Stacey, Traci and Sharon

I can’t keep a friend!

For the most part, each jerk will get their own entry, but for this and a couple of other entries, I am going to lump multiple people together into one entry. Each story is brief enough that it barely warrants it’s own entry, and besides I hung out with all three of these people at the same time – they were elementary and Jr. high school friends at that awful school of nightmares; back before my mother sent me away so that she could screw the ever-lovin’ hell out of my first boyfriend, (who seemingly nobody noticed was a pedophile). The lot of us hung out together, the scummy, unlovely unpopular girls. You know how it is in schools – and in life.

When I first got back to this horrible town from where I had lived across the country for over a decade, I ran into Stacey at a Dollar store and we started hanging out. It was winter and I didn’t know the bus route yet, so once a month she would pick me up to go grocery shopping and I would give her $5 or $10 and after shopping we would go to the Dunkin’ Donuts and I would also buy her a drink. I thought everything was going fine, but one day she told me her car broke down and she couldn’t take me shopping. I figured it out on my own with the bus, but after a couple of months had gone by I was stupid enough to inquire of her – did you get your car fixed? Can we resume our shopping and coffee? She told me that she had gotten a big truck and that she thought I was probably too fat to lurch myself up into it.

Who does that?! I have no idea what I did to her to deserve that. Bitch, if you don’t want to take me shopping anymore, tell me that you don’t want to take me shopping anymore. Don’t lie to me about a broken vehicle and/or say such an incredibly rude thing about my weight. Who says that kind of thing to a so-called friend? So there went the years of sleep-overs, cookouts, walks in the river, trick-or-treating, going to the carnival the next county over, and swapping out different adorable boys from our vast collection of teeny bopper and heavy metal mags. We didn’t even have a disagreement or anything the last time we went out shopping. I did have a very minor altercation with a couple of slutty-looking under-dressed barely-legals who had heard me mutter something unkind about their great and billowing clouds of perfume (which nearly killed me) but it was very brief and just snipey, nothing escalated. Just like “reowr, reowr, hiss, done”. Stacey didn’t get involved even peripherally, so if that was what pissed her off I can’t begin to imagine why she wouldn’t just have told me.

After that wisecrack about my weight from her smart mouth, I never spoke to her again. Obviously. 😡If I am ever unfortunate enough to see her around town, I ill treat her like a stranger. I may be portly, but I could have lurched my ass up into that truck. I’m not disabled in that way. Fuck her. What a bitch.


Traci and I had not seen each other for 20-some years and we got together – once – last summer and we went to my good old swimmin’ hole. I thought that (other than the asshole who showed up with his drone) we had a good time. She promised that we would do it at least one more time that summer. We never did. the last thing she said in our Facebook inbox messages was “You and Gran are like family to me! When I get online again I will shoot you a message”. Yeah, that never happened. That was almost 10 months ago.  She has been online aplenty since then, of course, and has posted much about her daughters activities at the school that is a mere four miles away… so… I think she only took me to the river so that she could remember where it was – she had not been there with me for 20+ years after all, and once she knew where it was she just blew me off and had a new place to take her family.

Par for the fucking course. This is how my life goes. Just one more bitch that I gave MY special place to when I can’t even goddamned get there myself. I hate this.

However did I ever end up such a goddamned useless adult? 😞


Sharon – I introduced her to Second Life (SL) several years ago – I forget how many. 7 or 8 I think. “Second Life – the game for people without a first one!” She became so obsessed with it that she now pretty much lives there 24/7 – all day, every day. On the very, very rare occasions I ever log in anymore, doesn’t matter, day, night, whenever, at least one if not several of her avatars are online. So, this many years later, the obsession still holds for her. I met her and her kids downtown once a few years ago for burgers and her kids straight up told me that they hated me for having ever introduced her to Second Life. (I haven’t seen them since. So sad). 😑

Nice. How the fuck was I supposed to know she couldn’t handle it normally and would have to go all mental and special-in-the head over it? And pretty much move into a VR environment – apparently permanently – nmband neglect her flock of brats over it?

I taught her everything she knows about SL and when some sort of child support settlement came through for her – Idk the details, they are not my business, she started paying into Second Life and bought Land. This costs roughly $100 USD/month, or at least did at the time. No ideas what it costs now, I am largely done with SL. Maybe entirely.

Nice, huh? Buying SL with her child support money.

Once she became hot shit in SL, with land and a club and a store and learning how to DJ and all of that fancy shit, she froze me out. There was some other bullshit about a shared build that we had co-designed that she deleted without telling me or giving me a copy and it was all just stupid and pretty much the catalyst of me flaking off of SL after 7+ years of having largely enjoyed it.

I pretty much only ever log in for Hair Fair and Christmas gifts anymore, (highest quality free gifts of the year) but I haven’t actually played there in about 2 years now. There were a couple of other bad scenes in SL before this bullshit with Sharon which I will detail elsewhere, this was just the final shit show that made me say “fuck it” and bail.

Nice friends, right?


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s