tell us about yourself. Remember to provide a link or a way for people to continue reading your story (or if you don't have a blog--gasp!--you can always leave an email address if you're looking for advice or support. If not, people can leave messages for that person here in the comments section too). If you're a regular at the bar, I'll get out your engraved martini glass while you make yourself comfortable. And anyone new, welcome. I'm glad you found this virtual bar.

For those who have no clue what I'm talking about when I say that the bar is open, click here to catch up and then jump into the conversation back on this current post.

So have an imaginary cocktail and tell us what is up with your life.

This thought occurred to me when we were driving home from Berkeley Springs this weekend:

Can you get maple syrup outside North America?

In other words, do other countries beyond the US and Canada have sugar maple trees and produce maple syrup or is it always an import or is it not imported at all? Do you have real maple syrup, or do you only have pancake syrup made with sugar or corn syrup?

It literally occurred to me that I've never noticed it when traveling because I've never eaten anything that would necessitate using maple syrup while traveling.

And what about root beer?

I asked this a year or two ago and received only a few answers so I'll try again. A camp counselor once told me that if you haven't had root beer by a certain age, it is a taste that you can never enjoy. Why? I'm not entirely what the scientific process is behind this possible-fact. But it was his explanation for why non-Americans rarely like root beer--because it is a drink pretty much only found in the US and therefore, most non-Americans do not encounter it until they are beyond the magical age line. Is this true?

There actually is a point in wondering what you can't get outside the US.

What products have you wondered about in terms of foods you associate with your own country? I'll tell you if we can find it here.

As always, it has been about a month since we met, bitched, cried, comforted, and caught up each other on our cycles and lives. Pull up a seat and I'll pour you a drink. Let everyone know what is happening in your life. The good, the bad, the ugly. My only request is that if a story catches your eye, you follow it back to the person's blog and start reading their posts. Give some love, give some support, or laugh with someone until your drink comes out of your nose.

I have a ton of assvice in my back pocket and as a virtual bartender, I will give it to you unless you specifically tell me that this is simply a vent and you do not want to receive anything more than a hug.

So if you have been a lurker for a while (or if this is your first open bar as someone who found this space through IComLeavWe), sit down and tell us about yourself. Remember to provide a link or a way for people to continue reading your story (or if you don't have a blog--gasp!--you can always leave an email address if you're looking for advice or support. If not, people can leave messages for that person here in the comments section too). If you're a regular at the bar, I'll get out your engraved martini glass while you make yourself comfortable. And anyone new, welcome. I'm glad you found this virtual bar.

For those who have no clue what I'm talking about when I say that the bar is open, click here to catch up and then jump into the conversation back on this current post.

So have an imaginary cocktail and tell us what is up with your life.

Actually, wait, before we begin, you voted for Stirrup Queens in the Weblog Awards, right? You haven't? Go over and vote and then come back. It's two clicks.

The second week of January is traditionally National Delurking Week, which I took to be this week. Then, last week, I saw people asking for everyone to delurk. And on Sunday, I saw people saying that the delurking has just begun. So a brawl broke out, punches were thrown, eyes were blackened. And look where we are now.

The cusp between the two possible weeks?

In order to be the perfect middle child and appeal to those in the January 4--10 camp and those in the January 11--17 camp, I am placing my delurking request on January 12. At the mouth of the second week and somewhat at the ass of the first.

See, middle child.

Delurking Week is a time for people to come out and admit that they're reading and not commenting on someone's blog. It's a little wave from the ether and then you can go back to your other 51 weeks a year of reading silently. Personally, I think it's a good idea to sign in as yourself and leave a normal comment so I can go over to your blog and find it and begin reading. But if you are nervous about having readers (I'm not even going to ask you the question: why are you writing?), you can use the anonymous function, tell us a bit about yourself, and sign your first name at the end of the comment.

I've combined this delurking request with our normal bar so the delurking will mingle with the general updates and everyone shy can hide behind their imaginary drink.

It is also the two year anniversary of the Virtual Lushary. We first kicked open the doors on January 17, 2007 and we've been serving imaginary drinks once a month since. Isn't that amazing? I still stand by what I said last year about community on the first anniversary.

I wrote this last year, but I think the game is still interesting: If you commented at the first Lushary, I'd like you to click here and read what you had to say two years ago this week. And then click here and read what you had to say a year ago. And then, as you update the group below on your current situation, add what was happening this time last year (or two years ago) and how life is the same or different. If you joined along at a later bar session, the same idea holds. You can scan old sessions here and then state when you found the bar and what has changed since.

And now the words that I've been saying for two years:

It has been about a month since we met, bitched, cried, comforted, and caught up each other on our cycles and lives. Pull up a seat and I'll pour you a drink. Let everyone know what is happening in your life. The good, the bad, the ugly. My only request is that if a story catches your eye, you follow it back to the person's blog and start reading their posts. Give some love, give some support, or laugh with someone until your drink comes out of your nose.

I have a ton of assvice in my back pocket and as a virtual bartender, I will give it to you unless you specifically tell me that this is simply a vent and you do not want to receive anything more than a hug.

So if you have been a lurker for a while (or if this is your first open bar as someone who found this space through IComLeavWe), sit down and tell us about yourself. Remember to provide a link or a way for people to continue reading your story (or if you don't have a blog--gasp!--you can always leave an email address if you're looking for advice or support. If not, people can leave messages for that person here in the comments section too). If you're a regular at the bar, I'll get out your engraved martini glass while you make yourself comfortable. And anyone new, welcome. I'm glad you found this virtual bar.

For those who have no clue what I'm talking about when I say that the bar is open, click here to catch up and then jump into the conversation back on this current post.

So have an imaginary cocktail and tell us what is up with your life.

Happy anniversary to the little Lushary and happy Delurking Week.

I thought it would be a good idea to open the Virtual Lushary this week before everyone heads into the holidays. For some people, next week will be extraordinarily painful. For others, it will be relief after a long period of wanting. And for Jews, it will be a to bitch about how nothing is open. Merry Christmas!

I have posted a most obnoxious amount of photos from our DC get together so I will understand completely if you need to scroll quickly to the comment section and place your drink order. But below is many (though not all--only 14 of us) of TOOTPU.

What is TOOTPU? It is the Order of the Plastic Uterus so named because of this little sweetie:

We kick more ass than Harry Potter and could take down Voldemort with a single blog post. We convened at Leah's house who is the procurer of said uterus (oh, it is a story worth hearing and perhaps, if you ply her with many a drink, it will come spilling out). We ate a lot of cookies and cried and teased each other and fuck, it was really hard to go home. I knew Josh needed to leave for work, but how many times do you get to hang out face-to-face with all these incredible women all in one moment? We get together once a month as a group, but it's always magical when so many people attend all at once.









A sidenote on the post's title: for some reason, I thought the drink we had at Leah's was called ruby slippers and not ruby sippers and I really like it better that way. Everyone could use a pair of red shoes to click together under the table when they're chanting to themselves, "there's no place like home." So, if you are sad or frustrated this holiday, pour your heart out below. And if you are joyous, pour your heart out below. And know that you have a world of people who have your back even when you're far away from the screen.

It has been about a month since we met, bitched, cried, comforted, and caught up each other on our cycles and lives. Pull up a seat and I'll pour you a drink. Let everyone know what is happening in your life. The good, the bad, the ugly. My only request is that if a story catches your eye, you follow it back to the person's blog and start reading their posts. Give some love, give some support, or laugh with someone until your drink comes out of your nose.

I have a ton of assvice in my back pocket and as a virtual bartender, I will give it to you unless you specifically tell me that this is simply a vent and you do not want to receive anything more than a hug.

So if you have been a lurker for a while (or if this is your first open bar as someone who found this space through IComLeavWe), sit down and tell us about yourself. Remember to provide a link or a way for people to continue reading your story (or if you don't have a blog--gasp!--you can always leave an email address if you're looking for advice or support. If not, people can leave messages for that person here in the comments section too). If you're a regular at the bar, I'll get out your engraved martini glass while you make yourself comfortable. And anyone new, welcome. I'm glad you found this virtual bar.

For those who have no clue what I'm talking about when I say that the bar is open, click here to catch up and then jump into the conversation back on this current post.

So have an imaginary cocktail and tell us what is up with your life.

Do you need a drink?

I really need a drink.

It's interesting--I am usually quite a messy person emotionally. I need to deal with things NOW. I need to talk about things NOW and know the answer NOW. I sort of disregard setting, time, and situation just to deal with things that are affecting me emotionally in the moment.

And this has been a very male moment for me. A sort of compartmentalization. When we woke up this morning, Josh wanted to talk about it more and I just felt sort of settled about the whole thing. Like it is a box currently on the table and I've not only decided not to open it for the moment, but I've also stacked a few magazines over it and yesterday's mail and it is quite obvious that I'm simply not dealing with it right now.

Maybe because I know the box is empty? What is the point in opening it?

I guess it is like this: when I was leaving Massachusetts, I overpacked the car and started back towards Maryland. I decided to stop off in Northampton even though it wasn't really on my way to grab a cup of juice at the Haymarket. It had been a really happy space for me in this really unhappy place and it was like grabbing an old sweater out of the donation box to try it on one last time before Goodwill came to pick up your clothes.

When I got into the Hay, the person who was the reason I was completing the rest of my graduate degree from Maryland instead of staying in Massachusetts was sitting in my coffee house. He saw me and I saw him and he gave me this completely self-satisfied look that made me want to (1) kick the pretentious book he was reading out of his hands and then (2) kick him in the face and then (3) as he held his face, knee him in the balls.

Or scratch all of his skin off. Either/or.

It was my choice to leave Massachusetts and it was my decision how I was choosing to react to him or see that moment. But by fuck--you have got to be kidding me--I couldn't believe he was going to be the last person I saw as I left town. I grabbed my orange juice and went back to my car and sat in it crying for a bit. I was kicking myself for stopping for the drink because if I had kept driving past Northampton, the last person I would have seen would have been my roommate. I kept waiting for someone to walk by that I knew so I could count them as the last person I saw leaving the state. Finally, I had to leave--I could not spend my whole day waiting in my overpacked car (and, knowing my luck, I would finally see someone and then he would walk out of the Haymarket ruining it yet again!).

As I pulled away, I finally saw someone I somewhat knew. She was this woman who worked in a candy shop. She was divorced and gave us relationship advice when we'd stop in to get candy before going to the Academy to see a movie. I really loved talking to her because she was very bitter and sometimes, you need to spend time with someone who is harsh and holds you to reality instead of allowing you to float away. I decided to count her as the last person I saw and I felt like I could finally leave Massachusetts in peace.

Had anything really changed in seeing her? Of course not. I was still leaving and everything that came before that point still remained. But I will always be eternally grateful for seeing the candy shop woman walking down the street as I left town. It simply flipped a switch in me and allowed me to see the door firmly shut instead of visualizing his boot-clad foot wedging open the door.

That is the best way I can describe last night. It was like seeing the candy shop woman.

I really do need a drink.

It has been a little under a month since we met, bitched, cried, comforted, and caught up each other on our cycles and lives. Pull up a seat and I'll pour you a drink. Let everyone know what is happening in your life. The good, the bad, the ugly. My only request is that if a story catches your eye, you follow it back to the person's blog and start reading their posts. Give some love, give some support, or laugh with someone until your drink comes out of your nose.

I have a ton of assvice in my back pocket and as a virtual bartender, I will give it to you unless you specifically tell me that this is simply a vent and you do not want to receive anything more than a hug.

So if you have been a lurker for a while (or if this is your first open bar as someone who found this space through IComLeavWe), sit down and tell us about yourself. Remember to provide a link or a way for people to continue reading your story (or if you don't have a blog--gasp!--you can always leave an email address if you're looking for advice or support. If not, people can leave messages for that person here in the comments section too). If you're a regular at the bar, I'll get out your engraved martini glass while you make yourself comfortable. And anyone new, welcome. I'm glad you found this virtual bar.

For those who have no clue what I'm talking about when I say that the bar is open, click here to catch up and then jump into the conversation back on this current post.

So have an imaginary cocktail and tell us what is up with your life.

A Halloween Play

Random person banging on the Lushary door: Trick or treat!

Melissa, the bartender: Trick.

Random person: What?

Melissa, the bartender: I choose trick.

Random person (okay, so random person isn't working for you. You need someone concrete. Pretend it's Barren is the New Black knocking): But I thought you were going to give me candy. Or something. Or alcohol. This is an imaginary bar, right?

Melissa, the bartender: But you offered me a choice and I choose trick.

Barren is the New Black: Fuck (I think she would say "fuck"--she seems really ladylike, but I think under that ladylike, shoe-coveting exterior is a girl who would say "fuck"), I don't really have a trick.

Melissa, the bartender: Oh--I'll just open it up to the blogosphere. Maybe someone can suggest one to you.

So, in addition to drowning your sorrows or toasting your good news with a virtual drink, also provide the best trick you've ever done--on Halloween or at another time. Mine will be in the comment section below.

It has been a little over a month since we met, bitched, cried, comforted, and caught up each other on our cycles and lives. Pull up a seat and I'll pour you a drink. Let everyone know what is happening in your life. The good, the bad, the ugly. My only request is that if a story catches your eye, you follow it back to the person's blog and start reading their posts. Give some love, give some support, or laugh with someone until your drink comes out of your nose.

I have a ton of assvice in my back pocket and as a virtual bartender, I will give it to you unless you specifically tell me that this is simply a vent and you do not want to receive anything more than a hug.

So if you have been a lurker for a while (or if this is your first open bar as someone who found this space through IComLeavWe), sit down and tell us about yourself. Remember to provide a link or a way for people to continue reading your story (or if you don't have a blog--gasp!--you can always leave an email address if you're looking for advice or support. If not, people can leave messages for that person here in the comments section too). If you're a regular at the bar, I'll get out your engraved martini glass while you make yourself comfortable. And anyone new, welcome. I'm glad you found this virtual bar.

For those who have no clue what I'm talking about when I say that the bar is open, click here to catch up and then jump into the conversation back on this current post.

So have an imaginary cocktail and tell us what is up with your life.

Oh, and just because I've opened the Lushary doesn't mean that class is over: come by and show everyone your item at this week's Show and Tell.

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who always seemed to have jury duty. The letter would arrive in the mail and she would exclaim, "jury duty again?" and try to remember if two years had elapsed between her last summons and the current one. She was so unlucky in jury duty that she once received a summons to appear on a month-long grand jury, but she begged and pleaded her way out of that one (and is well aware that there are people out there who would love to be chosen for a grand jury, but our heroine is not one of them).

She realized that admitting how much she despised receiving jury duty made her sound like a "bad citizen" and "un-American." But she explained to all that she grew up in Washington, D.C. where she had a healthy dose of government shoved down her throat every which way she turned so she didn't feel too badly if she was scared about hearing the details of a murder trial.

This little girl was praying that when she called the summons line to see if her juror number was called, she would receive a message telling her that she was dismissed for two years. While she waited to make the phone call, she invented a fine, alcoholic drink which she named the Jury Duty.

So...vote now...will I or will I not be chosen for jury duty when I call the service line?

It has been a little under a month since we met, bitched, cried, comforted, and caught up each other on our cycles and lives. Pull up a seat and I'll pour you a drink. Let everyone know what is happening in your life. The good, the bad, the ugly. My only request is that if a story catches your eye, you follow it back to the person's blog and start reading their posts. Give some love, give some support, or laugh with someone until your drink comes out of your nose.

I have a ton of assvice in my back pocket and as a virtual bartender, I will give it to you unless you specifically tell me that this is simply a vent and you do not want to receive anything more than a hug.

So if you have been a lurker for a while (or if this is your first open bar as someone who found this space through IComLeavWe), sit down and tell us about yourself. Remember to provide a link or a way for people to continue reading your story (or if you don't have a blog--gasp!--you can always leave an email address if you're looking for advice or support. If not, people can leave messages for that person here in the comments section too). If you're a regular at the bar, I'll get out your engraved martini glass while you make yourself comfortable. And anyone new, welcome. I'm glad you found this virtual bar.

For those who have no clue what I'm talking about when I say that the bar is open, click here to catch up and then jump into the conversation back on this current post.

So have an imaginary cocktail and tell us what is up with your life.

I usually like to post the Virtual Lushary at least a day or two before a scheduled-like post (like the Friday Blog Roundup which always goes up on...Fridays) so we can kibitz over our schnapps and have a nosh. And then I get all verklempt when you tell me something sad or I shep nachas when you tell me something happy. I know, I know, you need a lushary post like a lokh in kop right now. But, feh, what can I do? It goes up once a month. So, nu--no Barren Advice this week.

Plus, we're smack in the middle of commenting for the August IComLeavWe. Here is your chance to knock out on of your comments of the day.

As your friendly bartender, I'm wearing the knee-high boots, so you can probably guess what I have on under the jeans and t-shirt... Actually, y'all saw the knee-high boots (yes, Hilde's knee-high boots!) at BlogHer. I played Nintendo Wii in them. The merry widow? That hasn't been on again since that first IUI.

It has been about a month since we met, bitched, cried, comforted, and caught up each other on our cycles and lives. Pull up a seat and I'll pour you a drink. Let everyone know what is happening in your life. The good, the bad, the ugly. My only request is that if a story catches your eye, you follow it back to the person's blog and start reading their posts. Give some love, give some support, or laugh with someone until your drink comes out of your nose.

I have a ton of assvice in my back pocket and as a virtual bartender, I will give it to you unless you specifically tell me that this is simply a vent and you do not want to receive anything more than a hug.

So if you have been a lurker for a while (or if this is your first open bar as someone who found this space through IComLeavWe), sit down and tell us about yourself. Remember to provide a link or a way for people to continue reading your story (or if you don't have a blog--gasp!--you can always leave an email address if you're looking for advice or support. If not, people can leave messages for that person here in the comments section too). If you're a regular at the bar, I'll get out your engraved martini glass while you make yourself comfortable. And anyone new, welcome. I'm glad you found this virtual bar.

For those who have no clue what I'm talking about when I say that the bar is open, click here to catch up and then jump into the conversation back on this current post.

So have an imaginary cocktail and a knish or two and tell us what is up with your life.

In honour of the roadie and my crack-of-dawn flight on Thursday, I am sending out a round of invisible mimosas--on the house, of course. I know I traditionally post Barren Advice on Tuesdays and I'll certainly be back next week with an answer or two, but right now, I just feel like I need a drink. And perhaps you need an imaginary drink too. So we can drink together.

Though, perhapsie (that's one of my new favourite words: perhapsie) instead of a mimosa, I should have something with cranberry. Because...er...well, I probably don't need to spell out what my medical woe of the week is right now. But let's just say that Karen and Lindsay got a very uncomfortable and cranky Melissa at lunch.

Was that more information than you wanted to know?

Cranberry martinis or a mimosa--it's your choice. But can we all just take a minute to sit down and catch each other up and...pretend to drink?

It has been about a month since we met, bitched, cried, comforted, and caught up each other on our cycles and lives. Pull up a seat and I'll pour you a drink. Let everyone know what is happening in your life. The good, the bad, the ugly. My only request is that if a story catches your eye, you follow it back to the person's blog and start reading their posts. Give some love, give some support, or laugh with someone until your drink comes out of your nose.

I have a ton of assvice in my back pocket and as a virtual bartender, I will give it to you unless you specifically tell me that this is simply a vent and you do not want to receive anything more than a hug.

So if you have been a lurker for a while (or if this is your first open bar as someone who found this space through IComLeavWe...which, by the way, begins on the 21st!), sit down and tell us about yourself. Remember to provide a link or a way for people to continue reading your story (or if you don't have a blog--gasp!--you can always leave an email address if you're looking for advice or support. If not, people can leave messages for that person here in the comments section too). If you're a regular at the bar, I'll get out your engraved martini glass while you make yourself comfortable. And anyone new, welcome. I'm glad you found this virtual bar.

For those who have no clue what I'm talking about when I say that the bar is open, click here to catch up and then jump into the conversation back on this current post.

So have a cocktail and tell us what is up with your life. When I have to leave for BlogHer, I'll just leave the bar open. I trust you guys to pour carefully and clean up when you're done. And not throw up too much in the bathroom.

What says "award ceremony" more than flavoured vodka? And what livens up a voting session more than a little invisible cocktail? It is time to vote for your favourites for the first ALIes (adoption/loss/infertility awards). And it's time to pull up a bar seat and let us know what has been happening in your life in between sips of a non-existent French martini. Before you cast your ballot, stick around and fill everyone in on your life. Winners will be announced two days from now on the Friday Blog Roundup. Which means that three days from now, the tabloid newspapers will be writing about your escapades with the B-list celebrities. You know, the ones we're keeping under the bar.

So before you get sucked away from the site into voting...

As always, it has been a bit more than a month since we met, bitched, cried, comforted, and caught up each other on our cycles and lives. Pull up a seat and I'll pour you a drink. Let everyone know what is happening in your life. The good, the bad, the ugly. My only request is that if a story catches your eye, you follow it back to the person's blog and start reading their posts. Give some love, give some support, or laugh with someone until your drink comes out of your nose.

I have a ton of assvice in my back pocket and as a virtual bartender, I will give it to you unless you specifically tell me that this is simply a vent and you do not want to receive anything more than a hug.

So if you have been a lurker for a while (or if this is your first open bar as someone who found this space through NaComLeavMo...which is now called IComLeavWe...), sit down and tell us about yourself. Remember to provide a link or a way for people to continue reading your story (or if you don't have a blog--gasp!--you can always leave an email address if you're looking for advice or support. If not, people can leave messages for that person here in the comments section too). If you're a regular at the bar, I'll get out your engraved martini glass while you make yourself comfortable. And anyone new, welcome. I'm glad you found this virtual bar.

For those who have no clue what I'm talking about when I say that the bar is open, click here to catch up and then jump into the conversation back on this current post.

So have a cocktail and tell us what is up with your life and then come back up to the body of this post and scroll back to this space. Go ahead, let us know what's up. Voting will wait for you.


Without further ado, the voting.

Polldaddy only allowed me to have 10 questions in a poll. Therefore, I have added the final question on the ballot below. Vote for the Celebrity of the Year:

Grey is the new black.

Stripes are the new dots.

Gin is the new wine.

Wait, bourbon is the new wine.

No, I was right the first time, gin is the new wine.

Comments are the new hug.

2350 is the new goal.

Tomorrow is A New Day and Manda had the good sense to kick open the doors to the Lushary. I thought everyone could gather here for a drink before they went over to Our Own Creation and Sweet Zoë to knock those old dates off the dashboard wall. And, for Manda, who has been over here polishing the glasses since the weekend, a strawberry drink in honour of her festival. I have pried myself away from Facebook long enough to make it.

For those who have no clue what I'm talking about since I posted about Allison's situation right before Memorial Day weekend, please click here and read about A New Day because we really need your help tomorrow. Well...starting tonight. Starting at midnight GMT and running through the entire 29th of May. 24 hours of clicking your heart out at her blog. She will have a start post up when the time starts and then put up an end post when the 24 hour period is over. Just so you know if you're clicking at the right time.

We haven't yet opened the doors to the bar this month and it seemed like a perfect time to do so. As always, it has been a bit more than a month since we met, bitched, cried, comforted, and caught up each other on our cycles and lives. Pull up a seat and I'll pour you a drink. Let everyone know what is happening in your life. The good, the bad, the ugly. My only request is that if a story catches your eye, you follow it back to the person's blog and start reading their posts. Give some love, give some support, or laugh with someone until your drink comes out of your nose.

I have a ton of assvice in my back pocket and as a virtual bartender, I will give it to you unless you specifically tell me that this is simply a vent and you do not want to receive anything more than a hug.

So if you have been a lurker for a while (or if this is your first open bar as someone who found this space through NaComLeavMo), sit down and tell us about yourself. Remember to provide a link or a way for people to continue reading your story (or if you don't have a blog--gasp!--you can always leave an email address if you're looking for advice or support. If not, people can leave messages for that person here in the comments section too). If you're a regular at the bar, I'll get out your engraved martini glass while you make yourself comfortable. And anyone new, welcome. I'm glad you found this virtual bar.

For those who have no clue what I'm talking about when I say that the bar is open, click here to catch up and then jump into the conversation back on this current post.

So have a strawberry cocktail and tell us what is up with your life and then go over and help out Allison.

A few sips into the Manischewitz at the seder and I suddenly remembered my beloved Lushary. Do you ever jump mentally to your blog when you're in an uncomfortable space? You're having a conversation with someone about their pregnancy, but mentally you're tracing the borders of your blog's banner? You're talking to them about how you should just have a drink and relax so it "can happen" but your mind is really running through the list of blogs in your Google Reader?

Do you remember that scene in The Phantom Tollbooth where Milo, Tock and the Humbug all end up sailing out of their car and landing on the Island of Conclusions with Canby? That's sort of how I imagine myself when I am ensconced in an uncomfortable conversation. I just picture my body sailing out of the room and landing firmly between two Microsoft Paint icons.

Is this unhealthy or healthy having a mental space to retreat? It sounds like something you would learn as part of a visualization technique and yet it's not really on par with the whole waves-lapping-on-the-sand-happy-place we're always led towards.

We haven't yet opened the doors to the bar this month and it seemed like a perfect time to do so. As always, it has been a bit more than a month since we met, bitched, cried, comforted, and caught up each other on our cycles and lives. Pull up a seat and I'll pour you a drink. Let everyone know what is happening in your life. The good, the bad, the ugly. My only request is that if a story catches your eye, you follow it back to the person's blog and start reading their posts. Give some love, give some support, or laugh with someone until your drink comes out of your nose.

I have a ton of assvice in my back pocket and as a virtual bartender, I will give it to you unless you specifically tell me that this is simply a vent and you do not want to receive anything more than a hug.

So if you have been a lurker for a while, sit down and tell us about yourself. Remember to provide a link or a way for people to continue reading your story (or if you don't have a blog--gasp!--you can always leave an email address if you're looking for advice or support. If not, people can leave messages for that person here in the comments section too). If you're a regular at the bar, I'll get out your engraved martini glass while you make yourself comfortable. And anyone new, welcome. I'm glad you found this virtual bar.

For those who have no clue what I'm talking about when I say that the bar is open, click here to catch up and then jump into the conversation back on this current post.

You may have tied on four glasses of wine at your Pesach seder, but how many imaginary drinks can you down at the Virtual Lushary?