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dad died 2 years agol i was left his home. Worth 90,000. My sister was left it as well. My sister is a greedy person, and went behind my back, and rented it out, for 600.00 a month, to her daughter. I did not know this until tonight, when I went there to try and sell this house. ITS been on the market 2 years. I have no income. I want to sell this house, free and clear. Obvisously, my sister does not, as shes been making 600 dollars a month off of it, without telling me about it.
I want to sell it, Id sell it for very cheap- which is awful, because its a very nice home. I just need money,due to the economy.
what can I do? What are my rights? Does she have to sell? Should I go to the court house.
p.s I live in Maryland. If that matters. Allegany co., Maryland.
How can she hide the fact that shes been renting it out? ( to her daughter). there is no written lease. Just a verbal one. A secret one at that.
Any help is so appreciated, believe me.
This all just went down tonight. Someone is calling tomorrow morning, to give me an offer on the home. what can I do?? Help!!!!!
Thanks a Million
Mrs.Winner

I have been dancing for about a year and my dad was so nice in driving me an hour (both ways) for that time. I really appreciated it.
It was always hard. Once a month my dad would have a meeting on the same day as my dance lesson. My mom would occasionally take me on those days. It was always a hassle for them because they both worked and had to take off to take me there. They really have told me that they can’t just take off from work and leave anymore.
Anyway, I used to get so behind and would go sometimes several months without a lesson. I would spend the entire time trying to get caught up, and the ADCRG wouldn’t understand why I didn’t understand what was going on because she only could come to class once a month (she is ADCRG leader of several McTeggart schools). Communication was never good. The school would send us tons of emails that got forwarded to all the parents. My parents couldn’t keep up with them all and neither could I. at least 4 times we drove all the way there and found that it wasn’t going on that day. It was a pain.
I only have been to one feis and I loved it. I did very well for my first time. I placed in all of my dances but only advanced in one dance because of the lack of participants. (I was 14 and about to be 15)
But now it has been months since I’ve last been to Mcteggart. My dad avoids talking about irish dance these days and tries to explain to me that its so hard taking me (driving 2 hours for 1 hour of dancing on dangerous roads). I would drive myself when I am able but my father and my mother have both said that its not safe. I have to agree.. there are many white crosses alongside those roads. I understand.. it was a huge undertaking.
I understand it. I really do. It really was the only thing I could do that was a social activity because my town is small and limited and there are really no activities that you can participate in if you don’t start young. Its simply to awkward and there are literally no beginner levels for my age group for anything. And the worst part – NO irish dance classes. It was the only social, excersize activity that I could do. I was never good at any other dancing (I guess I can’t work both feet AND arms at the same time.. to much coordination involved ). I do art, but obviously thats not going to keep me in shape. And its really hard to excersize on my own with school.
Emotionally I am not okay with quiting ID. I felt so drawn to it 4 years ago when my Aunt was “Irish Man” of the year and I first saw them in the San Antonio parade. I went to the parade 3 times. Each time I renewed my love and desire to participate in ID. Each time I tried to find schools that were near my town. Finally I got to attend summer camp with the Irish Dance school in SA with the school that my aunt was affiliated with. I loved it I found. But SA was 3 hours from my home. So I had to go to a school that was an hour away, even though I always wanted to be at the SA school. I loved the dancing classes while they lasted. It was like my escape. (sooo corny, I know). I try to tell myself its time to quite. I try to tell myself that it is too much of a burden and I’m going nowhere with it. But I can’t get over it. Its pathetic. I can’t move on. Every time I hear one of my irish dancing songs on my ipod, I think of it and I wish I was still dancing. Its terrible.
I don’t know how to move on even if that is whats best for me. I know you think I sound like a freak. I just have excepted the fact that my parents can’t take me there anymore. I’m not going to push it anymore. I’m really crying as I write this. I’m an emotional unhappy camper.
I’m sorry to be such a downer on this board. I guess I just need some advice
I am struggling to replace ID with something as good as it is. But its really hard in this extremely limited, close-minded town. All the sports I feel I am too old to participate in because everyone has been playing for years and I moved here when I was 6 but at the time never had interest in the sports. My parents signed me up for things when I was younger.. I made it to middle school.. tried out for teams and never made it. I was criticized for being too thin and not muscular. I gave up then.
Do you have any advice? I’m really sorry for this long thread post. I’m just venting right now. I would really appreciate any life coaching lol and any opinions.

My dad has a decent collection of short stories he has written over several decades that I want to combine in kind of an anthology of his work. I was planning on going on like Blurb.com or Lulu to self publish it, and maybe even have it listed on Amazon for fun. On Lulu they sell ISBN. Or I thought about actually sending it to a publisher to get published. But since his stories are very niche, I don’t know if there’s publishers that will pick up his stories.
Anyway, my question is… Years ago he may have had some of these stories published in magazines. He never got paid, but it was like Deer hunter magazines that he sent to. They liked his story so they published it. No money was exchanged. I’m wondering if the magazine would have the rights to these stories or can he still do what he wants with his stuff?
All of his work is printed off from the printer or in the forms of old emails. It be fun to see it edited, formatted, and all together in a collection so that’s what I’m doing for him right now. I’m just wondering how far I can attempt to go with his stories.
And yes he knows I’m doing this. I got a stack of papers I have to retype because the digital copy of many of these stories are lost and only thing that’s left is what he copies with copy machine.

My sister had terrible acne as a teenager. She used the toughest creams and was almost going to sign on to take Acutane. Should the Benzyl Peroxide and Salicylic Acid products work?? Benzyl Peroxide and Salicylic Acid are in EVERY SINGLE acne product around. They’re all the same. Proactive is the same as Neutragena. It’s very hard to believe that something actually works when they all have the same active ingredients in it. Since nothing worked, my dad created an acne gel for my sister to use and now she’s cured It has the smallest amount of Salicylic acid in it so the FDA will allow it on shelves. The active ingredient is a secret and it’s patent pending. I told my friends that my sister had terrible acne and they couldn’t believe it. My dad also gave it my mom’s friends’ kids and it worked on them as well and they had horrible acne and now they have clear skin. It also removes redness. My dad has been to many companies like Johnson and Johnson and smaller companies and they don’t want anything unless it was made by their research and development team. How can I get my dad’s product on the market if there are no companies that will take it and sell it?? If my dad’s gel was on the market, there’d be no kids with embarrassing acne!! It’s like we have the rarest of all diamonds just sitting on the kitchen table and nobody wants it. Any ideas?

I grew up in several violent environments. when I was five years old, my father began drinking and would be aggressive and rude with my mother. When I turned twelve, he was able to stop, but I had threatened my school a couple days before, because I was upset with a lot of the students, and I grew up thinking that’s how you’re supposed to act when your upset, so I was sent to a treatment facility. After six months in treatment, I flipped out and destroyed a lot of property, and hurt a kid there, and I was sent to juvenile-hall. I was thirteen when I left there, and I was being transferred to a facility in Springville, Utah, called Somerset. I was there for four months, and I flipped out again and hurt one of the staff members, so I was transferred again to another facility in Provo, Utah, called Provo Canyon School. I just turned fourteen when I had arrived there, and for the next year I was beaten up by both the inmates, AND the staff-members, as well as being raped, shanked, choked, and mechanically-restrained. I’m sixteen now, and I just got out, and my dad’s struggling with his addiction, and his pretty stressed most of the time. My seventeen year old sister is high and/or drunk most of the time. Her fiance is usually drunk and/or high as well. My mother is always stressed out, and the kids at my school think I’m insane. I talked with my therapist, and he says that if I don’t feel comfortable at my home, then I could go to a place in Fairbanks, Alaska, (100 miles north of my town). I told him I would like to as long as it’s not a restrictive/threatening/violent/forceful environment. He told me that’s it’s pretty much just like my home just without the intoxicated/violent family members. I told him that I’d talk to my parents about it. My mom said that she’d be sad if I left, but she thinks it would be the best thing for me. My dad was drunk tonight, so she didn’t tell him yet, but I’m sure once he’s coherent again that he’d think it was a good idea as well. At the foster-home-type place, you’re allowed to go to public school, but I have absolutely no idea how average sixteen year olds are supposed to act. I am constantly training in martial arts, home defense tactics, combat shooting, SPEC-OPS physical training, cryptology, memorizing miniscule details of my surroundings, performing background searches on every new person I meet, checking every detail of whatever I’m about to eat, and the list goes on and on. I do all these things in order to significantly reduce the possibility of becoming a victim to violent/mentally unstable individuals. Now, I know very well that average teens most likely don’t do these things, and when I first got back to school, they thought that I was severely paranoid…and they’re probably right…but my “paranoia” has saved the lives of several third-parties as well as my own, so there’s not a chance that I’m going to stop being “paranoid”. My question is this: How can I still perform my preventive measures around others discreetly, and still seem like a normal teen once I move to Fairbanks?
What do teens usually wear? What books do they read? What movies do they watch? What hobbies do they enjoy? What music do they listen to? How to they talk? How do they carry themselves? Where do they like going? Why do they affiliate themselves with “cliques”? When do they hang-out? What kind of friendships do they form? Any other information would be highly appreciated. Thanks.

I confided in my parents that my uncle masturbated in front of me and asks me to participate. This happened long time ago when I was in elementary school. I kept it secret until my early 30’s, about a half a decade ago.
A couple years before I confessed about my uncle, I confessed that my grandfather would behave in such a way that blurred the lines of a healthy grandfather/daughter relationship. My grandfather would play kiss and tickle, while pressing his boy on top of me, kissing my neck and ear on the bed. I felt his package when he pressed on.
I was confused. I felt guilty for liking the closeness. Did not like the kissing and pressing, but the liked attention and time spent. I felt it was “wrong”, based on what my parents taught me, what I learned from tv and school. Was latch key kid, when my grandparents were not around.
One incident, I was sleeping on the couch in my grandparents’ apartment. I was half asleep. My grandfather checked underneath my shorts and panties. I pretended I was asleep. The thing about this, is I don’t know if I was asleep or dreaming. I was scared. I doubt myself. And try to rethink it over and over, to make sure if it happen. It felt real. I question myself then.
One clear incident for sure was in the kitchen. My grandfather pinched my nipples over my t-shirt, laughing and making fun of me, when I was washing the dishes. I was around the age I was developing. I felt violated and ashamed of my developing body. These experiences are confusing to me. I doubt myself and have shame. This is with my grandfather. He died when I reached high school.
My grandmother was sweet and loving. I love her. One time I went to the near-by grocery market with her. I was in junior high or late elementary school. We bought a couple items. One of the items was a pornographic magazine. She told me it was for my grandfather. I knew the magazine was a strange thing to buy, when a grandchild was with her. I felt awkward when the items were rung up by the local cashier. I was embarrassed and shameful. Other than that incident, she has not blurred appropriate family lines in that sense. I wish she did not do that though. She has also past away.
I believe my uncle, my grandfather and grandmother, acted the way they did because of the culture or environment they came from. I am proud of my culture and ethnicity, but condemn the mentioned behaviors. That is not how we are suppose to act these days, in this society. The effects are damaging to me.
I have kept these secrets for many many many years. I secretly feel ashamed, guilty, dirty, embarrassed, angry towards mostly my dead grandfather and living uncle. I am at limbo.
Since I have confessed most of these to my parents, my mother tells me I speak too freely and they have given me too much freedom to express what is on my mind. One, they no longer give me freedom. I have freedom regardless of them.
My parents want me to stop speaking about it. My dad wants me to stop telling my dad how much a hate my uncle and would like my dad to stop playing chess with my uncle. My dad is obsessed with chess. I have been told by family members to get over it. It’s my demon that I want to release. My mom calls me a record player. I guilt them for not protecting or doing something about it when they did have an inkling about my uncle long time ago. I will put effort in stopping the guilt trips.
At one point, my uncle was caught doing the kiss tickle game with my sister. My uncle was banished from the house back then. He never said sorry to my sister and I. After a couple years, he was back playing chess with my dad. We just grew up knowing not to get too close to him.
Fast forward to present, I feel my hands are tide because in the police station parking lot, one night about a month ago, I called my best friend. I was about to finally begin closer with that past; and begin my present justice + move on. I had self doubt. My best friend advice me to tell my uncle’s daughters, my cousins. To give them a head’s up because I cared about them too. I had felt guilty growing up, knowing he could potentially behave this way to them. That was weighing.
I told one. She was crushed. The next day, she told me to do what I need to do to move on. But, she pleaded and pleaded though that this would mess up what is going on in her life. Her life has been real hard because school, work and family dynamics are already stressful and much too handle already.
I held off, again… I had already kept this a secret and lived. I don’t think I’m ready either, right now. I feel, that I think about this constantly, in and out of the activities of life. Life is a bit tricky right now, so doing it now isn’t good. I have to find a job and earn money for rent. I am living on hard-earned savings. I am a mess, emotionally. I am working on keeping my physical and mental at check. I feel at the edge. I am trying to find