Getting lost and found

It's the day before Christmas and there are no mice around. It's still very quiet. My loved one is asleep and I am thinking of the past year. Not a great one in some respects. I've already written about how my post traumatic stress disorder got completely beyond my control to the point where one Saturday in late September, I simply and angrily wrote "I am very angry and I am an idiot", then went to sleep. I knew I had to do something and that was to get to Lynda Steel, an incredible woman, who had helped me get sober and taught me so much. In retrospect if I had actually stayed at her Project Reovery Inc, my Chevy pick up would be working as I would never have got stuck in Barstow, N. California. Where two Triple A Autoclub accredited companies; Barstow Towing and Barstor Fuel 76 (who wrecked my engine) conspired to steal it. A problem I have yet to find a solution for. And Los Angeles is not fun without a car to get around in. However, I had such an adventure getting to Project Recovery Inc. My sense of direction is not the best in L.A. where at least I recognize horizons; and out there on the freeways on my way to Salt Lake City, I managed to take a wrong turn in Nevada and ended up in Arizona. The initial part of my journey was frightening. My ptsd was bad, my panio attacks were awful. I had an ear infection and the sound of the trucks aggravated that, and combined with panic attacks sent me off the freeway in fear and flight many times. Usually, I try to get off at an exit, however, the side of the freeway will do if necessary until I can calm myself down and get back on the road again. One fear and flight happened just before an exit and unconcerned where it would lead me I left the freeway, just desperate to get off. I drove around quiet country road between 3-4 a.m. in the morning and at crossroad, I came across a small village of pebbled roads and neat trailers. It seemed a good place to take a nap. Driving very slowly and quietly through it to an end of one road, I found myself looking at the one place in all the world I have wanted to visit since reading about The Hopi Tribe in one of James Mitchener's books. I had arrived at Black Rock. Black Rock is the Spiritual Home of The Hopi Tribe and there it was. A dark velvet gray mountain range with a crystal clear sky; the sun coming up in the west, a bright silver gold and the pale white ghostly moon waning in the east. The many stars were so bright overhead; and above the range as if suspended, shimmered a silver cross. Or Silver Eagle as I learned it's also referred to. Immense peace came to me; I was in awe. All fear left me and I knew who I was again. I atayed there for at leaast an hour, sketching; and hope that I will be able to paint a picture and capture some of the magic I witnessed. I was fine; I'd found me again. I could have driven back to L.A., however, I had made a commitment to Lynda and nher daughter, Leah and I continued my route to Salt Lake City. Plus, I wanted to see my sister and her family who live there. Of course, I was not surprised to find myself several hours later on the other side of the Black Rock mountain range! This time in a parking area, with trucks and other cars. Here I met Chas from Georgia; a truck driver, who kindly brought out his map and we wrote specific freeways to follow. To no avail, I got lost again and I am not sure where, except that yet again a truck driver from Wisconsin helped me. He also used his own rope to more securely tie down the tarpaulin that was a constant parachute in my rear mirror. At rhw beginning of August I decided to finally apply for American Citizenship, at which point I learned that women are not equal under the USA Constitution. I was totally horrified and guess that I had never noticed because I came here equal under British law and assumed the same applied in the US. I decided to take a sample poll with the simple question (no political affiliation asked for), "Do you believe women should be equal under the US Constitution". Continuing to get lost, or at least uncertain whether I was on the correct route, I stopped a lot, including to get gas and something to eat. I calculate I met around 300 people before I arrived back in LA, and all but 5 answered yes. I was particularly fortunate at one Comfort Inn; where a very kind young woman also let me charge my sell phone; to meet a tourist coach party having breakfast. They were from all over the States. I asked the same question at each stop, consequently my poll was pretty accurate in terms of the country's population and I believe it's reasonable to state that between 90-95% believe women should be equal under the Constitution. An aside, however, learning The Constitution in preparation for my Citizenship, I find it surprising to learn that women were equal under the original 10 Bill of Rights, as they refer to a President being impeached, as he or she. Odd to ponder that we all came here in search of freedom and as the Constitution developed, groups were excluded then included again, until we are left with only women not being equal. However, President Obama will correct this. Back to my unplanned road trip. For the first time since I moved to this country in 1978, I was among "normal" Americans, not ones from the entertainment business and there are great people in this country. Everyone I asked for help from, gave it willingly and I learned so much. There are people suffering from the economy, yet they work hard and do not complain. Why should I complain about a childhood and adolescence that I cannot much remember; except for the good times; and let it affect me now. I do not remember all of the names of the people I met, however, I remember the tall African American Walker brothers from Texas who helped me get back into my Chevy after I locked my keys and the spare set in it. Kasey; originally from Persia; who I met in Ontario and who kindly tried to find the nail I thought was in one of my tires. He and I had a great political discussion and I learned a very different story of why the Shah of Persia was forced to abdicate. He asked me to help him write his life story, which I hope to be able to do. There was Denise Polido who worked at a Daybreak Inn, who was so kind and caring and I wrote in my quasi journal "calmed me down". Wendy, Joyce, Brandon and their pekenese Violet who I met in Territorial, when I stayed at their inn. There I also saw Monezuma's Castle, a National Monument well worth visiting and you can learn some of America's history and the ranges built up over millions of years. I met so many, many kind people. I had time to listen to the radio, NPR and the BBC and learned so much. I finally ended up at Project Recovery Inc and still feel guilty that Leah in particular worried about me taking so long to get there, with my getting lost so many times. Getting lost, however, helped me find myself again.

An Unexpected Journey and A Cautionary Tale

I set off for Salt Lake City on September 2, to enter Project Recovery, as my post traumatic stress disorder had gone way beyond my control.
I had tried various other ways to calm that (ptsd group, church and bible study,and 12 step meetings) and my panic attacks and depression, but had become a human yo yo. Swinging from manic to suicidal. Sometimes it was hysterically funny, and I would accordingly laugh at myself! Other times, I would simply break down and cry.
Sadly, I managed to alienate my immediate family, although some have forgiven me.
The increase in my post traumatic stress disorder (as well as loss of appetite, or binge ice cream eating and the return of horrible nightmares) was a steady incline from my first ever serious car accident(42 years of driving and only minor dings and scrapes to that point, plus one of my friends, a UK police constable had taught me as well as a boat builder and other friends - anyone except my adored Dad or my ex husband)on September 9, 2008 at approximately 1.25 p.m. on my way to a therapy session.
Craig Ferguson's wife, Megan Cunningham Reid, literally drove into my car in a Continental Navigator, while I was waiting for the traffic lights to change on Beverly Boulevard and Curson. I was looking to the traffic light on my right,so all damage done to that side, plus pelvis. I have persevered and corrected my body using the exercises given to me by Max Pohomac, MD, a lovely, lovely man,who really cares about his patients. As do his delightful staff. Practise (323) 244-4763 6200 Wilshire Boulevard, Los Angeles, CA 90038
Fortunately, I was driving a Volvo Station Wagon, otherwise I think that my passenger and I would have been seriously injured and my beloved companion dog,a beautiful German Shepherd, Anita (laying on the back seat)possibly killed.
I only drove that car a few more times, as it was too much of a reminder of the accident.
And people in LA in their SUV's believe they are invincible!
For the second (the first was in a banger car race, where the first go around, I was so slow, I was lapped! However, in the demolition Derby at the end with 32 cars on the track - and provoked by mechanics after I had ended up in the middle of the track, who suggested I just go off again and hit a car - which I did, and ended up being one of the last three cars,facing the MD of EMI Records) time in my life,I was hit so hard, I thought the world had collapsed. I saw Jason thrown backwards and forwards,his hands against the glove compartment.
Both Megan and I moved towards each other, each of us asked if the other was okay. Megan is very kind young woman. Craig is very fortunate. And he is also a fine actor and screen writer - his "Saving Grace" had me in laughter from beginning to the end, especially the scene in a British tiny grocery store where two old ladies have drunk what they think is herbal tea, and it is, however, of the kind one may occasionally smoke.
Anyway, back to my journey - and the car accident that started off the journey.
Well, I was stupid. I negotiated some money for the damage to Jason's elbow from hitting the glove compartment and that was paid within 4 weeks. I negotiated the money for the damage to my Volvo, which Farmers Insurance (a company I very much dislike, but not their insurance agent) also accepted and I would have received that quickly, BUT, I made a mistake!
I phoned a lawyer (who I once admired and trusted) having decided I needed a lawyer! And they recommended one. A friend of their wife's.
I am told by said lawyer that they will file the complaint against Farmers in December 2008. Sounded reasonable to me.
But do they file in December - no - they do not. They do not file until February of 2010!!
My Deposition is not taken until July 2010, now I am faced with Mediation or a trial in 2011.

I was confident that psychotherapist, Lynda Steele would be able to help me as she had when I had entered Cirque Lodge in its early days in November 1999.






How funny, of course I remain genuine and unique.
I too have been manic and diverted from what I had intended to do. My attempt to get people to sign my petition for Equal Rights for women under the USA Constitution have so far not done very well. For lots of reasons, however, not through my lack of persistence.
I have spent hours and hours per day since I set up the Petition on The White House Pages Petitions.
I have raised my internet presence so much, that yesterday, the influential Huffington Post awarded me no 1 profile.
And as you know, seeking fame was never my thing. I've only ever given a few interviews and then only to people I trust would not make such a big thing of the fact that I am a woman.
I have certainly used every marketing skills I've learned over many years and in different businesses (do you know that I have run companies since I was 18/19 (with only 2 o'levels) - and I suppose if I wanted to I could continue to be high profile!
Are you coming over for any particular reason?

LIVING WITH DEPRESSION AND POST TRAUMATIC STRESS DISORDER

Thanks Maureen, I do remember being horrified at the the thought of Regan becoming President, and how absurd I thought that was, but my mind is a complete blank when it comes to women's rights. That probably was the year I spent a lot of time avoiding going into the office as much as possible because Sal Licata was President of the record company. I seem to remember a fixation with soap operas. Sal's method of running the company was to divide and rule. And while I didn't know that at the time, Chrysalis was my "family" and it was falling apart just as my own family had; almost birth through adolescence. At the moment I am battling depression and post traumatic stress disorder. The depression in part due to taking antibiotics for an ear infection and I have to see a ENT doc to sort that out, and have procrastinated about this for I don't know how long and I don't particularly know why. I have finally pin pointed the start date of the increase in ptsd. It has gathered in momentum since I was rear ended on September 9th at 1:25 pm by a 2 ton Continental Navigator and looking right to the traffic light on the corner of Curson and Beverly Boulevard heading west to see my psychiatrists. Anyway, the ptsd reached such a point that I was a human yo yo, one minute laughing at myself; and the next almost suicidal. I was going to go to a clinic for what I originally thought was 30 days, but found out that it was a 3 month commitment and couldn't arrange a place for my boyfriend to be close to me there. And now I stop because I am sitting here with so many thoughts running through my head again. I have not put anything on Facebook today because of the Texas fires. I don't know why, but I thought it insensitive to do so. However, I would very much like to use your email first thing in the morning pm Facebook. If you prefer to reman anonymous, I can exclude your name. Anyway, I still have to find out how to get 25 friends to join the page, and am finding the instructions on how to do this practically incomprehensible. I am not sure whether this is deliberate so that I pay for an ad or what. I may well challenge FB again, as I have done previously; when they removed posts I started putting the era issue on there. Their executive board has only one woman on it. I am tweeting ERA fairly regularly and may do that after I understand more about the Texas fires. I also intend to find out how many women died in the 9/11 disaster. And that would also be a day to calculate how much money was lost since I know the AIDs LA office closed that day. I didn't know about the disaster, because I was having another period of not listening to or watching the news, because I personally find the news here so skewed. I do remember wondering why the streets were so deserted on my way to the office and on seeing a note on the door; that the office was closed and thought that a member of staff had died. But I knocked on the door anyway, and there was someone there and he told me what had happened and I thought he was joking. Sadly; is an inadequate adverb; he was watching the news because he had a friend who worked at the World Trade Centre. I think that was the only time I have ever watched the news all day, because it was simply unbelievable; and I could not comprehend how evil people can be. Anyway, I have rambled on enough. Please let me know if it's okay to put your company's actions regarding ERA. It occurs to me that there would have been more women working in the publishing company in exec positions, than the record company?? Also I think Chuck had left by then and Lance was in charge? My lawyer wanted me to interview for Lance's job, but I decided I couldn't because Lance was a friend and he deserved the job. And I'm an still kicking myself for not accepting Joe Smith's offer to start the publishing companies for Electra/Asylum/Nonesuch. My loyalty was not rewarded. I'd love to see you again soon? Ann 323 461 1722

Suzanne Vega On The Wall

Well a glutton for punishment - I am not

I am actually going to write another blog just to complain.
The last two blogs I wrote would not publish, nor could they be saved. And as I can't remember what I wrote about they couldn't have been that interesting!
I have reached another phase in my ever changing life. I realised that my friends actually know me better than the majority of my family.
And while my friends actually like me because they know me, certain family members don't, and they don't know me either, which makes it rather ironic that they don't like me. Because how can you dislike someone if you don't know them? Unless they're Hitler or Cheyne or Pot Pol or other similar evil people.
And I realised that their not liking me, is absolutely fine with me, because I don't actually like either of them,and I do know them because I've bothered to get to know them, though they don't know me and haven't even bothered to get to know me.
I still love them, or rather love who they used to be; and would not wish any harm to come to either of them, however, have no interest in ever seeing either one of them again.
And it isn't as if I haven't tried to like them, because I have.
But how do you like a bully? And how do you like somone so self centred that they think everything revolves around them and who likes to have status symbol cars. Give me 4 wheels and a reasonable engine and chassis and I am happy to get from A to B.

My art site http://annmunday.fineartstudioonline.com/

When I was young, aside from reading greedily anything I could get my hands on, I loved to create. Made my first dress from a curtain when I was 8. Was pretty inventive, and was good at most subjects in school until adolescence when my first stepmother's violent physical and worse, emotional abuse, took me from being in the top 5 in most subjects to nowhere. Apparently (and I studied psychology in my 40's), abuse affects your powers of concentration. I had been taught by my Dad (a Chess Master)before the age of 9, how to beat him at chess. So while I can still play chess, I can't keep my mind focused sufficiently more than about 3 moves ahead.
Regardless, I still ended up as one of the most senior and well known women in the music industry particularly in the US and the the UK, and most of the rest of the world. Was the first woman, the youngest person and I believe the first European to be nominated for the ASCAP Board of Directors in 1983 when I was only 34 (10 years earlier I had run Elton's and Bernie's music publishing companies in the UK.
Giving up alcohol after my father's death in 1992, I had a nervous breakdown. The wall between depression, post traumatic stress disorder and panic attacks came down. Li safe became unbearable.
However, as I slowly recovered, I started to paint again. I'd wanted to go to art college from school, where I was top in art, but evil stepmother (yes, the ones you find in fairy tales)wouldn't allow it. So I did jobs that were art related and somehow that landed me in the music industry.
I had great fun and am writing an autobiography about my experience working in the music business boys' club; and am enjoying doing that, as I've always loved writing and reading.
However, art was my first passion and is that now. I chose watercolours because I know that they are the hardest medium to master (my partner, Jason does so - just naturally. It's taken a while to get to where I am now, a lot of practice, and a lot of patience.
Art is rewarding and no matter what you do, you keep on learning. It's also addictive and I'd rather be doing that more than anything else (except for Voice Overs as I'd prefer not to be a starving painter) and I just keep getting better.
My latest piece is 20" x 16" and was commissioned by a really kind and caring man, Michael Peter Dedes of We Focus on Life, who I met when I visited the UK in February/March. It's a serene watercolour and full of mystic and I can honestly say it's the first piece I am really proud of. I learned a huge amount painting it, and Jason helped me when I kept looking at it, and knowing something wasn't quite right, but not what. So take a look if you have time. http://annmunday.fineartstudioonline.com/

Tom (Thomas Aaron) Bolan

I first met Tom, when I (was Senior Vice President and responsible for establishing The Chrysalis Music Group USA) in New York January of 1983, when I interviewed him for the job of Copyright Manager. I had interviewed a lot of people, and Tom and I just clicked and I knew that he and I would work well together.


I was on my way to Cannes to attend Midem, and we continued the interview in my hotel room, and as he often enjoyed reminding me was handing me this or that bra. He got the job.


And so began a long, long and very close friendship, that had a few gaps in it, as life took us in different directions.


Tom's first task was to come to LA and organize moving all of the copyright and legal files to New York. He stayed with me at my 3 bedroomed apartment, and amused me a great deal when he decided one morning; that in his rental car he could beat me to the LA office. I was driving a shift BMW, and aside from the fact that I knew LA really well, and all the short cuts, I knew he stood no chance, however, found it amusing that he was prepared to challenge his new boss to a race!


I knew that Tom was gay from the first moment I met him (I have lots of gay friends), however, could not understand at all why he was pretending not to be. Decided to solve this by taking him out for dinner at my faourite restaurant, Le Dome, where he saw lots of celebrities, which he enjoyed. Some time during the dinner, I just asked if he had a boyfriend and what was his name and what was he like. So that solved that difficulty!


Tom's ability to arrive at the office on time in the morning was practically never, and his many excuses were always amusing. Also, he never had a simple health problem, something in his eye, would become an enbolism, a headache, a tumor and I learned that you can get a hangover from too much msg! What is that I asked, well it comes from eating too much Chinese food!


We had a truly unpleasant man, Jack Craigo, as President of Chrysalis Records (and if not for Terry Ellis breaking his word, I would have been President of The Chrysalis Music Group USA and not reported to Craigo) and he constantly complained to me about Tom's tardiness in the mornings. But then, Craigo complained about almost everything! Anyway, my response to Craigo, was that as Tom is prepared to work long hours past the hour of leaving in the evening; and come over to my apartment at weekends when necessary; to sort out a contract or copyright matter, I am fine with him being late in the morning. That ended that problem.


Tom's apartment was not too far from mine on the upper Westside and I was astounded at how much he had managed to fit into such a small place, including a piano. We often enjoyed a curry on a Sunday at my apartment.


I also had the pleasure of meeting his mother several times, who I understand tried to persuade Tom to marry me and in fact Tom did eventually ask me to marry him some time in the 2000's, as he wanted me to be taken care of. Mary was a very lovely and fine lady, who kindly crocheted a blanket for me and a beautiful lace collar, both of which I still have.


I hated shopping, however, there are times when you need clothes and Tom delighted in his story of being with me in the original New York Norma Kamali store, when an assistant came up to him and asked if he was looking for something in particular. As Tom was over 6' tall and a sturdy man, his response that "I don't think you'll have anything to fit me", was apt. In fact, I dragged him off shopping many times and he never minded at all.


I also met his lovely friend Geoffrey, and he and I became friends too. In fact, Tom told me some time much later that Geoff had wanted to marry me.


At Chrysalis, Tom was basically my right hand, and Tina Makris my left hand.


Tom was highly intelligent and a great asset to the company and for me. He was, however, dumbfounded at my memory. He knew that if he were to ask me a question about a provision or question about any of our many contracts, I would be able to give him the answer immediately.


He took me to my first opera in New York (I had been to one before, however, I think I was about 8), and was a little embarrassed that I kept laughing; apparently not something you do unless the opera is amusing. However, I found the fact that a cast member who died in the first act, appeared in the second, and that all of the actors dressed in Chinese outfits were wearing sneakers just plain funny!


We were a big part of each other's lives in New York.


I left the company in 1985, having finally had enough of Jack Craigo and his disrespect for people in general, his unpleasant manner and his haughtiness. I think the only time he was vaguely amusing was when he had a glass of wine or a joint.


Tom and I did meet up in London one time during his visit there, however, it wasn't a particularly enjoyable evening as one of the other guests was a self opinionated idiot who was head of some green party.


When I returned to LA in 1997, to help my brother, Tom and I caught up with each other again, although I can't remember how. He had now gone to law school and got a degree in that and I was really proud of him; in addition to his music degree from one of the top music colleges. He has played me some of his compositions and they are wonderful. We fell back into our easy friendship very quickly.


I shall be forever grateful that he helped and supported me often when I could not understand what my brother's lawyer was up to. We soon agreed that whatever it was, it wasn't good. Eventually, I was able to demonstrate to my brother exactly how bad his lawyer was, when he nearly went to jail for contempt of court and Tom found the best family lawyers, with one of the principle partners, a court appointed member of a Legal Children's Rights Group. And he always lent me his ear, when I got frustrated at how badly my brother was handling the custody battle in particular; since it involved two young girls and my ex sister in law is a sociopath.


I also got to meet his mother again when she came to visit him, and just as she was when I first met her, a lovely woman who adored her son.


Tom, unfortunately got into drugs. And I am no saint, having done them myself when I lived in New York. However, he did get into trouble and was eventually arrested and put in the LA County Jail, a very unpleasant place to be. Another so called friend, Cynthia Blatt; a woman I had also worked with at Chrysalis in New York, and whom I simply do not like nor respect and neither did Tom; wanted to leave him there. But I could not do this. And was able to post bail of $10,000 and went and collected him from the County Jail.


When Tom's beloved mother became sick, Tom went off to Opp, Alabama and as best as I could, I listened to him whenever he called and helped as much as I could, including paying his electricity bill, when I had barely enough money of my own. He repaid me.


Sadly, his mother's death increased his drug taking and although his taking drugs is not funny, his behaviour often was. He would call me and whisper into the phone and ask me to come over, where I would find him behind closed curtains surrounded by boxes, which he had not yet unpacked. And tell me that people were watching him. Whenever I drove him anywhere, he would point out that the adjacent car had a microphone. One really silly moment was in a drug store on Santa Monica Boulevard where we had gone to a pharmacy for him to pick something up. He disappeared and I was left standing there trying to look interested in all the health foods around for 20 minutes and being chatted up by a woman. Enough was enough; and I used my cell phone to call his cell phone and ask what on earth was he doing! He reappeared, asked me to pretend to faint and he would help me out of the pharmacy. No, I will not. We then had to drive up a street leading to nowhere, with him telling me that all the helicopters above were following him. Well, there are always loads of helicopters flying around LA and I had now had more than enough and demanded to know where he wanted me to take him. Which I did.

I persuaded him to get into a rehab, and took him there. It was an awful place and I particularly did not respect the owner, so I was not surprised when he showed up on my doorstep with his belongings. The rehab had already phoned me and advised me not to help him. But I could not leave him on the streets and so he came to live with my family, even sharing my bed until his snoring was keeping me awake so often, that I had to decide he needed to sleep on our sofa bed in our living room. He would often take Vanessa, the youngest one to school in his open top Toyata Celica, dance music blaring loudly, which she enjoyed and turning up at school in an open topped sports car.


In 2003, my ex friend, country singer Carlene Carter was in trouble, as her partner, Howie Epstein of over 10 years had died and not left a will, and Howie's ugly brothers (he and I had dinner one time, and he had told me how they only called him when they wanted something from him - very sad) were trying to take everything away from her, including a property she co owned with Howie in New Mexico. Tom did all he could to help her, and help me help her and I was very grateful for his help and advice. She never thanked him.


When Carlene was evicted from the house she shared with Howie in LA, I became a housekeeper for 3 months for a lovely old man in Beverly Hills. But his former housekeeper returned from living with her daughter in another state, and I was now homeless.


Tom took me in, together with my beloved German shephed, Anita and we lived together until about 2005 or perhaps later. During this time, we managed to sort out his sleep apnea (I'd kept nagging him about it, because my brother has the same and I knew the symptoms) when he finally fell into a cabinet and I cradled his head covered in blood waiting for the paramedics. He finally took care of his sleep apnea. Tom was a bit of a hypochondriac, which I knew already from working with him in New York, nevertheless I knew when he was really ill, and freqently took him to Cedars Sinai hospital late at night and stayed with him until he was treated and brought him home, or visited him if he had to stay.


He introduced me to Stephen King novels and films, as I thought that I didn't like Stephen King's work and I became a huge fan. And I am still reading one of his books that Tom gave me just before I went off to the UK. We had so much fun watching so many movies together, often with Anita joining us on his sofa. She would start by sitting, however, before not too long she would be stretched out and Tom and I would be perched on either end of his sofa!


I would also help Tom with his court filings, which he would get into a complete panic about and needed my help to calm him down and sort the papers into order as well as proof read them for him and make suggestions. Some of which he followed and others, he didn't. I also appeared in court for him, when one of his clients, Stuart Katsch (Tom grew to loathe him as he felt used for his legal expertise, and while Stuart paid him for some of the work, I am not sure he was ever really fully compensated) decided he was going to stay an extra few days in France with a boyfriend and pretend to be sick. I won the case, following Tom's directions, although I have to admit that the Judge was taken by my English accent.


There were two things I disliked intensely. His love of Wagner's opera's and his shopping at Cosco. One Wagnerian opera (The Ring I think) was truly, truly awful, in fact so awful, I became mesmerized to see how much more awful it could get (he did eventually admit to me that it was a very bad production!). Shopping at Cosco was an ordeal, with him wandering up and down the files for at least an hour, sometimes longer. I did share his love of Dr Who and Torchwood (and after moving into where I now live) when visiting him, we would watch these together. Although he would always try and get me to watch another of his collection of musicals, most of which I never liked. Musicals in general, not being to my taste.

He encouraged me in my pursuit of my dream to be a watercolor painter, and had two of my early paintings proudly displayed with other items he was proud of. And he also asked me to marry him again, so that I would get his widow's benefit, which was such a kind and caring offer.

We grieved together over the loss of his lovely friend, Geoffrey, and I visted him more often and we sat and he shared his memories of his friend and I listened to his grief and consoled him as best as I could.

With his bad foot making it impossible for him to drive, I took him to the bank whenever he needed that, his doctor's appointments (sadly, I had taken him to his HIV doctor the week before he died, and he was so excited that his HIV count was so low, that it was almost undetectable), local shopping and other errands he need to do. And Cosco! However, he had learned to shop more quickly, thank goodness. I would go over, when he was depressed and get him out of bed and get him moving. He enjoyed the company of my boyfriend, Jason, who he was kind to and accepted; and that was special to Jason, as he suffers with severe anxiety disorder, and Tom was one of the very few people he'd visit. So Jason misses him as well.

I was alone in the UK (my family had gone off skiing 3 days after I arrived, leaving me in charge of their ducks and chickens, and a puppy Labrador, Holly, which is another blog), when I received the email that Tom had died and I simply didn't know what to do. I was absolutely devastated. I felt really guilty that I had not been in LA still. One, because I had promised him he would never die alone; which he was so afraid of; and afraid for his beloved cats, which I promised him would not go back to the shelter he got them from (two of them I think, sadly have) and two, because if I had been here, I would immediately have gone over and taken him to the hospital. I knew Tom so well, that I could judge when he just needed company, or was sick and needed help. I would not have just called 911. A friend is a friend is a friend. Also, he had made me his agent in his Healthcare Directive and told me what he wanted, a privilege and an honor he gave to me. He is in mine.

I miss Tom very much and am still grieving over his passing. I enjoyed so many of our conversations, and visiting him and now whenever I drive near where he lived, I think of him more and have come to avoiding the area.

I am devastated at what Tom's so called friends have done to me, and know that he would be too. He had so often talked about what he would leave me; what was most precious to him; his rosewood cabinets and the semi precious stones, and his mother's punch bowl and cups.

Tom grew to loathe calls from either Cynthia Blatt or Stuart Katsch, as he just felt used by them for his legal expertise. I was often present when he would not take their calls. He was always afraid for his friend, Rick Soares, who drinks. One time, when still living with Tom, I had to drive miles to the beach to collect Rick because he was so drunk. And when Rick recently lost his license for a DUI, he was relieved that his friend would no longer be at risk driving.

Rick Soares lied to me in an email, telling me that I had not been included in Tom's will, and I only learned that I was, when the LA Public Authority phoned me to tell me. I cannot think of why Rick would lie about something he knew would hurt me. Not because of not getting anything, but that Tom had forgotten about me. I don't believe he did.

While I was in the UK, Rick emailed me for all sorts of information, that I knew and he didn't; and didn't care that that only added to my pain of losing Tom.

When I returned to LA, Rick called me and told me that he and Cynthia had gone through Tom's belongings and they had left some of them for me. It was hard for Jason and I to go over to Tom's apartment, however, it was even harder and made me cry when I saw what they had left for me. A kitchen trash bin, a rolling pin, mismatched cutlery, glasses, and basically just trash (Rick had even had the nerve to ask me to take what I didn't want to an AIDS goodwill store), nothing of any value at all and so I left most of it. There are a few things that I took, because I recognized them as coming from his mother; some made by her, which I thought his beloved cousin, Katherine (he often spoke to me about her and we had planned to go an visit his house in Alabama and I was looking forward to meeting her). He had told me of his difficult childhood, his hard grandfather and his other relations that wouldn't accept him because he was gay.

I cannot do much for Tom now and the only thing I can do as a blood donor, is donate blood in his memory at Cedars Sinai, where I had taken him so often and this I shall do.

Tom, I shall always remember you, your memory will not fade. I will remember our laughing together so often, our sharing Chinese meals, pizzas and watching films together. I shall remember your wit and your intellect, your helping my family (even if you did have me do errands for you in return - that was fair) and all the fun we had.