Saturday, August 11, 2012

The Mildly Boring, Yet Somewhat Entertaining, Day

T'was another hot day here in Gothland, Minions. At least I didn't have a sick baby today, which pleases me knowing it wasn't anything serious and that it wasn't anything a good nights sleep couldn't cured.

So it started off as a boring day, but soon shit got interesting. Crazy with a 100% chance of twitchy face. Take a journey with me through today's event:

Xic has reserve duty this weekend. No biggie, one weekend a month, two weeks a year. Yeah, no biggie. He just has to wake up at 0430 to get ready and his alarm is the annoyingly loud, obnoxious one that could send someone into immediate fight mode with stabbing tendencies. Oh how I abhor that alarm. Yeah, new word for you. I may use my extensive vocabulary at times, but trust me, most of the time it will be "Fuckity, fuck, fucking, fucker". Okay, back to today. Xic leaves for duty and I go back to sleep for a few more hours before the Gothlings wake up. I get a text around 8:00 am saying that the unit Xic is in is going to try to force him through his "medical shit." Short back story: Xic has been told he may have sleep apnea and needs a sleep study. Therefore he can't deploy for his two week time when it hits. He has an appointment for the referral on Monday and they'll schedule his sleep study as soon as they can. May be a week, may be a month, may be more. So I kind of get pissy and rant to Xic about it. Spouting off the condition, how it's a risk to speed through it all, and they can't send him out against a medical profile, blah, blah, fuckity blah. Yeah, so that got out of my system quick. Sorry, Xic! Yeah, take note that that will probably be the only time I apologize.

Day goes on, not much happens. Same shit, different day. Nyx and Nox fight over toys, books, blankets... If you have kids, you know that after a while, you only respond if there's the sound of something breaking, you smell smoke, or hear the blood curdling scream that says something is wrong. Every other cry gets the "Work it out yourself" response. Most of the time. Well my little demons have taken their fights to the next level. Level: Toddler Epic. What's Toddle Epic? That would be the smashing books, toys, and whatever else they can get their grubby little hands on over the other one's head. On. Purpose. Not like the normal "What happens if I do this?" but the "You took my toy? Oh Hell no!" hit. This one I respond to because I hear the smack followed by the "Oh my gawd, the sky is falling" cry. If that isn't enough, they now push each other off of the bed. While standing and jumping. Or climb on the toy bin and push the other off. 

I yelled at a neighbor, or visitor I don't know or care, today. We have assigned parking here for some spots. Xic is gone and our space is open. So what do you think doucher did? Yep, parked in our spot right in front of our garage clearly marked with our apartment number/letter. Douchwaffle isn't even in our building so there's no excuse. So I go down and say, as nicely as I can since my uterus is about to go nuclear on me, that he can't park in our space and will need to move as I am expecting my husband back soon. It wasn't a lie either, Xic should would have been back within an hour. So SlimEnDim says "I can park where ever the fuck I want to park. No trick bitch can make me move!" Oh buddy, you just fucked up. So I reply, again as nicely and now sarcastically, "If you stay in out spot my husband will end up blocking you in. But hey, you're call." As I start to walk away he yells, "If he does, then I'll just ram his fucking car out of my way when I leave!" Twitchy face, clinched fists, and ready to throw down I say, "Fine. You do that. Oh, but if you don't move your car in 3 fucking minutes, I will call the tow company and have it removed. If my husband gets back and you ram his car, be prepared to have your car tagged, buckets of paint poured on it, the windows smashed, tires slashed, bloody fucking tampons and pads glues to it, and rancid shitty diapers smeared on the inside and left. I have a diaper genii filled with them. Your move, asshole." His jaw dropped and he immediately moved his car without a single word spoken after that. Okay, maybe my day wasn't that boring. I'm just use to this shit.

Xic had to go back to base and now I'm waiting for him to get home. In theory he should have been back, or at least on his way, by now. Gotta love the military. So I'm sitting here, listening to the sounds our neighbor kids fighting and can't help but laugh at the mom saying they fight worse than any other siblings. I doubt that. I think for now, Nyx and Nox hold the title of "Craziest Sibling Fights". Or is it normal for toddlers to slam each other's head into the walls leaving dents and laughing after it's over?

Friday, August 10, 2012

Where in the World is Hekate Jahi?

I wasn't around much today, Minions. Why? Nyx is sick. She started running a fever around noon today. Well, that's when I noticed it. They took a nap and she was fine when they laid down. I thought teething, but no. It's causing her to run a temp that's over 103, she's cranky as Hell, lethargic, and doesn't want to do anything. Well, except cry. A lot. Even when I sit and hold her, dance with her, sing to her, lay down with her... You get the picture. Anyway, called the doc and they said just watch her I've done all that can be done right now. She's asleep now. Poor kid. 

This brings me to a version of Facebook Whores I would love to high five. In the face. With a fucking sledge hammer. Since there are so many Facebook Whores, I'll explain this type.

My Kid is Sick, Fell Sorry for Me (whineacus maximus per attentionous whoreicus):

This not so elusive creature of habit repeats their patterns often. They tend to have three or more kids that are very close in age. Stair steps, if you will. The ones born almost nine months apart and usually have no manners and are hyper little fuckers that break every damn thing in your house when visiting all while the parent sits drinking all your pop and/or booze and eating all your food.

One day one of her kids gets sick with a cold. You'd think the kids was dying.

"OMG Little Timmy just sneezed! I hate having sick kids! =("

Bitch, please. A sneeze could be anything from allergies to random sneezing. But what do we do? Comment saying something like "Aww, sorry hun. Get well soon Timmy!" and "Like" her status. Which begs the question, are you liking that her kid is sick or because you understand? Maybe there should be an "I Understand" button...

Anyway, a few minutes latter we see something like :

"Little Timmy is coughing now. Wish he wasn't soooo sick. =("

Okay, who would wish their kid was sick? No one you fucking cunt! So what do most of us do? Like and comment again saying "That suck! How bad is it?" Why the Hell do people egg this on? So again, a few minutes later we see something like this:

"OMG What do I do? Little Timmy JUST threw up!"

Still, you get one crazy fucker who likes the status. Why? Seriously, why would you like that? Whatever, back to needy bitch. First off, GET THE FUCK OFF FACEBOOK! Bitch, we can tell when it's posted mobile and when it's from the computer. All status updates have been from your damn computer! Second, if Little Timmy is so fucking sick, don't expect Lassie to run and fetch the doctor! Come on, you have to be laughing now if you get that reference. If you don't, you're probably too fucking young or sheltered to be here and need to leave. Anyway, people comment again with advice. Ginger ale, crackers, toast, pepto, and all that. Then there's the one logical, or fed up, person who comments "Uh, duh! Call the doctor or take him in..." Thank you, random logical person. I think I love you.

If you haven't unfriended or hidden all post from this person yet, you're bound to see this:

"OMG JUST looked up his symptoms on WEB MD and found out 
he may have cancer! What am I going to do?"

Insert epic facepalm. I hate Web MD with a fucking passion. That damned symptom checker thing is a joke! So now you have unfriended or hidden posts, if not, you're a fucking moron or a smart ass who wants to stir shit up for laughs. If you're like me you reply with "OMG Are you sure? I heard Gonasyphiherpalitis has been going around and it's bad!" Hey, I need something to write about, might as well fuck with some random idiot and get something good. Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm a fucking bitch. 

A few minutes later you see, posted from the web still, that she's at the ER with Little Timmy. Hmm... Not mobile, not from Blackberry, not from iPhone, no location tag, nothing indicting it's from a phone. Plus it's only been a minute or two since the cancer post and you know there's no way in Hell that bitch got her kid to the ER that fast unless she can teleport. But there's still a few idiots who still pity this fucking cunt rag and wish her luck and say they'll be praying for her. Congratufuckinglations, you just played right into her trap. After a few minutes we here Little Timmy is all better and is miraculously cured! Hooray! No more drama from mamma! Until the next day when it happens. ALL. OVER. AGAIN. This time with Sweet Sandy. Then the next day with Baby Brad. And however many other kids this twat has. All get "cured" with never seeing a doctor. Then maybe there's a day or two of a break and it starts all over.

My point? Bitch, if your kid or kids are so damned sick get your lazy, twatwaffle ass off of Facebook and do something! Don't sit a phish for fucking sympathy and comments. And if your kid wasn't sick, stop fucking playing like they are. Because one day they will get sick and nobody will fucking care. Of course, most of us don't give two fucks now. We just want to watch the world burn and hope you die a slow and horribly painful death.


Thursday, August 9, 2012


Minions, every once in a while I'll rant about douchewaffles, twatwaffles, and complete fucking jackasses I encounter, but this takes the fucking cake one fucking idiot and wins the Fucked Up Parent Award in my book!

I hate the news because it's fucking depressing as Hell, but this caught my eye and as a parent I am screaming at my computer "What the fuck was he thinking?!?" Seriously! Now I have rode a few motorcycles in my time, some as a kid and some as an adult, but never would I think, nor would any sane mother fucking person, put a one-year-old baby between the handle bars and themselves! A child that age can't even hold on for piggy back rides well, what the Hell was this "father" thinking? On top of that, he was going over the 10 MPH limit set in their complex! Was he actively trying to kill himself and his child? Was this just a lapse of judgment on his part? Was he drunk and not thinking clearly? Seriously! 

I know the boys mother is in Hell right now morning the death of her baby boy, and I do feel bad for her. No parent should have to go through that. Ever. But where was she when this was going on? Did she allow the guy to do this? Was she at work and had no idea? If she didn't know, then I feel even worse for her. How the fuck ever, if she knew this was going on and didn't fucking try to stop this shit, she's just as much to blame as the father.

As for Douche-bag Dad, he may feel guilty about this, but he's the fucking moron who did this shit and put his son's life in danger and it cost a little boy his life! That's something you just don't do as a parent! You spend your every waking moment protecting your kids! You do everything in your power to keep them safe! I hope he's haunted every fucking day with the image of his son's last moments alive. I hope he lives in fucking torment knowing he killed his son. And I hope they press charges against him and put him in prison for reckless endangerment and vehicular homicide! On top of that, I hope every fucking person in the prison he's in finds out what he did and throws him a blanket party!

Am I pissed off? Damn right I am! And it's not even my child or a relative! Imagine what the fuck I would do and say if it were? If Xic ever pulled a stunt like that, he would hope he died from injuries because I would be his worst fucking nightmare and he knows it. I swear, fucking people need a licence to have kids!

I hope the mother of this boy didn't know that the dad was doing this. I really do. Because if she knew, she should be charged with reckless endangerment and an accessory to homicide and deserves the same fucking treatment as the dad. If they manage to work a deal and get a slap on the wrist sentence, they better hope I never meet them or see them walking in my town, because I will beat the shit out of them and torture them for days before ending their life in a slow and painful way. Again, I'm not even related to this baby and I have these feelings. I get this way with every report I hear about a child being abused or killed.

If you don't agree with me, that's fine. That's your right. But this is my blog and I'll voice my opinion and thoughts about whatever I want. Don't expect an apology from me, either.

I'm done for now. I'm going to give Nyx and Nox their bath now and hug them extra tight tonight before they push me, proceed to tackle me from behind, and use me as their personal tree to climb. And I'll love every second of it even though I'll complain at the time.


Is it Monday?

It's nap time in the Goth house so I figured now would be a good time to start writing and hope I finish before the Gothlings wake up. Today has been the day from Hell so far which begs the question, "Is it Monday?" Let's start from the beginning, shall we?

7:30 am Nyx and Nox woke up. I could hear them banging on the wall. I hoped it was someone outside and that they were still asleep, but the soon let out a squeal that let me know it was them. So I get up and start breakfast. As I oven the freezer shit starts falling out for no reason. The fuck? Was there an earthquake that shifted this shit while I was asleep? No, no earthquake. Now our freezer is packed in a way that nothing would just fall out. Chalk it up to randomness.

Breakfast is ready and I open the doors to let the demons run to the dining area. They eat like they never get food. Soon after they finish, Nox starts throwing a fit. Nothing could console this child. So is it just a bad day for her? No... Soon Nyx follows with her crying and throwing herself on the floor in epic fashion and wails. Okay, bad day for the both of them.

Yesterday they were working on our parking lot so we had to park on the street. This morning we were allowed to move our cars back. Keep in mind we had just moved our cars 24 hours ago. I go to start the Beast (my car for now). Nothing. Seriously? We just had a new battery put in a few months ago and the alternator checked out great. It's a five year battery, what the Hell is going on? Xic decides he wants to try to start it. Yeah, like I'd fucking lie about the damn thing not starting and that it's the battery. What do I know? I only grew up around mechanics. Must just be a guy thing. Guess what? It. Didn't. Start. Surprise, surprise.

So he grabs his keys and pulls his car up beside mine and we jump start it. Fucking POS car. If we could, I'd trade that bitch in today. Sadly I have to wait. So we have two cars, but only one runs. Awesome. What else you got, Thursday?

Cranky toddlers all day so far, a car that's an over-sized paperweight, and my pain meds stopped working about 20 minutes ago and I have a massive migraine on top of my back letting me know I can, and will, cry like a bitch. Could I take more meds? Sure, but I choose to wait until the kids are in bed for the night so I can relax and if I rack the fuck out, it's okay because no one will need me at that point.

The good news is, Xic will be home more in the evenings starting Monday for at least four weeks and will soon be making twice what he makes right now. September 7th he has an interview with a place he really wants to work and I hope he gets it. It would mean we have to move, but it would be to a safer place all around. I'm sick of renting and want to start making payment to a place that will be ours. I don't care where it is, as long as we're together, happy, healthy, and there's at least a Walmart. Funny ass shit happens at Walmart, Minions. And let's face it, I'm the crazy, creepy, weird ass neighbor.


Wednesday, August 8, 2012

A Little History Lesson of Hekate

No, not the real Hekate, but me. Maybe one day I will explain why I use Hekate Jahi as my name, but not tonight. I've taken my meds and may be out cold soon. The past few days I have mentioned I'm on Vicodin. Let me clarify why before people start thinking what my doctor thought before even seeing me. Yeah, I can hear some of you thinking "Pill popping junkie."

In 1994 I had a horse. Yes, a horse. I am Native American and lived on a reservation. You had to have a horse. It was almost mandatory. Anyway, I was worried about hurting my horse and chose not to use a saddle and be like my ancestors. I rode bareback. This takes strength and skill when you run with your horse. It may look easy, but it's not.

So one day I hop onto Lightening and on this day, things went bad. He freaked out for some reason and took off running before I was ready. He bucked, reared up, bucked again, and I fell. I landed on my back and heard The Oracle yell to roll. As I rolled onto my stomach, Lightening began to stomp on me. He hit my left knee, my right wrist, and worst of all my lower back. Lucky for me he hadn't been shoed yet, meaning he didn't have horseshoes on him. When you live on land like we had, it wasn't necessary, and that may have saved me from being paralyzed or killed. Sadly, though, no one took the injury serious at the hospital and didn't even x-ray my back. Fucked up, right? I thought so.

Fast forward a few years and I'm at a neurologist for a follow-up on my epilepsy. Hey, I never said I was a 100% healthy Goth. As he's doing his exam he checks my back. I have scoliosis. Fucking awesome. Still, no one cares I was stepped on by a horse. No big deal, I guess. This same year, I'm a passenger in a car wreck. I get taken to the hospital via ambulance and they check my neck. Nothing broken, but I have the start of degenerative disc disease. Not good when you're just a teen. Still no checking of my lower back. 

A year later, I am playing tackle baseball with my cousin and some friends. Yes, tackle baseball. We made shit up when we got bored. I go to tackle my cousin, who out weighs me by almost 50 lbs, and he ends up causing us to fall backwards and my neck twists and pops. SHIT!!! He jumps up and freaks out asking if I'm okay. I. Can't. Move. This is bad. Very fucking bad. The ambulance gets there and I'm taken to the same hospital that shrugged off my horse accident. Great. They do a CT of my neck and x-ray my back. Torn muscle in my neck and my back has a 13 degree curvature in two spots. Plus the disc in my upper back lack normal spacing from the degenerative disc. They put me through physical therapy and I'm sent packing. 

Years later I've had kids, and after Nyx and Nox I started having real problems. I had fallen in the past, but now I fell down stairs. More than once. My legs were going numb as well as my arms, my feet hurt and burned, and I couldn't sit or stand for long at all. I go to the doc who orders a MRI of my lower back. Scoliosis, degenerative disc, and herniated disc from L4 to S1, and that's just my lower back. I may have more. It's been a year since I found out and I have never been on pain medication for it. I did have injections near my spine. Three rounds of no less than 12 shots each time. It didn't help and my body wouldn't heal. Now I'm experiencing what could be nerve damage from it. I have just been prescribed Vicodin, one pill twice a day as well as put back on my seizure medication. My doctor said "You've been suffering for too long. You need this."

I will make fun of myself for being on it because it makes me semi hyper and I do and say funny ass shit. If I can't laugh at myself, then I fail. I hope you all find it funny too.  I writes these posts to vent and say what I'm thinking when no one is here to talk or if I don't want to stress Xic anymore than he already is. 

I hope you're enjoying my rants and randomness. If you have any ideas or want to share a rant, email me at Please feel free to share this as well as my Facebook page Random Rantings of a Goth Mom. Goodnight, Minions.


The Never-ending Havoc that is Nyx and Nox

I love my demon babies. Really, I do. These two little Gothlings of mine, by doctor opinions, shouldn't be here. Between past illnesses I've had as well as injuries I've incurred in my life I shouldn't have had kids at all. But me being the stubborn ass that I am, I set out to prove everyone wrong. But so help me, some days I wonder if they're not really "Heaven Sent" and are truly "Demon Babies".

Xic and I call them our "demons" with all the love in the world. We know they're crazy, hyper, destructive, cannibalistic at times, and... What was I saying? Oh right, we know they're trouble, but they're ours and we love them no matter what. Matter of fact, as I've started writing this, I've had to stop them from literally climbing up the wall and to the window. Double trouble is an understatement.

Baby proofing our home has become pointless. They find a way around everything or figure out how to get shit undone. Like outlet protectors. You know the little annoying plug things that are a fucking bitch for you to get out unless you have a crowbar? Baby proof my ass. More like adult proof. Our demons figured those fucking things out on day one! Seriously! I can't fucking stop these two. 

A few months ago Nyx got one of the protectors out and stuck her finger that she had just been chewing on in the damned plug. Guess what happened? She got shocked! I hear that high pitched cry that tells everyone in a 1000 mile radius that she is fucking hurt. I run and jump over our baby gate. It's a walk through gate, but I didn't have time to fuck with that bitch ass lock. My baby was hurt. I get to her and check her over. She was fine, no burns or obvious injury. I'm thinking maybe she learned her lesson, but still put the protectors back in to try and keep them safe. I was wrong. Nyx does the same fucking thing not even two minutes later just at a different spot. Guess she thought "Okay, that one hurts, maybe this one won't." Sorry, sweetie. It doesn't work that way.

Nox started climbing one day and got on top of the changing table in their room one morning shortly after she woke up. Can you say heart attack? She's just sitting there tossing stuff down to Nyx but kept the cool shit for herself. She then climbed back up two more times that day. That night, the changing table was taken out of their room. Nothing left but a box for toys and their toddler beds.

Fast forward to the past two months. It's been hot, so we've been putting fans in our windows since our apartment doesn't have air conditioning. What do you think happens when you put a fan in the window of Nyx and Nox's room? They pull the cord and yank the fan right out of said window. Over and over again. So what do I do? Break out my inner redneck. We all have one, you just have to embrace it and know when to use it.

Since normal baby proofing fails, I resort to this:

Damn straight I duct taped the changing table pad over the cord and outlet! Sadly I know this won't last long, but I'm hoping they get the point after I tactically place a huge ass teddy bear in front of it. You'll have to excuse me now. My MMA fighters just slammed into the wall and let out a very frustrated yell.


Tuesday, August 7, 2012

What Time is it?

More like Xic, Hekate, and the Gothlings

If you're a mom, or even a nerd, you probably yelled out "Adventure Time!" If not, fuck you. That's a pretty cool ass show right along with Regular Show. Anyway, there's a reason for the title. Ever heard of Geocashing? It's like hide-and-seek with boxes of stuff using a GPS to find it. Well Xic and I picked up this hobby last year. He had been wanting to do it for a while so I bought him a handheld GPS for Christmas. Yeah, I'm a kick ass wife.

Well today we went on one of these adventures that was a seven part quest. It was fun, challenging, and yet some what annoying. Let me take my meds and then I'll finish this story... 

Okay, where was I? Oh yeah, our quest to Mordor. Shut up, that was fucking funny. So this morning we start our journey to the first coordinance. We make it there and have to start by counting planks on a picnic table, then the bolts, add one into something, multiply it by this, and get N 55 55.XXX then take the other and add, subtract, divide and get W 55 55.XXX. Fucking math, Minions! I have no problem with it but, seriously, it was a lot. Anyway, we make it to spot two using what we figured out. Perfect! Hekate still rocks on her math. Spot two has us count windows, letters, columns, pipes, then start adding, subtracting, multiplying, and dividing all over again. I still got this! Even though people were bitching on the website that the math wasn't right or it was too hard, we had no problems at all. Guess these other douchers were just bad at math or forgot how to count. Or lazy...

Okay, spot three, same thing. Find a sign with numbers, count cables, start math. Got it, good, on to the next spot! Except it was in a state park and we had to pay to get in. No problem, they take cards... Damn it! Fucking closed and it's cash or check. Okay, back home, pick up the check book, and feed the Gothlings while we're at it since it was lunch time. They eat and we leave again. By the way, this entire time I'm tripping balls on the Vicodin I was prescribed yesterday. EPIC! I started laughing at random shit and had the most fucked up squeaky ass laugh at one point. I scared myself. But I digress.

Back to the park and guess what? The fucking window is open and they're taking cards now. Whatever, it's cool. We pay, go in, get the next clue. More numbers, more math, time to move to spot five. This one was on the side of the road. Add letters up, take down number, do math, move on. Spot six was just down the road and we're almost done! Six is the same thing, add letters, math, move on. It's all on foot from here.

We put Nyx and Nox in the jogging stroller and set out. Now me being somewhat smart, I sprayed the Gothlings and myself with bug spray before leaving, but I failed to wear pants. This was my epic fail of the day. Xic refused to put on bug spray. Whatever, you're blood guy. So we start our 3/4 mile hike to the last spot. Oh, and let me say I felt like Deadpool carrying a machete on my back and welding it on the last leg of this trip. BAD. ASS.

The trail is muddy in spots and rough, plus there's tall grass and brush all along the side. Still, family fun and exercise. It's all gravy. Xic is pushing the stroller and we start heading into the wooded area. Guess what we ran into? Mosquitoes! Fucking shit ton of big ass, suck your fucking blood dry, mosquitoes. Good thing I sprayed us all down, right? Oh yeah, except for Xic. Sucks to be him. The fuck! I'm getting attacked too? Fucking mutant ass bugs! I cover Nyx and Nox and start going all Mosquito Ninja on any and every fucking flying insect near them. I got to the point where I fucking said, "I offer myself as tribute!" Yes, I am a nerd. Fucking problem? Didn't think so.

Xic heads down a path the stroller wouldn't make to finish out our journey as I continue to kick mosquito ass. He yells back "Head for the clearing! I'll catch up!" so back up the hill we go still swinging at the dive bombing fuckers as I go. Once we get to the clearing we're in the green zone. Xic catches up, tosses me the keys and says head back to the car, another 3/4 mile hike back, and he'll return the cashe to the spot and catch back up. As he fades back into the mosquito haze, we trek forward to car. Once he catches back up, we load the Gothlings in and leave.

Poor Xic is all scratched up from plants and shit, I got one actual bite on my shoulder, and all we got was a magnet. A fucking magnet. These people need to put cooler shit in the fucking boxes! Assholes.

In other news, Verin is now halfway to his black belt in Karate and in joining a tournament class. The boy takes his training serious, too. I'm proud of him, but fear he may teach his sisters how to really break a door. That's all I need... Oh, and since my meds kicked in, I'm tripping balls again and have no clue what I'm talking about anymore and figure it's time to just STFU until tomorrow. 


Monday, August 6, 2012

Pillow Talk

This is a REAL conversation between Xic and me last night and today. What follows may be hazardous to your health. Side effects from reading this post can include: Uncontrollable laughter, snorting, liquids flowing from your nose, the "Seal" laugh (laughing to hard no sound comes out and you just smile, nod, and clap), difficulty breathing, and possible need for CPR. Continue at your own risk. Blogger is not responsible for any injuries that occur and has no money for you to sue for.

Hekate: Fucking Hell! It's too fucking hot! I can't breathe... Fuck!

Xic: Are you going to fucking stop saying fuck? You say it too fucking much for fuck's sake!

Hekate: Fuck no! I fucking love saying fuck and will fucking continue to say fuck all I fucking want. It's a free fucking country, fucker!

Xic: Well fucking fine then, fucker!

Hekate: I fucking love you!

Xic: I fucking love you too! Bedroom?

Hekate: Fuck yeah!

Xic: Blog this fucking shit.

Any questions on why I fucking love this man?

Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde and Hekate

Yes, Minions, even Goths visit the doc every now and then. Today was a fun little adventure that turned out far different than I expected.

I'm not exactly a morning person, per-say, but if you're going to the doctor mornings are best. Monday mornings are just Hell. Who wants to go to the doc first thing of a morning on a Monday? Apparently, this Goth. I have nothing better to do, right?

Okay, Monday morning doc. I leave the Gothlings with Xic. Smart right? Damn straight. It was his idea. I get in the car (no it's not a hearse) and get the GPS set. What? I haven't been to this quack before and, as much of a bad ass I am, I don't want to be late or get lost. Now shut up and stop laughing, fuckers! Thanks...

Get the GPS set, and in true Monday fashion, it takes me to the wrong fucking address! Well played, GPS. Well played. So I get it set to the correct address, which was only a few blocks the other way, and still get there early. I fucking rock.

Get there, sign in, fill out my autobiography, sign my life away, and wait to be called. And I wait to be called... And I WAIT TO BE CALLED! My appointment was at 9:30 am, I showed up at 9:13 am, and I don't get called back until 10:15. This is normal, right? Sure, if the office was busy as fuck. But it's Monday morning and dead. Seriously. I'm the only fucking person in the damned waiting room. And they wonder why my blood pressure is "a little high" when the check it.

So I get back to the cold, clinical, funky smelling room. What the Hell is that smell anyway? Soap and sanitizer mixed with pine air freshener and alcohol with a hint of lemon and lavender? Sensory fucking overload! 

After Sneezeapaloza 2012 took a short intermission, Vampire Nurse wants my blood. Fun times. I'm the type of stick that sucks. Why? Tiny ass veins that roll and hide. Seriously, they have to use the baby needles on my shrimp ass veins. Hell, Nyx and Nox have bigger, better veins than me! Yes, I'm jealous, because blood draws suck for me. So Vamp here gets me set up and I'm waiting for that bite you feel as the needle pierces through your skin and into your waiting vein... Nothing. I look up as she says, "Apply pressure here for a minute." Damn, Vamp Nurse is good. Now I wait for Dr. Jekyll but expect Mr. Hyde. That's my luck. So I wait...

30 fucking minutes later, my troll looking Dr. Jekyll walks in. Not the cute troll doll troll, the under the bridge, I'm going to eat your soul, looking troll. Then I see it has to be Mr. Hyde. Until he speaks. "What can I do for you, Mrs. Goth?" Pleasant enough voice for an old dude. Okay, so Dr. Jekyll's personality in Mr. Hyde's body. Guess it's better than the other way around, right?

No I explain to not-so-hot-doc about my herniated disc and the past treatments I've had and how I've never been on any pain meds for it. EVER. Poor shocked doc writes me up a referral to a neurosurgeon and says he's going to write me a script for pain relief. I'm thinking oral steroids for inflammation, nope. Dr. Jekyll hands me a paper with Vicodin (APAP/ Hydrocodone) 1 pill, twice daily written on it. Huh? Guess it showed on my face I was confuzeled because he looks at me so serious, puts one hand on my shoulder and says "You need this." Uh... Say what? Is it that bad? It has to be when a medical doctor who, at first, thought you were a drug seeking junkie and almost refused to see you says you need something like Vicodin.

So, until I visit the neurosurgeon and determine what course of action or surgery I'm going to need, I will be even more hilarious than normal. Vicodin makes me hyper, happy, and funny as fuck! You all should enjoy the future blogs...


Sunday, August 5, 2012

A Bad Day to be Goth

I'm not saying it's bad to be Goth. I love being Goth. It's part of who I am. But there are days that you just can't be full on Goth. Like yesterday, today, and possible all this week for some time. Why? It's just too damn hot!

Holy shit, minions! I'm melting over here! I am so use to cool temps when I wake up and cloudy, sometimes rainy, days. It's been so warm here the past few days that I have thought about becoming a nudest, but even then I wouldn't be cool enough.

I miss central air. I use to be able to handle the heat and hated the cold. I am one who could never get warm enough, even if I were standing in the fireplace. Call it hormone fluctuations, call it change in preference, call it whatever you want, but this Goth can't take the heat anymore! I am giving up wearing black until it fucking cools down. Not even a black tank top!

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to crawl back into my freezer since the morgue kicked me out. And yes, that was a joke. I did try to hang out in a butcher's meat locker once, though...