Cat's Rants - Confessions of an Occult Mastermind

The Whole Bedbug, Cat v Landlord Story, and what it means to you

Hey everyone,

So for starters, I have 3 bottles of bedbug inflammatory confusion and no addresses to send them to. If you ordered one of these, please let me know ASAP. I will be giving a partial refund for the inconvenience of the wait (basically you get refunded minus the small shipping fee of $4 or $5,) and then I will stop feeling awful because your addresses got away from me when I cleaned up. :P

Next, let's talk about my horrid last year and a half or more. As I've told many of you before, the now ex Mr NinjaCat had and has severe mental illness problems. This was for a long time actually not a huge problem. About once a year, he would decide everything was "poison," and this would go on for 1-3 weeks, was relatively predictable and more annoying than anything else. Like I'd buy milk and about 2 hours later he'd tell me the milk tasted funny. I'd taste it and it was fine. He would insist it had been poisoned. So I'd buy a new jug of milk, and this would repeat itself. What was happening was that Ex-Mr NC has Bipolar Disorder, and he was experiencing a mania. While some people get an epic high fun mania, his are not. They are full of delusions and suspicions. However, if he was just going to decide milk and stuff was poison, and for a brief time once a year, he was so fun and loveable the rest of the time that I really couldn't pass up being with him, and hell, as I said...it was annoying and weird but predictable and brief. 

The other issue my ex had was borderline personality disorder. This was also mostly annoying. When it reared it's ugly little head, I'd remind myself that (ex) Mr NinjaCat had a pretty bullshit childhood, and it was to be expected that he'd not come out of it unscathed. Since this is sadly a relatively common issue, I had some experience dealing with people who suffer from this disorder, and it wasn't a deal killer... My ex is incredibly handsome and charming, and that took the edge off.

In the fall of 2019, I began to notice a troubling change in my ex. He was short-tempered, unaffectionate, rude, and hanging out with people I would not suggest anyone hang out with. He also began to dislike foods that he had previously always wanted. At first, I just assumed he was maybe having a touch of mental health issues, because...he has mental health issues, as I said, and that the cycle of them was changed. As his behavior worsened, I was to discover he was no longer on his medication for his issues, and he admitted that part of the lapse was that his doctor was no longer seeing him as she had moved. So we tried to set up appointments for him around my birthday which is around Thanksgiving, and they offered to see him in TWO MONTHS.

Now, you would think if someone with bipolar disorder says "I need my medication and I'm having a very hard time of things," that they are going to do something quickly, right? Nope, no meds, and an appointment in TWO MONTHS.

And things got much, much, much worse. He began to take my money (outright stealing it in some cases,) to fund himself, while telling everyone, including his own family that it was his. He didn't have a job and had not had one in well over a year, so this was pretty bold of him, but his own family did not believe him, because...well, I told them, he's increasingly acting scary. When returning home from my parent's house on Christmas, he freaked out, pulled over sharply to the side of the highway, almost killing us, and demanded I get out of the car. When I went to do so, he barely decided to drive us back to Portland...and he did stuff like that over and over and over. He was always angry, and it was increasingly focused on me. He is a very big, very strong man, and he decided I was the author of all of his issues. This was particularly troubling for everyone, because I did EVERYTHING for my ex. I took care of him, and spoiled him. Now he was doing things like staying up for three days and waking me up every 20 minutes to tell me something was poison. He would refuse to let me leave the bedroom and would threaten me if I tried to. This got increasingly scary until one morning I was sleeping and I woke up to him grabbing me by the back of the head and shoving cake in my face, screaming "Feed that to your god, bitch!" I immediately called a psych hold. The police took him away, and returned him in the evening. This was especially embarrassing as it happened midday. Can you imagine everyone watching your husband be taken away while you have cake in your hair? Yeah, I got to experience that. 

Now you would think that a normal mental health professional would have held Ex-Mr Ninjacat for 48-72 hours to assess his mental health, but not the idiots here. They sent him home, and boy was he pissed. And I got ro experience this frequently as it worsened over and over and over and over.... At one point certain members of the Portland Police Department actually told me it was my fault. I do not know if these gentlemen still have a job, but seeing as I answered the door with visible strangulation marks on my neck, I sure as fuck hope not. You see, my ex had turned to drugs, and these drugs had triggered a mania each time he used them. For those who do not know, bipolar disorder is a progressive illness. Each time a mania is triggered, the next mania is apt to be worse. So my ex believed that I owned Google and Apple and that I was using myriad methods to spy on him and make a special secret web channel where we all watched him and made fun of him....I was also supposedly part of a secret group set to come after him and destroy his life. Mind you, the things he suggested were so impossible that people laughed. This culminated in him being arrested for holding me hostage, telling me descriptively that he was going to kill me and take his time, and he was sure glad I got to speak to my mother one last time, because he felt I had hacked his Apple account. I had not. The police took him away, and took this seriously this time. He supposedly decided he would stop using drugs, and we tried to sort it. This did not end well. Ex Mr NinjaCat is now still in jail for trying to kill me. He's sobered up in there, because it's jail, and if I speak to him, he is the man I used to know, but....

I'm pretty sure you can understand why our marriage did not work out. :P 

As you can imagine, this was a pretty scarred-for-life thing for me. But once Ex Mr NinjaCat was in jail and not leaving jail, I began to return to normalcy in my life. This is where my new guy came in. He knew my ex, and he knew what I'd been through. He encouraged me, he was a good friend to me, and after awhile he admitted attraction to me. I still didn't give in because look what I'd been through. BUT, he kept it up and I realized I loved him too. So, there is a happy ending there - at least romantically. Now I am happy and with someone who isn't trying to kill me while accusing me of being part of a superspy network, and it's someone who spoils me and brings me gifts and is also quite handsome and charming. 

But since life can suck more than a bag of leeches sometimes, because ex Mr NinjaCat was so troublesome, my landlord was, understandably at the time, pissed when he left for the last time. They decided to put me on extra secret double probation. This meant that even though my neighbor next door can have 20 new people over every week, I would get crap for having one person come by. I was told I had "too many guests." I don't actually have a lot of guests, as I am a reclusive weirdo, just as you always assumed. ;) So, when my new fella would come around, even though my guests were my new fella and a friend of mine who lives upstairs from me, this was "too many guests," and I would get complaints. That would be asinine enough, but the landlord also drilled gigantic fist sized holes through my wall which led to the laundry room for 102 units (which remain open to this day, and were/are for a sprinkler system), and I ended up with BEDBUGS. The landlord being one of those slimy fuckers you would guess my landlord might be decided to try to blame everyone and everything for those bedbugs except themselves. They sent me a bill for the bugs. They threatened me, they orchestrated bizarre situations like accusing me of living in filth because I had every stitch of clothing in trashbags (this is required for treatment,) ready to move to storage so my home could be treated, as prescribed by said landlord, and that means I'm cluttered and filthy. This became a spot of humor at one point, where I was even posting pics of my squeaky clean apartment with the tag of #myapartmentisfilthy. But the landlord insisted that I am a filthy pig monster and they wanted me OUT.

Mind you, this had NOTHING to do with bedbugs. They wanted to be irresponsible about that problem, sure, but the real problem was they figured I'd get back together with my ex. I had moved on and have been with someone else since early November 2020, but even when he stopped coming by (because there are still bedbugs here,) they just assumed I'd get back together with Ex Mr. NinjaCat. Nope. Thus started the battle we find ourselves still engaged in...and it's an epic one. My landlord is trying several greasy maneuvers to get me out, and since rental prices are insane and I actually like my apartment except for the bedbugs, I am not planning on leaving. The landlord doesn't understand Maine Tenant Law very well, whereas I'm the child of an estate attorney and I do. For example, the fact that I have them on video harassing me and threatening me and acting in an incredibly gross and egregious manner can get them in a serious amount of trouble. They cannot eject me for being a victim of domestic violence, and that will also get them in trouble. Furthermore, here in Maine, if your landlord decides to evict you, he or she needs to give you this thing called a notice to quit, and you must sign this notice or at least have a certified mail receipt showing you received the notice. I received no notice, but this week, someone knocked inaudibly on my door (it ends up that was the Sheriff's deputy,) and when I tried to schedule an appointment to receive the summons which was illegally made, this person just taped the summons on my door to humilate me just yesterday. Way to go Deputy, you just earned yourself a sanction! :) See in Maine, this person has to knock three separate times on three separate days before doing something so rude. Meanwhile if you make a reasonable request to make a time to receive this summons as I did, then the deputy must meet you on your reasonable request. As I knew I'd be busy most of yesterday, I'd messaged the deputy to say let's do this Friday morning, and you should know I'll be seeing you again, as I'd received no notice to quit. Ah well, the landlord needs to restart the ENTIRE PROCESS NOW, and this nifty summons gave me contact details for their lawyer, who I advised kindly that I'd received NO NOTICE TO QUIT. 

What does that mean? Well, I read the "complaint" and frankly it's not apt to go anywhere. In fact, since I have a friend who wants to put this on the evening news as a human interest piece, highlighting my abuse, the fact that my landlord has forced me to endure bedbugs, and things like I've not had a working fridge in five years, it might actually cause my landlord far more harm than good. The reality though, as Future Mr NinjaCat has pointed out, is that if these people really want me out enough, they will eventually get me out. Furthermore, given what these people have put me through, all because they are passive aggressive shitbags, Future Mr NinjaCat doesn't really like the fact that I'm here and they might abuse me more. I think it will all blow over once they realize Ex Mr NinjaCat will not be returning, but others do not support my feelings there. 

However, it puts me in a position where if I do find myself having to move because the courts of Portland decide against me (should it even reach a court room,) I would be smart to start downsizing my massive amounts of ritual supply on hand. With this in mind, I have a little offer for you all. I will give a free reading to anyone who purchases the regular seven day spell casting. Now you say "what if I get a reading, Cat, and I don't want the damn spell?" Well, then you just buy a reading. HOWEVER, if you decide you do want the spell, and you already purchased the reading, I will subtract the cost of the reading from the spell. Seeing as I have several weeks before anything hits a court room, none of this landlord debacle should affect anything. I'm just trying to downsize as being prepared is always well advised. I have a metric fuckton of ritual supply, and so I want to downsize to a quarter of a metric fuckton, as that is far easier to transport should I decide on moving. 

You let me know if this is of any interest to you. I'm actually in pretty high spirits considering all of this, and my gut tells me I'm not leaving here for quite some time...and I always trust my gut, BUT it never ever hurts to make sure I have a plan in place if my gut is leading me astray. ;)

~Cat

 

As Promised: The BedBug Saga, aka, why I've been hard to get ahold of

Hey Occulties,

So many of you had asked about what had gone on with my epic tale of bedbugs and bad landlords and etc. Let me get to it so I need not post it again, lol. Way back in possibly late October to early November, my landlord was installing a sprinkler system as per the new fire code, which, of course, was a giant shitshow for my landlord because the building is 100+ years old, and this meant doing things like literally drilling through walls with massive protective gear on to protect from the asbestos insulation. :P What it also meant - and what was troubling for basically all of the residents in myriad ways, was literally leaving open holes from one's unit into the communal hallways or into the next unit. 

Keep in mind, I have small parrots and I do not cage my small parrots, and also small parrots nest in things like holes in a tree so this was like installing a parrot playground which unintentionally allowed my parrots possible access to places that they had never been. Once I realized that leaving open holes in my walls was not for like a 24 hour period, I actually had stuffed them to prevent small parrot-shaped demons from escaping into the hall or other units. 

However - and this is up for argument, - I clearly DID NOT stuff them up fast enough because within a week or two of these holes in the walls being open, I started getting a strange itchy rash on my arm. 

Mind you, am not a social person. COVID has not helped. I barely ever go anywhere and rare is it that I see anyone - and this being before COVID, - so it never occurred to me that the cause could be anything but me developing a possible allergy. Maybe it was stress hives? Certainly right around that time some stressful stuff was going on, so it seemed to fit. But changing the soaps I used did not help. And changing the detergent I use did not help. Furthermore, it looked so much like...well, mosquito bites...but there are no mosquitos flying about in Maine in the winter. :P 

So I went through remedies to help with my itchy arm, but it just kept getting worse. In January, I noticed what looked like a tick in the laundry room - and not anywhere near where I'd put my laundry down, - and so I looked online and it was, as pictures would prove - a bedbug. There is no way this thing jumped off of me or my laundry, nor is it likely it climbed into my laundry upon leaving. I mentioned something to the building manager and she told me next time to try to catch one. This seemed bizarre since it was in the laundry room (the second door after my front door, no less,) but I said I would if I saw another. Then when I was watching TV one night, one skittered off my leg. Ew. As I lied in bed one night one skittered up my pillow. I caught that one. I showed the building manager. This was my mistake.

See, I should have just suffered in silence because it just so happens I apparently had walked into an enormous trap. I was instantly tagged as the cause of the bedbugs. My landlord proceeded to set me up to look like a complete fucking asshole. You see what was news to me (and I know now,) is that the shitty studio apartment between my home and the laundry room was empty. It had been empty for awhile. I did know that these holes made to install a sprinkler system between my unit and the units to either side were still open. However the landlord started with that due to my having let someone use my living room as storage, that person was the source of the bedbugs and therefore my mere allowance of that person to use said corner of my living room was the cause of the all of the bedbugs. Well, no, that theory was proved wrong as not only is this person allergic to their bites (gets huge welts,) they also could have every single roommate for the last 3 years attest that no bedbug activity was going on when this person lived there or after. So next it was my audacity to purchase a used dresser from FB marketplace was the cause of the bedbugs....that might fit until you realize, I sleep with one foot out, and where the dresser is placed in my bedroom, they'd go for my foot. Not only that but after a thorough examination, the furniture was deemed an unlikely source. 

But my landlord was not phased. In fact, they were going to be sure to blame this all on me, dammit, because then maybe - just maybe - they could stick me with the bill. So, without giving me any notice, they scheduled a treatment time with the bedbug company (which the pest control people tell me is about a 2 week notice), and then about 2-3 days prior to the event, gave me a notice telling me to remove what would end up being 4 car trips just to get out all the fabric stuff I needed to move, and I had to go 20 minutes in each direction for my very expensive storage unit that I paid out of pocket for, in a car I don't own (so I had to beg or pay for a ride,) while living in a city with such a bad parking issue that no one owns a fucking car. I was also told that no bedding or clothing or shoes or anything was allowed back in unless it was treated which to treat it all will cost me close to $1500. Oh, and my birds need to be housed somewhere for 8 hours. Oh, and the place needs to be cleaned and scrubbed from top to bottom. So, this is almost five years of accumulated detrius, annoying birds, and tons of money I don't have, while also costing me money because I can't work (three days just preparing my apartment was barely enough to get everything bagged and ready to go), on top of which at this point I was sleeping on the couch as it was the only place I didn't get bit, so I slept 3-4 hours a night. 

When the day arrived, my ride was about a half hour late. I told the pest people I just needed to check into a hotel (which I paid for,) and scoot my birdies out the door. Since it was a lot of stuff to be moved, the pest people suggested that I just use the empty unit next door instead of worrying about a ride, thus allowing them to start their work ASAP. This would have actually been very easy, but the landlord refused. I told them I'd be back in 15-30 minutes. When I returned, my door was left unlocked, and my window and storm windows left open. Because it meant they could try to blame me, apparently the landlord told the bug people that clearly I'm an asshole, I wasn't ready, and that they should go.

Mind you this could have easily been taken care of by moving all this stuff next door, and they even offered to do a preventative spray down in there after I'd moved my stuff, just as a courtesy.

NOPE. They would not help me with any part of it, despite it actually being written in Maine tenant law.

So, about a week later, I was sleeping on my couch, and some complete fucktard that works for my landlord (her fucktardery is legend,) starts kicking my door so loud I literally thought the door was going to be busted down. When I wake up, shaking like a leaf, the fuckhead identifies herself and I open the door. "It smells like cigarettes," says fuckhead, "don't smoke in my apartment!" (which she actually cannot say - she doesn't own the building and basically only functions by answering the phones and occasionally showing empty units,) and then told me to go down to the office. So I went and put on clean clothes and some lovely Versace perfume that Mr NinjaCat had gotten me some time ago, and there is no feasible way I could "smell like cigarettes," but the woman who more or less runs my landlord's office told me I reeked of cigarettes. I said as much, saying I'd put on a clean dress and I should smell like Versace but I guess I'd let a friend borrow my coat to go outside to smoke so maybe that's what she was smelling? She kind of just looked frustrated and then went on to say I must be treated for the bedbugs so tell her how fast I could be ready. I said everything is packed and ready to go, so it's a matter of transporting it. I was like "I guess as soon as Thursday, but because I have the birdies, I need a bit of notice." She seemed satisfied with this. I was sent some confusing literature a few days later saying there would be an inspection Monday and a treatment Tuesday. Mind you, I thought they were inspecting other units. That they were coming to give me a few pointers. That Monday, a friend and I spent the whole fucking day moving everything fabric except curtains (shower or window), and furniture out of my place. Whilst we were moving this stuff, the pest people came, and as I came up, the building manager is like "Yeah, the pest company is going to cancel again as your place isn't clean enough and there can't be a single birdseed on the floor." The thing is, I'd known I might be transporting my things so I'd left a clipboard of instructions out, and said if the bedroom was fine, expect the rest of the house at that level, and to let me know if I needed to do more. The living room looked far worse than it was as I was moving EVERYTHING OUT and I'd had it all sitting in my living room. I can't easily sweep around contractor bags of clothing that are taking up most of my living room so it looked awful, but I'd stated as much. The pest guy was in fact present in the building, and so I said, I'll talk to him and tell him that it's no problem and I'll send him pictures. She assured me it wouldn't make a difference and that he felt it would be another two weeks til I was ready.

I was LIVID. At this point I'd lost thousands in business, I'd paid at least if not well over a thousand in transport and moving and etc, and I can't have a single birdseed? I flipped out. Totally. Flipped. Out. I cleaned the fuck out of the living room floors as I'd wanted to for some time (because again, once I'd bagged up everything we own that's fabric, that didn't make it easy to clean the floor,) and wrote a scathing email to the pest company telling them I could get a reputable exterminator who could manage a "single birdseed." 

The pest company texted me that morning and the guy is like "No one told me you'd send me pics. Show me. If it's as clean as the bedroom was, I'll be over in a half an hour." He was mad as he didn't realize he could have spoken to me personally, and from the sound of it the landlord lied on me and said I'd never move the stuff out (I had half to two thirds out when he'd arrived, we determined,) and that I was probably missing because I was avoidant of treatment. I showed him pics. He was impressed (birdseed is a fucking sonofabitch, people, and one single day without sweeping means a birdseed vortex forms, lol, and it had been almost 2 weeks, so this looked like a whole new place,) and they came by and treated my home with no problem. What they told the landlord (and what the landlord didn't tell me,) is that not only was my place infested, so was the neighbor's unit and they were going to be back a day or so later to heat that place, and that I should expect them back in a few weeks. 

Then I received notice that as I am a bedbug conduit, they are considering not renewing the lease unless I pay for their bedbugs and then a BILL for the bedbug treatment. Yeah. Even better, when they came to poison my place last week, I was so ready, and nice, and then had seen one a day or so later, and called the pest company. The woman who answered was like "Yeah, you should have been told there would still be activity at least until the next time we show up. Did they tell you when that is?" I told her no, they are making a point that I should look unprepared and rude. So she told me when the appointment was TWO WHOLE WEEKS IN ADVANCE, and assured me that after all of the problems she was making a note to be sure that they contacted me for anyone appointments made or changes thereto as the landlord was clearly not giving me fair notice, and that she didn't really know if it was legal how they were treating me as she thought it was illegal to have me be forced to pay for the treatments, especially seeing as I lived right near the single laundry room for a 100 unit building, where holes were open between the laundry room and my home for a good amount of time, and it was perfectly feasible the bugs got in through there. 

Mind you, at this point, just the missed work alone is ridiculous. If I can't take appointments for two days, that is going to cost me a lot of money. Put that on top of the cost of transportation, and even cleaning (I have to use the laundry up the street now as they basically told everyone I am full of bedbugs and it looks like - though I may not be reading right, - I am expected to "treat" all my clothing at an outside laundry at full cost to me,) the cost of storage, and the fact that I am harassed (I've had the same two phone numbers the entire five years I've lived here, and yet they kick my door instead of calling,) and the short notice creating situations where I've even had to cancel and refund a few people. 

I know someone will say "Cat, are you being cursed?" Interestingly enough that is a story for another day, but I'm waiting for the excessively awful and painful decay to be so apparent to the person who attempted that, that you will all think twice.... Stupid as the person is, they think they got away with it. No. And honestly I don't blame them for the bed bugs.....it was a loved one of mine showing particular affectation which cued me into that someone was trying to come after me. SMH, I guess some people just can't wait to find out that some bad ideas really fuck your life up good. :P

So, since i did promise it, there's the story...I have my bedbug-infused Inflammatory Confusion all ready as well. I put some buggos in there, and that stuff is already fire without them, just like all the recipes I give Anubeion Creations to blend up for me (thank you to Laurie at Anubeion for your amazing work again!) Let me know if you're interested. :D

The positive side to all of this is that at least I shouldn't be stuck outside my home on short notice during a pandemic with nowhere to go for that reason any time soon again. :) If you missed me, now you don't have to. :D

~Cat

A Metric Fuckton of Bullshit

Hey everyone,

Well it's my soapbox so let me get on it. As some of you already know, Mr NinjaCat is very very unwell. No, it's not COVID. Because of his illness, I have a ton of bills, and because of COVID (no he's not sick with it,) I have very little paying business. He can't work, and his check is guaranteed, whereas I could work 16 hours a day, and make $150 for a week of 16 hour days. :P So basically, I am trying to pay GIGANTIC BILLS, and do that with 1/20th (or less) of the paying business I normally have. Even without bills that Mr NinjaCat incurred, I would have trouble paying my bills right now.... Seriously, the 'Rona hasn't made me sick but clearly it's still trying to kill me. 

And the terrible thing is one thing that helps me when I'm having problems is my job. No, not money, it's helping other people makes me feel good. It's why I've done what I do for 16 years - that's more than a third of my life. Right now, my life is a metric fuckton of bullshit, and I can't cope the way I cope...because business is so slow that I'm probably going to have to pick up a second job (I will totally come over and mow your lawn if you pay me, haha.) I miss working. I mean SIXTEEN YEARS doing my job, and I've never had it ever be this slow. I miss all of you so fucking much....I love helping fix problems. :( 

So I've done what I always tell you not to do. The one thing that truly fucks with me (mentally) is scary bills and no way to pay them, and of course now I keep thinking my money work to death. I am like a walking advertisement for how to make your money spell NOT manifest at the moment. HA!

I know I will get through this (I have dealt with several fucktons of bullshit in my life,) but I guess enough people have asked what happened and what's going on (some of you are my social media friends, so you know,) and I felt like I had to let you all know that yes, it's true, I am struggling. I am a fighter, and I will keep fighting (and trying to not obsess over my money spells so they will freaking manifest,) but if you talk to me and I seem a little distant, now you know there is a reason. I mean, when your college friends want to start a GoFundMe for you like mine suggested they do for me, you know shit is bad. :/ The NinjaCat family is definitely struggling and not above charity at this point. *sigh*

You are always welcome to speak to me privately on the matter. So many of my clients and readers are my friends that I want you all to know how much you guys mean to me. I know some of you who already heard about it have called and texted, and I appreciate it so much. If there is one thing I love about my job it is how I feel like I have a big family of friends who I love and who love me back. I am truly blessed to have met so many of you. I wish everyone had a job where they were excited to get up in the morning and work like I am. 

OK, I'm done crying. I'm getting off the soapbox. I feel better, like a weight is off my chest. That tells me maybe those money spells will manifest soon after all. It gives me some optimism, which is sorely needed. And I promise we can have some fun articles soon, OK? No one wants to hear more of old sad sack over here crying, right? Right. 

Love,

~Cat

PS- No I'm not cursed, and yes I checked and I blessed the house and cleansed and did all that stuff. Sometimes life is just shitty. 

PPS- Thank you to the people who sent me thank you emails for helping you with my spellwork over the last few weeks. All of you truly helped make me feel better, more so than normal. I always love happy updates, but I really needed to hear it the last few weeks.