Thursday, January 31, 2008: It will be soon. I don’t know when. I don’t know how. But it has to happen. This situation can’t go on forever.
Archive for January, 2008
Dear Credit Card Companies,
You want to sue me. At least, you are threatening to sue me. You are sending letters written by law office employees. Whether those debts are actually mine or not, the answer is still this: I have no money.And if I owe you the money, I want to know what it is that I charged with my cards. For the past few years, I have been busy struggling with mortgage fraud and foreclosure. They have taken up all of my time. I have had no rest, no peace because of them.
You have no idea what it’s like to go from an excellent credit score to having to read your letters. It is unbelievable to me that this is my situation now. Your letters are all too real.
I have gone over them several times and I try to understand my options. It seems that I have none.Nothing protects me, no law, no person, no defense. Not having a job at the moment is not good enough. And no, I cannot borrow the cash. There is no one who will do that for me.
Friday, January 25, 2008: Yesterday I got 2 more letters from credit card company lawyers threatening to sue me. I do not need this. I do not have the money to pay them, even if the credit charges are mine. After I lost my GA condo, I thought nothing worse could happen to me, but I see how wrong I was.
Being a victim of mortgage fraud was not bad enough. Now I have this to struggle with.
My feelings do not count. It is very surreal. My life has changed since I was unfortunate enough to go to GA.It’s like I’m in the middle of my own horrible nightmare.
I so remember the high hopes I had when I first went to NYC almost 12 years ago! I can feel again the excitement, the happiness of finally being in that great big city, the mother of all cities. There was so much to look forward to then! The summer of 1996 was a magical time for me. Walking up and down Manhattan, having breakfast at the Stanhope Hotel, right across from the Metropolitan Museum and Central Park–all that meant so much. I thought I belonged. And I am so thankful that I was able to be there and pretend that I would one day have NYC at my feet. The reason I had gone was Different Flags. I had written that novel from my heart because it was part of me, the best I had to offer. I wanted the whole world to read it and the only place to help me achieve that goal was The Big Apple. But after knocking on all sorts of doors, I realized that I would not get a big time publisher like Simon and Schuster or Harper and Collins. The literary agents I queried said I had talent, but the novel didn’t have this, didn’t have that. What they probably meant was no sex. A story about a young woman falling in love with a priest in South America had to have spice. Different Flags didn’t–not enough, anyway. Ani and Luis never slept together. How naive and unwordly can you get? Sex, as everyone knows, sells.
Then why did I write the book? The story was burning inside of me. It had to come out. Yes, sex was a big element, but it was not the only one. There were others that sometimes overshadowed it. DF was an emotional tale, an obsession that had to have a house of its own.
It is very hard to be a Spanish teacher, an English teacher and/or a translator when what you really want to do is sell your writing. You wear a brave little smile and you say: No matter. I like to do this. I enjoy teaching. Besides, I have faith. My ship will come.
Now I am frustrated. When will I get my big break? I don’t want it to be when I’m dead. No use. Because I won’t be around to enjoy anything.
Sunday, January 20, 2008: I am all set for the big little trip tomorrow. It’s been such a long time since I was there and I have mixed feelings. Nowhere to stay, very little money. It wil definitely be a short trip.
Sunday, January 20, 2008: I have lost a friend. The space on the IBook I was using to write is gone. I had written a lot there, but because of someone’s mistake, it is no more.It has vanished into Web trashland. That space was mine and I will have a hard time finding a replacement.
Sunday, January 13, 2008: Last year, while still in Argentina, I wrote about a suitcase with about $800,000 that someone had tried to smuggle via Caracas, Venezuela. Now it looks like this story could very well be turned into a spy movie. Antonini Wilson, the Venezuelan businessman who carried the suitcase, is also an American citizen. And somebody could have tried to bribe him to say it was not really his and they could have threatened his family. Just before I left Argentina a couple of weeks ago, the new president of Argentina said that the suitcase issue is part of a garbage campaign against her. It is rumored that the money was supposed to help Cristina Fernandez de Kirchner get elected.
Friday, January 11, 2008: It seemed easier back then, when all I had to worry about was Forbidden Love. Forbidden Love and longing, wanting someone I didn’t know how to have. Now it is peace of mind. I have none. And the horrible GA condo is at the bottom of it all. Why did I ever go to Atlanta? Why can’t I start all over again?
No. I don’t want to feel sorry for myself. I am just exhausted and I want to know.
Friday, January 11, 2008: No wonder I feel bad. The GA condo fiasco is not over yet. It may have more financial repercussions. As if I need that on top of everything else that’s happened already. And to pretend that everything is fine, that there will be a way out, a solution that will not make me cry and wince or have me wish I were dead. Playing a part I don’t feel like playing–for the sake of others, for my own sake. That is no good, either because the pressure, the tension is tremendous. It is tearing me apart.
January 10, 2008: It is sweet, like caramel, but it is not caramel. Some people eat it right out of the jar, while others spread it on a slice of French bread.