Projection

Dr. Google says "In psychology, projection is a defense mechanism/personality disorder where someone unconsciously or consciously attributes their own thoughts, feelings, or traits to another person or group".

Taking that translation into consideration, it seems I’ve been wrong in labelling Manager as "mean". I’m now thinking her problem is mental, a personality disorder because, on my way to the mail center this morning, I detoured through the Community Room, saw Home Girl and Red Light sitting, chatting.

Home Girl is in the process of moving to Sacramento, Red Light moved out in May, and must be lonely in her luxury unit, because she’s always here ……… but that's about to end because she tells me Manager today told her "I don’t want you here".

Red Light said her response was that she has friends here, is an invited guest. Whereupon, Manager turned to Activity Director, told her to not allow Red Light to participate in any of our activities — don’t let her paint, don’t let her play bingo and has posted a sign reminding us of the upcoming Costume Party, with a line we’re sure is directed at eliminating Red Light from participating in any way, shape, manner or form.

In addition, Manager told Red Light that if she does not voluntarily stop coming here, she is going to call Corporate to see if there’s some way she can ban Red Light from the property, guest of a resident notwithstanding.

Boys and girls, can we say personality disorder with a side of petty?

The reason Manager has given Red Light for wanting her to not come here is, "You’re a bully. You've tried to bully me".

Talk about the pot calling the kettle.

It has been said, "We see others as we are" ……… Manager is projecting.

From our standpoint, Manager is the bully — what with her disrespecting her elders by yelling at them (the residents), denying us privileges to our own Community Room kitchen, will only authorize upkeep if we "write a check" for cost before the work is done, so on and so forth.

Evidently, Manager’s personality disorder of projecting, with a side of petty, has blinded her to the reason we see for her wanting Red Light to disappear from existence …… revenge because Red Light has stood up to her in the past, even called Corporate and made complaints about Manager’s behavior toward residents.

Complaints that went nowhere, other than to piss Manager off, which started the war between she and Red Light.

In addition to Manager’s projecting, with a side of petty, it looks like paranoia can be added to her brain soup, because Home Girl tells me Manager accused her of influencing others to move.

Manager has put together that when Home Girl turned in her notice to vacate, our Boebert character put in her notice shortly thereafter, and that had something to do with Home Girl.

"How?" asked Home Girl of Manager — "I’m moving to Sacramento for health reasons, she’s moving to Hesperia because she can no longer handle the smell of cigarette smoke seeping into her unit".

I’ve worked for and with people who could easily be classified as functionally insane so, putting together everything else Manager has done, adding in these latest revelations, I’d say we here at the complex are in deep do do ………… being managed by a woman who is not mentally/emotionally well.

The monthly calendar indicates "Community Meeting, Friday, October 18, 11 am – 12 pm".

As boring as that last meeting was, I’m actually interested in attending because of these latest revelations ……… anxious to see what happens next.

Thing is, I’m leaving Thursday morning on an adventure with granddaughter, grandson in law and the great grand babies, staying overnight, returning Friday, but maybe not in time to attend the community meeting.

I’ll aim for getting back in time, but it depends on how early we head back and/or if they want to extend the overnight stay for an additional night.

My guess is the meeting will be all about HER ……… how we’re the ones being mean to HER, talking bad about HER, and her making up some fictional new rule that once a resident moves out, they are not to return to the property.

And that's the tea on this the 15th Day of Halloween.

The Collection

My ballot arrived on Friday. First item on my to-do list Saturday morning, was to mail in my completed ballot. Only, I didn’t trust the postal service; instead, drove to the University, dropped it off in the Official Ballot Drop-off box.

From there, I drove to Sprouts, picked up specialty gluten-free items not available in this area, after which I drove back to the complex, and the fun began.

Not to get ahead of myself, count my chickens before they hatch, but hoping that by placing my ballot in the drop off location, I’d single handedly voted 45 off the island, I began thinking I’d better dig my champagne glass out of storage.

Problem with that was the glass was buried in one of the many containers stored in the patio storage area, behind cosplay costumes, holiday decorations, et al.

Nothing else to do but what I’d been wanting to do for some time — move everything out of the way, dig out those containers, begin the laborious task of going through every item, in every container, to see what exactly I’ve been holding onto for so many years.

It was an all-day task, wore my poor body out, but a rewarding process because, in the end, I’d not only found my champagne glass ……

…… I also found memorabilia I’d forgotten I had — like old costume tutus, that I dumped in the trash; miscellaneous costume accessories, also trashed.

I outgrew this old Brooks & Dunn poster a long time ago, was going to trash it, but decided to put back in storage, as I wasn’t yet ready to let go of.

It actually isn’t a poster, but a cereal box cover I’d framed and displayed until putting into a storage container, during one of my moves, then forgot all about.

Same with these old license plates from my heyday …… eons ago, when I was feeling myself as a Brown Babe. I’d forgotten they were in storage, set them aside to toss, then decided to put back in storage for a while.

This Billikin was a gift from a coworker back in ‘98.

The Billikin is a little creature, carved from whale teeth and walrus tusks, adopted by the Eskimos as a symbol of good luck and happiness.

"As a blues chaser, I'm a honey — To bring good luck, just rub my tummy".

I can always use more good chi, so I put the Billikin back in circulation on a shelf.

Rocks from the Mediterranean Sea were also a gift from a coworker who travelled to Spain. Put those back in circulation as well.

Back in the day, Blessing Bottles — that I purchased at a craft fair, were what I’d gift on special occasions. Darn if I didn’t come across two Happy Birthday bottles, a Happy Boss Day bottle, and a Peace and Simplicity bottle.

I won’t be needing to bless any bosses again, thought I, so I tossed that one.

I would have liked to have given the birthday blessing bottle to someone with an upcoming birthday, but the cork on one was broken, and the tags on both were old and stained from age, as was the tag on the boss bottle.

The tag on Peace and Simplicity has also seen better days, but I don't mind the aged tag, live for Peace and Simplicity, so I put that bottle back in circulation, on a shelf along with Billikin and the rocks.

Peace and Serenity Ingredients

Then I unwrapped an item that turned out to be a Starbucks mug, then another and another and another, so on and so forth — fourteen mugs in total that I have no space for in the kitchen.

Besides, I already have two Starbucks mugs and four special occasion mugs on the kitchen shelf, that I tradeoff drinking from, so I set the mugs aside to drop off at Goodwill.

I didn't even know I had that cool Halloween Mug on the left.

At any rate, after putting the collection of mugs in a box to donate to Goodwill, I pulled them out — decided to keep a while longer. However, not wanting to clog up the patio storage area again, I moved some things around on a bookshelf and squeezed in a home for the mugs.

After reading Dawn the Bohemian's post this morning, about how Goodwill overprices and employees manhandle donated merchandise, I was glad I’d decided to keep the mugs for the time being.

All in all, I cleared out seven containers — stuff my family will not have to deal with when I pass away.

I set the empty containers out by the dumpster for the taking (they disappeared almost as quickly as I dropped them off).

Very little went back into the patio storage area — only a few costumes I might yet wear again, the Brooks and Dunn cereal box poster and the license plates.

Also, out of storage and shelved are little China teacups from Tea Rooms Twin 2 had taken me to celebrate past Mother’s Days.

A little box from Africa, gifted to me by one of the attorneys from a law firm I worked for in the mid to late ’70s.

Opened

Closed

Miniature cowboy boots and a Hispanic Cowboy I picked up years ago.

My little country/western tape dispenser, that's been missing for years. Thought had been lost in a move.

And lastly, his and her mugs from the famous Warehouse Restaurant, where I was wined, dined and tricked into a relationship by that married man who passed himself off as single.

As for why I’d find those in storage, put them in circulation in the kitchen cupboard, rather than smash to pieces, toss in the trash — though I still feel duped and used by that guy, would like an apology before he leaves this parenthesis in eternity — if he hasn’t already died, I'm not bitter. I still have some fond memories of my time with him, don’t mind the mugs as a reminder I should not have been so trusting.

All in all, a productive weekend.

Tit for Tat

Today, the 11th of Halloween, was a bingo day.

Not my favorite of days, as I struggle to recall how I got roped into this bingo gig in the first place.

I’m certain I didn’t volunteer but, for the life of me, can’t remember if I was asked by the Baker or my old friend Apache to take on what I’ve taken on.

I’m trying hard to accept it in stride, realize it’s only every other Friday, that taking photos, managing the Resident’s FB page, is what the Universe has given me to do, because I can, and because we are to make ourselves useful in life. Not just sit around and be a world unto ourselves, which is what I personally would like to do.

At any rate, bingo went off without a hitch this time — no strange guy coming in, acting like we were invisible, he was alone in his own living room, could do as he pleased.

I won Game 3 and chose from the prize table, something I needed but would not have purchased for myself (because I’m not fancy and have been getting by with a kitchen towel) a cute little potholder.

The room was packed, and there appeared to be no tea spilled, as all were thoroughly involved in the games.

We took a break after Game 5 and had snacks this time — the Baker made cupcakes, which were set up on the counter, but we were careful not to step foot into Manager’s precious f _ _ king kitchen.

She was in her office and probably watching us on camera to make sure we didn’t.

I don’t know if it was happenstance or whether Head Maintenance Guy (formerly Assistant Maintenance Guy) was sent in by Manager to make sure we were not in the kitchen because, just as residents lined up for cupcakes, HMG walked into the room, into the kitchen, stood behind the counter.

That’s him (top corner left photo) seemingly standing guard behind the cupcakes, or simply waiting to be offered one.

Did Manager send him to make sure we did not cross the threshold, did he come because he wanted a cupcake? Who knows.

In the good old days, whenever we had goodies — cakes, cookies, pies, even full meals when we were allowed to use the refrigerator/stove/microwave, etc., we shared with office staff just because.

Not this time.

We like HMG, offered him a cupcake, which he happily accepted and off he went.

Ordinarily, we’d have given him cupcakes to take back to Manager and whoever else was in the office at the time. Instead, we decided no cupcake for Manager.

Tit for tat.

If she wanted one, she’d have to pay for it.

Just in case she was eavesdropping on us — as she sometimes does when watching us on video, we didn’t refer to Manager by name when we were laughing and giggling about her having to pay if she wanted one. We referred to her as, "That mean woman in the office".

If indeed she was eavesdropping and the shoe fits, oh well.

Tea for the Tenth of Halloween

Driving out of the complex yesterday, heading for that morning’s workout, I spotted Compton standing out front of the complex, talking with the smoking crew.

That’s bold, thought I, inasmuch as he’s supposed to be hiding …… management not to know he’s still living here in defiance of Manager’s edict to Ms. Neighbor, “I want your son out of here”.

Hmmmmm? Next time I run into Ms. Neighbor, I’ll have to ask how goes her war with Manager …… Is she still thinking of moving out.

I became aware of another at war with Manager when, later in the afternoon, Next Door Neighbor knocked on my door.

She’d met with Manager, asked that blinds in her bedroom be replaced; whereupon, Manager had replied, "I'll have the guys look around, see if they can find some old blinds lying about, but if you want new blinds, you'll have to pay for them".

NDN said she was dumbfounded.

I wasn’t. Manager has made it clear she's not spending a dime on upkeep from now on.

Can we say slumlord, boys and girls.

NDN said she'd replied, "I’ve lived here for 10 years. You raised my rent $500 last time, and you want me to pay for blinds that need replacing? I’m not paying for anything."

Whatever else was said caused NDN to, in her words, "I got up, Told the women (Manager and Assistant Manager), You ladies have a blessed day and a blessed life", then sashayed away.

You might be thinking that was big of NDN to leave them with a blessing, but that was not NDN's intent. She realized she was rising to the bait, decided not to stoop to their level, to instead outclass them, the theory being that to fight evil with good would be like reaping burning coals on their heads — something good will happen for her, something bad will happen to them.

At any rate, saying she is fed up, NDN is now thinking, as is Ms. Neighbor, of going the flight route, same as did Red Light and Boebert, who both moved into brand new Section 8 housing with luxury units, washers/dryers inside the units, and probably nice new not rotting away blinds.

When telling NDN how I’d searched the lease, could not find where we have to pay for upkeep, she informed me she, just last year, was given a second lease to sign, which second lease she thinks only applies to Section 8 and may include the wordings Manager’s been using to justify her position of residents footing the bill for upkeep.

That’s interesting. Means Manager was lying when she said, "We're not doing leases any longer", but I still doubt the lease has that specific wording about who is responsible for repairs/upkeep inside the units. More likely, a blurb that Manager is interpreting to suit her purpose to save money …… but for whom …… Where’s the money going? And I now have a question for the next Community Meeting …… if residents pay for lightbulbs, blinds and whatever else is replaced in the unit, do they get to take what they've paid for with them when they leave?

It may be time for an independent auditing firm to come in.

That’s what happened when that mean Nurse Ratched was in charge — auditors came in, found she’d been embezzling.

Her boss at Corporate (that we suspected she was sleeping with because he always took her side, protected her, never moved on complaints) arrived on the premises, walked into her office, boxed up her belongings, escorted her out of the office into the waiting arms of police.

I'm guessing he finally took action because his own job was then on the line because of her.

I don’t think Nurse Ratched ever did any time — restitution maybe, because the scandal would have been an embarrassment for Corporate, but at least she was outta here, and things were golden, until this current Manager came on the scene and began turning the complex into an episode of American Horror Story.

Nothing lasts forever, and no one gets away with their shiz forever, so this too shall pass.

Backing up a bit to the power outage …… None of the businesses in the strip mall took a hit during the outage because Trainer spent the night in his studio, kept an eye out for Liquor Store owner’s business (no need for both to sleep over), with his bulldog for extra security.

He left his car parked out front, so criminals would know someone was in the studio, as did the owner of the little market at the far end …… spent the night, left the truck parked out front to warn criminals "don't even think about it".

I’ve not bothered to check it out for myself, but Trainer tells me that the Zumba studio in the strip mall on the other corner had its windows broken out, is all boarded up now.

I can’t image what anyone would be looking for inside that business, as it’s a Nutrition Bar — juices, smoothies, coffee, tea, vitamins, supplements, with a side of Zumba on Fridays.

Walking into the studio yesterday, I saw Trainer had acquired a new toy — a body opponent bag.

Some guy drove up, told Trainer, he was getting rid of the bag, asked if Trainer wanted it.

Trainer went out to the truck, took a look, asked how much (they generally sell for $600 new), but the guy said, "Honestly, I don’t have room for it. I just want to get rid of it" and gave it to Trainer for free.

I know what you’re thinking, Trainer himself toyed with the idea he was being set up, but took a chance the guy is legit, accepted the gift.

That’s what I’ve done with equipment, sometimes expensive equipment, I no longer need or have run out of space for in the past (a bicycle, skates, a treadmill, vintage Schwinn Airdyne stationary bike, boxing bag, etc., and I'm currently in the process of asking around if anyone wants to take the new climber off my hands).

At any rate, I had to have a little fun with Trainer’s anatomically incorrect opponent man.

Hopefully, there’s not a real body hidden inside.

Ninth of Halloween

Whatdayathink about my newest pumpkin?

Remind you of anyone in particular?

Maybe a close up, showing a forked tongue will give you a better idea of who pumpkin head might look like.

Forked tongue not just because pumpkinhead is a liar, speaks out of both sides of his mouth, but because pumpkinhead is surely a disciple of Lucifer, Satan possessed, and I picture those disciples being signified by forked tongues.

The finished pumpkin is not as gruesome as I would have liked, but pumpkinhead's usual everyday countenance is gruesome enough.

Twenty six days until I can hopefully breathe again, toss pumpkinhead into the trash, bust out a bottle of champagne.

Fifth of Halloween Outage

Today got off to a rough start.

The maintenance power outage that was postponed a few weeks ago, because of all the fires in the area and triple digit heat, was rescheduled for 9:00 pm last night.

We’re once again experiencing triple digit heat, the line fire is amazingly only 79% contained — still not the opportune time for a power outage, but I figured it would be cooler at night, I could manage without a fan or A/C until power was restored at 4 am this morning.

Except ………… when I awoke up at 6 am, power had not been restored; and, as the weather began edging to the estimated 102° predicted for today, the heat in my unit became unbearable, as the power company extended the end first to 5 am (it was already 6, so obviously that estimate had passed), then to 8 am, then 9 am, then 10.

By that time, I couldn't breathe, felt faint and worse of all, the makeup was melting from my face, so I evacuated the premises.

Outside was a lot more manageable than inside. So, I sat in the car, got a nice cross breeze by opening the windows, and there I meditated and then watched a few more episodes of Bridgerton on the cell phone.

The next alert indicated power would be restored at 12 noon.

Of course, I didn’t believe it, continued living in the car until, at 12:08, I received the power restored alert.

Those few hours I was inconvenienced gave me a deeper understanding of what people who have lost power for weeks/months, due to varying disasters, go through.

It wasn’t fun.

Can’t have been too much fun for Trainer and Liquor Store Owner either because, when the power went out at 9 pm last night, the area was in total darkness. I mean pitch black. No lights, no electronics working ……… that included security cameras.

The guys figured the lack of security cameras and total darkness would be an opportune time for the bad guys to return for another break-in, so they slept in their businesses.

I’ll find out, at Monday’s workout, how they enjoyed sleeping over, and how disruptive it was that the 4 am restoration time was not met.

On another note, my bloody Halloween workout tee arrived.

No sleeves, and the stretchy cotton/polyester blend is perfect for this weather.