Source has my back, front, and sides. See the following:
My V.I.P. Guest situation in protected class refuge in Overland Park (Kansas City) in the Indian-Pakistani community had ended, somewhat abruptly, though it had gotten weird/creepy in ways that told me it was beyond time, anyway, when my ally's Engineer brother, from BMW, & wife, from Germany, were given my Guest spot, instead. At the same time, there was no reason why, in normal circumstances, I shouldn't have procured an apartment in 6 months anywhere. These, however, are not "normal" times. Not when the world is so disjointed that you can't find a job at your maximum performance level for years--or when Studios and 1-bdrm.'s are pervasively unavailable for over a year in 1 market, &/or are completely out of sync with many or most "jobs" in the area. As you can see on LinkedIn, which I finally rejoined while down there, Johnson County, historically one of the wealthiest counties in the country?, was trending with the same things that had made me leave Dubuque, so, in some ways, I essentially spun my wheels down there more, with 3-4 similar investigations now under way, at a state and federal level, though I credit the enlightenment, witness, and internal beauty of my old and new contacts in Kansas during this time with helping to turn the tide on many things, including back in Iowa.
While I'm down there, another key contact from the past year in Dubuqueland reveals his true colors and goes split-down-the-middle on me, too, however, the last contact I have in that area has somewhat reclaimed himself by offering me an emergency landing pad, should I have to come back up there, including in the situation now at hand--I have, miraculously, found a pretty Amy-Jin perfect 1-bdrm. in a haystack, and secured it, though it is not available for almost 2 mos., after commanding a new, ground-level leadership offer from 7-ELEVEN, ironically, award-winning for employing veterans, who has heard my story and has stepped up and forward to help me keep going in that area, looking to re-establish Love Yoga: The Movement there. Kev, my Field Supervisor-in-Training(-himself), is confident I'll be able to find right-fitting work, thereafter. The offer is made "standing." I plan to go back up to my contact's in Iowa during that time, turn around, and come back with what I have left in material possessions.
After my host proves in the way, again, even on my way out, I finally am headed back to Dubuque. My contact literally bombs as I'm driving into Des Moines. Almost as if they knew, and as had been hinted at in an e-mail a week or two before, Sam-Dad and Sarah-Mom, when called about it, did a bad job of acting at the news. I could land there--for now--without their knowing much more than the nature of what was going on at the time. Getting off the phone with my contact, a psychic portal opened up, and feeling his energy and personal chaos, it shifted into the downtown area of Dubuque. I saw terrorized African-Americans screaming and running, as if something terrible had just happened, Race-wise. A Caucasian male came into my mind's eye, as though he was looking right at me, screaming in rage. He was at hand, and I took it he was a Supremacist. I thought, "What in the world...is going on there now?!" During this same trip, Weston Point, in Overland Park, with Preferred Employer agreements with the likes of Sprint, Cerner, Black & Veatch, the Military, the City of Overland Park(, which is why I chose them), starts giving me further run-around about my application, also trying to fraud me out of my move-in special. Note that, now back in Dubuque, doing my final fill-up at Hy-Vee Fuel in Asbury Plaza, I am stopped, as I'm running out, after paying, by the front page of the Telegraph Herald, which declares something like, "Magistrate Indicted For Felony Theft." I stopped dead in my tracks. April 8th, 2016. Guess who, United States of America!!! MAGISTRATE MATTHEW NOEL, amongst the corrupt judges in Dubuque County District Court the Iowa Supreme Court has told me they don't have "proof" enough to do anything about in the bullying, discrimination, and racism keeping me from the Appeal they've been charging me for, anyway, and stealing my tax refunds over. Therefore, when I write to the state again, asking for that Appeal, I said, "Looks as if I was, in fact, right, and as if I'm owed my Appeal and stolen time and resources back. I look forward to your response." Matthew Noel wrote that corrupt Order in December of 2014--the month he was confronted by Des Moines about stealing, it looked like, 10's of 1000's of $'s from the state, charging for services he never provided in his work with, low-income, likely minority, Iowans.I don't even care that everyone's staring at me. I let out an, "Ohhh myyyy God..." and a victory whoop before running in heels back to my rental. By the time I get back to the house, my contact has recooperated from his self-described "freak-out" and has said the couch is mine, but I decide to stand my ground at the house in Asbury, for the time being.
Unprovoked, as usual, it took only days before my former parents started in on their usual abuse, denial of facts, and choice to join the insane and disordered, Sarah continuing on her non-stop tape about how racism is my "excuse," made up, and doesn't exist. Fortunately, I'm not having to do a whole lot of lone self-defense anymore since, the next morning, the front page of the paper made the point for me. Cross burnings (again) in downtown Dubuque, taking us back to the 1990's, where I made my initial stand here, against racism and intolerance, for myself and others.
The state releases my tax refund, in an amazing, miraculous breakthrough, following the fresh wind of correspondences I had unleashed during one of my last visits to the area, weeks before, with no explanation, other than the woman I spoke with saying, "They released it--It doesn't say why or where your letter went, but, yes, it got released," however, it was followed up, days later, by the firm who's been sending me harrassing letters for the past year sending another letter, out of Urbandale, IA/San Antonio, TX. At least they seem usually responsive when I call with updates, including that the state seemed to be conceding something was not right with this case this year. A wild goose chase, as usual, that led me around campus for the better part of a morning, following a long talk with someone in leadership in the Iowa Supreme Court Judicial Qualifications Committee about sending
a letter to his boss, Administrator Boyd, in the next office over, still has resulted in nothing pertaining to getting a finally-fair Appeal and outside of Dubuque County, but I'm not giving up. Like I've been saying since the beginning, this is a precedent-ball that this state can't afford to drop.
My uncle passes away. I happen to realize, in revisitng my Baby Book, as I complete an application to visit Seoul for the 1st time, that he, and some friends, and I believe 1 of my aunts, were my 1st visitors, here in the United States. I believe he was just out of high school at the time. According to notes, he even came back again, not too long after! An intuition that would not go away is not passed along in time. Perhaps it would've made no difference. Maybe it would've. I go to the funeral, in spite of everything, and am glad I did. I discover his birthday was a day before mine. Family is the core of everything. I will always feel and teach that, even if that loyalty is not reciprocated by people I was ignorantly given to. I am an ancient wisdom beacon, in between 2 pieces of lost, fluff-called-bread. I can see why people toss the bun.
"Work" is even more missing in action now than it was before I left, up here, however, 1 successful Connection with 1 of the Soccer players I went to school with in Chicago creates a subsequent tidal wave of reconnections with guys from that team, which opened up the door to LinkingIn to other athletes from other teams, including my own, I'd wondered about since graduation. My roommate pretty much responsible for my conscious spiritual awakening my junior year. Others. More past co-workers from IT. Grad School, overseas interest are now staring me in the face. How good it is to see their faces and hear their stories--both like mine and not--can't be described. People are nourishment, especially when you've cared about them, and to whatever extent.
A hate crime that has recently become federal-level that occurred during the tumult of last year, for me, most of which took place downtown, at a bar I was eerily taken to (Coincidence?) by still-needs-to-be-written-about Stan(islav) & his peops, about a year ago to the date, occurs to me to have a name connection to the cross burnings when I was growing up. Follow-up with police connections I have about what I saw on the drive into Des Moines indicates that Randy Metcalf wasn't involved in the cross burnings of the past, but, without looking at old scrapbooks, I'm quite positive that that was an involved name--(More irony,) also the name of one of the main streets in Overland Park. Imagine my surprise, or not, however, when the paper says the following: Local concerned citizens are frustrated by getting no info. from the police on the latest cross burning...and, at some point, Randy Metcalf has told people, locally, that he had something to do with a/the previous cross burning. It did not elaborate.
The federal government's finally in town, weeks later, for a huge meth/drug bust, where multiple people from the area are arrested. I was high--on life--that day, to put it mildly. LOL. I told Schlamuel & the Sarah that I was going to stand somewhere on the path the whole city apparently watches me run along & hold a sign, "I LOVE the federal government."
This is following an overflowing public forum about the "heroine/opioid epidemic" now rocking the tri-state area (IA, WI, IL). I also get back a day before the 1st mosque breaks ground, here in Dubuque. I notify my database about both and make public my support of standing up and attending the former and being honoring towards the latter. At this point, however, I don't know who's following suit and who's hating. This is because it takes something like too many local residents dying to overflow a convention center, as opposed to all things stagnating and people watching as real leaders are chased out of town by, for instance, total and complete systematic bigotry, as they did me, explaining a next-to-no one response to the Department of Justice-sponsored Forum on Hate Crimes and the recent cross burning I stood up and attended here on June 1st, where I realize just how bad it's gotten here. The more people move into fear as their primary motivating force, with or without conscious recognition, the more this place starts to feel like a communist country where no one can say how they're REALLY feeling, which is the 1st step to healing dying altogether.
I also contact Joyce McDermott, head of 2 West at Mercy Medical Center (again), who now concedes to all points I'm making--except for that internal investigation. I proceed, then, to escalate above her to a Board member who also deals with internal investigations and "Diversity issues." Haven't heard from her yet. I. Wonder. Why. I look forward to what I'm strongly encouraging as self-correction and response on their part, showing that anyone there should be getting paid for anything they're doing there.
In the meantime, after I catch Weston Point, again, doing something either egregiously erroneous or directly "-ist", where they now won't explain calling my 6-7 mos. of asked-for proof of income "4," say, "You WILL pay the amount we're telling you."--Or WHAT?!--and multiply my Security Deposit owed by 4, they don't follow through on their promise to make more clear and transparent their terms, as I demanded, and call me back after they've received an answer from their hierarchy on that, after I'd taught the not-even-the-D.M.-but-pretended-to-be-for-just-over-or-under-an-hour a compact course called, "Business Importance: 101," but send me their Attorney to push me out of my lease, saying they can CLEARLY see I don't like their apartment. Kev has already texted me, saying he has quit and is going back to Sears, 1 of multiple places where he also lost jobs and rank in the Recession, saying he hates it (Convenience/Gas) and to not go back--I won't like it, either! I say, "I'm going to follow through and do it." The Kansas Human Rights Commission just happens to call me back about KC Bell (Taco Bell) right after Weston Point harrasses me by telling me to call that Sylvia, District Manager, who ended up being just an Assistant, who doesn't even have voicemail, saying, "They can't do that!" They send me on a wild goose chase to all governmental orgs pertaining to jurisdiction over the Kansas City rental market since the KHRC claims to have none. Fair Housing says, "What do you think, what do you think this was, what do you think." I say, "What do YOU think." "I think it was because of your Race. And that came to me 2 or 3 times while you were talking." So now they're investigating. Kev tells the Field Supervisor taking over for him about more targeting or whatever this unfair crap is that keeps showing up in my life...but now he's getting all the dates screwed up and says the offer "has to have a shelf life." WHAT!? The next possible apartment is now in June, back at Highland Ridge, where I used to live, and where I'd been Guesting this past stint which, ironically, or symbolically?, was the last place where life had been truly right(, notably before the Recession), leading Power Yoga/Modeling/supplementing income in Indian-Pakistani Restaurant, Fashion, & then at Unity Village(, which was where I started noticing things that were starting to stink like raw sewage), pioneering hybrid technology in the community with my new, Super White Prius, living vitally BY MYSELF, not as a hostage or Prisoner of Wars, the day? after I finally evacuated Taco Bell altogether--Kind of like Dubuque, I got to watch my old, beloved apartment & building go up in flames, after I'd nodded at the fire trucks on my run after practice, wondering where a whole army of them were going with a notable stress around all their vehicles, more than usual. I found out when I got back. 7-ELEVEN pulls the offer after supposedly checking around for open Assistant-Manager-In-Training spots. I am now officially wiped off the map, again, and am the only Asian-American (actually standing up for being Asian-American--and everyone else) within a multiple state radius? I am now officially stuck, again, in No Man's Land of Dubuque/Asbury.
I am sitting here after one of my supporters has put me into another corporate hotel--that's not full with visiting travelers and in-chaos Dubuquers alike, when it looks as if there may be violations of religious freedom and practice at the 1 last remaining Women's Shelter in town, which I started optioning as "ready and waiting," a week or so ago, and seeing was 100% better than my worst nightmare now called my adoptive family, other than a seemingly random opportunity to submit a piece for an inspired idea by one of my Schmelzer aunts, after I'd gotten back, thru one of Sam-Dad's cousins, about my memories of growing up Schmelzer. I reiterated one of the concluding points from my still-unpublished autobiography--that my experiences still say that, when fully functional and committed to by ALL therein, interracial, international adoption, in its ideal form, is not just a peek into but PROOF of the possibility of World Peace. I am horrified, however, with what I have been shown by my adoptive parents, sister, and extended family, knowing full well who I am, and given uncountable, clearly and consciously offered opportunities to change, repent, heal, and improve, choosing all forms of darkness and malice, instead, as recently as this past Thursday, when I arrived here on my usual magic carpet: Grace and other awake nodes, sometimes states away. Example: 1, 2? days after finding out about Weston Point, then 7-ELEVEN, Sam and Sarah look at each other and scream at me, "You need to leave here, then, and by 2 weeks from now, or we'll call the Sheriff to come and evict you!" "WHAT!??" Then, I reminded myself that in Wonderland, every day is opposite day. I watch on the News as Murderers have mothers and/or fathers, brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles sitting by them, supporting them, hugging them, standing up for them to the press. It has brought me great peace to, the other day, have it completely dawn on me, as if being whispered to in etheric comfort, in a moment of silence, from a Protector on the Other Side, "You have done everything right...nothing wrong...and they persecute you still."
It's time for a Revolution on this planet, starting from within. Starting from this country. Everyone get willing to be the United States of America, from the inside, that made you, or your ancestors, want to come here. This is not a place to come to GET Freedom. You come here to rise to the occasion of BEING Freedom. And that is the mark of a Leader. If you are here, you are either from people or are the person who resonated with the idea of Freedom as your birthright and were leader enough to do something about it. Thus, the very definition of being a United States of American (We were taught the term "American" was politically incorrect. I find it ironic that it's now running rampant as if anyone in the Americas isn't an "American"), or citizen of this country, then, is to admit to being a leader amongst other leaders. And leaders know how to fall into right and accurate rank. How to learn and follow directives when that rank is properly ordered. How to do what is best for all people, rather than be ruled by selfish motivation. They are people, ultimately, who love other people, even above themselves, and would wish nothing more than for Justice to be with each and every one. You are not here to rape this land, its man-made reality, or anything under the sun. You are here to find the Truth of the All of Life and to share it. Truth and realization is the Gold--and the keys to unlocking Freedom for others. Find Freedom within, and share it. It is Light. It is unyielding honesty. Integrity. Strength which stands for your people and the places you come from, that looks to preserve itself in order to share and continue to be of benefit to all people. It looks to learn from others in this tremendous opportunity we all have to become better individuals, from the inside out, or not. When we replace our lust for capital with Love and love of virtue, instead, we will be heading in the right direction. And together.
May the greatest powers in the universe be with you as you do. May this begin to define how women and men, both, are beautiful, and how men and women, both, are powerful. WE ARE GREATER THAN THIS. WE ARE THE COMPOSITION OF GOD.