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The British Government has assured tourists that Mad Cow disease is nothing to worry about. However, they have not explained how it affected so much of their livestock so soon, nor have they provided information as to how many humans have been affected. I would like to help them.
I arrived at Heathrow Airport in London in July of 1998 on a British Airways flight. I was one of the few people with a US passport. I was directed to a British customs agent who was distanced from the other agents. Even though I had a pre-paid/non-refundable ticket, she expressed concern that I might be there for more than my five specified days. She searched my luggage. As soon as she found my asthma inhaler in my vanity she ceased the search. She only performed a cursory search of my pocketbook and so therefore did not find all of my medications. She took no interest in my manicure set in which there was a pair of scissors, and she ignored my raincoat.
It was demanded of me to explain my medications to the Port doctor. My medical background immediately told me that he was not a doctor. I later learned that he was a pharmacist from Brooklyn who was convicted of Conspiracy in the Forth Degree, Class E Felony in 1994 and completed his disciplinary proceedings in 1996. He was born in Afghanistan.
My medications were returned to me, and I was placed on a plane back to New York. I discarded all of my medications except for the inhaler. In September of 1998, when I considered returning to London, I removed it from my vanity and replaced it with a new one for possible future travel. An illness slowly developed in my system. It should have killed me in December of 1999, and again the in Spring of 2001. Because of my knowledge of herbs, I survived it. I used dandelion root to correct all damage to my liver, grapefruit seed extract to repair my heart, a combination of Ginko biloba, bilberry, horsetail and saw palmetto for the pituitary gland, and liquid stabilized oxygen to destroy the infection as it was positioned in my brain stem (this is the controlling mechanisms of the body). I had much help from many experts who deserve more credit than I do.
I have begged the British Government for an investigation but have only received a letter declaring that pharmacist a, "qualified doctor of medicine."
There has been mysterious activity since I first requested the investigation in May of 2000. The first occurred at my place of work for an employer I did not work for at the time of the incident at Heathrow. This job was as a fashion specialist at a department store. As I was taking care of a customer, I suddenly found myself being screamed at by another individual who had a British accent. She was demanding to know where she could find a certain designer. After I calmly told her we did not carry that line of clothing I walked away. A few days later I recognized her as the female customs official.
From that day forward I was not worried about a slander suit. I spoke to many people about this as I was desperately looking for another victim who perhaps had found the cure. I later learned I am the only survivor.
Other mysterious activity has included attempts to interfere with treatment.
My next place of employment was as a pharmacy-technician-trainee. My aspiration was to learn as much as is possible about medications. I hoped I could find my own cure as I was growing weaker everyday, and my appetite was slowly disappearing. I was experimenting with everything I could find at the vitamin store.
Even though they had promised to train me as a technician, I was kept at the registers. My manager expressed her persistence with great hostility, and the tech-trainer was only invited into our store on my days off. While I was picking-up a prescription on such a day, she looked at me with great pity.
During my employment at the pharmacy, I resolved to see an infectious disease specialist. I discussed it with the pharmacists.
As I was consulting with the doctor, I told him the story. When I arrived at the moment that the British Customs Official ceased her search upon finding my asthma inhaler, he stopped me and said, "That's a very serious allegation you are making."
I responded, "I know." I continued my story even though he had closed my folder and placed it on the edge of his desk.
After this, I resolved that all doctors are only to perform long distance telephone exams. I found one in Washington, D.C. who finally explained to me that dysfunctions in the body can sometimes originate in the controlling mechanisms of the brain stem.
After this conversation, I suddenly understood why the glands in the back of my head swelled so-often, and why I had the necessity to take Ginko biloba for the past few weeks for memory problems. (I would take Ginko biloba again at a later date for the reasons described above.)
Why had the infectious disease specialist not explained this to me? Why had he not associated my condition with the Mad Cow disease now receiving much attention in England?
In early December of 2000, I contacted the World Health Organization of the United Nations requesting an investigation into a possible genocide in progress at Heathrow Airport. My original letter was anonymous, but when I sensed activity, I sent a follow-up letter in which I identified myself. I called them a few days later and was given the name of the person handling the investigation. Unfortunately, the British Government did not welcome them immediately to investigate. Mysteriously, the only immediate action which followed was someone's act of giving the "doctor" a copy of my first letter.
In the Winter of 2001, a new pharmacist appeared at my place of employment. He had not practiced in many years. He did not know our modern computer systems. The head pharmacist very patiently gave him a basic training course while staying two hours late after a long shift.
I went home in a mysterious condition. I ran around the house for two hours until I finally understood what was wrong with me. It was the same "doctor" I met in England.
I researched his background with the New York State Board of Regents.
I suspected he was wearing these odorless gases as I experienced intensification of the symptoms of the illness I currently had. After I saw him again, the symptoms of another illness I had in the Fall of 1998 reappeared. Until this moment, I thought that illness was isolated from all my other issues. Two co-workers of mine became quite sick, and the pregnant pharmacist, who was due in May, stopped growing. I tried to explain to everyone that this place is gassed, but her only response was, "A person is innocent until proven guilty."
Citing a personal safety issue, I refused to work with him and went home early two hours on two different days. Even though I had expressed my concern with the acting head pharmacist before I took such action, I was still reprimanded. When I discussed his disciplinary history with the lead technician, she said that was an issue for upper management to deal with. A few days later, on February 14, 2001, I had both the head pharmacist, William Ricciardi, and the pharmacist who acted on his behalf during his brief paternity leave, sign the following document:
As I became weaker, my temper flared. My skin was quite pale, my abdominal region quite swollen, and I had already reduced my hours as my extremely limited energy level was overwhelming me. The lead technician told me nothing had happened to me at Heathrow. I told her that I hoped the same thing would happen to her daughter. She called up the head pharmacist crying. He reprimanded and suspended me. In my defense, I insisted she said nothing happened to me, and I hoped that the same would happen to her daughter. In his state of rage, he admitted that he had confronted this pharmacist with this act. I persistently demanded to know his response, which he refused to tell me. After his admission to this confrontation, I then understood her panic--she did know everything. She didn't care that his actions would inevitably eventually affect her family.
Since I was fired, the pharmacy associates have been forbidden from speaking to me. One of the co-workers who became sick has since left, and I have only heard rumors about the baby which I cannot confirm because I cannot talk to anyone.
I cured the illness in March of 2001 with a liquid stabilized oxygen--the most powerful anti-infective in the world. I discovered it as I was calling across the country. An individual with a Ph.D. in athletics finally gave me this information. I telephoned him because I included in my telephone calls companies who market products in the vitamin stores. There are no words which can express my gratitude. However, I still have a weak diaphragm which is causing the stomach to remain out of position and push upon the left lung. Both problems are causing the most severe asthma I ever had. Another condition I am experiencing, for a reason no one can explain, is my weight of 170 pounds with my 5'2" stature, and 35" waist. Also a medical perplexity, is why I only eat one meal per day. However, it must be recognized that this is as a monumental accomplishment from my condition at the time of my departure from the pharmacy for which I ate one bowl of spaghetti per day, and lost it 20 minutes later.
I now work at a vitamin store where I met a chiropractor. She offered to help me. I went in for one session and experienced a great improvement.
She has since, mysteriously, refused to see me.
When I arrived at Heathrow on that fateful day in July of 1998, I was one of a few people carrying a US passport. The question remains why was I the one chosen. It was not random. A member of the few people who lead the United Kingdom was using this system to sexually harass me.
Before that pharmacist was sent to work with me, there were other mysterious attempts to force me to buy another plane ticket to England. It is the reason why I was fired as a fashion specialist. Among the mysterious activity, was an interference with my refinancing my home mortgage in April of 2000 to help pay for the medical expenses. The bank tried several times to transfer the money but only succeeded after I purchased a plane ticket. I never went. Before my departure date, and after I cancelled the hotel reservations, the British customs official came to scream at me (see above).
The issues concerning my suspension and ultimate firing from the pharmacy were brought by me before the Department of Labor's Occupational Safety and Hazard Enforcement office. Even though they telephoned the pharmacy regarding the issue, they eventually ruled that the matter must be dealt with by the United Nations World Health Organization.
I still would like one day to return to England, even though Her Majesty, The Queen never liked me, particularly since the divorce. I suggested to Princess Diana that her marriage must be annulled because her husband stood at the altar aware of his plans not to be faithful to her. I also suggested that children of any woman he slept with must undergo a DNA test, especially if these children are older than her sons. After these legal strategies were introduced, the Church, of course, never objected to the divorce, and the Royal Family never again attempted to revoke custody from her. For these reasons, I have never contacted her regarding this.
I often wonder if Mad Cow was the only toxin I received. Were there other infections, and non-infectious substances? Could something be still positioned inside of my brain? Even more mentally painful for me is the fact that if the British Government had performed a routine inspection of a government office, all of my questions would have been answered long before I incurred $10,000 in vitamin, medical and hospital laboratory expenses as all of the physicians involved, including those mentioned above, searched my system to find what was ailing me. None of them ever mentioned that it could be in the brain. Although I have insurance, all expenses were applied to $5,000 annual deductibles over a two year period because the condition was not classified as an injury. Only the World Health Organization can change this because the act of poisoning is classifiable as injurious. And as I wait, the time I have to ask the insurance company to reconsider has expired. Furthermore, I cannot retroactively collect disability insurance for the four months I couldn't work because I do not have this report.
Now, as it becomes evident that there were more victims than the World Health Organization could ever have imagined, the British Government must deal with a new challenge: How are they going to reimburse every victim and victimized families for damages? Not only does this include those who were personally attacked by this infection, but those whose tourist or agricultural businesses were impacted. And such impacts could easily have been avoided by a routine inspection of a government office which must be performed regardless of what I have to say. The United States Government must also explain why it did not perform an investigation into the air-quality of the pharmacy. Such investigation would, I suspect, have led to the obtaining of a search warrant into Riaz Hussein's home. And such investigation may have led to other Afghani friends who answer to the same leadership. I very much suspect that the events of September 11th could easily have been prevented. Our leaders failed us. And I believe that the perpetrators acted with pre-existing knowledge that our leaders are inevitable failures.
The issues involving Prince William's demand of me to return to London are much more emotionally complicated. An admission that an investigation was necessary, could have led to the necessity that he must pay for my flight--his worst nightmare. He sends grapevine subliminal messages through friends and co-workers attempting to lure me with jewelry and other luxuries, while reminding me repeatedly that in five years I will be forty-years-old--over the reproductive hill. His pre-impregnation demand is that I tolerate his inability to handle my obtaining one of the jobs I have been offered in my field of anthropology. For me to obtain such status would threaten his masculinity. Because I do not accept his impregnation-prerequisites, I have been called a child-hater. He is unable to relate to me and to converse with me in any way. He insists I must chase after him. I prefer to go to work. He therefore classifies me as someone who places career before family. He believes he is doing me a favor by giving me this wonderful opportunity.
I first thought about opening this web site one year ago. If I had known then what I know now--that there were so many more victims of the genocide at Heathrow than the World Health Organization could find--I would have taken this initiative at the time. My original inspiration was the financial drain I was experiencing. I did not want to refinance the mortgage. The last time I did I assumed that the day will come in the near future that I will be allowed to earn a descent living either in retail management or anthropology. Neither has happened.
Earlier this month I faced a $2,000 transmission bill on my car.
I now must face an impossible decision. Should I sell the house I inherited and use the equity released to pay rent on a home I will never own, or continue to hope that one day I will reach financial equilibrium between the house I grew-up in (which is one of the last extremely well-built homes) and the career I might have?
A reimbursement for my expenses would help. But Prince William's strategy is to try to charm me out of it.
I also wonder what future expenses I will have as my chiropractors are trying to push out of my spine fluids of unknown quality. These doctors explained to me that anything they cannot correct is a brain-problem.
When I worked at the department store, I hinted that I wanted more money by refusing to allow management to alter my schedule however they wanted. I received a $0.10/per hour raise raising my salary from $9.00 to $9.10/hour, and my manager didn't stop crying for weeks. She attempted to make me work very hard for this money, even though I was one of the most poorly paid associates in the store. My temper eventually flared.
A few weeks before Riaz Hussein arrived at my place of work, I sensed trouble coming and telephoned the White House and asked for an Order of Protection. I believe that a verbal warning would have been adequate. Instead, two Administrations stood-by while a pharmacy was converted into a gas chamber.
The White House knew who I was. I am the one they always turn to for help in negotiations strategies. But I receive no payment because Prince William does not want me working full time while being a mother.
I can't figure that out either.
Because I have insisted on equal pay for equal work despite this, I have been called a child hater and anti-family.
I drafted the letter President Georgie-Pooh wrote to the Chinese Government just before their demand for an apology for the unfortunate death of their pilot. When President Billy was considering invading Iraq, I proposed the invention of a bomb that would neutralize the biochemical weapons Saddam Hussein was storing. These are some of my contributions. I have also made personal contributions to the administration of the United Kingdom. I have been laughed at when I asked for payments and instead had to work at the department store which required walking constantly on hard marble floors while I was very sick. I missed one day of work in the Fall of 1999. The human resources manager had my disability papers on standby. At the time, I experienced a partial collapse of the upper right lung. Considering all of this, even if I became a princess I would never feel like one.
If there are any survivors out there, I would like to explain how I remedied myself. The information I gave at the beginning of this web-site was only a brief synopsis.
I had asthma for twenty years before all of this. I was always told it was emotional. It always baffled me that it only began after I was very sick one summer with an illness that had all the symptoms of mumps, but my mother never took me to the doctor because we always tried to handle all health issues with vitamins and herbs.
In the Summer of 1999, my asthma became so severe that I found myself sleeping with my over-the-counter inhaler in my hand. In October, I decided to see the doctor and learned from clinical diagnosis and chest x-ray that I had a partially collapsed upper right lung, lung infection, and "possible cancer".
I received this telephone call from my doctor while I was at work. Immediately after I hung-up the phone, my co-worker and good friend of another department, came over, purchased two t-shirts from the department I cared for as if it were my baby, and, after hearing my news, told me to say a prayer. When I went to dinner, and watched the news with everyone else in the lounge, the weatherman made a prayer gesture with his hands.
My relatives were told to plan the funeral. My manager (a different one from that described above) was assigned to keep me calm, and the local ambulance service was told to prepare for my upcoming collapse. Co-workers were continually asking of me if my lung hurt. It never did.
I went to see my gynecologist. He suspected that there was another tumor in my uterus. The nurse looked devastated. I then knew from experience that this was a dandelion root issue. I hadn't taken it in years because it cured, rather than treated, other problems which my mother also had. I had long suspected that her breast cancer was linked to the same deficiency. It cured my PMS, weight distribution problem, and most of my varicose veins.
I took 100 pills per day of this in my favorite brand, Solaray. I realize that this was very excessive but I also knew from experience that too much of this will lead to a facial outbreak, which didn't happen. I was also taking 100 pills/day of dry vitamin E-400 units, and 100 pills/day of bioflavinoids. I had already taken massive dosages of glucosamine sulfate with the hope it might reconstruct the soft tissue in the right lung.
I went in my for next set of tests 10 days later; clinical examination of my lung and pelvic sonogram. There was no sign of cancer. My relative, a neuro-surgeon, sent his next Christmas card to me two months late.
I have since performed some research on the subject and learned that in 1960, a person named Blond wrote a book called The Liver and Cancer. It was cited by Adelle Davis in her landmark achievement, Let's Get Well. I cannot understand why the medical community never noticed this. According to Rosemary Gladstar in her book, Herbal Healing for Women, the herb dandelion root is "par excellence" for the liver.
Since the liver has the responsibility of removing waste tissue, I believe that cancer is a liver disorder. And the liver has the power of regeneration.
But the asthma was still severe. The antibiotics worked during the period that I took them, and for a few days later. I refused to believe that my favorite, amoxicillin, had failed me. Instead, I opened these capsules and dropped them in a tea kettle full of boiling water. I took 1,000 mg/per day of this for another two weeks. I surmised that for 20 years an infection had been positioned in the fluid portion of my lung, unattached to anything. As I recovered, I saw my skin tone return to its pink tone from the yellow I had for this period, and my eyes convert from tiny slits to wide open again.
My next chest x-ray showed two normal lungs. I still had some asthma. I thought I should just leave it at that. But appetite problems persisted, as did some abdominal swelling which would become much worse later. I eventually realized that an infection was still alive in my system. I begged the pharmacists for the information of where it is. No one could tell me. At the time I thought this came from Iraqi laboratories. One pharmacist, Andrew, researched extensively trying to find what it might be, and found nothing.
During this time period, my doctor drew much blood testing for everything. An over-active thyroid surfaced which I probably inherited from my mother. I took no action until late March of this year, after I killed the infection with the liquid stabilized oxygen brand named Aerobic 0-7, made by Aerobic Life of Arizona.
Sometime after I killed it, I lost the hair on my arms and legs. I was trying everything and found a product to treat hair-loss in men which was television-advertised and could be acquired by mail-order only. After I received the package, I looked at the content and realized that it is Ginko biloba, bilberry, saw palmetto and horsetail.
I saw the endocrinologist on the earliest appointment date I could acquire, June 21st. He drew blood. Later that day this package arrived. I took it for three days and stopped two days before the thyroid scan. The first test concluded Grave's disease. The second test concluded normal.
Andrew was, of course, my favorite pharmacist. A bachelor of approximately my age, he kept me awake at night with long, sensuous telephone calls. He made me glow. While Riaz Hussein was one of our pharmacists, Andrew spent much of his time at another store doing his typical overnight shift. After one of Hussein's overnight shifts, I noticed on patient profiles that he had used Andrew's initials to fill prescriptions. What is even more peculiar is the fact that Andrew did not use his real initials because there was another pharmacist with the same initials.
After the events of Sept. 11th, I tried to contact Andrew. Although I know it is not likely that he would have been in Manhatten or near the Pentagon, I still needed to know that he was alive and well. I learned from a pharmacist in his store that he had not been heard from in a week-and-a-half. I telephoned my former store and learned that he is away getting married.
Where is he?
When I thought I was going to be working in the office of the US Ambassador to the UN, my ambition was to have 10,000 political prisoners released before Oct. 1st of this year. I do not need to be on any human rights commission to accomplish this.
Many of these political prisoners would not have permitted the behaviors we have seen in the past month.
One of Afghanistan's most important allies is China. I believe it is the most powerful in this union (which also includes Iraq, France and Russia) as it is the most industrialized. Because it is the most industrialized, it has a strong economic market position in the US.
I would like to ask of everyone to contact the Mission to the Chinese Government in New York, or one of China's Embassies, and inform them that if they arrange for the release of Osama Bin Laden, we will each buy an article of clothing or other product made in China.
We would also like the release of 10,000 political prisoners by Oct. 1st. We would like this to be a total between all of the countries China is allied with. (I do not want to become excessive.) And for this we will buy a second product.
Failure to comply with our demands would lead to our taking all of our recently purchased products made in China (e.g., back-to-school clothes, etc.) and returning these.
(If you do not have a receipt, and made such purchase with a department store charge card, you may have the company send you a duplicate receipt.)
Last night, on Sept. 20th, the President added to the list of demands on Afghanistan the elimination of terrorist training camps and release into our custody of all other terrorists.
For those who find this too long a list to handle, I would like to suggest that you randomly select one, or two demands to make on the Chinese government.
The 10,000 political prisoners seems to be an unrelated issue to some. However, I believe that this is an opportune moment to change the political structures which procreated the events of Sept. 11th.
I would also like to take a moment to attempt to anthropologically explain what I believe happened on Sept. 11th. I believe that the issues are over four million years old.
As you may already know, approximately 3.7 million years ago Australopithecus first surfaced in the archeological record. The majority of the anthropological community believes that most of our changes in behavior and physiology occurred after this moment. That is, our omnivorous eating habits, hairlessness, tool-using and -making, and much more.
There are a few of us who believe that most of this occurred between the years of ten and four million years ago. The theory was first introduced by Sir Alister Hardy and developed upon by Elaine Morgan in her book, The Descent of Woman. The theory is called the aquatic ape theory. It claims that during this period of time, humans became semi-aquatic. This was the evolutionary moment that we lost our hair, became omnivores, tool-makers and -users to open shelled fish, lost our dependency on our sense of smell, and much much more.
I personally believe that a few members of our species dwelled by the water, while others only waded. Their purpose in life became to live-off of the profitable economy now managed by the aquatic apes.
As the issue of the political prisoners proves, this is NOT NOT NOT a racial issue. I believe that the races evolved after we diversified ecologically through the planet.
I also personally believe that the reason why men lost the hair on their head, yet had less evolutionary pressure to lose post-cranial hair (a trait shared by all races), was due to the fact that they were land dwellers while women were mermaids. This, in my opinion, would also explain why hunting is more often, although not in all stone-age societies, a masculine practice. The Agta of the Philippines is one example in which the women participate in small game hunting. However, there is no known society in which women are large game hunters.
The mermaid is portrayed as having gills from the waist down which I believes exemplifies the semi-aquatic condition.
I also believe that the words archetypical and beautiful are interchangeable. Therefore, we women are culturally required to beautify ourselves by shaving our arms and legs thereby accomplishing the final step of evolution we never took.
In these terrorist organizations, the sexual segregation is very extreme. In aquatic ape culture, women and men made equal contributions to subsistence. In non-aquatic ape cultures, each partner had a role of subversion.
Inasmuch as they subverted the aquatic apes, they also must have subverted each other. I believe that these battles were not only between genders, but also between groups consisting of both genders. The nature of their divisions were the socially adaptive pretexts and techniques they used to achieve financial dependency on the aquatic apes. Mass murders of one another was probably a way of life already back then. But because they hid themselves from the aquatic apes, aquatic apes did not know how brutal their lifestyle was. They would occasionally receive a dosage, though.
Very rarely, these non-aquatic apes make appearances of social adaptivity before those they are subverting. I believe that this must require much exhaustive energy.
The anthropological bottom line is that this is battle between socially adaptive aquatic apes who seek social adaptivity intra- and inter-specifically, against socially inadaptive non-aquatic or minimally aquatic apes who are constantly at battle with each other and others. Intrinsic to the condition of social inadaptivity is an extreme jealousy of aquatic apes, coupled by self-hatred and embarrassment. They know there is something wrong with themselves.
Sometimes these non-aquatic apes have impressive academic credentials. One should never be too easily impressed with this. Many colleges have departments consisting of professors who can't instruct. They find students who can't learn and in exchange for much ego-entertaining, falsify credits and grades on their transcripts. One of the methods of ego-entertainment is to publicly glorify the phony department by boasting about their superior skills, and eliminating the public appearance of anyone who easily competes with their level of competence. However such elimination need not be violent, it is often an issue of political maneuvering.
I believe that student-perpetrated school massacres are performed by those who are minimally aquatic or non-aquatic apes. I also believe that the critical issue is financial independence, and that these are individuals who have not found any technique to achieve financial dependence.
The suicidal nature of these attackers is therefore a manifestation of these conditions of self-hatred and fear.
Although the age difference between William and myself was extreme, I took the position that we are going to be married for 50 years. It doesn't matter that much. My anthropological position was that the peak for sexual appetite in the male is 17, while that for the female is 34. I suspected that this was because we females could not be easily drawn from the water. We probably also didn't like transforming from standing on our toes in the water, to standing on our feet on dry land. So eventually it became necessary to invent high-heeled shoes. But I still think we would all like to return to our baths.
I thought I had the relationship I waited so-long for. Originally, there was an agreement of uncompromising fidelity. He stunned all of the females who waited so patiently for him for so long. He was worried about me. But I told him to concentrate on his studies and that there was no need for distraction. He insisted he had to maintain an interest in this because he was afraid his father might sneak-in under the covers with me.
It is probably better that I did not become a princess or employed in the UN Ambassador's office because I don't think I could have asked all of you for all of your wonderful help. I'm glad I am no longer fighting this battle alone.
As the October 1st deadline approaches, I would like to ask of stores from whom we bought merchandise to please extend any 30 day deadline for returns. Perhaps you can issue merchandise credits? Please also prepare to begin withdrawing your buyers from China.
I hope we can accomplish this without more bloodshed. Although I would like to see the establishment of a new government in Afghanistan, I do not believe that such accomplishment will automatically lead to the seizure of the suspects of the Sept. 11th attack. I am very grateful for Russia's help in searching all over Europe for the financial resources of Osama Ben Laden. I am also amazed at the extraordinary level of competence of their information service in that Russia's Prime Minister was able to be the first to contact our President for expression of his condolences. I don't know what words to use to express my feelings. I now find this government the most fascinating for anthropological study in efficiency management.
A few years ago, I did write a book, HOMO SAPIENS MODERN; Our Archaic State. I had a publisher, but in 1995 I had to fire them because they wanted me to pay to correct the malicious damage someone else did in the form of cutting sentences in half. I refused to pay and demanded assurances that my royalties did not have the same fate. I received no answer to the latter issue.
I independently published it. The US library system has a copy on file. On my next day off I will donate a few more. I printed 140 copies and my printer was very generous and stored for no charge 860 covers. The generosity was a necessary consequence of the fact that it was most sensible to print 1,000 covers.
To help me pay for this web-site, I will attempt to market ten copies of the book on my host. If anyone has any questions or comments regarding any issues within the book, please only mail an open postcard.
There is no information on the Royal Family in the book, only anthropological analyses comparing the cultures of stone-age societies to our Western steel-age. I collected most of my data by observing the attorneys of the Supreme Court in New York.
Very early in my relationship with my publisher, we had several disagreements on the issue of Chicago Style.
I personally believe, and insisted, that all parenthetical remarks must be in parentheses, not brackets, because one must be consistent with the dictionary first, Chicago Style second. I also believe that all quotations which are presented in the form of indented paragraphs, must have beginning and end quotation marks so that there is NO question that I did NOT commit plagiarism. If any judge or jury deemed my lack of usage as an illegal act, I could be sued many, many times.
I also believe that any quotations I used which did not begin with a capital letter because the author I cited did not use one, should not be modified to capitalize the first such letter. I also believe that if, at the end of the quote, the cited author did not use a period or other form of sentence termination, I should only use my sentence termination after the end of the quote. I believe that no modifications should ever be made to a quotation. I felt especially strongly about this because many of the books I quoted are extremely rare. If in the unfortunate circumstance one might have to use what I quoted to reconstruct what one of these authors wrote, such modifications would extensively and unnecessarily complicate this process. I further believe that the bracketed citation must be before the end-quotation mark, not after the end of the sentence, so that no one has to guess whether the citation refers to the sentence before or after.
Also of issue was my conviction that a personal thought which has passed through the language centers of the brain, which not all thoughts do, must be in quotes. We settled on italics.
Unfortunately, I do not have a television set at this time. I had three. The first two I smashed on the driveway because, in 1998, I hired painters and carpenters to take care of long-deferred maintenance on the house, and they didn't show-up for several days. I knew who was responsible, and vowed that one more no-show would lead to this action. Of course, someone immediately noticed what I did. That afternoon, they arrived. The third TV is over 40 years old and I couldn't lift it. It finally broke-down a few weeks ago.
I only say unfortunately because I cannot see what all of you are seeing as our teamwork is evolving. But I am glad that you all now understand my life over the past few years. Although it has been a very productive, and surprisingly accurate, method of communication, I have not had the personal contact which every human being needs.
I am actually very grateful that it broke-down because I no longer have to force myself to stay awake from 11 -11:45 pm after a hard day of work. I stay awake until 11:05 and that's it. I need the rest very much.
I would like to briefly return to the subject of herbs and dandelion root. As I previously stated, I suspect that dandelion root, most likely in the Solaray brand as my experiences might suggest, is the cure for cancer. I suspect that some of you might take this for preventative reasons. Some research has shown that taking an herb when you don't need it might lead to an inability to process it. While I have plenty in the house, I do not routinely take it and never did.
Currently, I take a gland-supplement every day. While I do not believe I need most of its content, I do believe that I need the liver bile to offset my need for vitamins K and ester-C. I also take a weekly dosage of acidopholis.
Before the possible cancer diagnosis, I developed, to my devastation, a few gray hairs. These were reversed as the cancer scare ended. I suspect it was the vitamin E, although it may have been the bioflavinoids, glucosamine sulfate, and/or dandelion root.
I have also learned throughout all of this, that taking the herb Fo Ti, also known as Ho Shou Wu, prevented yeast infections while I was on prescription antibiotics. Unfortunately, the Aerobic 0-7 is so powerful I did not have the same preventative results with it. I have since learned that while the herb is not known to have antibacterial qualities, it is known to operate on the uterus.
I should also tell you about an associate of mine who was once diagnosed with dyslexia. To my surprise, no one ever told him that left-handed people have a tendency to write backwards and that the only remedy he needed was to use his right hand. He did not need all of the years of private schooling and tutoring, and to cope with the humiliating classification as illiterate.
A family member of his had a problem with alcoholism. Since dandelion root works on the liver, I suspected that was the cure. It was.
The liver is at the center of everything in the system. It is not surprising that dandelion root can treat and cure so much.
What I should also let you know is that I do not have my own computer. Even if I could afford one, this is one situation which is better left to the experts. I have been paying a graphics company to use theirs. I finally obtained an E-mail address and will be placing my book on eBay. We have spent much of the morning on this date of Sept. 27th working on that.
Our Consumer-Day (C-Day) is on Monday. Please do NOT wait for my prompt to take action, especially since you receive more extensive information than I do. I never know when I have time to work on the computer, and I do not have Monday off.
As you already know, our demands are release into our custody Osama Ben Laden, release into our custody of all other suspected terrorists, elimination of all terrorist training camps, and release of 10,000 political prisoners. Our aspiration is establishment of governments that would never encourage, comply with, or in any way advocate the terrorist actions we have seen in the past month.
If any demand is met, I would like to ask retailers NOT to withdraw their buys from China, the strongest member of their union, but rather to only buy 10% of what was planned. As each demand is met, this figure will rise. This is commensurate with our plan to buy one item made in China after each act of compliance. The deadline for initiating compliant acts is October 1st, 2001. And we will expect to receive compliant confirmation on the 7 am morning news, or we will immediately on this date proceed to return all goods recently purchased which are made in China. We will NOT accept promises of future action, because these are only attempts to sabotage the 30-day-return-deadline many stores have, which we hope have been extended for this project.
On another subject, I should also have mentioned that the dyslexic associate also had a stuttering problem. When I was in fourth grade, I read in a children's newspaper that left-handed people can have stuttering problems.
As you may already know, in both left- and right-handed people, the right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, and the left controls the right. And, as you may already know, for both right- and left-handed people, the left side of the brain houses the language centers.
In left-handed people, the right-dominant-side competes with the left-language-side for control of the voice forming mechanisms.
I wish I could remember the name of the researcher so that I may provide a proper citation. But I remember as a child resolving never to forget this as I determined that it might be very useful information one day. Over the years I occasionally recited the information in my mind to keep that promise to myself.
As to the information I provided above concerning the tendency left-handed people have to write backwards, my citation is a news-show report presented by a left-handed reporter which I watched as a child in which a left-handed person concluded the report by writing backwards.
As you may already know, my book is not yet on eBay. We spent another morning attempting to process the information to open the account and we have been rejected several times and don't know why.
Even if I do acquire the eBay account, I know I will be called greedy if I do not give him the money in the form of paying for my airline ticket. And I have often wondered who paid for the airline ticket of the British Customs official who came to scream at me at my place of work.
I know Prince William is jealous of my web-side and does not want me to achieve financial independence. What I don't understand is why. When my ancestor of four million years ago harvested fish and vegetal resources from the seabed floor, she had her financial independence. It is therefore that I conclude that this is an evolutionary aberration.
It is now Oct. 2nd. I am aware of all of the returns of computer equipment and department store merchandise. For the past few days, and especially now, I have also been aware of the President's concerns for the impact this will have on our economy.
I would like to remind him that we are AQUATIC APES. Ten million years ago our ancestors saw the ecological depletion of the African continent. They therefore became innovators of sophisticated tools and teamwork.
The attitudes I have seen over the past few days remind me of one incident which happened between my first manager at the department store and myself. I complained that my co-worker and myself had frenzied to clean-out the fitting rooms, and then another co-worker signed her initials on the fitting-room-card thereby accrediting herself with the work. She then stood before us with a triumphant look in her facial expression and posture. My manager responded by telling me, "You are not acting as a team."
Her definition of teamwork was tolerance of abusive behavior.
I am declaring this a bloodless and abuse-less war. I am demanding of all aquatic apes to pool their innovative resources together to make this a new beginning. I am demanding of the Chinese government to issue unemployment and welfare benefits to all workers who will be affected by this. Additionally, I am assigning all corporate executives to read the article assigned to me in my first cultural anthropology course; "The Shrink-Wrap Solution: Anthropology in Business," by David W. McCurdy and Donna F. Carlson, Conformity and Conflict, James P. Spradley and David W. McCurdy, eds., Little, Brown and Company, Boston, 1984.
The article is about a corporate executive with some training in anthropological techniques, who was assigned the task of improving standards of a division plagued with inefficiencies. She took the anthropological and corporately novel initiative of interviewing the workers, even though executives were expected to distance themselves from them. From this, she found the problems.
Returning to the subject of personal health management, I have another story to tell.
I saw doctors, nurse practitioners, and spoke to every nutritionist I found in the health stores. There is one person I never spoke to until after the Washington, D.C. doctor told me that dysfunctions in the body can sometimes originate in the brain stem. That one person was my hair-dresser to whom I now refer to as a medical technician.
Before my first trip to England in March of 1998, I resolved to do something which I had never done before--see a cosmetologist about my hair. I had once tried myself to trim my hair, but vowed never again.
My current medical technician was the fourth cosmetologist I had gone to. I liked her best because, while they all complained about my split-ends problem, she took the additional initiative of going throughout my hair with a tiny scissors and eliminating all she could from all heights.
In May of 2000, I asked her that if I finally followed her instructions of going to her every six-to-eight weeks for a trim, rather than every few months, would she be able to eliminate the problem within a year. She said she might.
I decided to spend the money. I saw her every six weeks.
In late March of 2001, a few weeks after my conversation with the Washington, D.C. doctor, I saw her still working so-diligently on my hair.
Why, I asked.
"I don't know. There is something about your hair that it splits. Maybe its something in your diet."
"What supplements should I take?"
"I don't know anything about that. But there is an area back here where it is really bad."
"Here," she pointed to the region of my RIGHT brain stem.
"Where is it growing?"
She was so-stunned by my question that I had to repeat the question a few more times before she pulled on that same region.
She then explained to me that hair is alive.
I must here emphasize that it was the upper part of my RIGHT lung which partially collapsed in the Fall of 1999, and at this same time, my RIGHT uterus developed a mysterious growth. So therefore it must be concluded that the infection was in my LEFT brain.
I continued seeing her regularly. But in late May, while I was out-of-work and didn't know when I would be well enough to return, I resolved to wait three months before I returned.
The split ends repaired themselves.
There are more details of my employment experience which I must share with you.
On the day that William Ricciardi, the head pharmacist, gave Riaz Hussein the two hour basic training course, Riaz Hussein would have to complete his overnight shift all alone without even the help of a technician.
After the reprimand, I received a telephone call from Robert Tesaro, the pharmacist who reprimanded me. He informed me that Riaz Hussein will be the overnight pharmacist, and my evening shift will overlap with his. He assured me that I could come in early, and "We'll get you out" before he comes in. He did.
But the next time, I wasn't so-lucky. My guess is that William was still determined.
I found myself all-alone with him between 9 and 11 pm. I decided not to jeopardize my job because I did not think I could find another one in my pale, sickly condition.
Even though they had refused to train me, Andrew had taught me much. Even though we worked together late in the evening and I was exhausted, he still authoritatively summoned me to the computer many times. And one of the technicians, Karen, had also provided much training. Everyone else was also nice to me. Even the lead technician sometimes gave me some lessons.
I was the bits and pieces of a half-technician, all alone with a pharmacist who had refused all other training. We both worked hard, and as a team. He often assumed the register thereby giving me a chance to develop my skills within the pharmacy. Andrew was the only other pharmacist who often relieved me from cashier duties.
While I was on the computer with my back to Riaz Hussein, I at one point turned around to hear what he had to say. The moment of looking into your own killer's eyes while seeing his frustrations that I am not dead is a moment no words can describe.
At the end of the evening, he asked me to go buy him a cup of coffee and repeated his earlier offer to buy me some donuts. I decided to politely decline again. He gave me some cash and I performed the errand. I was reminded of the times that Andrew would finish his shift in the morning knowing I would arrive in a few hours for a day, rather than evening, shift and he would leave some donuts for me.
The next day Riaz Hussein and I were on the afternoon shift together.
He patted me on the back and said, "I enjoyed working with you yesterday."
I did not respond.
It was the first time Billy, Riaz Hussein, and I were all together on one shift. I told Billy that I had to talk to him. I decided to keep this a short conversation.
As Billy, with his taller stature, leaned over to listen to me, I discreetly gestured toward Hussein and quietly said, "I am fairly certain that man over there is the one who poisoned my inhaler."
Billy jerked his head back and looked over at him.
I later learned that he did confront him.
This was the last time I would see Riaz Hussein. It was his last day. No one knew what happened to him.
The next day Billy asked of another overnight pharmacist, who was also a regular pharmacist, to do her routine job of inventorying the narcotics in the safe and to be aware of his suspicion that 200 pills of methylphenidate are missing. I do not know the results of the inventory, but I did contact the New York State Board of Regents after I was fired a few weeks later.
And there is also one more detail of the events at Heathrow I need to tell you about.
The British Customs official was in her third trimester of pregnancy. It appeared to me that she was not happy about her pregnancy.
While I was detained, I asked to speak to her supervisor. The three of us sat in a room and I had a peculiar feeling.
It was six months later that I first asked for an investigation. But I had not yet theorized that I was poisoned. Rather, I decided I had to mention that he was not a doctor because it finally occurred to me that he might be treating pilots before they fly.
The written response I received insisted that he was a, "qualified doctor of medicine" and proceeded to lie about the incompetence I witnessed. But the lie indicated to me that they did believe me, but allowed him to continue to practicing anyway.
It had been my understanding through the method of communication I described to you above, that the baby had been quite sick with an infection. Immediately after the response-letter to me, the mother took the baby to him for treatment. The baby died. I was blamed because I should have told them sooner. Or, in simpler terms, I never told the mother that babies are treated by pediatricians. She said she didn't know that.
To my knowledge, there was no investigation into the death of the baby, nor were any lab specimens subjected to DNA tests. The mother, however, continued to circulate blame against me. I sent her a message via Prince William that if she ever repeated it again, I would sue her for slander. I was never again blamed.
When I first contacted the World Health Organization, I asked for the cause of death. At the time I was convinced that if I could understand what killed the baby, I could understand what was killing me. I thought recovery was impossible without such information.
I would like to also go further into the subject of the Royal Family and the suspicions against PRINCE CHARLES for the death of Princess DIANA. I AM CERTAIN HE IS INNOCENT.
I am certain there were two enemies on the night of August 31, 1997. One of them was NOT the Royal Family, and I am certain that Dodi's father was joyously awaiting the arrival of his first grandchild. For some reason, the other women Dodi romanced did not have children.
On September 12, 1997, I had a court date in which Princess Diana was going to formally appear. The circumstances of the legal action had nothing to do with what happened above. It had to do with a fact of my life I have experienced since I was seven-years-old in that there is always someone who tries to steal my writing.
I had written a Hollywood script in follow-up to my book. A major television series wanted to produce it and insisted that I first had to secure from them permission to copyright. I pursued them for this and was threatened with legal action if I ever again approached them.
Instead, the then engaged and eventually married star of the show informed me that he was willing to marry me, without acquiring a divorce, and waited for me to chase after him. Because I decided to comply with their original demands and wait for them to offer me a contract and pay me what they pay their male writers, $30,000 per script, I was called anti-family. He was doing me a favor by giving me this wonderful opportunity. He was just like William. I don't know how I became involved in the same type of people again. I will call this condition, The X-Syndrome.
The script focuses around a museum exhibit which I designed. In my discussion of authority in the Western world, I asked of Diana to offer some of her clothes. At the time, she was co-conspiring with them.
They waited for me to give them the script and exhibit details. The auction of her clothes was upcoming. They decided to financially force me to comply with their demands and had me fired from my job and threatened any prospective employer who contacted them for a reference.
They constantly had people who I associated with ask me if I was working. My prospective husband was convinced that the cure for his problems was to eliminate my obsession with my career and nourish their ambitions. I had been working as a supermarket cashier and office clerk for $7.25/hour.
I finally initiated an action in the courts. I represented myself. I knew how. The judges knew me well and when I, in advance of my filing, sent a message that I am coming, they knew me well-enough to open an investigation first, and read what I had to say later. The judges also knew that if I can't find work, it can't be because I did anything wrong. I wanted back wages.
When Diana came to New York to promote the auction, I asked of everyone how the husband of my prospective husband's co-star was treated by the company. I knew he was an employee. Diana was then the only one who realized how I was being victimized. She left New York insisting that she had many other dresses. She also acknowledged that all those involved in her divorce attempted to play their cards both ways. I was the only one who took her side and stayed on her side. She never thanked me.
Without my knowledge, she contacted the Judge and told him that she will make a formal appearance on the Sept. 12, 1997 date of the preliminary conference. Everyone was instructed not to tell me. I think she was afraid the potential of press involvement might make me nervous.
After she contacted him, Dodi, an associate of another Hollywood production company, fell in love with her and abandoned his fiance.
It was my prospective husband who drove the Fiat. His boss was in a third car which caused the damage to the left rear door of the Mercedes.
There has been some confusion as to the information Dodi's father had on Diana's last words. I know what they were, although it would take me a few more months to understand this.
His boss is no longer his boss but only a writer for the show.
Shortly thereafter, the Court ignored the results of its own investigation and dismissed my case arguing that I had no cause of action. While I acknowledge that I did not mention my cause of action in my complaint, I also must emphasize that I could not without the formal results of the Court investigation. I believed they were terrorizing potential employers, but had witnessed nothing.
I worked for a few months as a result of the Court Action, but shortly after the Court's dismissal I found the harassment too much to bear. This harassment included payroll games, and people leaving dirty tissues at my register.
On Easter Sunday of the year 1998, a wedding was set-up for the two of us. It was in Royal style because, of course, that must have been the reason why I was attracted to William instead of him. It was the last of several weddings which I was expected to be the bride of. The marriage contract had been signed by a New York City government official who understood everyone's concerns that the time spent on the mandatory blood test might jeopardize the profit schedule, as well as distract me from the allurements on the television. I was, after all, a child-hater, anti-family, and had a sex-drive problem. It would be difficult enough for them to help me understand what life was all about, and they didn't need any more time delays. That weekend, I watched no television and told everyone I was away. On the eve of the wedding, I heard the phone ring 11 times.
I was finally allowed to return to work in November of 1998. I acquired the job in the department store. This was after I finally acquired enough common sense to ask the questions which led to the revelations that the prospective husband to whom I was expected to make myself a financial dependent on, or else be called a child-hater, was ten-million dollars in debt, and had no health or life insurances (unlike myself when I worked at the first supermarket).
The debt was resultant of the fact that as they waited for me while I was working, they several times signed contracts with a museum, and then breached and had to pay one million dollars each time. They attempted to avert the last breach-of-contract by having me fired. He paid-off his debt by offering the department store a role in the show with their non-contractual payment of ten million dollars. They took this out of payroll. Henceforth, my boss could not stop crying over the ten-cents-per-hour raise, and her frustrations intensified as I did not cooperate with the demands of the Hollywood production company. But I do NOT believe that this was the reason why I was fired. They needed me too much.
The store was a publicly-owned company, and I do expect one day these people will be criminally prosecuted.
After I left, I realized that the store did not know about the most recent revelation, that my prospective husband had AIDS. He acquired this from all the homosexual favors he had to do to achieve his status as a star. The company understood my actions, but they are still mad at me. I don't think they know why. I believe it is just easier for them to target me for demands than the more powerful people who victimized me.
Diana was the only one willing to testify. She was the only one who understood that promise of matrimony is not an abuse-license. She was a real mermaid, her beauty was her character, and her ideal facial features for maneuvering in the water.
I would like to share with you some photographs of my grandmother, mother and those my mother took of me. Unfortunately, I do not have the name of the professional photographer who took the picture of my mother as a child.
My grandmother was born on April 6th, 1899, in West Prussia, Germany. She referred to the Kaiser's wife as having come from the "English House". She was one of the first women to attend German universities, despite the provost's conviction that women have inferior brains. The provost, therefore, on the first day of the semester, refused to shake hands with the female students as they stood in line with the males as they all shook hands with him. She therefore placed her hand behind her back, gesturing her refusal to shake hands with him, and stuck her tongue-out at him. A few years later a chemistry professor who loved her offered to reserve for her a place in the graduate school. She said, "No thank you." She never stopped hating herself for that mistake. She did one day complete her graduate studies at New York University in the 1960's. She wrote her dissertation on Jungian archetypes.
My mother was born on November 20, 1935. She received a B.A. in history from City College of New York in 1961. She spent 14 years working as a New York State employee. She one day requested investigations because she suspected that the dead were collecting taxpayer money. She was viciously harassed as a result and finally had to resign. I have recently demanded of the Bush Administration to change the way whistleblowers are treated, particularly if he wants to some day build nuclear reactors. Now, over a decade later, I believe that the Federal Department of Labor is still working on this investigation.
I am also including my cat, Meetzy, who received the awe and respect of Hollywood producers after he was quoted in my script. He was very conversational and spoke two words: "oou" ("hi"), and "row-ou" (hel-lo).
He was placed into my hands on August 12th, 1974, when I was seven-years-old. We took our dog, Rombo, to the veterinarians for routine shots. The doctors were a husband-and-wife team. Meetzy, his two siblings and mother, had a few weeks earlier been given to them to be put-to-sleep. One of the cats needed extensive medical attention. For two weeks, they had been trying to find a home for Meetzy. She asked my mother. My mother told her to ask me.
She was delighted for the opportunity. She sat on a love-seat and summoned me by name. I thought I didn't hear correctly because no one important ever wanted to talk to me. My mother then encouraged me. I walked over and sat next to her.
She asked me if I wanted this kitten. This was the first time I noticed she had a cat in her hands. I nodded and she handed him to me. Years later, my mother commented on this moment.
As per the doctor's instructions, we kept the cat in one room for the first week. My mother selected the study.
A few weeks later school began. The teacher instructed us to write a story. After thinking for a long time, I finally decided to write about my first week with him. I called it, "My Pet Kitten".
The teacher took my story to the principal's office. I added to it a few more times, and each time she did the same.
One day, when handing it back to me, I told her I wanted to add some more on it. She said she was afraid that I would compromise its quality by doing too much. I assured her that I will not change anything I already wrote. So she agreed.
My mother begged the principal many times to find it. I could never bring myself to tell her about the conversation. I never cried because I never gave up hope that it was out there someplace.
When I was in middle school, I visited this elementary school. The same principal was still there. Even though the administrative assistant told me I would have to wait to visit him because he had another appointment, he smiled broadly and insisted on seeing me first.
I asked him again, but he said he did not remember what I was talking about.
Twenty-five years later, I had the life experience of a 32 year old. Specifically, it was the experience of realizing who drove the Fiat which helped me understand what happened. I learned that when looking for a serious perpetrator in your life, look directly in front of you, figuratively.
I went back to that moment and looked in front of me. I did not see that whom my mother suspected, the principal. Rather, I saw my girlfriend of many years, and her mother.
I never met the father, despite the fact that I was a guest in their home many, many times. There was only one brief meeting when I was in middle school and I barely saw his face. This was at the supermarket. The mother was not doing her shopping on her usual day, but rather was doing it on a Saturday to bring him and show him the prices he refused to believe. My mother shopped on Saturdays because she worked full time.
The two mothers had a brief friendly chat and then she and her husband took-off.
She had other peculiarities.
In elementary school, my girlfriend and I took ballet lessons together by a private teacher who taught in the school after 3 pm. After this, we would go to her house and my mother picked-me up after work.
One day, my friend told me that her mother could not receive me that afternoon and that the teacher would drive me home.
The teacher knew nothing of this arrangement and furiously told me the whole way home that she had an important appointment for which she would be late.
I felt too guilty and embarrassed to tell my mother.
Now, in my 30's, I understand that I had no way of knowing that her mother had not contacted the teacher, aside from the fact that only my mother had the authority to decide in whose car I am to be driven by. (Although I am certain that my mother would have approved of her driving, but that's not the point.) Furthermore, the teacher's only legal responsibility was to deliver me to the principal's office where I would wait for my mother.
When I looked in front of me and saw this mother, I wrote to William and asked for his help. The father, fortunately, still worked for the same major US company. They still had it on file. She had submitted it as her child's work.
It is my understanding that he was fired and is unable to collect his pension. I find this punishment extreme. I am certain, however, that it was not intended as punishment. The concept of punishment was here applied as a socially adaptive pretext for greed. Because if he can't have the money, I should.
I would rather see the mother acquire a job to pay me compensatory damages for the 25 years of shock she caused.
I still have not seen the story. But I am glad to know it still exists.
In the picture I am holding him, as I always did. Unfortunately, I did not place him on my other side such that he could do his usual gesture of lifting up one paw as high as he could as if he was hugging me. Approximately six hours before he died, he repeated this gesture. A few hours later, as he lay dying of liver cancer on the living room rug, I asked him to speak to me one more time and I recited his vocabulary. He drew all of his energy and said, "hi" one more time.
Dr. Margaret Lehman, my maternal grandmother.
Alisa Doris Lehman.
Photo of me taken by my mother in a sweater she knitted.
Photo of me taken by my mother, in a coat and hood made by my grandmother.
My mother, at age 52, with our dog Fluffy, in a beach-dress she made. The unmake-upped face and un-dyed hair are a result of a combination of vitamin E and health store skin care products she used.
Photo of me taken by my mother in August of 1991 in a dress she designed and made.
My grandmother died on October 24th, 1990. She had broken her hip, survived the surgery, but died a few hours later. My mother died on November 27th, 1991 at age 56. For ten years she had battled breast cancer. She had the lumpectomy, took the vitamins and herbs exactly as the books said to, but the tumors came back.
While my interest in the archetypes came from my grandmother, her interests were directed into the art of Barlach and literature of Kafka. Unfortunately, she never published the latter because a colleague at the university where she instructed one day asked her for a lesson. She gave him a lesson and her ideas. One year later she saw it in print with his authorship.
I always believed that my interest in ethology--the study of animal behavior--is a cross between my mother's history and father's economics. After my mother died, a women who I only met once in my childhood contacted me. She was my grandmother's younger sister. While she had very little formal education, she was self-taught, like both my maternal grandmothers. We learned we had read the same books. I referred her to Elaine Morgan's books, but she couldn't find these in her home of Germany. Our only other difference was that her interest was not in primates, but rather birds. My mother also preferred to study birds.
I am estranged from my father and brother.
I would like very much to share my story conversationally with you. And I would especially like to satisfy my childhood ambition of appearing on the Donahue show, but most of the content of my life can only be told on the internet. The method of communication I share with government officials, and males who say they love me, is a product of my ability to understand language beyond the eloquent word. I know I have been exploited, but don't know how to fight back.
My mother taught me how to sew. One year before she died, she made for me a wedding dress. I knew the Queen did not expect to like it, but didn't know how to say no to it. For my first trip to England, it was demanded of me to bring it. I never met him. He only watched me wander around the palaces. When I returned home I had it photographed. She loved it because no designer could ever take one look at it and mass produce it. She also loved it because it left me, rather than itself, as the center of attention, despite its ornate qualities.
Of course, I had to add a 24-foot train to it. I decorated it using all of the strategies I had learned for store displays in another department store where I previously worked.
I then decided to sew other things.
But the obsession with the clothes I made expanded. At the time of my lung condition, her only concern was the fact that the veil, which I invented and designed to have equal quality appearance before and after the unveiling, did not accommodate a tiara.
They had sales associates in both fabric stores near me monitor my every purchase. Of greatest obsession to them, were four wool remnants of periwinkle blue ranging in size from 3/4 to 1 5/8 yards for a total of six yards. I made a pair of pants, jacket, skirt, dress, cape, and bought trimmings and two different silks for blouses. I have never sent photography and they never stopped nagging.
And when they learned that my mother also knitted clothing, and that I never learned how, that became another obsession.
As I previously stated, I am an anthropologist. Like all anthropologists, it was my obligation to seek and find a culture to study. Unlike most anthropologists, I had an overprotective mother who never let me leave home. When I was enveloped in the matters of her Estate, I found myself at the Surrogate's and Supreme Court. It was there that I found a collection of underdeveloped, un-evolved primates.
I was at the Supreme Court because my attorneys sued me for unpaid fees. I refused to pay them to charge me for the time they spent on their resignation, among other things.
The law firm's name was Banks, Pickett, Gruen and Shapiro. Barbara Pickett was primarily involved in the matters of the Estate. She had more than once suggested to me that I bring her a list of all my household expenses and forms of income so that she could counter-balance these.
She enjoyed boasting proudly to me that she knew that addition could be applied to finance. She charged $200/hour to boast, and she interpreted my lack of interest as my inability to understand the significance of understanding the financial matters of the house. She also suggested that she could serve a maternal role to me.
Of course, every month the banks sends me such a counter-balancing list. It is called a checking-account-statement. And Ms. Pickett charged me to review my mother's checkbook register. She said she was searching for unknown life insurance policies.
Supreme Court Justice Wood was so impressed with her addition consulting business, that he told me on the record in conference that he was ready to set a precedent that the laws which protect me against billing for unsolicited services, did not apply to her addition. Although he did not use that choice of words, he just told me if they think it is necessary, that is advice I must pay for.
I did not discuss the subject of the checkbook register because I first would have had to ask him if he knew how to balance one.
Ms. Pickett had testified at the second trial that if it is her time and energy she charges for it regardless of whether it was solicited. So why did she not just take my mother checkbook register and perform the unsolicited services?
The senior partner, Charles Banks, is currently one of the justices in my town. He is running unopposed for re-election. He never testified at either trial.
At the time of my mother's death, there was another male promising his love for me via the ineloquent communications network. He believed that if he took a small amount of material of mine, changed the words slightly, and copyrighted it before I, that it was his intellectual property.
On this date of October 8th, 2001, I finally understand Prince William's actions of the past few days. He was willing to sacrifice a piece of his masculinity and come to the United States. He didn't, most likely because he could not do this if I still have my web-site.
If I ever do marry, I have decided to add a few items to the marriage ceremony. The priest or minister must open by asking a few questions:
Does either the bride or groom expect to achieve financial dependency from the bond herewith ceremonialized?
Was either the bride or groom subjected to inadaptive social mechanisms and coercion perpetrated by anyone ensuing your stance before me at the altar?
Have the behaviors mandated by the vows soon to be spoken been practiced by both the bride and groom hitherto?
At the time of my possible cancer diagnosis in the Fall of 1999, the Royal Family became obsessed with obtaining keys to my home for acquisition of my wedding dress upon my demise. This, of course, would never have been worn by me, but rather by his future wife. Henceforth, the Queen's obsession with the design of my veil as time was running out.
Over the past 24 hours, I have been reminded of the time it was demanded of me by the Administration of President Billy that I help with negotiations strategies because they did not want to take military action against Iraq. I still remember General Schwartzkopf on television comparing such activity to what happened in Vietnam. He reminisced the cycle of our military actions, which was followed by their emerging before us, "dusting themselves off", and our continued military response.
I was not permitted to work at the time. My prospective husband had just married his fiance. I wanted equal pay for equal work but President Billy took the position that if there is a male willing to allow me to be his financial dependent, I am not owed anything.
The assistance I offered anyway, because I am a pacifist, was behind the scenes. I am no longer in that position.
Over the past two weeks I have seen prices at the gas pump drop substantially. This means to me that we are breaking through. Some of you may express the concerns vocalized by many after the Tiananmen massacres, that sanctions may lead to China's isolation--something which they may easily achieve. However, our coalition is small enough that we need not worry about this, yet large enough that it is a voice which cannot be ignored. We have pledged to use future purchasing power, and as Christmas arrives, this is especially important. For our purposes, the terrorists selected an opportune moment.
Currently, I carry with me at all times the Aerobic 0-7. Unfortunately, this is ineffective against aerobic bacteria because it is a liquid stabilized oxygen which destroys that which cannot feed off of oxygen. I need to compliment it with a substance which can cross the brain-barrier and kill anything else. I currently have a homeopathic ear dropper consisting of grapefruit seed extract and tea tree oil made by Nutribiotic. (As I stated at the beginning of this web-site, I used the former herb to correct possible heart muscle damage. Like the latter herb, it is also a powerful anti-infective.) I selected this because I recently had an ear infection and neither the act of dropping the Aerobic 0-7 into my ear or under my tongue was adequate to kill it, although it was helpful. Either I had two infections, or one infection had more than one character trait.
We have at least some of the technology necessary to render biochemical warriors ineffective.
On this date of October 23rd, 2001, it has been two weeks since I last talked to all of you. On Saturday, my manager suggested I go home after I called him onto the sales floor at an inopportune moment for him (i.e., he was in the bathroom) because I had to vomit. I have become very weak, am no longer eating one full meal a day, and am experiencing a condition in which a multitude of long forgotten memories of every phase of my life are constantly surfacing. I called-in sick on Sunday and Monday also. I had a doctor's appointment yesterday. He instructed me that if I believe I have a brain infection, I must see a neurologist. I made three appointments yesterday with three different doctors and had each place me on an emergency list. I saw the first late yesterday afternoon. He refused to treat me with the only antibiotic which crosses the brain barrier. I had an impossible task of explaining to him what I believed was happening. Either I failed or someone else approached him first.
I believe it is a very quiet killer lying deeply within the brain. While my hair dresser, late in August, clipped a few split ends in the top-back region of my head, I cannot be certain if this is a residual of my earlier hair condition, or indicative of the location of the infection. And if my condition continues, I will be in the hospital soon--a wide open target for attack. At the pharmacy, there were cameras and customers. In the hospital, I can at best hope for one competent witness.
As I stated much earlier in this web-site, I have received rumors that the pregnant pharmacist had problems. The rumors I received were that I would receive all of the blame because I did not pray for the baby. And what I was blamed for was that the baby was born two months early (probably just after I left the pharmacy) and died. This was two months after the alleged affliction. That baby obviously put-up quite a fight.
I believe that there are two sources of diagnostic information I need. I require the sonogramal history of the baby as this was a time of brain development. And I need a copy of the report of the World Health Organization. I know they found the lab in Afghanistan shortly after I left the pharmacy.
I don't know, however, if the latter report will be adequate because I wonder if the "doctor" had an additional lab at Heathrow Airport.
I need a very big favor from everybody. I need you to call the SWEDISH EMBASSY and/or MISSION and tell them that you want the Swedish Academy of Sciences to withhold the Nobel Peace Prize from Kofi Anan until we have the report. I don't believe it is necessary for us to explain the connective nature of the issues, unless they want us to insult their intelligence.
My grandfather was a urological surgeon. It was made very clear to me from my early childhood that antibiotics are not to be abused or used frivolously. But in the face of all of the lies, research fraud, and arguments that I am medically responsible for babies I did not pray for nor informed the mother that babies are treated by pediatricians, I believe he would have said there is no excuse not to try. I believe he would also have told me to make every effort to prevent my condition from worsening and to stay out of the hospital. He also taught me that surgeries must only be performed if it is over-100% necessary. I believe he would have applied this concept to all complicated medical procedures we have today. He died when I was ten years old. My mother relayed most of his messages.
William has finally assumed a medical role. He diagnosed my condition of abdominal swelling as excess body fat and instructed me to go on a diet. After a major search to find the place where I snack during my lunch-break, he instructed the servers of this deli not to serve me.
But if a co-worker of mine is correct, that body fat develops evenly throughout the body, then William's theory is easily refuted.
I would like to give a more detailed history of the illnesses at the pharmacy.
At the time of the reprimand, I told Robert Tesaro that I believed I received two different gases and I reminded him of the fact that one of the pharmacists is pregnant. I also cited Riaz Hussein's disciplinary history with the New York State Board of Regents and said, "This is a stick of legal dynamite." He was indifferent to these issues. Robert gave me a telephone number to call of a service which CVS, among other companies, uses to provide employees with social workers.
I called, and was told repeatedly by a social worker her extremely well-rehearsed line that the legal responsibility for preparing prescriptions was that of the pharmacists'. I said she was correct and added that is not the only legal issue involved. I cited the fact that the overnight manager counseled Hussein's relatives who occupied the pharmacy that if anything is missing, they will be blamed. She repeated herself and repeated herself. This line was supposed to work, it didn't. I told her how sick I was and that in the fall of 1999, my relatives were told to plan the funeral. She said I must be in need of psychological help. I told her of my family medical background and that I was well prepared for such moments. She persisted. I finally analyzed her academic rank of which she was so-proud and compared it to my grandfather's. She changed her attitude and acknowledged she could not make health recommendations based on our brief phone conversation. I asked for her name, which she reluctantly gave. She lost the battle for William.
It was in January of this year of 2001 that Riaz Hussein appeared at the pharmacy. Shortly thereafter, a co-worker who worked with him, who never calls-in sick, called-in sick for a week-and-a-half. He was under a doctor's care who, as my doctor originally did for me, placed him on the same antibiotics I was given. I suspect that he eventually used the technique of inhaling the antibiotics, but I have never been certain of this.
On one evening that I departed early, I left behind another co-worker. I told her what the problem was. I also explained his disciplinary history with the New York State Board of Regents. She then became very sick and was also placed on various antibiotics including that which I was given. She missed so much work that I am sorry I did not count the days. Her illness persisted.
Shortly after the reprimand, I did a day shift with Riaz Hussein. On this same day, a cartoon appeared on the pharmacy refrigerator door featuring a girl of semi-long hair, such as mine, with a "go home" notice in her hands. She was commenting that she did not mind being unable to pay her bills as long as the CEO received a large bonus.
This brings me to my next issue. Would CVS have normally hired someone with such a background with the New York State Board of Regents? Why did they hire this one? Why was a schedule created in which I would be all alone with him at 11 pm at night?
I know that one explanation is that William wanted me to accept him as an exemplification of British excellence in medicine. If I had any amount of British blood, I would be extremely insulted by this not only because of his background, but because of his New York/Afghani accent. But, of course, William's ultimate goal was to make me feel safe enough that I would want to buy a plane ticket and return to England. I want an MRI performed on his brain.
On my last day, hours before I became too sick to work, and minutes before my temper flared, I saw my co-worker going home early, very sick, again. As she waited for her mother to pick her up because she could no longer drive, I asked to speak to her for a minute. She nicely agreed.
The pregnant pharmacist was a few steps away as I reminded her of the time I went home early and that I believed he was gassing the pharmacy. She acknowledged remembering all of this. I told her she was gassed and that is the nature of her health problems. She gave a bitter thank you.
I saw her once since. I worry about her.
This was when my temper went out of control. She was ten years younger than I. It was so unfair, and so easily preventable.
I took the lead technician, Cathy Calcutti, aside before she went home for the day demanding to talk to her. I directed her toward the back of the pharmacy. I asked of her to remember the moment after my reprimand in which I said to her that I had no obligation to work all alone at 11 pm with someone with a criminal background. I also asked her to remember her response being that was an issue for upper management to deal with.
She held her position steadfastly. I'm sorry I never asked her if she would allow one of her children to be all alone at 11pm with someone with a criminal background.
She insisted nothing had happened to me, and that the company would never hire anyone who would harm me. (I hope she does not care for her children using this latter philosophy.) I insisted that the law states that I need not be correct, only reasonable in my assumptions. She insisted I had to wait until the conviction. I then wished the same "nothing" fate on her daughter and walked away. I returned to the registers amazed at my own ability to pretend that nothing was happening to me. I vented nothing at the customers, and everything at them.
I then started to release my anger at Robert Tesaro, the pharmacist who gave me the reprimand. I should also point-out that the reprimand was despite all of the times I was woken-up in the morning or dragged-out of my bath and asked to come in early, and all the times I was asked to stay late in the evening, and make trips with my car to other stores without receiving reimbursement for the gasoline. I additionally always gave the lead technician complete authority over my schedule. I never complained. My only restrictions were the emergency doctors appointments. These occurred very rarely because I was running out of places to go.
As I was venting my anger, citing his disciplinary background, and the agricultural events then occurring in England, the pregnant pharmacist made her proud entry into the boxing ring by stating, "A person is innocent until proven guilty."
I told her that issue has legal parameters. "My God," I said, "you are a college graduate." She retreated in defeat.
We were not talking about whether or not we were placing him in jail. We were talking about whether or not I have a Constitutional right as a United States citizen to deem a work environment unsafe and leave two hours early on two different occasions. The day I do not have that right, and the day that only a conviction can reverse a reprimand, is the day that this is no longer a democracy.
But I didn't say any of that. I wish I had.
What if I was mistaken about the identity of Riaz Hussein? I told Robert of my suspicions more than 24 hours before my first act of early departure for which I was reprimanded. He had every opportunity to contact the human resources manager and explain the situation. All they had to do was tell me his whereabouts in July of 1998. I am certain they must have had this information, or else something else is wrong. And as I stated earlier, he had not practiced in many years. There were too many consistent facts. By a preponderance of the evidence, it therefore must be concluded that the reprimand was unConstitutional.
At the time of 24 hours before the reprimand, there is no excuse, in my opinion, for the fact that the pregnant pharmacist was not transferred-out for precautionary reasons.
I would like to continue to tell the ridiculous story of my life in backwards chronological order. I would like to return to the events of the script and The X-Syndrome.
It was not only required of me to surrender copyright of the script to my prospective husband, it was also demanded of me to choose between him and the book. I refused. I was, of course, called a child-hater.
In addition to surmising that I hated children, had a sex-drive problem, was anti-family, and placed career before family, they also suggested I might be afraid of childbirth. After the live performance of the birth of a child on the internet, they expected me to approach them and tell them that I am all over that now, and will submit to all pre-impregnation demands.
It was assumed that because he has celebrity status, he must be very wealthy. Of course, wealth is an issue of money-management--a concept completely unknown to him.
There were many people in my life who cooperated. Some were non-aquatic and minimally-aquatic apes who anticipated large payments, such as my former employer who anticipated that free advertising should deliver more than ten million dollars in revenues.
There were also aquatic apes who took the position that because these are powerful people, they have no interest in harming me. It was their understanding that the constant harassment must be because I am refusing their much needed help. What they did not understand was that even if it was help they were offering, I have a Constitutional right to refuse it.
At my place of work, they had two minimally-aquatic co-workers pressure me heavily to see a psychologist to control my increasing anger. But the concept of increasing anger was only a socially adaptive pretext. What they really wanted to understand was why I refusing such a wonderful offer for marriage and children. They were obviously planning on influencing such a psychologist to release to them all private information on me.
It was insisted that the movie will deliver guaranteed advertising for my book. I argued there is no such thing as guaranteed advertising. This was more evidence confirming my condition as "crazy". During this period of time that I was forbidden from working (because Constitutional applications could not be made to issues of male impotence), I realized that my prospective-husband had assumed the role as director. I knew he was incompetent on this issue. I reminded everyone that many features of the movie were already filmed, including the scene in which the show's star finds a copy of my book which the anthropologist left in his office for him.
The scene was performed to humiliate me.
He did not want me working full time while being a mother. The show, however, had a long list of tasks for me to do post-nuptially. But because the only payments were impregnation-sex, this was not considered working. He guaranteed my performance because he promised to beat-me-up if I failed to comply.
The department store was given some free advertising on a news show for Mother's Day of 1999. (The ads did not include either of my departments.) The general manager was very excited about this and anticipated a stampede of customers. Instead, we did half of what was planned while both my departments were up statistically. Nonetheless, the store at a later date gave the ten million dollars. They then refused to issue raises and lost at least one good person. She was our fitting room person. She was a high school student who was considering matching her career to her job. She found another job instead. We missed her so-much. Although we received new fitting room people, they all had to be trained.
I have tried very hard to understand what happened at the time I was forbidden from working. I have thought often about someone who was a good friend in high school, and later became an enemy.
At the time we each departed for college, I was baffled at her selection despite all the schools she was admitted to. I now understand that she selected the best place to catch a husband.
Exactly nine months before she graduated college, she sexually attacked the guy she resolved to drag down the aisle. She proclaimed the sexual act was an unplanned act of passion. She classified herself as a hero because she assumed responsibility for her actions by marrying him and loving her child.
She had two more children, and a marriage which was violent. But her most important priority was financial dependence on him. Children were nothing more to her than financial dependency mechanisms. She did not want to get a job.
Shortly before the time of my mother's death, the other client of the Estate's law firm (i.e., the person who was a menace to me at the time, while promising to become my husband) asked her and her mother for help. In anticipation of all the money they would receive, the mother immediately bought a Volvo Station Wagon, and my former friend and her husband bought a home. The mother selected a station wagon to prove she has lots of babies. It is her way of life.
The help my former friend issued to him was a condolence call she made to me in early December of 1991 in which she asked questions he needed answers to. These included if I am named the sole owner of the house, and where my mother is buried. He needed this information to ascertain if I am soon moving. He was concerned because he had a comfortable nest of spies around me.
Just before Christmas, I made it very clear to her that if she ever worked for him again, I would tell everyone that she was married in her fifth month of pregnancy.
Their only means of earning a living was now deprived of them. Her husband left. She sold their home and returned to her mother with the three children. But a condition of her homecoming was that she give her mother some of the proceeds from the house so she could catch-up with car payments. She gave her the money.
It was my former friend's understanding that because she has children, she has financial dependency status. She then approached two local merchants and acquired two of my credit card numbers. I used one to purchase my asthma medication, and the other for gasoline. An extra charge of the exact amount of my medication was added, as were charges of gas for the approximate amounts I usually purchased. I noticed both charges and stopped the credit cards. She then pulled her most important weapon on me and called me a child-hater. Like most taxpayers, I was oblivious to this charge.
Eventually, her husband did run-out of money and moved in with her. She became pregnant again and he left again. She waited for him, convinced he had obligations toward her. In her third trimester, she aborted using a drug and buried the baby in the yard. She was arrested, but made the allegation that he had poisoned her. There was no legal follow-up.
Her mother was also a peculiar type. She also considered children to be financial dependency mechanisms. After her fifth child, who was born while I was in high school, the father resolved not to have any more children. She then crawled into bed with her oldest son, who impregnated her. The father then often beat her mother while my former friend and her older sister were hiding in the closet downstairs. They understood it was about their mother and brother, but did not know what it was. The brother went to college, and as the youngest child became old enough to enable her to go out and work, she summoned the brother home for a semester to impregnate her again. Rather than incur more of her husband's wrath, she aborted. When my former friend had her first baby, this mother attempted to kidnap her. She always needs a baby.
My former friend's first child was a daughter who became pregnant when she turned 13. It was her understanding that she was now a financial dependent on the taxpayers. Her mother could not tolerate the embarrassment and had her abort.
So that no one would notice she had been pregnant, my former friend took her daughter to several doctors until she finally found one who told her what she wanted to hear; that her daughter had type I diabetes and required injections every four hours.
She selected diabetes rather than cancer because some of the symptoms resemble that of pregnancy. She selected type I because she believed she could now demand of her husband to help with the injections. Of course, he didn't.
Her whole life enveloped around a husband and establishing her status of financial dependency. I do not envelop my life around this issue. I believe in marriage for love and that children are the products of such love.
Before I depart from this computer for the day, and eat my one partial meal, I would like to return to the subject of how I herbed myself.
Just before and after I left the pharmacy in late March of this year, I went into the vitamin stores and took everything home I had not tried. I put together the following combination which, after taken for approximately two weeks, eliminated one aspect of the abdominal swelling--the region just below the rib cage. The naval region remains. These also helped keep my alive until I found the Aerobic 0-7.
Yohimbe herb and Artichoke leaves which additionally treated temporarily the chronic asthma. The former is used to treat male impotence as it acts on the brain. The latter is used to treat the liver.
L-Glutathione and L-Cysteine which are amino acids for the brain.
Pygeum, Saw Palmetto, and Kudzu extracts which are also herbs. The former two are used to treat male prostate problems and impotence, while the latter is used to treat alcoholics. I assume that it treats alcoholics because it acts on the liver. What these immediately accomplished for me was relief of some of the swelling.
Ginko biloba which is an herb commonly used for memory problems, which I had.
Catuaba herb for the swollen legs and ankles. This herb is more commonly used for male problems also. Eventually, these particular issues of swelling were eliminated by the cure for my thyroidal condition of Grave's disease.
L-Glutamine is another amino acid which may have helped, but I am not certain how.
Brazilian Suma and Hup A are also herbs. The former is used for male problems and the latter to enhance brain activity. These also somehow helped.
Selenium is also commonly used for the brain and it too somehow contributed to this small success.
Wobenzym, Oregon Grape Root, Burdock, Vitex, Potassium, L-Taurine and L-Tyrosine were also helpful in boosting my energy level and swelling-reduction.
Glucosamine Sulfate also boosted my energy level.
Three creams consisting of Ginko biloba, St. John's Wort, and MSM with Glucosamine were applied to the region of the brain stem my hair dresser identified as a problem. I used the St. John's Wort because I found an UNproven theory that it is not an anti-depressant but rather a natural antibiotic working on misdiagnosed people. That description fit my situation perfectly. When I used each of the creams, I felt these hit the infection. I believe these helped to control its spread.
At one point during my employment in the pharmacy, I commented that I was hungry for a salami sandwich. The pregnant pharmacist then yelled across the pharmacy, "So no wonder you are bloated." I angrily promised to diet. She changed her attitude. She acquired the salami sandwich for me as she combined my order with hers so we had an order large enough for the deli to deliver.
Around Christmas of 2000, Andrew insisted on pictures of me. He appreciated other photography I showed him of me in two of the dresses I made. But he wanted more.
I decided to submit because I enjoyed his attention and I wanted everyone to see the abdominal region.
I took the photographs myself in the mirror. I wore an outfit I made for myself. I described it to him earlier in one of our middle-of-the-night phone conversations. I explained it has a little train and a veil.
He answered, "Oh, I see, it's a bride."
"It's black lace," I corrected.
"Oh, it's a naughty bride."
I confirmed her naughtiness.
The pictures were, of course, circulated. Up until this moment, I classified my condition as bloated. Everyone corrected me insisting it was swollen. I now believe it is the most noticeable symptom of the very quiet infection.
At the time of my mother's death, the other client to the law firm which administrated my mother's Estate (who was also my menace of the time), attempted to financially force me to pursue him and propose to him.
It was before my mother's death that he went to the Family Court and arranged that the alimony payments would stop. These, and the child-support payments, had been garnisheed from my father's salary since I was three-years-old. I know my father did not request this cessation of the courts because I asked him of it a few months later. Furthermore, if he had sufficient knowledge to do this, he would have done it at the time the child support stopped. And, of course, my mother would have been served with such papers. He did not understand that the Family Court had no jurisdiction after the child support payments ceased.
While I was handling the Estate, I attempted to do what my mother could not in her condition--understand what happened to these payments and acquire the above information. I still have the governmental letters avoiding the issues. Finally, after calling me a child-hater because I was taking-up too much of his time with this simple question, the official turned me over to his supervisor who finally told me about the court document which was filed.
At the time the menace did this, he had spy-neighbors constantly demand of me to "get a job." He was attempting to play the game that I should go job-hunting, see what I could find, and then realize I must go to him for money.
A few weeks before my mother died, a bank teller attempted to steal $4,500 out of her hands. It was the last time she was out of the house.
We went to the drive-thru window to make a deposit. The teller insisted that my mother is not entitled to a receipt. We drove off and then suddenly realized that isn't right. We drove back. There was another teller at the window. The first one was there but refused to look at us. They no longer had the deposit ticket my mother submitted, and the check was not in the drawer, but rather placed to the side away from the window. She filled out a duplicate form which was not in triplicate. She refused to fill it out correctly. As time passed, the person in the car behind us honked angrily. The manager was called-over.
She invited my mother into the lobby. My mother refused insisting she was too sick. My mother explained what wasn't filled out. The manager completed it correctly. When she handed it back to us my mother said, "I always get this."
She asserted, "No it isn't. I've been with the bank many years."
We reviewed the handwritten account number to make certain it was correct. It was. But the manager became nervous and asserted, "You are holding up the line." The person behind us honked more and more. We finally left.
Among the issues I had with the law firm was the fact that they lied to me about my accessibility to the life insurance money. They said some paperwork needed to be completed first. They also insisted that as we waited, I needed Barbara Pickett's Addition Consulting Business to make investment decisions.
She was against the concept of diversity in the portfolio. Instead, while referring to US Obligations as "safe", rather than the professionally used term of "safest", she insisted I should invest ALL of the liquid assets into such to acquire the interest rate at the time. In testimony at trial, she did not indicate that ALL of this money needed to be invested to acquire this rate. The Judge was very impressed with her understanding of finance. This would have been included in his precedent.
Also of issue at the trial was the fact that I was handed page 5 of the probate petition to sign in absence of the four preceding pages. This was easily proven by the facts that she notarized my signature on a date in which they did not have all of the information necessary to complete this document, and that she only committed her notarized signature after such date. The dates are easily verifiable by the itemized bill they submitted to the Court.
In this petition, I verified the validity of the probate package.
I hope the next time I talk to you will be after I receive the only anti-biotic which crosses the brain barrier. I would like to thank you in advance for all of your help and hope I won't need it again.