Friday, September 30, 2011

Instructor M

"Please don't drop my class.," pleaded Instructor M.

"I'm leaving for City College. I would like to major in Architecture. I looked for Architecture in this college, I didn't find it. I've always wanted to design airports, bridges, buildings, roads, and skyscrapers. Accounting isn't what I want to major in," I said.

"I will help you. If you come to my office, I will help you with Accounting."

"Accounting is boring. I would rather design. I'm an artist. I like to use my brain to create."

"I promise! I will make it fun for you. If you allow me to touch your breasts. That's creative," he said.

"I beg your pardon?" I asked.

"When you come to my office, we'll create."

Instructor M and I crossed paths in 1987 in a college setting. As a matter of fact, I took my first accounting course, Principles of Accounting One with him. He earned an MBA from another university. I'm not certain why he didn't bother to procure a Ph.D. A week later, I had a change of mind. I decided to leave for City College so as to major in Architecture as opposed to Accounting. However, Instructor M stopped me dead in my tracks. He forbade me to drop his course. He falsely imprisoned me at the reception area in the Accounting Department on the 15th floor. Under normal circumstances, I would have walked away. Because we were on the 15th floor, my legs were transfixed to the ground. I developed a phobia for elevators when I was nine months pregnant. I was trapped inside one for two hours. Not only was I between the rock and the hard place, the receptionist was nowhere to be found. He must have paid her a day's salary. He was also a CPA. Given that I was terrified of pulleys, I got stuck with the class until the very end. Not surprisingly, I did not go to his office. It was also on the 15th floor. If anything, I dodged him like a bullet. If truth be told, I avoided him like the bubonic plaque. I was naive and young. And he capitalized upon it.  It didn't matter if I already had a son. Because of my brain injuries, I couldn't grow past 8 years old. Some women in Africa and America continuously bullied me. Fortunately, I didn't encounter them in Europe. Through out the semester, I sat in his class avoiding eye contact. I couldn't wait for the semester to end. In the end, I received a C. And I prayed to God we would never encounter again.

As a matter of fact, I breezed through a four- year program in two years. I geared up to graduate in May 1989 until he arrested me again. In Spring 1989, I took the last accounting course, Auditing with him. He issued me an F grade for failing to come to his office. To date, it's the only F on my transcript. He added insult to injury when he started blackmailing Attorney P. That's why, he broke up with me in 1990.

"Go to him. He's always wanted to be with you," said Attorney P.

"I don't want to be with him. I would rather be with you," I said.

Because he issued me an F in Auditing, I couldn't graduate in spring 1989. I re-took it with another professor in fall 1989 and passed it. Still, the college refused to bestow me with a BS in Accounting. It was as though they were waiting for me to have sex with him. Finally, I went to the Dean's Office and filed a complaint for sexual harassment. A panel of 12 jurors were appointed. 10 were women while two were men. Ironically, all 10 women sided with him. The two men believed me. Still, the college declined to award me a degree. Instead, the Dean advised me to take more courses. I shelled out another $2,000 for Spring 1990. Then, I waited for them to graduate me. To my dismay, their refusals were adamant. And so, I made a conscious decision. On May 30, 1990, I packed up my bags and moved to Los Angeles. I left my forwarding address with the Dean of Students and school. He promised he would convince them to issue me a diploma. He and Attorney P gave me the benefit of the doubt.

In August 1990, he made good on his pledge. They had reached a consensus. They awarded me a BA in Economics and Mathematics. There was no mention of a BS in Accounting. Yet, I had satisfied all the courses needed to sit for the CPA exam.

"You're still an Accountant. You may show them your transcipt. As a matter of fact, you have more than one major. You have Accounting, Economics and Mathematics. All Accounting courses are Economics classes in this college. That's why, they awarded you a BA in Economics and Mathematics as opposed to a BS in Accounting. I fought hard for you. You're hard working. You graduated with 140 semester credits as opposed to 120. And you accomplished them in 3 years. Well done!" he said.

"All right, I'll accept a BA in Economics and Mathematics. Thanks for the vote of confidence. Thanks for fighting passionately for me," I said.

In 1992, I called Attorney P from Los Angeles. He was excited to hear from me. We started laughing again. A week later, he said that his hours had been reduced. This meant that he was on the verge of being fired. I didn't call him again until 2001. It was too late. In 1998, he died from pancreatic cancer. Yet again, I believe he had been poisoned. I truly believe that the 10 women were the ones who poisoned him, not Instructor M. When I learned, he had died, I decided to obtain a JD. In 2003, my son and I embarked on a journey. I had been accepted at a law school in Massachusetts. Immediately, I enrolled him at University of Massachusetts. However, he never made it out of Maryland. Female terrorists kidnapped him. Four months later, my beloved father passed. In two years, I lost three men. Because I'm the daughter of a reporter, my brain doesn't rush to judgment. In fact, my father and I obtained a degree from City University of New York (CUNY). He studied Journalism at Brooklyn College. CUNY owns more than 20 colleges in NYC. Brooklyn and City Colleges are two of them. I might add that female terrorists fired me on May 30, 2000 because I had coffee with President & CEO T. They had grand illusions I would become Monica Lewisky. A reminder we had met for five minutes to discuss my children's books. Both  he and Attorney P were present at Yale. For these reasons, I fought passionately for children, my father, son, and Attorney P in 24 federal courts from June 2003 until June 2010. Each time, I asked defense attorneys to donate money to children's organizations, return my son, apologize to me (scores of food poisoning, wrongful terminations, freezing of bank accounts, refusals to hire, grand larceny, grand theft, to name a few) and pay us damages. Their refusals were adamant. To be frank, they've continued to poison me. I suffered the last bout on September 30, 2011. It has become a never-ending obsession. They like to terrorize especially during the months of June, September and December.

It begs the question. Marriage Made in Heaven or Hell? Would our marriage have been made in heaven or hell? Hell!!! He gave me an F. Again, it's the only F on my transcript. It's precisely why I've never bothered to sit for the CPA exam.

Thursday, September 29, 2011

President & CEO Timothy P. Shriver, Ph.D

"You look just like your sister," I said.

"Who are you?" He asked

"Your sister's a journalist. My father's also a journalist."

"Who are you?"

"I'm a writer. I've written several books."

"Who are you?"

"Oh! Mr. President. How rude of me? I greatly apologize. I'm the Budget Officer and Acting Grants

Manager of your mother's company."


"Would you like to read my children's books? I wrote two books comprising 30 short stories for

children in English and French."

"Yes. Email is the best way to reach me. I speak French."

"Thanks, Mr. President."

In 2000, I shared an elevator with the president and CEO of a non-profit organization in Washington, DC. I was on cloud nine. Never in my imagination did I envision breathing the same air with him. For starters, I thought he was a figure head. I'm not certain why. Actually, I am. He's a celebrity. It's rare to run into them, let alone inside an elevator. Plus, he comes from a royal family. As a matter of fact, everyone in his family is a celebrity. It begs the question? Do we have royalty in America? The Roosevelts and the Bushes are royalty. If we're to examine it, fathers, nephews and sons became presidents.

The following day, I sent him an email. Did he respond? No! As I said, he's royalty. Before I forget, he was the President and CEO. We shared several common goals. We were the only ones who held two jobs simultaneously. I sent a second one. Not surprisingly, there wasn't an answer. Then, I remembered Attorney P. As it happens, both attended Yale. I sent a third email.

"Would you like to meet over lunch?"

"Let's have coffee at 8:00 AM." he wrote back.

"Yes, Mr. President."

I was right! They shared common goals. Attorney P was also the President and CEO of his law practice. He founded it. And so, we met in his office for five minutes. During this time, we discussed my children's books. Because he had a meeting, we decided we would reconvene. Then, jealous women fired me. According to the grapewine, they believed in their grand illusions that I was the next Monica Lewisky. Did we have sex?

It begs the question. Marriage Made in Heaven or Hell? If we had broached the subject of marriage, would it have been made in heaven or hell? Heaven!!! We only discussed children. I'm their advocate. I fought passionately for them in 24 federal courts. We didn't have sex. For the umpteenth time, I only entertain sexual relations with a man I'm married to, engaged to or discussing marriage with. Attorney P and  I often talked about poverty-stricken children. President & CEO T also confronted it. He said he would help me. However, jealous women brought personal vendettas to the workplace.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Attorney P

Did you think for a second I didn't believe in Marriage Made in Heaven? I've been practicing abstinence for a long time. I only entertain sexual relations with a man I'm married to, engaged to, or discussing marriage with. I love it. It empowers me. If truth be told, it puts me in the driver's seat. Simply, I love God and I. He has saved me more than a million times from harm's way. When I was 2 years old, I survived  massive brain injuries. I fell down from a flight of stairs. My head was split into two. On my 4th birthday, my father presented me with a piano which rewired my brain and accorded me the motor skills to hear, talk, and walk. Initially, I was deaf, mute and paralyzed. I still battle recurring amnesia and deafness. Fortunately, I enjoy writing. It helps me to remember. As a matter of fact, my father was a writer. He encouraged his children to put pen to paper. Most importantly, he taught us to channel our anger constructively as opposed to destructively. It dissipates anger. When I'm upset, I write. I don't talk about it with anyone, except God. He's the Alpha and Omega. Back to heaven!

"Have dinner with me," Attorney P said.

"Dinner? I know what that means. It means sex," I said.

"I meant lunch."

"Lunch? I know what that means. It means eat."

"No! No! No!"

"Yes! Yes! Yes!"

"What do you want? Would you rather have coffee?"


In 1988, Attorney P and I crossed paths in New York City after lunch hours at a restaurant on Park Avenue. His law practice was opposite the law firm I labored. He was a Yale law school graduate and a former IRS agent. During the day, I attended college full time and worked part time from 2PM until 7PM. Sometimes, I worked overtime to make ends meet. I was shocked when I met him at school a week later. As a matter of fact, I took a course, Federal Income Taxation with him. Following this discovery, I withdrew from his class. I took to my heels and ran. Because I needed this course to graduate, I re-took it in 1989. He was the only professor who taught it in the mornings. He worked full time as a tax attorney and part time as a professor. At the end of the semester, I decided to go out with him. I had everything to gain and nothing to lose.

"I apologize. I've got to attend to this client."

"You don't have to apologize."

:You haven't done anything absolutely nothing wrong."

" I'm busy with my homework."

Needless to say, he wined and dined me. We frequented a restaurant close to our jobs and were present at several Broadway shows. Sometimes, we ordered in. He was extremely busy with preparing taxes for his wealthy clients past midnight. He met them in conference rooms while I stayed in his office. Though, he was an attorney, we never once argued, let alone fought. Respect was the cornerstone of our relationship. He was fond of apologizing over nothing. I learned good values from him. I also taught him a lot. I talked non-stop about the poverty-stricken children in Africa. He listened intently. We also discussed getting married and having children. It was one of the reasons he became interested in me. He had been married three times and didn't have children. I had never been married, but had a son. I gave birth to him at a very young age. To be honest, I had my son when I was 8 years old. Because of my brain injuries, I couldn't grow past 8. I endured intense bullying for not amassing pounds and gaining inches. When I became pregnant, I received stem cells from him. I grew from 4 feet tall to almost 5 feet 5 inches.

Without warning, he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Unfortunately, he passed in 1998. I was devastated, to say the least. I  truly believe he was poisoned. Shortly, I drafted four novels depicting our romance. In 2002, I decided to attend law school in remembrance of him. In 2003, I was accepted at a law school in Massachusetts. Immediately, I transferred my son's transcript to University of Massachusetts. I home schooled and enrolled him at Strayer University when he was 16. The day before my June 21, 2003 birthday, my only child was kidnapped. He never made it out of Maryland. Four months later, my beloved father died of anxiety. For these reasons, I fought passionately for children in 24 federal courts from June 2003 until June 2010. Each time, I asked defense attorneys to donate money to children's organizations, return my son, apologize to me and pay us damages. Not surprisingly, their refusals were adamant. I no longer file suits. In June 2010, I replaced them with songs. In a nutshell, music helped me recover from my massive brain injuries. Initially, I was deaf, mute and paralyzed. It rewired my brain and accorded me the motor skills to hear, talk, and walk.. I haven't given up my dream of having more children. Every day, I pray for a good man. I would like to have twin boys and adopt a girl from an impoverished country. I'm positive my boys would help me advance to the next age. I haven't aged much since I had my son 26 years ago. As a matter of fact, my son has outgrown me. Some people think he's either my brother or husband. I still eat baby food.

It begs the question. Marriage Made in Heaven or Hell? Would our marriage have been made in heaven or hell? Heaven!!! To date, Attorney P's the only man I've ever dated. My son came on all my other dates. Hence, they weren't dates. I needed male role models for him. Jason also tagged along to my graduate studies at California State and National State Universities. Most importantly, Attorney P was my first love. Again, we never once argued, let alone fought. Laughter became the norm. Respect was the cornerstone. Integrity was critical. Hard work was our middle name. Compassion was what the doctor ordered. May his soul rest in heavenly peace!!!

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa

"If you sleep with him, your memoir and your father's book would make millions," he said.
"Why should I sleep with the mayor? This is ludicrous," I said.
"I'm in a relationship with you."
"I don't mind you sleeping with other men. How about the President & CEO of Special Olympics?"
 "Did you sleep with him? I'm editing your memoir. As the editor, you should listen to me."
 "If you want to make money, you have to say you slept with him. He comes from a royal family."
 "Nothing happened! We met for five minutes to discuss my children's books"
  "We only talked about children. I'm an advocate for children."
 " I fought passionately for them in 24 federal courts for 9 trillion dollars. Children are priceless."
  "If we didn't talk about children, it would have been a different matter."

On my birthday, June 21, 2008, my former fiance L invited me to live with him. He had proposed marriage under false pretenses. Next, he began to plot. He promised to edit my memoir. He also came up with writing a historical novel based upon my father's life. My father was a celebrity in Africa. He was an astute ambassador, renowned journalist, and charming politician. What's more, he founded several newspapers.. L had a hidden agenda. During this time, he started pressuring me to sleep with Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa. When, I refused, he moved out of our downtown Los Angeles home for more than two years. He knew about my abstinence. I only entertain sexual relations with a man I'm married to, engaged to or discussing marriage with. I prefer courtship to dating. Anytime I dated, Instructor M and his partners in crime terrorized me and the men in my life. He's been obsessed with my breasts since the day we crossed paths in January 1987 at a college in New York City. He's worse than Adolf Hitler, Bernard Madoff, and Ted Kaczinski. He and his scores of accomplices masterminded Attorney P's death, my father's death, my son's kidnap, 50 wrongful terminations, 5000 refusals to hire, 5 grand larcenies and thefts, 100 food poisonings, 1 poison Ivy on clothes, 100 automobile accidents, account closures, ousted me out of MBA and JD programs, just to name a few. During the time I dated Attorney R, he incited students in my Math class to vandalize the car he helped me with, stage fights, set fires, smear the door with blood, throw rocks which shattered windows in my classroom into tiny fractions, repeat our telephone conversations and draw our private parts on walls.

Not surprisingly, one of my memoirs, Amanda U: 1985 and the Amazing Years did not garner income. I self-published it. I've since withdrawn it. I would like to publish it with a reputable publishing company in America or France. I have plans to move back to Paris. During his Sabattical leave, several residents informed me that the mayor had just divorced his wife. Sometimes, I watched TV downstairs with them. It was still a resounding no. Our relationship would have been based upon deception and false pretenses. As a matter of fact, I spent 2010 Thanksgiving with the mayor and more than 3,000 Los Angelesnos. He was serving meals. When I saw him, I dodged him like a bullet.

" Central library(CL) is freezing. As an economist, my advice is decrease air conditioning & use funds 2 keep CL open 7 days.Thx .AmandaUch," I said.

On September 25, 2010, I sent this tweet to Mayor V. He re-tweeted it on the same day, but he didn't decrease air conditioning.

It begs the question. Will our marriage be made in Heaven or Hell? I would rather take the fifth. Taking the fifth does not mean Hell. Simply, i've no idea. It begs another question. Do you think Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa knew about this plot?  I don't think so! The truth of the matter is I'm capable of finding the right man. No one should force me! Heaven! Opposites who share common goals attract more! He and I love law and politics! My father instilled them in me! I plan to resume law school in fall 2013. I've been fighting passionately for kids in court since 2003.

Monday, September 26, 2011

Attorney R

"You must come to my office," he said.

"I can't," I said.

"If you don't come, your new car will be repossessed," he said.

"I can't afford to leave my students. Children mean the world to me."

"Get a sub!"

"No! Children need continuity."

"It's your judgment call."

"Could you please tell them to stop terrorizing me? I traded in my sports car and $2,000 cash for a Dodge Van two weeks ago. They want to repossess my new car. The bill isn't due until next month. It takes 45 days to pay it. I asked them to return my old car and $2,000, but they refused. They're threatening to repossess the new car. They don't want to return the old car and the $2,000. Could you please call them and remind them about the law? I can't afford to leave my students."

"Yes, of course."

In September 1994, Torrance Dodge began to harass me. Two weeks earlier, I had purchased a Dodge Caravan. I traded in my Pontiac Fiero and paid them $2000.00. My phone rang incessantly. Immediately, I called the law firm who handled my automobile accidents. I averaged seven a year. Many drivers whacked me from the back. Several were hit and run. In 1999, I gave up driving. They referred me to Attorney R. I had just started teaching Mathematics and Pre-Algebra at a middle school in Los Angeles. Hence, I couldn't afford to leave my students with a substitute teacher. However, Attorney R wanted me to come to his office in Beverly Hills. When I asked him if he could make Dodge go away, he agreed. It didn't happen. If anything, they started pounding on my door after midnight. Without delay, I drove from Torrance to Beverly Hills in my new car. His office  was situated between Camden Drive and Wilshire Boulevard in the heart of Beverly Hills. I hated missing work.

"I called Dodge. They won't harass you anymore. They've to right to threaten you. You have a contract. You fulfilled your obligations," Attorney R said.

"How much do I owe you?"

"Not a dime."


"Yes, really."

"Thank you."

"I've changed my mind."


"How about a hug?"

"A hug?"

"Just a hug," he said.

"Yes, of course, counsel," I said.

Then, he grabbed and squeezed me tightly for ten minutes. He wouldn't let go of my breasts.

It begs the question? Marriage Made in Heaven or Hell? Would our marriage have been made in heaven or hell? Heaven!  He has bailed me out several times. He stopped Dodge from repossessing my car. He did not charge me a dime. Following my son's abduction, I accused him of all sorts. He still bailed me out when I called him. Bad people had detained me for three days. When the jealous principal wrongfully terminated me, he sent her a letter. He pleaded my case. If truth be told, he has become my brother. Before I forget, he's the most romantic man in the whole wide world. 

Designer C

" I like your hat, " Designer C said.
"Thanks," I said.
"I'm Designer C. What's yours?"
"Isn't C a woman's name?"
"No! It's a man's name."
"It sounds more like a K. Some people use C and K interchangeably."
"Would you like to come to my party? I opened my fashion house today."
"What are you serving?"
"Just drinks."
"How about hors d'oeuvres?"
"Just alcohol."
"I don't drink outside my home. Thanks for the invitation, but I'll pass."
"I like your dress."
"Thanks. I'm also a designer. As a matter of fact, I bought several yards of fabrics from your store. I used them to design an evening gown, a shawl, a short dress and a wedding gown."
"My store?"
"Why did you design a wedding gown? Are you getting married?"
"Come to my office! I would like you to model your designs for me."
"Please feel free to stop by anytime. I'm here in the mornings."
"I will. By the way, my name is AmandaU."

In 2009, I ran into a Los Angeles based designer in downtown Los Angeles. Two weeks earlier, I had purchased six yards of fabrics in blue and cream colors from his store. Next, I designed an evening gown, a shawl, a short dress and a wedding gown. It took me 2 weeks to design and sew them with my hands. I enjoy designing clothes, among other passions. During the time I lived in France, I observed haute couture and haute cuisine. On the same day, he invited me to model them. He allowed me to use his dressing room. I changed twice. Several times, the straps of my bra fell off. My slip was also in the same dilenma. And he took notice of every detail. I was embarassed, to say the least.

"I like the short dress and wedding gown. I like the way you tied the train around your shoulders and waist. They're more my style. They're sophisticated. The evening gown is too simple," he said.
"Thanks for the constructive criticism. I made the evening gown simple. She's on her honeymoon. She wears it for her husband when they're alone.  She wears the shawl in more ways than one. She wears it with her evening gown. The rest is up to her creativity skills. She wears the wedding gown during the wedding and the short dress for the reception."
"You shouldn't hide the straps or your slip. Let them show."
"Really? All rightee!"
"Where did you learn to design?"
"I once lived in Paris."

During the time I strutted my stuff, he glared at my legs several times. He also seemed to be interested in the straps of my bra and my slip. I changed twice.

"Were you alone with him in his office? If he's looking at your legs, it means he wants to have sex," another man said.
"Really? Many women wear short skirts all the time to work. Does it mean the men are interested in sex? If so, are women promoting sex in the workplace? This is my answer. It's OK to fantasize. And Yes, I was alone with him in his office. Nothing happened."
"Designer C is only interested in one thing. You should have had sex with him in his office."
"No! I practice abstinence. I only entertain sexual relations with a man I'm married to, engaged to or discussing marriage with."

Several months later, Designer C became a musician. He stopped designing. If truth be told, he was a contestant on American IDOL. As it happens, music is my oldest career. I started playing the drums and piano when I was 4 years old. To date, I've composed 32 songs. Incidentally, I was a contestant on America's Got Talent and X-Factor.

 It begs the question. Marriage Made in Heaven or Hell? Would our marriage have been made in heaven or hell? Hell!!! He refused to look me in the eye.