CRIME AND COVER-UP: Diary of a Marked Woman
... opened the date manager which showed the months of December and of January side by side with the 31st circled in red, and watched the little red circle jump at midnight to January 1st, 2004.
I drank 3/4th of the champoo, put a teaspoon handle in the opening of the bottle and finished it in the afternoon. It was still bubbly so this trick works and I recommend it to all singles, I mean SOLITARY people. Other people don't have leftover champagne I guess.
Like all traditional celebrations, I had my happy moment THE DAY AFTER when other people feel blue. That's when I think with a big sigh of relief: "At last it's over!" Oh, by the way, Happy New Year!
Thurs. the 22nd I just added this green background color. It looked fainter on the hexacolor sample, I expected something more pastel. Let's see how it goes, maybe I'll be fed up with it in a month or two. At any rate, it's not a bad idea to start the year with a background the color of hope.
Wed. the 11th Not much going on except I keep being harassed by people playing little skits, aka "Street Theater" everywhere I go: at the two bakery shops, th supermarket, the internet place, the newspaper and copy shop... I have grown to expect it so much that what surprises me is when nothing happens. For instance I've been at the internet space for about an hour already and nothing happened! Very strange.
It will be a week tomorrow that my hot water stopped working so I've been heating water and pouring it and using it sparingly like in the old days. Surprisingly, there's something pleasant in handling water. I like the noise it makes, the noise of thz lid on the big pot, and the feeling of the weight getting lighter when one pours. It may not be very many years until we have to use water this way again. So, us babyboomers will have lived at the end of the pre-industrial age, finding all these outdated artifacts at our grandparent's homes (kerosene lamps, candleholders, ceramic washbasins and matching waterjugs, washstands, chamber pots...) and will come to consider them not as quaint "antiques" but when all the oil's used up, we'll NEED them!
Handling water and enjoying it reminds me of this little girl, maybe two years old, who lived next door when I was at 19 West 103rd in NYC. I wanted her to play in my place and, not having any toys to give her, I perched her on a chair and put her in front of the sink with a small saucepan, a small tin coffee pot and a strainer. She just loved playing with water, pouring it from one container to the other, passing it through the strainer etc. Every day she came to my studio and all she said was "Water!" and as soon as I let her in she went straight to the chair and carried it to the sink, climbed on it with great difficulty because she was so small but with remarkable determination, and played with water for hours. Well, "played" is not the right word because she was dead serious about it. She was discovering something very important in her life and experimenting with it, like she was supposed to. It reminded me also of how, when I was about the little girl's age, I was floored by the discovery that hot water came from cold water. Until then I had thought that they were two different things because they came from two different taps, but one day when I got a little stove for Christmas I realized that the heat transformed cold water into hot water and this was a major breakthrough in my understanding of life.
I can't explain why the hot water stopped working in my apartment. I did all the checks I could think of. Last Friday I went to the electricity company (EDF) and, wouldn't you know it, the place was closed. It was being renovated. I went there about a year ago and it was a very modern place, I don't see why it needed renovating but there it is, and a man came to me and suggested I go to the nearest EDF office. I can't explain this breakdown unless someone tampered with the installation from the outside.
Sun. the 15th: I think the whole point of all this harassment is to show me that nobody respects me, THEREFORE that I'm a piece of shit. Excuse me but just because you bribe some underpaid counter girl to disrespect me doesn't prove that I'm worthless. It only shows how unhappy, how utterly miserable you are to resort to such lowly tricks. Think about it folks, what state of mind a person has to be in to go around paying the checkout people at the stores in the nabe to be insolent and rude to me! If these family members who do this had an atom of happiness in their hearts, and a speck of self-respect, they wouldn't resort to such lowly tricks. The reason they are bribing the counter and checkout personnel at the bakery and the supermarket to treat me like dirt is because my folks want me to feel like they feel, which is like doo-doo. I would feel the same if I had done to my daughter/sister what they did to me. They painted themselves into a corner because they have gone very, very far in the wrong direction and turning back would involve an acknowledgment on their part that they have done something wrong, and they are too proud to admit it.
As to me, I did the excruciatingly painful work of facing the facts back in the 80's and 90's, I envied people who were self-confident and happy with their own selves. I thought it would never happen to me, to be one day able to like and respect myself, but the hard work paid off. Now I'm quite a happy go lucky, I don't feel a demon eating at my insides day and night like I felt until my mid-forties. I killed the damn beast and now I'm at peace with myself, and no matter what happens, nothing and nobody will ever be able to take my peace away from me. So, now, my brothers and sisters and my mother, you may have some real estate to your name, some tax-free wads of cash and you think you were very smart because you broke a number of laws to achieve that and didn't get caught because you bribed the law enforcement off your back, but you're not at peace! The devil is chewing at your entrails day and night, that's why you need to convince yourself that you did nothing wrong by "proving" to yourself that nobody respects me. Because you can't respect yourself in the first place. I wouldn't trade places with you for the world.
Wed. the 18th I sent a letter to Mom around the 10th informing her that the RMI administration, in violation of its own laws, terminated my monthly allowance and that now I was in the red, and asking her to please remember her promise not to leave me in the lurch when I was still in the US and we were discussing my return, and send me €1,500 so I could live for a while and do some textile creations. Today I received her reply:[quote]Feb. 16, 2004
Brigitte, Your letter received on Saturday didn't leave me indifferent. I'm sending you two small bills so you can go to the internet space -I think you have to pay for it- so you can do some sanitizing work because what you have written about the family is an offensive calumny and an infamy. I had already talked to you about it in my Christmas letter I sent you with the check. Did you receive it?
If I sent you money before you did this [sanitizing my website] it would be cowardice on my part and contrary to elementary justice. I hope you have reflected and matured during your voluntary withdrawal. Mommy.[unquote]
OK, she says that my letter didn't leave her indifferent, so where's the money I asked for? She sends me €30 -yes, THIRTY EUROS- but not for my own living expenses, for her own comfort, to pay for internet time while I "sanitize" my website. So in what way does she show that she's not indifferent to my plight? The only concern she shows is for herself.
She says she already mentioned it in her X-mas letter she sent together with the check. False again. She wrote me about it [my website] last May, and when I spent ten days at her house last July after escaping from the loony bin where I had been assaulted and injured by a heavy set madwoman, Mom said to me "I'm giving you until the end of the week to clean up your website" which was a threat because it implied an "or else". Besides she didn't send me a check last X-mas and she didn't mention the subject in her letter. What she did was deposit €150 -yes, ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY EUROS- shortly after €300 in fifties disappeared from the book where I thought it was hidden in my bedroom.
Next she says that "it would be cowardice" of her to give me money before I did the "clean up". As usual she always invokes moral grounds to do her misdeeds. Anyway I don't remember her ever showing anything like courage so since when is she concerned about taking the high road? Once again, what she is doing is called EXTORSION. It's such a habit for her that she doesn't even realize that she's doing it.
She also says that it would be "contrary to elementary justice" to send me money before I complied with her extortionate demand. Once again she invokes lofty sounding concepts -elementary justice- to do me harm. She's been doing this as long as I've known her and it always caught me short. How can you disagree with someone who acts in the name of moral principles? The trick is that she has always evaded her duties and violated the law in the name of christian or moral principles, and this recent example is only one among a thousand during my lifetime.
I want everybody who reads this to take notice that this has been one of the tenets of my mother's education principles: harm her children in the name of fairness, justice and other humanitarian concerns.Now I'm asking everybody to reflect, put him or herself in the shoes of a child who must sacrifice his or her needs for a "greater good" day after day, month after month, year after year. What being always sacrificed in the name of christian principles does to the child's self esteem? What does it do to his intellectual, emotional and moral development to always be the one who must be sacrificed, to know that everybody is always above him or her?
In the same manner as the child must be sacrificed in the name of Jesus Christ or Justice and Fairness, she (ok, I'm talking about myself) also must ALWAYS give in to her mother's desires because her mother's desires are law, and since she loves her mother she wouldn't think of refusing her anything. So the mother takes advantage. The child always gives way to her mother, always GIVES IN, always allows her mother to be first, to be the best singer, the most beautiful, the sexiest, the smartest, the most everything because the mother has decided to compete with her daughter, in violation of a universal rule that requires the mother to give her daughter self-confidence by congratulating her for her achievements, even the smallest. Why, that's what noodle necklaces are for. But even when, before I could read, I designed myself and then embroidered a very prophetic octopus for her birthday, she didn't crack a smile. She never congratulated me for anything! Whatever prowess I accomplished, it was never enough to warrant at least a "good job!" comment from her.
So how can she complain now that I resent her for having hidden from me my own qualities, how can she complain now that I resent her for having blamed me for the very symptoms of my unhappiness? So that it was only after many years of self-therapy that I actually could say I knew myself, my own qualities, and was able to actually accept and appreciate myself and my fine God-given qualities? My website testifies to this work of cognitive therapy.
At this point it seems necessary to state the law:
FREEDOM OF THOUGHT AND OF EXPRESSION: our cherished democratic liberties. Just like my mother has the right to think that I am subhuman and "life undeserving of life" (so that murdering me is not really wrong), so have I the right to think that she's a psychopath and a fount of corruption. I also have the right to express my opinion. I have the inalienable right to write my memoirs and if they are unflattering to my mother, well tough luck. (It proves that she never expected me to live to tell my story, because she was on notice since the early Sixties that I had a talent for writing and I told her in 1990 that I wanted to write my life story). I didn't ask her to stick to me like my shadow! I even put the Atlantic Ocean between us to shake her off me but she wanted to show me that she can ruin my life even when I'm overseas. So she can't have it both ways, eat her cake and have it too, ruin my life and then complain that I say unflatering things about her. If she stayed where she belongs, which is in the background of my life, instead of being the prime mover, I wouldn't have so much to say about her, and then it would be sweet things.
I started hearing complaints about my website last May but so far nobody has sued me for defamation. Under French law, a person has THREE MONTHS after publication of the offending speech to sue for defamation by first notifying with a registered letter. Since nobody has sued so far, it means that everything I have posted since last year is admitted as true, and that includes a lot of criminal acts on the part of my folks.
Under French law, a person who is mentioned in the press in a manner he or she judges unflattering has the right to set the record straight (it's called "droit de r?onse" and the publisher of the offending article is obigated to publish the correction. So I invite my mother to correct the record where she feels unfairly attacked and I will publish her answer. Or she can sue me for defamation and I would welcome the opportunity to tell my story in a court of law.
Also, under Art. 307 of the French Civil Code, the obligation of parents to provide for their children doesn't stop when the children reach majority, so under the law my mother is obligated to provide for me.
But instead she tries to extort from me that I suppress unflattering speech in exchange for living expenses.
Starving me to force me to comply wouldn't be the smart thing to do, after she acknowledged that I harbor deep resentment, that a lot of money is owed me as inheritance and since as my mother she owes me support money. By starving me she would only prove my point and violate three laws in one fell swoop.
* * *
Day before yesterday I split open an old diskette whose moving lock was bent out of shape, therefore unreadable by a computer (of course it wasn't me who bent it but some unseen hand, the Black Hand probably), and transfered the floppy disk into an empty diskette shell (after removing a floppy with a bad file on it). The switch went well, then I opened the files on my computer and found several drafts of a lawsuit under 42 U.S.C. Section 1983 for the violation of my constitutional rights to free speech as a witness and due process in the lawsuit arising from my injury in 1990, and alleging a conspiracy between my mother, my landlord, my lawyers and the lawyers of New York City Transit Authority who were the "state actors".
Yesterday the 18th I spent all day working on hexagonal patchwork and sorting fabric leftovers, then around seven PM I started my computer. There was a diskette inside so I got the message "non-system disk or disk error" and after I had removed the diskette and struck a key, nothing happened. I turned the computer off and on again several times, and still nothing happened.
On Thu. the 19th I brought the laptop to a nearby shop. Instead of trying to start it with the boot CD I brought him (I couldn't use it myself because my CD drive is kaputt) the guy put a diskette in and after moment said it was a hard drive problem, that he would have to open up the machine and probably change the hard disk.
I left him the machine but came back the next day to pick it up before he did anything to it. It seemed unreal to me that the guy had written on the receipt "don't erase the hard disk" as if this were an unusual request! Besides he was not a licensed Toshiba tech. He acted a little pissed off and I brought my laptop to another shop and basically the two guys told me the same thing, that it must be a hard disk problem and I needed a new hard disk, with added comments that everyone was supposed to back up their hard disk because these things did fail sometimes and I felt like a fool. Only about 20% of my hard drive is used and again it felt unreal to hear that I had to kiss all my data goodbye after such a small part of the disk had been used. On the receipt the guy wrote "see if problem comes from software or hardware" but for all I know he had already told me that it was a hardware problem.
I stayed in the neighborhood and went to a bookstore, then returned to the computer shop and told it straight to the guys: I told them that I had documents related to criminal matters that I didn't want to lose, and just as I was saying it it dawned on me that the failure was a consequence of the presence of criminal evidence on my disk, and the whole point was to have the data lost
The guy at the front desk said that in that case the first thing to do was to bring my laptop to a data-recovery shop before any repair was attempted. "But you know", the techie chimed in, "it costs a lot of money, a thousand, fifteen hundred euros at least" which of course I didn't have. And the repairman in my nabe had a data recovery job for Άζ150 but I didn't want to go back to him. I told them again how the problem happened: upon turning the thing on with a diskette in, versus the problem happening in the middle of a session, and I insisted that knowing how the problem happened might help them to diagnose the cause, but they pretended they didn't hear me and then they made me feel like it was all my fault again because I hadn't backed up everything.
under cover of repair!
"Yes," I said, "I have most of it backed up, but not everything. Well, do the best you can." And I left. Back home it struck me as unbelievable that a hard disk of severl GB could konk out after only 20% of it was written so I called the Toshiba hotline from a payphone because I don't have a phone at home. "What's the point of making hard disks with ever greater capacity if they die after only 20% is written?" I asked a woman. She answered that there is no connection between the amount of occupied disk and the rate of failure but I didn't believe her.
On Sat. the 21st I went to recover 4 hours the guy at the ACT shop on rue Tolbiac stole from me; I had bought 33,33 hrs for Άζ50 in November. When I went there recently I was surprised that the balance was only 11 hrs and while having my morning coffee this morning I remembered that the last time I had been there before was on December 31st, a date easy to remember because when I left around 9PM the garbage truck was just passing and I told the garbageman "I'm all alone!" and he had answered "Sorry, I already have four wives" (he was an African). So how could I forget such a snippet of dialogue, and having nobody else to talk to on New year's Eve but a passing trash collector? Of course I remembered the last time I was at ACT. So I looked up in my little notebook and saw that at the end of the session I had 15 hrs left. So at noon I went to ACT and showed the guy my little notebook and asked him to credit me back the 4 hours he had taken from me. The bad faith of the guy was breathtaking. First he spoke about how much money was left so I said I didn't count HOW MUCH MONEY was left but HOW MANY HOURS; then he spoke about where I had been sitting as if it had any importance. He tried several diversionary tactics of this sort and every time I brought him back to the fact that the time before last I came was Dec 31st and here was the amount of time left written on my notebook.
Since he didn't treat me with the respect I expected and used bad faith I raised my voice because I was losing patience but didn't insult him or use any harsh words; instead of keeping things quiet and crediting me back the 4 hrs without making a fuss in front of his customers the asshole acted self-righteous and accused ME of bad faith. "I have the proof here that what I'm telling you is true" I said, exasperated, hitting my notebook to show him but of course he wouldn't look. Finally he acted as if HE was the offended party and he refunded me in casdh the unused hours plus the four hours he had stolen from me. I said I wanted the time, not the money, and he said that he didn't want to ever see me again in his shop because "we have a clean business here"! I said he didn't have the right to prevent me from using his store and he said that he did have the right (he doesn't). But that was enough for today so I left.
Next I went on my bike to the computer shop where I had left my laptop the day before because, having seen the light, I didn't want them to do anything to it but, lo and behold, when I got there the metal gate was drawn shut. On a Saturday!
So on Mon. the 23rd at 9.26 AM, 34 minutes before opening time, I faxed the guys asking them to await my instructions before "touching" my computer, and around 4PM I faxed them again, repeating the info I had given them on Friday about criminal evidence being on my hard disk and informing them of what Penal Law they would break if, under cover of repair they destroyed or altered the data, and how many years imprisonment it cost (3 years) and the amount of the fine (45,000 euros). I added that I would be in touch in the next few days.
Thu. the 4th I've run out of time in this shop too and my bank account has reached the maximum overdraft, €500, after the electric bill is paid. So it might be a while before I log in again. If I don't log in again it means I'm dead. Otherwise I'll buy time as soon as I get money, which will be soon I hope for I don't wanna starve, tho it wouldn't be the first time.
I got some time on credit at the internet space so I'm still able to write. Here's some news in French from Feb. 12 where I ask Mom for support money after the RMI allowance has been cut off:
LE NOEUD SE REFERME: AU 7 FEV 04 JE N'AI PLUS DE REVENUS
040212-Lettre à Maman demandant support.
040216-Réponse de Maman: voici 30 euros pour "assainir" ton site internet ... ce serait contraire à la justice élémentaire de te donner de l'argent avant:extorsion.
040302-Recommandée à Biern demandant révision de décision sous peine de plainte pour complicité d'extorsion avec Sacalais et Fourlinnie pour le compte de ma mère.
040304-E-mail à Sophie vers 15H15 la menacant de même si 10.000 euros ne sont pas sur mon compte le 13 mars à 14 heures.
040304-E-mail de Sophie le même jour vers 18H00 où elle fait semblant de ne pas avoir reçu mon message.
040311-e-mail de Sophie disant qu'elle n'a pris connaissance de mes e-mails du 5 et du 7 que le 11/3, me conseillant la curatelle pour obtenir pension alimentaire temporairement jusqu'au règlement final de la succession. M'accusant aussi pour la 3ème fois d'avoir volé sa clé et ses papiers pour les re-vendre à Maman! Que les honnêtes gens (sous-entendu comme elle et moi, après ses accusations de vol et viol de domicile) sont victimes des puissants sans scrupules.
Autrement dit c'est une autre extorsion:
L'AJBURATION DE MON TEMOIGNAGE SUR INTERNET CONTRE UNE PENSION ALIMENTAIRE
Note de No sur ma porte: [Recto]"Je fais 1 fête samedi 13. Tu es invitée. J'ai besoin de la chaîne avec les disques. Merci. [Verso] Si tu peux être chez toi samedi après-midi vers 17 heurs. A +."
040313 (Samedi) vers 15h: mot sur ma porte de No: "Alors c'est bon! Je compte sur toi ce soir. A toute et Merci No."
Je réponds: "Norbert, je te rappelle que tu me dois 1 CHAÎNE STEREO après t'être approprié la mienne pendant mon séjour aux USA. Elle était composée de:
- 1 ampli-tuner Marantz ou marque similaire fabrication 1978-79 environ, acier brossé en excellent état (peu servi);
- 1 platine tourne-disque Technics (peu servi);
- 1 paire d'enceintes de fabrication artisanale (marque HRC n'existe plus) d'une valeur d'environ 500 euros la paire (peu servi.
Si tu peux me rendre les éléments, très bien, fais-le, sinon je te demande de me dédommager pour leur perte. Mets-toi d'accord avec Maman pour l'ampli-tuner si tu ne t'en servais pas car s'il n'était pas en ta possession il était en la sienne. Mais règle d'abord ce problème, ensuite tu pourras prendre ta chaîne. Brigitte"
Réponse de DASS, V le Fournis, Inspecteur à ma lettre du 2 mars citant loi non-citée et suggérant que je signe nouveau contrat en allant rue des Reculettes (un coupe-gorge).
Après 2H30 à Internet (où un type éteint mon ordi sans s'excuser, où un gamin fait un bruit monstre pdt 1 H et ensuite deux femmes ensemble qui ne cessent de parler) je le rencontre dans la rue en revenant de l'espace internet. Je m'attends à ce qu'il soit furax mais il répond à ma note d'un air suave qu'il accepte toutes mes conditions mais que juste pour ce soir il a besoin de ses disques et sa platine. Il me parle de ses problèmes, qu'il n'a pas de disques bla bla bla, comme si cela m'intéressait. Il me dit qu'il a une super chaîne pour moi, de marque Philips, que mes enceintes sont chez mon neveu Mathieu Schnee parce que ma mère l'a laissé les prendre, et que son ampli à tubes VTL qui est chez moi est une vraie "bombe atomique". C'est curieux comme il fait des références à la radioactivité chaque fois qu'il est question de cet ampli, à tel point qu'en décembre dernier je me suis mise à soupçonner que l'engin si lourd contenait peut-être du matériel radioactif destiné à m'irradier à mon insu de manière à provoquer une mort lente au cas où une mort rapide ne s'avère pas possible. Deux précautions valent mieux qu'une! Après tout il m'avait forcé à prendre cet engin en automne 02 et nous nous quittons après qu'il m'aie arraché l'accord de venir chez moi prendre ses disks et platine.
A 17h je trouve sa note collée sur ma porte: "OK sur tout! Pour ce soir j'ai juste besoin de la platine disques et des vinyls. Je tiens à ta dispo 1 super chaîne Philips. On peut faire l'échange un soir prochain. Ciao. Tiens-moi vite au courant."
Chez moi je change d'avis et glisse sous ma porte un papier où j'ai écrit au feutre gras "paie moi d'abord OK?" Quelques instants + tard il frappe à ma porte et comme je ne réponds pas il dit qu'il voudrait juste me parler mais je ne réponds toujours pas et il s'en va.
040314-Mot de No sur ma porte avec un livret dont les 35 premières pages sont manquantes. "Regarde cette notice. C'est AKAI, pas Philips. Donne-moi ton avis. Sinon j'ai 100 euros tout de suite pour les disques. Si OK tape chez moi, je te passerai ça."
Il a l'air de vouloir s'introduire chez moi à tout prix sous un faux prétexte. On a tous entendu parler de ces meurtres où la victime semblait connaîetre son aggresseur car il n'y avait pas de signe d'entrée de force. Peut-être a-t'il amélioré son maniement des cordes à piano depuis décembre 02 où il m'avait si brillamment démontré sa capacité à faire des noeuds coulants en corde à piano, sous prétexte de m'aider pour la vente de mes bérets (il avait dit que ces cercles étaient pour mettre à l'intérieur des bérets afin de leur donner de la tenue alors que je voulais seulement qu'il m'aide pour le transport).
040315-Lundi: Je réponds à mon frérot:
1) A ma demande de dédommagement du 13/3 concernant ma chaîne stéréo tu as répondu "d'accord sur tout" et ensuite rien de ce que tu me proposes ne correspond à ma demande.
2) Ensuite tu proposes de me payer 100 euros pour TES disques.
3) Enfin n'oublions pas que tu m'as IMPOSÉ cette chaîne à l'automne 2002. Elle a d'ailleurs cessé de fonctionner il y a quelques mois.
Ne m'importune pas avec des sommes ridicules et du matos bas de gamme. Puisque tu as dit que tu étais d'accord, commence d'abord par me rembourser les enceintes, c'est-à-dire 500 euros. Brigitte"
Back to English - those French accents are hell to type!
Fri. the 26th: Since the episode of the week-end of March 13 I haven't seen or heard my kid brother, not even his motorcycle. Maybe there was no break-up between he and Diane! Maybe he moved with them. I know his wife and two kids moved out a few days before the episode for I met Diane downstairs (I doubt it was by chance) and she told me she was leaving, she couldn't stand my brother anymore, he was cheap, he treated her with contempt etc. He chin was trembling, her voice quavering. I said I could testify for her if she wanted me to. She said my brother was "very perverse". I said he was like my mom. It didn't seem to satisfy her, as if she had been expecting another reaction. And she also reminded me of the time we spoke about my 1990 staged "accident" when I'm positive we never did.
So it seems to be another technique of deception: say one false thing next to one true thing in order to discredit the true thing (that my bro is "very perverse"). So the intended victim doesn't heed the warning and the gang of culprits can soothe their guilty conscience by saying "well, she was warned!"
I hope everybody noticed the uncanny timing of the deadline I gave my sister Sophie Picart to credit my bank account (March 13) and my brother Norbert's attempt to get into my apartment (March 13)!
Oh! And another thing: I found it truly blood-curdling how calm my brother was when I upset his plan to get into my apartment first by asking him to pay me back my stereo and second by not opening the door. Any normal guy would have been upset, angry. I'm not saying he should have screamed necessarily but at least shown some discontent. But he was cool as a cucumber both times. When he knocked at the door and I didn't open I expected that he would bang with some insistence but he didn't. My brother François had the same surreally calm reaction when I refused to see him back in late Nov. 1993 or early Dec. just after I had found about my family's involvement in the "accident". So I'm thinking my two brothers must be mind-controlled like Manchurian Candidates because they are not acting for themselves but for someone else so they have no emotional involvement, which explains their lack of anger, and the one who must be fuming and swearing a blue streak must be my mom! Just imagine the scene! It's both horrendous and comical.
ON CAUSE FRANÇAIS ICI
:E-mails récents entre moi et ma soeur Sophie Picart concernant les raisons pour lesquelles elle continue à s'opposer au partage des biens de Papa, et son aimable proposition de me faire classer débile mentale pour toucher une pension alimentaire.
20040324-Lettre à ma mère:
Paris le 24 mars 2004
Oh! C'est ton anniversaire dans deux jours, alors bon anniversaire!
Mais je t'écrivais pour autre chose: j'ai réussi à faire rétablir mon RMI mais le virement n'aura lieu que le 7 avril et je n'ai pas de quoi joindre les 2 bouts. J'ai un solde négatif d'environ 700 euros qui ne sera pas comblé même avec un rappel d'un mois. Aussi je te demande à nouveau -TRES INSTAMMENT- de bien vouloir effectuer un virement d'au moins 1K500 euros sur mon compte le plus vite possible.
Permets-moi de te rappeler tes obligations alimentaires à mon égard, en vertu des Art. 203 et 371-2 et suivants du Code Civil. Il est grand temps que tu acceptes, à l'approche de ta 80ème année, qu'être mère de famille ne comporte pas que des privilèges mais aussi des responsabilités.
Je t'informe que je vais faire une procédure de "requête en fixation d'une obligation alimentaire" et que le seul moyen de l'éviter serait pour toi de convenir avec moi d'un montant mensuel et de faire homologuer cette convention par un juge aux affaires familiales.
Ta lettre du 12 février en réponse à ma demande d'aliments, celle où tu disais que ce serait "lâcheté" de ta part et "contraire à la justice élémentaire" de me donner de l'argent avant que j'"assainisse" mon site internet était de l'extorsion pure et simple.
Je t'informe solenellement que dorénavant je ne vais plus te faire cadeau de mes droits. Aussi si tu trouves mes propos sur mon site internet diffamatoires, il faudra que tu squives les procédures légales. Seuls les nourrissons et les gangsters font de l'extorsion, aussi cette méthode pour obtenir satisfaction est extrêmement malséante à l'égard de ta propre fille.
Mon numéro de compte est XXXXX. TRES URGENT.
cont'd: April 2004 - previous - to ToC - Home