Monthly Archives: November 2011

Getting where you want to go…

Today has to be one of my favorite days in a while.  I was sitting in my 463 class this morning when an e-mail came through on my Blackberry, it was my official invitation to join UNLV’s National Student Advertising Competition Team along with the call number for invitation-only class that goes with it.

Sitting in my chair in class, even though I had been told verbally that I had made the team a couple of weeks ago, it really didn’t sink in that I had made the team until I looked down at the e-mail.

I couldn’t help it, I just broke down into tears thinking, “I did it, I can’t believe I really made it.”

Three years ago, sitting Doc L.’s Journalism 100 class, he had mentioned the invite only class that goes to compete.  I remember sitting in the lecture hall glued to my seat and drooling, wanting with all of my heart to get that invitation.

Today, I got it.

As we come to the end of the year, I always try to reflect on the year and its ups and downs.  But, this year, I really do have to look over the last three years with absolute astonishment.  For those of you who have been with me from the beginning of this journey, you’ll remember what it was like.  I was scared, angry, confused and had absolutely no idea how I was going to dig myself out of the mess I was in.  Abandoned, alone, unemployed, and for the first time in my life independent, it was a whole new ballgame that I had no idea how to handle.

I remember the day of the phone conversation that changed the landscape for me.  Actually there were three.  The first was the call from UNLV to let me know that I had gotten back into school, albeit as a part-time student, that I hadn’t been fully admitted yet.  The next year came the second one, that I had been admitted as a full-time student.  The third was actually the funniest, it was a conversation with my Ex that asked him about my major.  Initially I had gone back to school to become a teacher, you remember, right?  I had aspirations to be a high school English teacher.  Well, I remember driving home one day on the I-15 on a call with my Ex.  All of my life I had wanted to go into advertising and my Ex told me, “You should really go into teaching, it’s a lot easier and you don’t have to self-promote.  Advertising is a tough field, you’ll constantly have to fight for what you have.”  So I asked him, “What do you think I should do, go into Ad/PR or be a teacher?”  He said, “Be a teacher, you’ll get a lot more rewards out of it.”  After he said that, I remember thinking to myself, “He has got to be the world’s worst person to tell me to do anything, every single decision he’s ever made has ended in disaster.”  So, I did what any smart girl would do, took my Ex’s advice and flushed it down the toilet and set my sights on Advertising.

Three years later, I’m on the NSAC team and I got there all on my own.  No help, no enabler, just people around me that are cheering me on.

A couple of weeks ago, I realized how truly far I’ve come in 40 years.  I started out as a bullied kid.  I don’t remember a day of childhood that doesn’t have some sort of anxiety attached to it.  The kids I grew up with, for the most part, were a pack of malicious thugs that suffered from a severe amount of jealousy.  What do jealous kids do?  They hammer on the kids they are jealous of or feel threatened by.  So, unfortunately my childhood wasn’t filled with protectors like we find for young people today.  I had to gut it out, day by day, scar by scar.  I remember laying in my bed wishing I would die because I couldn’t go on another day.  Depression of course followed.

My 20’s saw me flailing my arms trying to break out of all of the nightmares I had endured.  I was willing to do anything to make the pain, anxiety and depression stop.  So, into the body go the drugs, out of the window goes the common sense.  I saw my share of atrocities go on during that time and they are too many to recall and they are stories I don’t want to tell, because in most cases, I think y’all would lose your lunch.  Being held up by my throat against a wall wasn’t fun, but that was the least of the damages I endured during that time.

So with my Gen-X list of maladies in tow, I went into my 30’s and lucky for me, someone decided to step up and try to save the day, that was my Ex who saw me through detox and got me put on a path to realize my potential.  I know that I don’t have a lot of positive things to say about my ex, but I have to be grateful to the man, he saw what I believed no one else did, that there was someone of value underneath all that pain.

But like all great comeback stories, you have to endure the bad to get to the good.  Abuse, drug addiction, abandonment, and every other horror are there for a simple reason, it makes you into who you are and in some cases like mine, it gives you the will and fortitude to keep fighting.  They are the things that trigger our survival instincts and dictate whether or not we are going to sink or if we’re going to swim.  Whether we embrace it or not, all of the hurdles we climb through life are there for a specific reason and purpose to teach us what we need to know to not only survive, but thrive.

Almost three years ago, I was laying on my living room floor crying in utter despair, wondering what was going to happen to me.  From my viewpoint at the time, I had nothing.  No close friends nearby, no support structure I trusted, not a single clue as to what I was going to do.  I was alone.

The moments where we bottom out and are left with nothing and no hope are the moments that define us.  They make us get up off the floor, they make us grab up our destiny in our own two hands and make us take that next step forward, whether we like it or not.  It’s the moment you make the choice between laying there and wallowing in despair or getting up and making our lives our own.

I have been extremely fortunate in the last three years to have come across Doc Cat at school.  As my resident therapist, she took me through my Personal Growth class and taught me how to thaw all of the ice and obstacles that were holding me back.  She taught me how to let go of all the horrible things that have happened to me.  She taught me how to take off all of my armor and embrace the world honestly, unguarded and unafraid.   After years of looking for external solutions to my internal problems, I finally got the peace I had long sought when I was tossing and turning one night and a little voice inside me rose up and said, “Sheri, give yourself peace, you’re the only one who can.”

Yes, there are still things that trigger my PTSD, hey after everything I’ve been through it’s no small wonder I have it, but I am armed, thanks to Doc Cat, on how to handle it all.  Some days aren’t easy, but you know what, even my worst days are a hell of a lot better than my best days used to be.  She taught me how to identify and put down my destructive behaviors, which for most people is rare and it takes a class like my Personal Growth experience to actually let the process take hold to allow yourself to actually grow as a human being.

Thanks to Doc Cat, I no longer apologize for living.  For years I was ashamed of my existence on the planet.  Now, if someone doesn’t like me or what I say, well, I tell them “There’s the door, don’t let it hit you in the backside on the way out.”  I finally like myself, I’m cool with what I see in the mirror every day and I finally have gotten where I want to go.

Doc Cat asked us at the beginning of the Personal Growth class where we wanted to go and what we wanted to achieve.  I wanted to have a great job, pay my own bills, keep the roof over my head and do anything my heart desired, effectively being completely independent.

I’m now where I want to be.  And I have my NSAC Team invitation in my pocket to boot.  I’ve gotten everything I’ve ever wanted and I did it on my own without help.

I’ve come one hell of a long way.  Anyone who says I haven’t can politely kiss my ass.  I am armed with the wisdom to know that life is a journey, not a destination and no one is ever finished growing as a human being. I have learned that my issues reside with me, and I am aware enough not to saddle others with my emotional baggage by projecting my issues onto them.  I have ownership of my life and all of the things that happen in it, what happens is my responsibility, no one else’s.  Most of all the biggest gun in my arsenal is hope and the drive to stay positive no matter what comes my way.

The sad part of it all is that my greatest moments have always come when I’m alone.  But, instead of despairing over the fact that no one was around to share my joy today, it wasn’t as bad this time because while it was disappointing, I had to remind myself that it is important to remember that what I did, I did on my own.  I can sit back extremely happy without seeking approval because every step I’ve climbed, it was my guts and fortitude that carried my foot to that next step.

The remarkable moment was the young woman at school a few weeks ago that laughed after I looked at her and jokingly said, “Can I be like you when I grow up?”  She laughed then replied seriously, “But Sheri, we really want to be like you.”

I will tell you that climbing up out of the muck is not easy, but it is possible.  To come back strong, you have to want it bad and feel it deep down in your heart and be willing to scratch, claw and climb the whole way, because it’s going to put up a fight for every inch.  Just when you think you’re on top of things, you’re going to get thrown another curve ball and it is going to take every ounce of heart you’ve got to stay positive and win the day.  Anyone can get on the comeback trail.  Being the underdog isn’t easy, but when that moment comes and you realize you climbed through all of that hurt on your own and realize that you’re finally in a position to enjoy the rest of the journey, it’s a really great place to be.

UNLV is hosting this year’s NSAC District 15 regional competition in April, you’re all invited to come watch my team dominate the competition and reach for the goal of Nationals at the AAF’s AdAmerica Conference in Austin, Texas this June.

If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to hit the sack, tomorrow is a big day, I’m interviewing Doc S. on a feature story about the NSAC for my 202 class and on top of that I’ve got a million fires to put out at work.  Things have to get built and gratefully, I’m just the gal for the job.

Today’s song of the day is for me and everyone out there that refuse to go down without a fight.  “When you go hard, your nay’s become yea’s.”  For all my fighters, Nicki Minaj’s “Fly.”


I was just having to describe user-created content in social-oriented virtual worlds to someone.  I tell you what, the money to be made there is just ludicrous.  However, it’s not the players that are making money, it’s the companies who are sponsoring user-created content that are making out like bandits.

For those non-virtual world lingo speaking folks, let’s define user-created content really quick because it’s pretty common sense: users create their own content for virtual worlds, be it clothing, vehicles, or houses.  Basically it’s users who are able to re-texture (also known as paint or color) a three-dimensional model or create new three-dimensional assets (structures, vehicles, etc.).

There is a problem with user-created content, it’s rarely ever quality work.  Someone who teaches themselves Photoshop is a commendable act, however, as my old raid leader Jason used to say, “You can’t make chicken salad out of chicken shit.”  Meaning, that even if you know a graphic editor down to its last detail, it does not mean that you are an artist.  Hence, you find a lot of would-be texture artists saying that they can create a texture, but in actuality in most cases it’s texture theft.  For the majority, online world user-created content is usually taken from somewhere else.  Underwear and lingerie is stolen from photos on the Victoria’s Secret website, denim is stolen from Levi’s, Lucky Jeans, and simple online catalogs for stores like Wal-Mart and JCPenny along with stealing textures for shirts, shoes and every clothing and furniture piece you can think of, and oh boy does it show.

The textures from these so-called “artists” usually turn out god-awful and not worth the money users spend on it.  Put bluntly, you couldn’t get me to pay for what some of those people call “fashion.”  It’s little more than stolen textures stretched and made to fit a three-dimensional mesh, and it doesn’t take a single bit of skill to “create” something like that.  You can tell it’s pitiful quality from a mile off and it makes me shudder uncontrollably.  It offends the very nature of my education and knowledge of the genre.  Texture stealing user-created content “artists” are the bane of my existence.  Then there are the self-taught ones who believe with every fiber in their being that they are creating quality textures when the truth is that it is hideously ugly and no more than wastebasket fodder, refuse, birdcage liner or just plain trash.   Every single one of those so-called “artists” has taken an avatar that was, in a rare few cases, pretty good, and turned it into a train wreck faster than you can say “What the…”

Yeah, and it’s sad going into online worlds and seeing that kind of thing happening.  Don’t get me wrong, there are the very rare few that are absolutely wonderful and talented artists in the user-created content programs around the Internet, but I stress they are very few and far between.  Here’s the problem though, online world users buy that stuff up like mad.  Even if it is of poor quality, stolen or just plain ugly, they buy it up because it’s “new” to their world of choice.  Here’s where it gets sick:

As an example, and it is not the exception, but the rule, let’s talk about my experience with the’s User-Created Content Program.  Now try to wrap your mind around this one: made their assets available for texturing via two proprietary software programs, Stylemaker and Previewer.  In Stylemaker, you could create your own clothing textures based on their available templates, in Previewer you got to create your own home furnishings/treatments.  For those who taught themselves 3ds Max or the free software Gmax, they could even create their own three-dimensional models.

Ok, so what do you have?  Aspiring texture artists and modelers making things.  Hey, great!  I’m all up for a hobby!  Hooray, an artistic outlet!

Here’s where it gets sinister.

We have amateur texture artists and modelers making things for, BUT, here’s the catch, to submit the item, for it to even begin to be considered by the company to be let into the world, you had to pay between $4 and $20 for each and every item you wish to submit, known as a “submission fee”.  So, now those same amateur texture artists and modelers have not only put in their time to make something (essentially free labor), now they’re paying the company to look at their work and approve it.  If you’re like me, you’re sitting there going, “Wait, wait, wait, the artists and modelers just worked for free, now they’re PAYING the company to accept their work?”  If that doesn’t make you slam on the brakes really hard, I don’t know what will.

It gets worse.

Ok, so let’s just say that the amateur modeler and texture artists have created something that thinks is “ok” to go into their world.  The submissions process (that $4-$20 from before) supposedly pays for someone at There’s offices to look over the model and/or texture to make sure it doesn’t violate copyrights or trademarks, so basically the modelers and texture artists have paid the company to check their work for them, just to weed out the texture/trademark/copyright thieves.  So still, the amateur modeler or texture artist is paying someone else to look over the work they did for free, essentially paying the company for a service that should be free given the amount of money paid on the back end when takes a fee for every single asset that the amateur modeler or texture artist wants for themselves (outside of the ONE free copy that the modeler or texture artist gets back when their submission is approved).  The amateur modeler or texture artist then has to pay once again for what they themselves have created with their blood, sweat, tears and countless hours behind modeling software or a graphic editor if they want another copy of the item they made with their own two hands by going into their user’s developer page and paying a “wholesale cost” for the item.  So, they paid to submit it, then they pay again if they want another copy of it in-world.  So now they’ve paid twice and yeah, what they’re paying for, they made themselves! So ok, where’s the logic here?  And why did countless users (mea culpa) keep doing it, paying out thousands upon thousands of dollars a year for their own work?

Are you wrapping your head around this yet?  It is essentially this:  People are laboring for free then paying companies to allow them to see their own artwork/models in a virtual world.

Here’s the rub, it’s not just in, it’s in Twinity, IMVU, Onverse and Second Life too!  Whereas in Twinity and Second Life, you can just make something and upload it for free, there are tons of companies like Nike, Louis Vuitton, Prada, Gucci, Adidas and others having their trademarks violated on a daily basis, but still, it’s users working for free to expand the worlds that they pay monthly fees to just to play!

Ok, so now you’ve got people taking their hobby time and making the online world of their choice even more money by selling those items to other players in which the online world company providing the service gets a surcharge for every item (made for free) sold in the auctions, shops and other sales avenues in the world!  Sure, some users are making a small portion of their submission fees back, but rarely do you see them actually derive any sort of return on investment.  What returns on investment these users make usually goes directly back into the system in the form of new submissions.   Are you getting what a racket this is?

I get disgusted really fast when I think about all of the users out there who have not only spent their time to make something of quality, that they make the texture with their own two hands and imagination, eschewing the need to steal their textures from the Internet, and they are the ones who have had their hard work prostituted to line some CEO’s pocketbook who could care less about the world, just the bottom line.

Those online worlds are taking the hard work of their user base and building their worlds on top of it.  Essentially the online world companies are having players build their worlds for them, and those same companies are having their world built for free and shamelessly making a profit off of free labor.  Think about it, if the world didn’t have those users toiling behind their own software making things, what would new users see when they came into the world?  Answer:  Nothing.  Just base structures that the company started out with.

The sad part is this:  Rarely (and I do stress rarely) do we see social online worlds expand by the company who actually owns it.  If we do see any sort of expansion, it is because a user stepped up, slapped down their cold, hard cash for virtual real estate then paid even more to build something on top of it.  A good, solid majority of the time, those additional items that they build with come directly from other users, not the virtual world they pay their membership fees to in the first place.  Where is the world content made by the company?  Is it just the terraformed ground and the use of an avatar that the users are paying for?  Is that all they are doing?

This is why I play WoW.  I might pay out $140 a year in membership fees, but I will tell you without hesitation that every single piece of armor, every building, every piece of terrain is made by the company I pay bi-annually to provide me with a world.  I know that whatever fees I pay go directly to qualified animators, texture artists, modelers, developers and professionals who make the world I choose to play rich, diverse, challenging and fun.  I take my hat off on a daily basis to Chris Metzen, Alex Afrasiabi and the whole crew at Blizzard, yeah Cataclysm might be WoW’s epic suck, but still, it’s a quality product made by professional hands.

When I get content from Blizzard, I know it’s good stuff, that’s why I never play in worlds with user-created content anymore.  I can’t abide by seeing users getting used by the people who are supposed to be providing them with a quality service, instead, they leave users to create their own content which, let’s be honest, it usually sucks, stolen from the Internet or just lacks good quality.

So for those of you who yearn for a social world that is good quality stuff, I suggest you wait for one that will provide you with content pushes filled with quality things that are worth the money you spend on them.  If you feel the need to create, grab a copy of Photoshop Elements or GIMP and have a good time with it, but User-created content is not the answer, in that scenario the user always loses.  Put another way, user-created content programs in virtual worlds are just like coming to Vegas to gamble:  Casinos aren’t built on winners.

So, for all of those user-created content junkies out there, you get the song of the day, Madonna’s “Material Girl.”

Giving Thanks

It’s time again for my annual Thanksgiving post.  I think it is only proper to take time out to say thank you to all of the people who have positively impacted my life over the last year.  With how my horizons have broadened over the last year, we’ve got quite a few new characters to cover, so let’s get started.

I want to start this year with my crew of indomitable souls at work.  I am so thankful for all of their hard work and their ability to battle back from even the worst situations.  So to Brian, Michelle, Alex, Jim, Jon, Frank, Darla, Kathy, and Ben, you guys have been my rock in the hardest of moments, you’ve absolutely helped me keep my sanity when I thought that I’d really lose it, and you always remind me that in every situation you can always find hope.  To Alex and Brian, my brothers-in-arms, you have both shown me how to stay fair, balanced and honest with my feelings in how I handle even the worst moments.  To Bruce and Karl, you guys  are my sweet Feydakin, I don’t know what I’d do without you guys making sure I’m in the loop on everything.  Finally to Michelle and Darla, my sweet soul-sisters, you are my touchstone that reminds me that it is perfectly fine to be a girl that is just as tough as the boys.

Next up, my set of sweet young women at school.  I’m truly thankful to all of these persevering young women who remind me to stay young at heart while putting shoulder to the wheel to “get it done.”  Claire, you rock.  I’m so grateful that you always remind me that acceptance is not the end-all, be-all, but that you have to accept yourself first and be proud of who you are.  Alicia gets a jab in the ribs by my elbow and my thanks for reminding me that work and school put together sometimes wear you out, but sometimes it takes that watered down cup of coffee you suffer through to reach the goal.  I’m grateful to Nataline who’s taught me that sometimes a dry wit is all it takes to make a point.  I’m also grateful to Jami, Honey and George who are the earth, water and firey elements that have worked so hard to bring Doc L. a quality show.

I’m so thankful for Doc L. and Scorsese.  Without those two men really backstopping me and making sure that I’m on course and following the second star to the left, straight on until morning, I don’t know where I’d be.  I’m really grateful for all of the support they’ve shown me.  Speaking of support, I gotta give major props and hugs to Doc S.  He has put up with me popping my head into his office for my passioned dissertations on the NSAC.  Finally, three more of my professors who have really stepped up to the plate this year for me, Doc M. and Ron K., thank you so much for helping me see the light on so many topics for work, you guys have really helped loads and I’m so grateful for your patience and understanding.  Finally, to Prof. H., seeing you around campus and the encouragement you’ve given me is really fantastic.

I’m always grateful for Raj, KP, Michelle, Josh and my crew of WoW’ers who always seem to make me smile when I need it most.  KP, you are just incredible and I’m so grateful to see you back in school just like me.  Over, under, around and through, thanks for always bringing out the very best in me.  Raj, thanks for always taking my 2 a.m. eastern time texts, I always forget the time difference.

Now, let’s take it home…

Mom, Dad and Nan…thank you.  This year, with turning 40, you guys have really shown me that it’s all about getting to where you need to go and the humble pride you can have by getting out there and making your life your own.  Daddy, thank you for all of your encouragement, Mom, thanks for the votes of support and those little invaluable tidbits of wisdom you always seem to throw my way.  Nan, well, Nan’s just Nan.  She is the fighting spirit that doesn’t take no for an answer and through all of her fights she has always shown me that nothing in life worth fighting for should ever be taken for granted.

Finally, I’m going to wrap up with someone who’s made the biggest difference for me this year, and that’s Ace.  It’s tough to show how grateful you are to someone who doesn’t believe that they’re really worth all of those thanks, but I’m going to give it a try anyway.

Ace sure did suffer for me this year as he took a reclused woman behind a computer, living solely for work and school, made her go outside and embrace the world again.  He’s suffered through my very worst, he’s seen me at my best and he’s always been right there, helping me balance my stresses and being an adviser through it all.  He doesn’t get that his big blue eyes, his diesel-driven steed (a.k.a. the nickname he loves the most “gas-guzzling smog monster”), and his scruffy chin are just the gravy that covers someone with the most nutritional value I’ve ever met in my life.  We battle our PTSD every day together, we’ve held on to each other even in moments we’ve wanted to kill each other, we’ve been through some tough moments and still back each other up.  Every year I’m grateful to every single person who’s made a difference in my life, and I’m the most grateful to Ace because he showed me that even though life can be hard, unbearable at times, it’s still worth getting up and facing the world because you never know what good things will happen to you when you do.  Ace reminded me this year that we are all worth the love people give us, even when we don’t want to accept it.  He reminded me that we all have value beyond the value we place on ourselves and we don’t know our true nutritional value until we look into a mirror that just happens to be a person who is just like ourselves.

However, I can’t talk about Ace without following it up with my favorite mooch-pooch, Lucky.  Lucky, like me, is a great comeback story.  You’d never know, with all of the love that dog gives, that he was rescued from a dog-fighting ring, that that same dog was lying on the ground with his leg maliciously broken, starved to emaciation and weakness as a victim for a larger dog to learn how to kill on.  Now, that same abused animal, barring his hip-dysplasia and a bit of arthrits, has shown me that love, in all of it’s forms, can cure every hurt, that it can lift you up to a place you never thought possible.  I guess what I should say here is that Ace rescued Lucky, then Ace rescued me.  If that’s not someone with a ton of nutritional value, I don’t know what is.

I think it’s really hard to judge how much of an impact you make on a person’s life.  But, just with all of the people who have stepped up, helped out, given love and just been all-around outstanding people, I guess I’m kind of like Lucky, extremely fortunate to have been given all the love that I have received.  

Enjoy every bit of your turkey, stuffing, and every single person who has given you nutritional value over the last year.  I know I am.

As my friend Henning always says, “Love is the only truth that is worth sharing every day.”  After you pass the sweet potatoes, pass a plate of love to the person next to you as well.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

Playing for the Castrati

Ok, it is time once again for a rant.

As you know, my rants are saved for those extra special moments where I just sit back and go W.T.F.?!?!?!?!  I’ve been saving my WTF’s up for a while and now they’re all going to sit front and center to reassure women everywhere that we ladies are not the problem, we’re just the ones that are left behind to clean up the mess left behind when men go on a drama-fest.

Over the last several months, since May actually, I’ve been faced with an incredible amount of drama.  Enough so that I have practically worn my molars down to their roots with how I’ve clenched my teeth in the hopes that I could keep enough of a semblance of sanity to make my words kind, gentle and tasteful.

Here’s the thing though, every single last bit of drama I’ve encountered over the last two years or more has ALL been man-induced.  Yes, I’m talking about men.  You know, those creatures who are otherwise known as rampant, psychotic Y chromosomes on an estrogen binge from hell?  With the grand exception of KP and my father (those sainted men), every single man I know is on some sort of drama-fest.  My personal life, work, school, playing WoW, it doesn’t matter where I am or what I’m doing, I’m constantly surrounded by man drama.

Here’s where I get really ticked.

Men, for years, have pissed, bitched, moaned and whined to me that women are just the world’s worst for having or being an unending source of drama.  Ok, well let me give the newsflash fellas, women only have drama when it’s MAN INDUCED!  We only get swept up in it because we gals have to clean up the mess left behind by the Y chromosome hurricane that just passed through and it usually ticks us off to high heaven, enough to the point that the only way we can keep our sanity is by letting you know about it.

I don’t get it.  I mean, I’m a stand up girl, I don’t put up with much drama because I state clearly for all to hear that I am on a drama-free diet.  I have no want, need, desire or inclination to want to even come near drama, much less take part in it.  But, like demon spawn from hell, there it is, drama, and it’s all man-induced, which wears my patience down to an extremely fragile thread.

I’ve watched with dismay recently as men in their 40’s, 50’s and 60’s have absolutely volunteered to play for the castrati because they sure as heck have more estrogen issues than 90% of the women I know.

Women, when faced with an issue, are pretty basic.  We break out our claws, basically leave in shreds anything that has ticked us off and then we do what any sane person would do, we move on.  Yes, some women are vindictive, they’ll come back and revisit bare backs with their claws as a reminder that says, “Don’t do that again,” or to quote Billy Crystal in  Analyze This, “You want a fresh one?”  Like I said, women are pretty simple:  we get ticked, we decimate the source of the issue, we move on.

But no.  Men are a totally different scenario altogether.  Hyperfocused rah-rah spills from every orifice, drunken tears go streaming down cheeks, impossible demands are made, vendettas are aired in public, immature screaming, paranoia, you name it, and all of this, mind you, is coming from men’s mouths and I’m having to either hear it with my own ears (to the point I’d like to shove ice picks in them to make it all stop) or it’s in e-mail form to which I just take the e-mail and hit “delete.”  But then, oh, here it comes, then, men come and cry to me that women are worse than they are.  Really?  I mean seriously, someone has got to really explain this one to me.  I have never in my life witnessed such hypocrisy.

Oh sure, men just love to tell a woman that they’re being overly dramatic or taking things far too seriously, but you tell me, what about those guys who get drunk and then involve everyone into their issues or pity parties?  How about the ones who can’t quite seem to grow the pair they pride themselves on having or boast endlessly for hours about?

My favorite, bar none, has to be the tales of the men who have no interest in sex while their wives are laying next to them trying to get some, then the guys have the nerve to act hurt.  OY VEH.  It really does happen.  That right there, all man-induced drama, enough to make a woman’s fists clench so tight that it could drive fingernails through palms in record time.

Then people wonder why I run from men at Mach 2 with my hair on fire and my relationship history is accurately summed up as a trail of emotional wreckage.  I’ve finally come to a point where I’ve finally realized the truth that has evaded me for so long…maybe my relationship problems weren’t my fault to begin with.  When I think of it that way, it actually makes a whole lot of sense.

What gets me worst of all is how men can now sit so shocked at the fact that more women are climbing the corporate ladders with incredible speed AND gape in awe that there are more women CEO’s than ever before, it’s because the 21st century woman has Zero-Drama and Zero-BS tolerances, that’s how.

So ladies, it’s Sunday.  When your man brings drama to your doorstep today, politely look at them and say what you’ve been dying to say for years:

It’s your drama.  Deal with it.

Then politely smile knowing that you’ve put yourself on a drama-free diet and grown the pair they seem to have lost so that they have all sorts of time to waste playing for the castrati.

Go ahead girls, you know you want to, shudder with me and shake off all that man-drama, we’re long overdue.