And Now This

Long time readers might recall the story of how it was, back in 2017, when I had that weird encounter with the neighbor living in the unit beneath mine.

When the former neighbor of that unit was taken to a care facility, the woman who now occupies the unit (known in the blog as Illusive Unfriendly and sometimes referred to as Creepy Girl downstairs) moved in quick, fast, overnight.

So quick, fast and stealth that it was days before I realized someone was living in the unit, then it was days, maybe even weeks before I actually saw her.

Returning from the market, I one day saw a woman sweeping up leaves in front of that unit, made the assumption it was she, took the opportunity to say hello, welcome her to the quad.

The encounter went like this ………

"Hi, are you the new neighbor?"

"Yes" she replied without looking up to make eye contact.

"I’m your upstairs neighbor, my name is Shirley".

Still looking away, she began laughing.

Puzzled, I just stood there for a moment, not knowing what to say.

"A lot of Shirley’s" says she seemingly to herself.

"Oh. Have you met other residents named Shirley?"

"No. I just know a lot of Shirleys".

"You won’t have a hard time remembering my name then."

Silence, still evasive – turned away, avoiding eye contact.

She hadn’t given me her name, so I asked, "What’s your name?"

If she said, I didn't hear her it, so I just left it at "Well, welcome."

Silence.

My instincts were telling me to run, but instead, I pushed on, "Have you met any of the other neighbors in this building?"

"I don’t socialize. I don’t even go to the Day Room (meaning the Community Room). I don’t like to be around people."

"We’re pretty nice here."

Whereupon, she finally turned in my direction, looked me dead in my eyes and cold as ice punched out, "I … DON'T … LIKE … PEOPLE! … I'LL … SPEAK … BUT … THAT'S … IT!!"

A little frightened by the dark energy she was displaying, I said "Okay then", and fled up the stairs.

It irked me to no end that after chasing me away with "I DON’T LIKE PEOPLE" it became obvious her dislike of people did not include male residents. I concluded she didn’t like people who had innies, just liked those with outies …… if you know what I mean.

But if that’s how she wanted it, so be it.

I’ve stayed out of her way since, and because she came across as cra cra, I’d pass her on the walkway, tell myself she doesn’t exist and was able to walk by her stone faced, my eyes dead, as though she really wasn’t there.

And so it went for four years until she resurfaced in 2021, showed just how cra cra she was by complaining to the office, on more than one occasion, that I was disturbing her peace by bouncing a ball 3:30 A.M.

Trust me …… the only thing I’m doing at that hour is sleeping, and the ball she accused me of bouncing in actuality was someone doing laundry at that ungodly hour, churning sounds coming from the machines.

Her bedroom is right next to the Laundry Room and she couldn’t tell the difference between noise coming from right next to her, attributing it instead to my bouncing a ball upstairs?

I was beginning to take it personal, thinking she was having an issue with me in particular. Perhaps upset because instead of trying to win her over, play nice, I’d ignored her for so long. I also told Next Door Neighbor perhaps her issue with me was jealousy because "she’s young and ugly, I’m old and pretty".

Why I referred to her as "young" will become clear as you read on, and though she has no problem attracting the outies, I think she'd unattractive.

At any rate, that was that until this Saturday when I went to the Laundry Room, walked in, saw her (Illusive Unfriendly/Creepy Girl) folding clothes on a corner table.

I think I might have instinctively forgotten who I was talking to and said, "Hello".

I don’t recall if she said "Hello" back, but when I subsequently got back to acting as though she did not exist, went about my business of putting clothes in one of the washers, she suddenly spoke up. Said that machine wasn’t working, and went on to say how she’d tried and failed to get what money she’d put in the machine back.

Next thing I know, she’s talking to me like we’re old friends. Actually, spilled some tea about TinTin.

It was old tea having to do with that rumor of TinTin bringing bugs with her, saying her (Illusive Unfriendly/Creepy Girl) boyfriend on the property (Big Friendly Guy) had told her this, that, the other.

Old tea that she had probably been itching to tell someone, but at least she was being friendly.

Seeing an opening, I asked her name. This time she told me and added, "I know your name is Shirley".

Did she remember from years before when I told her my name, or has she and her boyfriend been talking about me and he stood up for me, told her I'm not a threat, too old for her to be jealous of? Who knows.

Whatever her issue ─ not liking me personally, not liking people with innies, and taking seven years to tell me her name, her issue has nothing to do with her being of old age as she was given some kind of special dispensation, was allowed to move in at not yet 50. She was in her 40’s and may still not yet meet the age requirement for this complex.

And now this …………

Every Other Friday

Today was that other Friday ………… Bingo Friday.

To explain why the afternoon went the way it did, let me start off by saying, I’m hanging on by a thread ……… my nerves on edge because I have a bad feeling about the outcome of this election, and I wasn’t looking forward to fulfilling my responsibility of participating in bingo, mingling with people, taking photos, updating the resident’s FB page.

So, that was my state of mind when, after the morning’s workout, I rushed back to the complex and, as I always do every other Friday, hurried into the Community Room to claim a seat at a table where I can easily take photos — set up bingo cards, placed a container of glass chips next to the cards, and left my water bottle to indicate the spot was taken.

Then I rushed upstairs, changed out of workout clothes, grabbed my Witches Brew thermos, filled it with coffee, and made it back down to the Community Room about five minutes before the start of bingo.

Walking into the room, I see the place was crowded and two of the usual suspects were sitting at the table I’d set up, which was okay. I wasn’t taking ownership of the entire table, just that spot.

Problem is, the two had taken over the spot I’d prepared. Gone were the cards and the water bottle.

I pitched a fit ……… "Where’s my stuff!? ……… What's happened to my spot!?"

Turned out the two had walked in, and instead of adding themselves to the table with the prepared spot, decided to take the table over so they could sit together, just the two of them.

Giving them the benefit of doubt, one can say the two don’t have common sense — not seeing a body occupying the space, it just did not compute to them that the water bottle, et al, meant someone was sitting there. They asked the organizers to take it away and evidently the organizers can’t put two and two together either, as they did as requested, took it all away.

On the other hand, it just might be the two old biddies thought they could just do what they wanted to do, and whoever had planned to sit there would just quietly let it be.

Like I said, I’m on edge, now is not the time to push me.

When I walked right up and confronted the two of them, they realized I was royally pissed, began grabbing their stuff to get up and move, but I said "Never mind. I’ll find somewhere else to sit".

I ended up joining Di at a table in the back corner, which meant I had to get up and walk further to take photos of players as they won.

It took me a while to get back to center, and call it Karma when neither of the two won a game — and one of the two is usually lucky, always wins at least the two game limit and then sometimes the Blackout game. She's just lucky but to my enjoyment, not this time.

On the other hand, I won — Game 7 and chose another oven mitt as my prize, this one came with a potholder.

Actually, I won two games — Game 7 and Game 9, but did not call bingo on Game 9 because there was nothing else on the prize table I wanted or needed.

I doubt I’ll be in a better frame of mind Friday after next, so there will be hell to pay if my setup is messed with yet again.

On the other hand, it might give me the excuse I need to get out of the bingo responsibility — turn around, walk out in a huff, refuse to participate again.

My luck, things will go smoothly next time.

You readers might recall Manager telling Red Light that she didn’t want her coming around here. Told Activity Director to not let Red Light participate in activities.

Well, Red Light is bold as brass defying Manager. She joined us for bingo today.

Manager has no control over who can and who cannot participate in activities the residents themselves have organized. The only way she can stop Red Light from participating in our activities is to threaten the organizers that she will no longer allow us to use the Community Room for bingo or anything else.

She’s petty enough to go that route if she can’t get Corporate’s permission to formally ban Red Light from the property.

Stay tuned.

Dropout

Yesterday was the 5k I so enjoyed challenging myself on year after year ─ Mission Inn Run/Walk.

According to last year’s stats (if they were correct, which I still doubt I did that well), I finished 49th out of 481 in the male and female all ages category and, breaking it down to just women all ages, I was reported as 39th out of 348.

Since then, there’s not been a lot of training, due to the endless heat and lack of motivation. So, knowing I was not in shape for that course, I did not register this year.

Trainer kept encouraging me, said he thought I could do it, but the words of Dirty Harry were ringing in my ears, with a slight modification ... "A woman’s got to know her limitations".

It’s Trainer’s job to encourage, instill confidence so, to prove to me I could do it, a week or so ago, he set the treadmill at a steep incline for four minutes.

I almost died.

When I left the studio that day, my left ankle and right hip felt out of kilter, and I'd only lasted 2 minutes out of the 4.

I always snap back pretty quick and did, after a good soak in Epsom salt and a day to rest before the next training session.

So that particular 5k was a definite no for this year.

Maybe next year.

In other news, I asked around about the Community Meeting and learned it had been cancelled.

Hmmmmm????

I’m having buyer’s remorse over these Mitts, purchased at Disneyland.

I don’t know what I was thinking, as they don’t go with my Minnie Mouse Halloween costume.

They're cute though, so I'll pass them on to the great grandbabies to play with or use as pillows.

These Nightmare Before Christmas ears also don't go with my costume, but I love the half Halloween half Christmas ears — a Disney gift from the kids, and maybe I can build a costume around them in the future.

They're reversable.

14,115 Steps and Missed Opportunity

Me at Disneyland, August 1980, with my girls (Twin 1 and Twin 2).

Twin 1 on the left, Twin 2 on the right would have been 12 years old at the time.

Me at Disneyland, October 17, 2024 with Twin 1's baby girl (my granddaughter), granddaughter's husband (GrandSIL), granddaughter's babies (the great grands to me), and a Great Granddaughter I never knew I had until recently (long story ……… progeny of a family member on a long prodigal journey through life, and the reason I put myself on Ancestry, so children of that prodigal granddaughter can find their people when they grow up and go looking).

With all the walking and picture taking (over 100 pics), I didn’t think to recreate the 1980 photo — arm around granddaughter as I did with her mom, until I was on the road headed home.

Missed Opportunity there.

Walking down Main Street, we caught the band marching in to perform.

I could have listened to the band forever, but GrandSIL wanted to head for Fantasyland, so the babies could see Small World.

Small World was my favorite as well back in the day, and I just so happened to have a photo of me, circa 1980, looking mesmerized by the singing dolls.

Small World is still a favorite, so I was looking forward to revisiting.

We made it to Fantasyland, but unfortunately found Small World to be closed/under repairs, so we let the great grandson burn off some energy in the Play Yard, where I heard the tent set up for the kids calling to me.

I convinced my new relative to camp out with me and though it wasn't easy to get down on the ground, crawl my big arse in, turn around to pose, I managed to do so, then crawled out and got out on my own. Call it the magic of CrossFit, three times a week for four years.

"That's not Goofy", I was informed by granddaughter when I said, "Oh look, there's Goofy".

"No grandma, that's his son Max".

"I didn't know Goofy had a son. Didn't know he was married", said I.

"He's a single dad", said she.

Who knew?

I loved Star Wars Land, where first great grandbaby girl somehow got in trouble with a Stormtrooper, and then I and my new relative saved the world by joining in the battle against the First Order in Rise of the Resistance ……… took positions as Engineers on the Millennium Falcon.

As the pilots careened through space, and the gunners fired, my job (and new relative's job) as Engineers was to ……… when the ship was hit and something was broken, fix what was broken.

We saved the world, and landed safely.

You're welcome.

But then there was a flurry of activity, Chewbacca the Wookie showed up, began running around and we heard it was because ……… now I don't know if it was the Pilots who messed up or the Engineers, but whoever it was, in one of the ships that followed, caused their ship to crash.

Oh well, we did our job.

After Chewbacca sorted out the responsible parties, he gathered men from the crowd to participate in a "Who can make the best Wookie sound".

GrandSIL was selected ……… probably because of his beard, and got robbed.

He clearly made the better sound, but the other guy had more family members rooting for him.

I call foul, but GrandSIL did later get a photo with Chewbacca, so that was a win.

The girls (granddaughter and new relative) were anxious to find a character they kept referring to as Tiana.

Do you know who that is? I didn't, but was informed Tiana is from the animated film The Princess and the Frog AND is Disney's First Black Princess.

Again ……… who knew?

Fortunately, we walked right up on her and she was uber gracious. Took time to address individually the baby, granddaughter and my new relative.

The girls were thrilled, and meeting the First Black Princess was so emotional for granddaughter that she cried after.

I gave her a hug and said, "If you get this emotional over Disney's First Black Princess, how are you going to handle the First Female President being Black?"

What we did after that was a blur of lunch, more walking, not being able to get into Dumbo because the lines were long, same when I wanted to ride one of the merry-go-round horses, so on and so forth ……… the waits were 45 minutes to an hour on everything. The only reason we made it onto the Millennium Falcon, was because we signed up as single riders and were matched with groups who'd been waiting in long lines and needed us to fill the crew.

So anyway, no amount of CrossFit could stop the bottom of my feet from aching from so much walking. So, a little after 4:00, I tapped out, headed for the hotel, checked in, relaxed, while the others did the park until dark.

Upon checking out this morning, we made sure to take photos at the Great Mickey Mouse Pumpkin.

And there you have my fun but exhausting adventure with the kids.

My step count was off the chart, but I survived to tell the tale.

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.