Dear Apartment Complex:

I am writing this blog/letter/complaint to you and for everyone who has to deal with places like you.

Let's be honest here, the only reason Xic and I decided to move into your place was because all of our other options were either craptacular places or in banjo picking territory. We signed the lease and have followed all the rules to date. We told you when we moved in that we had two cars, you said "No problem. If your garage is full, like most people here, you can park one car in front of the garage and the other in one of the spots on the side." Awesome! No big deal. And then my car crapped out. So Xic and I moved it to the street to open a spot for someone else. We didn't park in that spot for months. One neighbor thought I actually left Xic and took the kids with me. That's how long that spot was open. No one parked there. EVER.

Last month Xic bought me a new car for Christmas. We came back home on December 21st with two cars. I parked in front of the garage and Xic parked in the other spot that no one used. Made more since since he works and leaves almost every day. Guess what happens when he leaves? No one parks in that spot.

You and all your employees drive by here often. You see we're always on the move. So why did you feel the need to leave a note on our door this morning before your office even opened saying we are contributing to the parking problem at our building? Someone fucking complained and I know just what pussy ass, coward bitch said shit too. The middle aged hermit, dried up bitch on the ground floor. We're the only people with two cars, so I know it was directed toward us. Why write a fucking letter? Why not just, oh I don't know, ASK us. Xic works the graveyard shift this week and next but I am always home. You have our number, you could have called and told us that someone was complaining, though I don't know why. What, is she expecting and over sized dildo to be delivered? Because I know for a fact that old smokey back there doesn't get any fucking visitors. Troll face couldn't pay people to visit her! Even Hell Hound runs when he sees her! The fucking community cat wouldn't even go near her and hissed at her when she looked at him! The fuck does that tell you?

I am so fucking glad that we found a new place to move to and can't wait for our lease to be up! Sure we'd have to pay $50 more a month for rent, but we'd get an extra bedroom, more square feet, a patio/balcony, storage room, they have three pools, a hot tub, a tanning bed, fitness center, theater, a playground, and on site movie rental. You don't even have a pool. All you have is... Wait, I know this... OH! A water hose you call a car wash. Gee, I'm so going to miss living here. 

I will come back to visit one of my neighbors, though. That will be the only thing I actually miss.

~Hekate

P.S. Have fun with the carpet in Nyx and Nox's room. When they were sick, they puked and shit on the carpet. LMAO Then there's always the door they tore down. >=D

Doctor! Doctor! Give Me the News...

I've got a bad case of wanting to punch you! Yeah, remember back I was talking about my doctor who seemed like he wanted to help me, get me in with a neurosurgeon to fix my herniated disc? Yeah, not so happy with him now...

Yesterday I went back for a follow-up and here's what he said:

      "I don't think the problem is in your back. I want to do a nerve conduction test because I think you have a lesion on a nerve in your leg. Plus, you don't need to get addicted to pain pills"

1.  I NEVER ASKED FOR PAIN MEDS, YOU JACKASS!
2. How the fuck is a lesion on a leg nerve going to cause pain IN MY BACK?
3. You want me to get a huge ass needle shoved into various parts of my leg and shock the nerves again and think I'm going to be okay with that? FUCK YOU!

I'm beginning to think you're just trying to milk me for money now, doc. Guess what? Not. Going. To. Happen. Why would I subject myself to the same fucking test again that showed there was no fucking lesion on any fucking nerve in my leg? They also checked on an MRI for nerve lesions as well as brain lesions. Guess what it showed? NOTHING. No lesions anywhere. 

But hey, what do I know? I'm just the bitch who has the pain in her fucking back that radiates down her legs to her feet and also down my fucking arms. How could that possibly be a problem in my back? You know what they did find on my MRI? A herniated fucking disc. Know what I had done for said problem? Physical Therapy, X-Ray Guided Epidural Injections, rest, massage, and then Vicodin from you. 

I have exhausted every fucking solution for the fucking problem and was told by the doc who gave me the injections "These did not work at all. You need surgery." I was told by you "You need surgery." Now you're telling me it's not my fucking back at all? You sound like a doc I had before who called me a "Fainting Goat" because I have an arrhythmia in my heart. He also started that conversation with "How many kids do you have and how old are the little bastards?" and followed with "You don't even have HIV. What's a girl like you suppose to do?" Know what happened to that doc? He got fired and was lucky I didn't spork his fucking eyes out. I would have bitten his jugular and drank his blood but I didn't want to catch his smug attitude. Fucking House wannabe.

So doc, what to do with you? Should I call my insurance and tell them I need/want a second opinion or let you subject me to a battery of tests that will show what they have in the past and be inconclusive? I'll fucking humor you one time and get this fucking painful ass test done. How the fuck ever, if it shows the same damn thing it did in the past, I'm switching doc faster than you can say "Turn your head and cough."

Twitchy Face, Clinched Fists, and Ready to Explode

Okay,  recently I came out to my family and friends as being bisexual. Soon everyone will see why I didn't tell anyone for 16 fucking years! Good thing I don''t give a fuck who I piss off now and if you're reading this and find out it's about you, GOOD!


Okay, I called The Oracle and Matrix and let them know that I was bi. After shock and awe wore off it came to the "Okay, you're still you" state and then it was like nothing changed. Good right? You would think so...


So I posted on Facebook because I don't care who knows now. If you love and respect me, you'll support me no matter what I say. How the fuck ever if you want to be a fucking twatwaffle bitch who loves drama and lives for it, you Skype me. And this is what happened so far.


We'll call this "family" member Sassy. Sassy calls and I answer. Sassy then asks what I posted on Facebook. Knowing that she can clearly read it, I go ahead and answer her with "What, that I'm bisexual?" I then get a somewhat toned down version of why the fuck would I post it on Facebook. Who the fuck cares, bitch? I'm not ashamed and not hiding it anymore. Obviously I don't care if people know. I then get a broken up lecture of sorts about how "My family doesn't care, you are who you are" and how I'm, guessing, a bad person for not coming out sooner to my family. Again, you care and matter because...


Well I'm guessing I pissed her off with my reason for not coming out sooner: Fear of being exiled from my family and made to feel like I'm a horrible person. Keep in mind here I was in junior high when I knew, and felt like if I came out I would get kicked out of my house with nowhere to go. What would you do? Stay in the fucking closet is what I chose. My choice here, sweet cheeks. Oh, and no, that wasn't a fucking come on. Sorry, but you don't do it for me. No hard feelings, right?


Okay, your family is understanding. Mine was not at the time. Get it? If I was in your family, I wouldn't have felt the need to hide it. In my family, I felt it was better to keep it secret. Oh, are you bisexual? Are you gay? No? Then how the fuck do you expect to relate to what I'm feeling at any given fucking moment here, twat? Yeah, shut the fuck up, sit down, and keep your damn mouth shut until I'm fucking done. Oh, and I do have the fucking balls to say all of this to your face. Not over Skype, not over the phone, not email, not just here, not Facebook... IN. PERSON. You already know I can get pissed. I believe I shut you up once or twice before when you though I was a pansy ass pushover. See, I let you see only what I wanted you to see. It's called a bluff. Your's sucks. Just sayin'.


Anyway, as I'm about to fucking explain to this mother fucking twit why I did what I did, the call breaks up and drops. Well, maybe. I she could have just played like it was breaking up and just hung up because she wants to play Billie Bad Ass to her "fiance'". Whatever, don't care. But let me say this: People like you are why I didn't say anything. Because even though Xic knows, my family knows now, and your family as well, you are the only one who seems to have a problem with it. So what if I waited 16, 17, or 30 fucking years? The only one giving me grief about it is YOU. Now, ask me how many fucks I give. Uh, none. You know why? Because YOU don't matter to ME. You are nothing. You bitch about how Xic doesn't call you... Could it be that he has no respect for you because you're a drop out, ex-stripper, pot head who seems to pick fights with his wife? No? Maybe it's because you're nothing but drama? No? Oh, I know! Because you're just a bitch that doesn't really matter to us! Again, no hard feelings, right?


Oh, just to be clear: I. DO. NOT. WANT. TO. LICK. YOUR. PANOOCH. Got it? Good. Now piss off, wanker!


~Hekate