Monthly Archives: March 2010

It’s been eleven months…

I’ve always been temporally challenged.  Yes, that’s right, time means nothing to me.  I have a collection of 20 Swatches because I think time is such a unique object.

When I sit at my computer, time flies by.  It waves as it goes by, marking it’s existence on the little bitty digital clock in the corner of my screen.  Otherwise, time truly means nothing to me.

That’s why today I’m having a unique experience.  I noticed as I was cleaning up around the apartment that it has been eleven months since my ex has lived here.  Looking at the apartment, you can tell the difference in a heartbeat.  The bedroom is different, my office is different, the living room is different, everything has changed so much since I have been putting my life back together after that train wreck of an ex had the door hit him in the ass on the way out.

Today, I finally, after all these months, got rid of the last notion of my ex in my apartment.  The guest bathroom.  Before it was decorated in celestial, that’s right, sun, moon and stars, and I replaced it all with flowers.  The celestial was all dark blue and yellow (the ex’s favorite color combination) and I replaced it with pinks, purples, white, and pastel yellow.  After I took his shower curtain down and replaced it with mine, hung up the decorative towels and replaced the floor mat, it took just a moment of me admiring my work to feel the weight of his presence being lifted off my shoulders.  I have to say it was a rush, and it felt good. 

I had to start his car the other day.  Ok, go ahead, ask.  “Sheri, why are you starting his car if he lives in Kentucky with the bassett hound faced bitch?”  Because, genius left his car here because he had to drive the rental truck with all of his and her shit in it while she drove her car behind him.  So, he’s basically dropped all of his responsibilities in my lap.  I have to make sure the car is started and that it moves on occasion.  Here’s where it gets sticky.

I’m all about how people infuse their energy into objects they regularly come in contact with.  You know what I’m talking about.  It’s when you walk into someone’s home and you know it’s theirs because you can feel their presence or personality in every object.  Well, I got into the ex’s car the other day to start it and I could feel a rush of negative energy rush out as I opened the door.  It made me shudder.  I sat in the driver’s seat and saw all of the dog hair from that bitches chihuahua’s all over the place and all of the lies and bullshit he put me through just came rushing back.  I sat there coated in that bastard’s energy, nauseous and completely aghast on what my internal radar was picking up.  I realized at that moment that he intentionally did what he did to me.  He had no second thoughts, no remorse, no nothing.  He did the things he did specifically to hurt me because he felt intimidated and completely lacking next to me.  I did nothing to deserve what he did.  He did it out of spite, greed and inadequacy.   Sad, pathetic man if you ask me.  He lived every moment to make me feel lesser about myself, to put me down and to hurt me.  That was his trip.  He did it to his first wife, he did it to me and if that bassett hound faced bitch thinks she’s any different, I’ve got news for her.

But…here we are at month number eleven.  The last bastions of that bastard has left the building…

Long live the Sher.

Shopping for a birthday present….

I’ve been on the phone with my sister today.  Twice.  She suddenly had to go because she was getting sick from her Chemo.

The one thing I’ve feared my whole life has come to pass.  My sister has lost all of her hair.  She was telling me how painful it was to keep it because the chemo has killed her hair follicles, so for her to keep it was a bad idea, so she went and had it all shaved off.  What she was left with was the stubble from the clippers and it was annoying her, so my mother suggested she go over her head with a sticky lint roller.  Well, as you can guess, it worked.  She’s got not a single hair left, even her eyebrows have decided to leave the scene.

So, in about 7 hours, I’ll be picking up my sister for an afternoon with her and my mother.  I need to get out.  Linda even said so, I agreed.  I told her “I’d love to go out on a date” but the problem is, I don’t know anyone and I don’t really have any friends so to speak, so it’s one of those things…I need to get out and a movie with my mom and sister seems to fit the bill just fine right now.

Linda’s birthday is coming up on the 15th.  I’ve been trying my hardest to figure out what I’m going to give her.  I asked her what she wanted, and well, she isn’t feeling too hot, so she said that she’d much rather take a bye on this one and let it go by.  I disagree.  It’s times like this where you celebrate life the most, right?

I gave her birthday present a lot of thought.  From silk scarves for her head to baseball caps with custom designs, to spa candles, cd’s, you name it, I’ve thought of it.  Then, as I was sitting and playing WoW with my pals KP and Andrew, it hit me. 

I was sitting, smoking my cigarette and looked at the smoldering cancer stick in my fingers and said…hey…I wanna quit smoking, right?  Well, what better gift to give my sister than me quitting smoking?  Yeah, I’ll be a bitch from hell for a while, but at the end of the day, I’ll be healthier, I’ll save money and my apartment will smell better.  There’s a laundry list of reasons to quit smoking.  And well, what better gift to give my sister than my last cigarettes and my lighter and ask her to throw them away for me?  What better time to quit than the most symbolic of all?  That way every year on her birthday I can celebrate another year smoke free!  I think it’s a damn fine idea.  It gives her something both she and I want.

I think we’ll both breathe easier with that gift.  It’s inexpensive, but it’s worth its weight in gold.

Yeah, nobody likes a quitter, but you know what, I’ll take that like I’ve taken everything else, with a middle finger in the air for the people who don’t like it.

I can do it.  If I get wigged out or freaked out, I can chew some Nicorette.

Wish me luck.  If it works, then it’s the gift that’ll just keep giving.


I’m not sure what is wrong with people sometimes.  I got a whisper tonight on WoW from a friend who said, “Can you please not level your hunter to 75 yet, or at least wait to get to 80 until after I do?”  I asked, “Why?” He says, “Because my toon was 73 when yours hit 40 and you’re about to pass me.”  Ok, I don’t get it.  What the hell?  Why should I have to wait for someone who actually has a life to level their toon?  We’re all pretty much agreed I don’t have a life, so why should it bother anyone what level my new hunter is at?  Playing WoW is just a nice way for me NOT to be lonely!  What the hell?

So I asked him, “Why does it bother everyone when I succeed?”  My entire life, whenever I have succeeded at anything, it’s driven people up the fricking wall.  He replied, “Because we’re all jealous that we can’t do what you do.”  I replied, “Please, I’m just like everyone else, it’s not my fault I’m performance oriented.”  Then he says, “Because you’re already epic, so when you get something new, everyone just thinks ‘holy shit, I wonder what she is going to do next.'”

At that point, I just went off.  I am so tired of the fact that every time I succeed and I’m really good at something, someone is just waiting in the wings to push me down.  People being jealous of me went out of style when I was in junior high…I’m over it, but still, I’m constantly surrounded by people who just can’t stand to see good things happen to me.  So I finally said, “Well dude, it’s not my fault I’ve been blessed by the gods.  This jealousy crap gets old fast, so if you don’t like what I’m doing, top me or just don’t look, but I’m not going to sit idle just because you can’t stand to watch me go by.” 

ARGH!  You know, I’m trying to get some positive momentum going.  Something that will make me feel like I’m getting some kind of traction in my out of control life. 

You know, I lived for seven years with a man who made it his mission to make me feel like I was crazy or stupid.  He always went out of his way to make sure I felt inadequate and oh boy did he do well at that.   You know I lived my entire childhood under the oppressive boot of people telling me I was never good enough.  “You’re not fast enough, get out of the way” when I was a kid trying to help in the kitchen, the constant “why isn’t this B an A” on my report cards, the “you might be beautiful on the outside but you’re ugly on the inside” crap my mother used to heap on me. 


Why is it that I have to be oppressed to make people happy?  You know I’m sorry if there are some people who feel inadequate next to me.  It’s not my fault I’ve been blessed by the gods!  I’ve been forged in the fires of a hell unlike anyone will ever endure, so excuse me if I politely tell the people who find it necessary to put me down to stick it up their ass.

And people wonder why I have such a nasty attitude sometimes.  Half the time I just sit there astonished that people can’t grow a pair and get on their game.  Because I’m so performance oriented, I sit disappointed because people can’t do what I can do or can’t keep up.  I know that already for chrissakes!  Do you think I enjoy being so aware how next level I am and can’t do anything to help people get to where I am?  It’s frustrating!  My entire life I’ve looked for an equal and a balance to me and for 38 years I’ve sat alone and frustrated.  It’s not easy!  I’m always 10 steps ahead!  Always on the next level or the next page.

I’m sorry I’m not ordinary.  I’m sorry that it hurts people that they can’t keep up, but I’m not going to sit around on my ass while they up their game.

You know, is closing it’s doors tomorrow.  And that’s just another example of people pushing me down.  I was in that online world for 5 years.  When I asked people for help on learning how to skin a 3D model, I got told to piss up a rope, so I taught myself.  Then I became THE premiere instructor in that world teaching everyone else how to do it and all those people who wouldn’t teach me or help me, called my work novel.  Then when I had some success and had a great reputation…what did they do…found every way imaginable to push me down.  It wasn’t my fault that I was always 2 years ahead of the curve.  While they were designing Wal-mart quality, what was I doing?  Pushing the envelope and bringing out Haute Couture for a virtual world.  And for all that, what did I get called?  Novel.  No, I didn’t have a design that sold a one-off for $200 real dollars.  No…that couldn’t have been me.  (I’m being sarcastic because that actually happened.)  I served on the Members Advisory Board and stamped on toes because I told the truth about what sucked and what worked in that world.  What did I get for all my teaching hours and all my hard work?  A petty, jealous status-quo who couldn’t do what I could, so they treated me like dirt.  Ideas stolen right out from under me.  I finally burnt out of that world and I’m so glad, it’s money I didn’t throw away.  OMG, someone coming up with the idea of a surf shop in a world that had nothing but beaches?!!?  Heaven forbid!  And then naming a buggy a Therecedes…what will I come up with next!?  Pushing behind the scenes so designers could have mannequins to display their designs in a tangible fashion?  Gods help us all!  Sheri’s coming up with another new idea!  Oh, you don’t want her stuff, she’s from Uru!   Ugh.  Goodbye There, glad I got out a long time ago.

But still, you know, I’m not going to dwell because some people just can’t keep up.  Their inadequacy issues are theirs, not mine.  I don’t have to own them because I didn’t do anything to deserve any sort of jealousy.  I’m living my life.  Why can’t other people do the same and just leave well enough alone?

Just for my buddy’s dumb-ass crack, I’m going to hit 75 if not 76 and make sure that I hit 80 so far ahead of him that he’ll sit writhing in agony.  Don’t ever tell me I can’t do something.  I will make it my mission to prove you wrong.  It’s that persevering spirit of mine.  I will not be put down, nor be told no.  I’ve had enough of that, thank you very much.

Dante’s Inferno, WoW, Eddie Van Halen and Gear.

Ok, I’ve gotten through Dante’s “Inferno” in World Lit.  Note to self:  Don’t read Dante before going to bed.  The visual of the guys with the heads twisted to face backwards is still giving me grief as I’m trying to go to sleep.

But the one part of The Inferno that struck me most was the fifth circle of hell.  The Wrathful and Sullen.  Ok, that’s me.  I’ll admit to it 100 times over.  I’ve become the most wrathful and sullen so-and-so lately.  I’ve not left the house except to go to school and I’m ticked off most of the time.  I’m just not happy.  But, reading about the fifth circle of hell cheered me up a bit.  Ok, I know that’s strange to say, but it has.

Dante composed the Fifth Circle of Hell as the Wrathful and Sullen covered in mud and biting into each other with sharp teeth.  I know it’s gruesome, ok?  But I guess it had to be for it to really sink in what it meant.  I mean those guys were down in the mud eating each other and I realized with no matter how anyone has been wronged, and even with the gargantuan Medea complex I have, it’s still not cool to get that wrapped up.  Letting things go is like jumping out of the mud and being hosed off, otherwise you just sit there eating yourself and everyone around you, which is a hell I can totally get myself out of.  I can analyze things to death and dwell on all of the things I find that are unjust, but at the end of the day, if I sit pissed off in the mire, that’s my own damn fault.  Besides it’s not my fault what wrongs people do to me, they’ve damned themselves and they have to live with that, I don’t.  Why walk through the mire when I can just build a bridge, get over it and laugh at the people who try to pull me down in an attempt to serve their own selfish ends.

So I know it’s weird to say, but Dante cheered me up.  Odd.  Still not 100% happy though.  I’ve been really lonely lately.  I think my problem is that I don’t know what to do to be NOT lonely.    Desperation is the world’s worst cologne, when you’re desperate to have company, it usually shows.  I don’t want my need for human contact to show because I’m afraid I’ll look desperate.  *shrug* But given time and the right set of events, I’m sure that situation will resolve itself.

My pal KP noted to me last night how pissy I’ve been lately when they’ve been visiting with me on Ventrillo while we’ve been playing World of Warcraft.  Besides the fact that I’m going stir crazy from isolation, another reason I’ve been so unbearable is because I’m sick and tired of the ever-constant failfest we’ve been going through for the last couple of months in our 10 and 25 man raids.  This week’s raids were good.  Got in Tuesday and Thursday and we go again tonight.  Thursday was really good because it was a nice, solid progression push.  Two bosses down in one night (Rotface and Festergut – and no they’re not my friends from the fifth circle of hell lol) then on to Professor Putricide for a couple of pulls was really good.  It gave me hope and made me less ticked off.  BUT, here’s the kicker…that’s the first week we’ve really seen some solid progression in a while.  Previous to this week, our raid leader has had to fill the raid with people who don’t know how to play just so we can get 25 bodies into the instance.  The people who can’t play worth a darn have been carried by the rest of the team who DO know how to play but the unskilled players have been winning rolls for gear so when you look them up on, what you find is that they have this huge gear score but it has absolutely nothing to do with what kind of skill they have as a player.  So we’ve been in a situation where we’ve got people in great gear, but no freaking clue what to do with it.  Hence, I’m frustrated because we can’t get anywhere.  You know, with all the Epic Fail my life has been in the last year outside of school, I’d like to feel like I’m accomplishing something.

The amount of high level gear someone has does not equal an outstanding player.  If you give an average joe who has no skill or talent for playing guitar and give them a $10,000 Les Paul, it’s going to sound like crap.  But if you give Eddie Van Halen a cheap $2 guitar from Goodwill, he’ll make it sound like a $10,000 Les Paul.   That’s what’s happening right now.  I’ve seen people in gear I would love to have, but when it comes down to the damage charts, my crap gear is giving better results than someone geared ten times better than I am.  So, to me, that’s a very “Eddie” situation.  It’s not the gear that defines the player, but the player that defines the gear.   I guess I’m frustrated because I try so hard to do so much with so little, to see someone with more than what I have not doing anything with it, it annoys me to death.  But, I try to remember the Fifth Circle of Hell and remember that I shouldn’t let it eat me up or wear me down.

To tell the truth, I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately.  I am so out of focus and unmotivated, I just don’t know what to do with myself.  Maybe I’ve gone stir-crazy.  I should go out to my parents so I can be around people, but I don’t really want to be hassled about being a smoker or be given the list of the 50 million things they think is wrong with me and the fact that I need a job so bad it hurts!  OMG, nothing in the world would make me happier than to have a job, but I just can’t find anything.  It’s so depressing.  Ok, I think most of my problem is that I’ve got a sister with cancer, an aunt who was just admitted to the hospital for her lungs because she’s been a smoker for gosh knows how many years, my mom is freaking out about it and telling me she’s going to kill me if I don’t stop smoking.  If y’all think for an instant I’m not freaked out about the whole thing, you’re dead wrong.  Every time I light up, I’m trapped in this nasty catch-22.  I’m a stress smoker.  That means when I get stressed out or freaked out, I smoke.  So, to light up freaks me out and makes me want to put it out, but then because I’m so freaked, I need to light one up.  It’s so fucked up, I can’t even begin to describe it.  I KNOW I need to stop smoking.  DUH!  Wanted to quit for years!  But, with all the stressful crap I have to deal with, it just reinforces it.  I’m so trapped. 

So, here I sit in the Fifth Circle of Hell.  And I want OUT!  lol. 

But let’s end with some good news.  First, I’m on the air again on The Cavern Today Podcast!  Yay!  Yep, I’m doling out my signature brand of common sense on my regular op-ed segment That’s Just Me Of Course and I’m a panelist once again on TCT Talk, our roundtable discussion segment.  If you want to take a listen,  You can listen to it right on the page.  Then my other piece of good news is that I got a 98 on my Journalism mid-term.   So there is some good stuff going on, it’s just that I’m so sick of the four walls of my apartment, I’m ready to scream.  I need company!  I need to go on a date!

Anyone know a handsome, single, stable, caring 38 year-old man who plays WoW and speaks D’ni?

Seeing Red.

Today, I’m off to the DMV to get rid of my Springs Preserve license plate.  You know, I really don’t want to be reminded of the place where some $2 Kentucky whore found it acceptable to make off with my ex.  That place is just a blight on this city and I don’t want to advertise it on my bumper.  It’s just not worth it.

But here’s where I start to get really annoyed.  I mean REALLY annoyed.  Going through the paperwork that the ex left in a total mess, to make sure I had the proper paper work in the car to take with me to the DMV, you know, insurance papers, registration stuff, etc.  I happen upon an envelope.  You know, I always say, if you’re premeditating doing something that hurts someone else, don’t leave any evidence for them to find.  Better yet, just don’t fucking do it.  It’s not hard to use common sense.

But since when has that lowlife…insert string of VERY obscene profanities…ex of mine ever had common sense to pee on?

Never in the 10 years have I known the man has he ever had one shred of common sense.  I mean he’s got 4 degrees!!!!  Somehow, somewhere something had to have rubbed off, right?  HELL NO!

….Insert another very long string of S-words, F-words, some MF’s and some C-words…I am THAT ticked off…

Just wait until you read what was IN the envelope…

It was a set of receipts that chronologically…I mean the man put them in chronological order…of all of the things he did with that bassett hound faced bitch.  The breakfasts every Saturday AND Sunday morning, the Ivory taper candles, the candle holders, the BDSM equipment, which I shan’t list here, because I know some of you would faint dead away if you saw what was on there…the endless list of lunches he bought her, and the cherry on the cake?  Well, he said he bought her one $75 piece of jewelry…remember me finding out about that one?  Well, the lying sack of shit bought her a $200 diamond and amethyst necklace!  IN CASH!  And he leaves the receipt here?  Was he smoking dope?  I mean how colossally stupid do you have to be to leave the evidence of your affair in plain sight?  That’s not one but TWO pieces of jewelry he bought her.  I was married to the man for 7 years and that piece of shit never bought me anything I didn’t have to beg for!!!  Jewelry?  For me?  NEVER.  If I wanted to do something or get something it was always “We’ll look into that” which as you know was his normal dismissal which was a very blatant “NO”.

I mean he had 5 affairs in a 7 year marriage and I never found out about any of them until when I found out about that bassett hound faced bitch and CAUGHT HIM AT HER HOUSE!  Not to mention the 30 pages of text messages, the incessant texting right in front of me and all they lying that sick, sad motherfucker did.  And now, a year later…A YEAR!  I’m finding even more things he lied about. 

He called me the other day to check on me and when I told him how well everything was going with school, he started crying on the phone, like he wanted to come home.

I swear to the gods, if I got my hands on him right now, I don’t know what I’d do to him but let me tell you, none of it would be nice!  I just ran out of every single last SHRED of guilt I had for him bailing out on me and packing up with that bitch of his and moving to Kentucky. 

He had the AUDACITY to bitch to me how the people in Kentucky had horrible speech and how you could cut the gravy with a knife and all of his complaining about how uncivilized it was.  YOU KNOW WHAT?  He made his bed, now he can lie in it! 

I have been in a never-ending shame spiral because I always blamed myself for all the things he did.  You know what, no one in their right mind would do the things he did for any reason.  That’s just malicious bullshit that I can not bear to even believe I could drive someone to that level of absolute idiocy.  What he did is now on him.  And I hold the documentation.  Gods help him when the divorce lawyers get done with him, because I’ve got ample, AMPLE evidence of all of his stuff.  What is he going to hold over my head?  A World of Warcraft subscription?  Please.

You know, that’s the fun part about being the one who’s squeaky clean in this.  With what he’s done, I look cleaner than the pope!

And everyone asks me why I don’t leave the house, why I don’t date and why I just stick to my studies, online worlds and my family. 

OMG.  I am about ready to take off like a rocket.  But you know what, I’m going to save it up.  I’m going to get calm and put all that paperwork in a safe place and then when it comes time I’m going to let him have it with both barrels.

Enough with the shame spiral.  He just built the bridge for me to get over it.

As far as I’m concerned, Kentucky wasn’t far enough away.  He needs to drive right into the Atlantic and drown.