Every time I hear Freddy, I miss my older sister. Sometimes I am not clear if the tears I weep at Freddy are for the non-relationship I have with my sister, or they are the process of mourning the loss of the gift of Freddy.
I think it is the loss of love.
Freddy, as I have learned from listening to him speak, is all about love. Freddy sang about love, because he loved love.
My older sister, was my first best friend. EVER. I loved her, and I still love her today, but we do not speak.
Perhaps the tears that keep falling as I watch all the bio programs on Freddy today, the anniversary of his death are for the loss of the expression of love.
My sister and Freddy are intricately connected in my world, when my sister choreographed a dance to the song Bohemian Rhapsody. She taught it to me. As a child, I spent HOURS with that album. My nose was buried in the lyrics sheet and I would stop whatever I was doing when mom played A Night at The Opera, and curl up on the floor near the heater vent, and read along.
I can rejoice in what Freddy left behind. It will never die. Freddy Mercury will live forever, as long as there is a way to let his songs play.
I don’t have many things tied to my sister that don’t eventually bring a tear to my eye…because of the chasm between us. My hope is that one day, we can love one another again. Not that either one of us has ever stopped…but the space between us has gotten so big, I don’t know if it can ever come together again. Nothing will ever stop the hope.
Not even death has stopped the love of and for Freddy Mercury.
I’m still living here as I write this and I have NO idea if she checks my blog or not, but I need to not lose this so 13-263812 Officer Hancock. Yesterday I was held against my will by the tax evading, illegal landlord, who happens to also be a liar and a thief. The catering gig I blogged about months ago, was the first theft incident. Shorting me money was one thing but stealing money and product the client paid for was another. The client, my friend, is a tax preparer so she asked for all the receipts. She easily found the discrepancies and wanted to confront her then, but since I had to live there, we opted to stay quiet and not cause waves.
The officer I spoke with yesterday advised me I was well within my rights to have her arrested on kidnapping, that the courts would slap her with a no contact and she would have to vacate the premises till I am out. When you block a door and hold someone in a place they are trying to leave, the police call that kidnapping. I opted not to do that and left an informational report. If she comes at me again I am to call him and he will arrest her.
Collect information. Get as many details as you can about the company or person you suspect of tax evasion, including names, addresses and tax number. Be prepared to explain why you believe there is fraud involved, how many years it’s been happening, and how much money the suspected person or company may have failed to report.
File a form. The Internal Revenue Service, many states and some local taxing authorities have a website to report tax evasion. They will ask for as much information as you can provide about the situation.
Send a letter. Write down the information and put it in a letter to the IRS or other tax agency. You can also obtain a copy of the form they use, fill it out and mail (or fax) it to them. Click the link for more information.
I got subpoenaed at the beginning of the month, because I have twice picked up the phone to call 911 on the neighbors. It was the second call that did it, because booming was taken away and arrested. After speaking with the prosecutor, he told me he was pressing charges.
I sat in the KRJC really NOT wanting to be there. I was angry that I had to take MY time, from MY day, to deal with this bullshit, especially since I had heard he was claiming self-defense, and she was refusing to press charges.
I get it. I’ve been there. I had a husband and a daughter at the same time once. I took it and took it and took it, because I wanted my daughter to have a father who was present. Unlike what I had. I also took it because I didn’t believe in myself or my abilities. I also took it because no one ever picked up the phone and called the police on us or tried to do anything that would have or could have gotten is help.
Even the trips to the ER, where he sat by my side, the ever dutiful spouse, never leaving me unless he was asked to…no one ever asked me, “Is he hurting you? Did new york steaks REALLY fall out of the freezer and split your head open, or did he have something to do with it as well?
I didn’t WANT to be someone who fed the cycle through inaction. I may as well walk next door, pop Shrill in the face, call her a bitch and walk off if that’s the case, because inaction is condoning, and I do NOT condone violence on another human unless your life is on the line and you need to defend yourself.
Still…sitting there, staring at doors that have never led me any where good, I was getting pissed. THIS is what I get for trying to stop abuse? Well, no wonder no one ever gave a fuck or called 911! Who wants to go through this???
I sat there, shaking, remembering, remembering, remembering, wanting to panic and run. It took EVERYTHING I had to stay. I could have sat IN the courtroom, but I didn’t want to hear it so I let the prosecutor know I was there and would be in the hall. After four hours of watching people in the midst of trauma, the prosecutor came out and told me, “Mr. Booming plead guilty. He has some things to do for the court, but your services here are not needed. Thank you for talking with me on the phone and thank you for coming.”
He was very kind and had a good vibe about him, but I was happy as a pig in shit to leave.
If it happened again today, I would do the same thing.
I would call 911 again, because I simply, DO.NOT.CONDONE.
My Spirit has sort of been on an unscheduled vacation.
I had many “things” happen at once, and though I didn’t let any of it incapacitate me as it has in the past, I sort of “lagged” like a computer too taxed.
I’m happy to say I am coming out of it. It took time, silence while pondering, my good friends, doing a couple of things that made me feel happy, and letting go of people and emotions that don’t serve anything good.
I’m happy to have gotten to this point before Seattle’s dreary season starts. It is hard going into the grey when you are feeling negative already.
Not ton’s to say, just wanted to check in and write something since I have been slacking off as my little Apple iBook 4g, with Firefox 3.6 (lulz) on it was dying. My Schenectady daughter got me a rebuild with a newer Windows OS on it, so I am pretty much in hog heaven now, though I miss Samantha, my stolen Dell. I got ALL my music off my external that I donated to work last year and onto this lappy, but I now need to get a new external for this because I’d rather have my tunes on that since I have so much to use.
I got a new job, but am keeping my other two. Lazy bitch right? This one I am actually contracted out, so I had to get a tax ID, but that means I am a business owner. LULZ! I also hope to keep writing and want to get something else published.
Things are going to start happening again. I always know when something is in the wind, or “on the way” and true to form, I can feel it coming on. I’m glad. I am ready for some change and welcome something new.
For the last two years, I have been an absolute, non-assertive, pussy. I’ve avoided confrontation as much as I could. I try; and usually succeed in looking beyond a person’s worst, to find the WHY, and then understand.
I’ve looked for the reflections I’m seeing of myself in others.
Usually, I find them.
Today I lost my patience with my room-mate. I’ve been here since march 15th, and after six months…
I could list the many things that I allow to push me to the point of reaction, but I feel that would be petty to do to someone who isn’t here to defend herself. I can say today was the wrong day to place her own personal well-being upon my shoulders.
I did indeed react, and said quite loudly that she is a crazy fucking nut-bag. I can’t take that one back, and I feel bad that I said it, but there is truth to it. Maybe, to her…I am just as crazy. I mean…I would just as soon walk away and not interact with her because I never know which version of her I am going to get. I shut down and just tune her out.
Having said that, anyone who has read me knows I have been there, fractured, flailing, insecure and never looking within for my happiness and worth.
I think anyone’s patience only goes so far. I get that I am not responsible for making her feel secure about her.
I have been “on the outs” with everyone in my family, except my mom the last few years.
All of us have our individual and group issues and I think we all had our own work to do, but the separation has not been easy on me.
I have, for lack of a better word, felt banished. Yet, with my younger sister, I kept trying.
Within the last six months, things have started coming together and I feel lucky to have her back in my life. There is a sense of belonging and unity, but also deep love.
I am not able to put what I am feeling into words. Two words come to mind:
Humbled and loved.
Last night was the first time my younger sister and I have ever gone out for a night out together. She took me to The Showbox to see Adam Ant. I was nervous about going. Part of me wanted to bail, but she had done this as an early birthday present, and because music has always been a bond in my family. I felt the need to walk my talk.
Adam, still rocks a pirate outfit, as well as his stage, and looks related to Mr. Depp. The show was incredibly awesome, in the sold out venue. I had done some reading on his life today before the show and was really looking forward to seeing him. I was a huge lover of Kings of The Wild Frontier, and it’s been years since I used to hang out at The Showbox. I chose carefully, the memories I allowed to flow into my head from the past. Some people don’t deserve rent in my head. That’s healthy for me, if I don’t want to nurture old emotions, but focus on healthy and new ones.
Afterward, we went to Pike’s Pub and had tea (she) and water (me) while waiting for our ride. We went up onto 1st Ave and I grabbed a smoke and who should go by on a Pedi-Cab but Guy Fieri from Food Network’s Triple D (Diners, Drive-ins and, Dives) I wasn’t sure it was him till I caught this view:
As his Pedi-Cab went down the sidewalk I yelled, “Bye Guy” and he waved. It was funny.
I do love my family, even those still not willing to participate in being family.