No, the Chuck Norris place. And yes I have AIDS but it's being managed. She wants me to die.
Seriously, EVERYTHING I say/do/think only gets negative comments. Those dresses I got for my birthday, she turned her nose up and said I'll look terrible in them. My hair is too long, I'm ugly. I bought a goddamn litter maid, she gets bitchy and says it must be nice to have money (for buying a fucking litter box?!). She buys Christmas/birthday gifts for everyone in the family, spends hours on ebay searching for the perfect gift and spends god knows how much on them. Know what I'm getting for my birthday? Same thing I got for Christmas. Not a goddamn thing. Except speeches and guilt on how they've done everything for me, how I've always been a problem. Yes, I'm living with them while I save for a house. I give them 500 dollars a month, I could have an apartment for that but I wanted to help them out and let Blitz have a yard. And yet Peter, Blitz and the cats and I have to stay in the bedroom all the time or they scream at us.
Oh, and I just got a lecture about how the fact that I've been living here for 4 weeks is too much of a strain on the house and how I should pay the 15,000 dollars to redo their plumbing. FUCK FUCK FUCK.
Okay, rant over.