Pimp My Tee

I think it was last Friday when, while sitting on the couch, I spotted a patch of red through the patio window.

Made me think of a horror movie I saw where, much like here, the powers that be had removed that which was colorful from the community’s landscape … plus the color red specifically was so forbidden that a monster appeared and someone’s life would be ended over it.

It’s probably just a matter of time before our monster — management and/or the Edward Scissorhands Landscaper, finds a reason to remove the colorful tree.

THEN, as I got out of bed this morning, I spied patches of what looked like green grass peeking out through the rocks below.

They dug up the grass, put plastic sheeting in place, covered with rocks, and nature is still finding a way through.

I find that hilarious and can’t imagine what our monster can do about it.

Yesterday was a hard day due to a doctor’s appointment I didn’t ask for, the doctor’s office schedule the appointment with my primary for no good reason other than to piss me off and piss me off they did by sending me messages, a day or so before the appointment, under the guise of Personal Action Plan, wanting to know the main reason for the visit.

After ignoring the first two messages, only to receive a third, I responded "Hell if I know", because THEY scheduled the appointment and then had the nerves to bug me about the nature of the visit, though I knew the nature was just checking in … a cattle call that I didn’t want to participate in but had to if I wanted to continue getting blood pressure medication, which is about all the medical provider is good for.

Unnecessary cattle call it turned out to be, because all the doctor did was take my blood pressure, stethoscope my chest, send me down to the Lab for a blood test, all of which she usually just sends me a notice to get taken care of, no hassle no visit required.

But the thing was, this appointment, in addition to being a waste of my time, was scheduled for the primary's office at the main medical center, where parking is a nightmare.

In fact, I spent an estimated 25 or so minutes, along with a mass of other vehicles, trying to find parking, got so frustrated that myself said to myself, "Screw it", drove out of the medical center area, hit the streets and began driving back home, but saw a shopping center, pulled in, parked by an Aldi’s Grocery Store, walked down Sierra Blvd to Valley Blvd, down Valley Blvd to Medical Center Parkway, crossed the parking area to the doctor’s building, a 20-minute hike, arriving late of course and just waiting for the receptionist to say "you’re late" so I could explode.

Fortunately, scheduling was behind, no one said anything to set me off until the doctor’s nurse took my weight and blood pressure.

Weight could have been better, but was better than I expected, considering I’ve not exercised or dieted to make up for lack of exercise; but the parking situations and having to hike had so frustrated me that my BP was 178 over I forget.

The nurse said, "I’m going to have to refer you to the blood pressure clinic".

"NO!" I yelled, "IT’S BECAUSE I’M UPSET I SPENT 25 MINUTES LOOKING FOR PARKING, GOT SO FRUSTRATED THAT I HEADED HOME, ENDED UP PARKING BY ALDI'S, HAD TO WALK HERE AND PROBABLY WILL NEED TO CALL A CAB TO TAKE ME BACK TO MY CAR!"

I was expecting a call for "Security", but she instead wisely backed off with "okay" and had me wait another 15 minutes in the outside waiting area before calling me back into a room for the doctor, during which time I took the extra BP pill I carry with me for just in case situations, so I wouldn't have a stroke in the doctor's office or on the hike back to the jeep.

Having calmed down by the time the doctor arrived to prove the visit was indeed a waste of my time, I was down to 152/78, calm and back to my friendly self as the Lab later took blood. It helped that when the Lab's check-in person asked me to verify my birthdate, and said, "OMG You look Great" when she realized I was 82.

Done with the Lab, I hiked back to the jeep and, once back home, the memory of having wasted my time and that horrible parking experience behind me, clocked in at 105/48.

The plan for today was to do absolutely nothing. Just rest from yesterday, because yesterday took a lot out of me; but then Crafty Lady asked me to come down to the Community Room, where Kesha had them playing bingo, to pick up a t-shirt she’d made for me.

The resident’s 4th of July party is this Thursday the 2nd. Crafty Lady has made t-shirts for all the organizers, with logos she matched to our personalities, including one for me as the group’s photographer.

I didn’t dawdle in the Community Room … just took photos of the other personalized logos for the residents’ Facebook page, brought mine upstairs, tried it on.

Didn’t like it — it’s white, and white is not flattering to my body type … It adds pounds to my overall frame and inches to my ta tas, which need lessening rather than enhancing, plus I felt restrained in the tee, couldn’t breathe, so I decided to pimp it. The bougies call it Upcycling these days.

Whether pimp or upcycle, a lot can go wrong … I’ve had more failures than successes and was taking a big risk I’d mess up, not be able to wear the tee on Thursday, would have to admit to Crafty Lady and the others that I screwed it up.

A little scared, I went for it, starting with cutting the sleeves completely off.

from this

to this

That's more like it. Trying it on, the tee felt better already … looked like a muscle tee; but still needing that collar off my neck, I folded the tee in half, cut a little triangle out at the neck area.

to this

Pimped up nicely. However, as soon as I find my marking pen … which I had in my hand at one point in the process, and somehow magically disappeared, I’ll use the marker to mark where I can cut the V into a U.

In other t-shirt news, I've added two new ones to my collection.

Store Bought

Image clipped from internet,
ironed on with Transfer

I Knew It!

The painters removed the orange cones and no parking signs yesterday afternoon, so the jeep is back to its regular spot.

Hopefully this means the painting project is done and over with, but as I was yesterday doubting that and wondering what fresh new hell Management was planning for us, little Knock Knock was at my door.

That’s three days in a row she knocked just to give me a hug — which is kinda nice, but kinda not; and this time, when I asked where her grandma was, she said Talker was sitting with the girls on the benches by the laundry room, discussing notices of a $94 rent increase being attached to doors.

There it is, thought I, the fresh new hell I was wondering Management would come up with.

Said notice hasn’t made it to my door yet, but there’s no doubt it’s coming and I’m suspicious of the timing.

In the long long ago time, Management would at least throw us a party, begin posting rent increase notices while we were distracted at the party. This time, notices began just as the painters were completing the upgrade on the complex, like giving us a bill for services rendered.

We didn’t ask for the upgrade, we’d rather have had a party, but it looks like we’re paying for the paint job instead.

Oh well, nothing we can do but tighten the budget belt.

In other news, Her Royal Highness — the young Black girl helping out in the office during Assistant Manager’s pregnancy leave, that managed to get on my bad side by talking to me like I was a child that needed correcting, is no longer here. She quit … supposedly because she didn’t like the drive from her home in Pomona.

The drive from here to Pomona is only 39 minutess, 33 miles, so I’m not entirely sold on her leaving because of dissatisfaction with the drive.

Last few times I caught glimpses of her, her aura looked dimmed, she seemed not so full of herself as when first arriving.

Water reaches its own level so, with her original inflated sense of self, it probably deflated her that this is not a place where she can flex, no one here to impress or seem impressed by her, so she moved on.

Whatever the reason, her highness is gone, no loss to the community.

Talker’s 40-year-old may soon be getting his walking papers. I’d previously reported Talker saying he was at the "getting on her nerves" stage. Now, she says, "I’m getting tired of teaching".

A 40-year-old isn’t all that young, should be well versed in what it takes to keep a woman’s interest, knew very well the woman he was taking on is 72-years-old so I’m not so sure how he’s failing; but it’s looking like he’ll soon be history.

Today was a Namaste Bitches kind of day.

Heading out for gas and groceries, I spied the door to the Pain Cave wide open … an invitation for me to pop in, mess with Trainer, yell "Namaste Bitches" as I walked in the door.

His wife was in the studio, gave me a big hug, said she had not been aware that the Ms. Shirley she followed on TikTok was my daughter.

She and Trainer began talking about things … good things they’d seen, read about, etc., but things I’d rather not hear or speak about because it’s still too raw, sets off the waterworks. So, I turned the conversation onto the fighters and why was the door wide open.

Trainer said he doesn’t want to change locations, but needs to upgrade the studio, so he and wife were there to figure out how to do that, make the studio less cluttered, more bougie.

Wife said she got on his case about my leaving because he kept moving me around, not paying attention to my warnings about it.

I said I was okay with it until that last move had me in a tight corner by the bathroom, that nobody puts baby in a corner.

She said she’ll try to work out a proper space for Personal Training in the new plan. I told Trainer to send me a picture when they work it out, and we’ll talk.

So, we’ll see about my returning to the Pain Cave.

My body would thank me but, with the high cost of groceries, the rent increase, and with the 15 years of distribution on my other sources of income rapidly coming to an end, I’m not so sure I can fit it in the budget.

We’ll see.

Here's Your Sign

The no parking signs appeared yesterday afternoon.

I moved the jeep to Painted Rock Lady’s carport and went on with my life.

Heading down to the Community Room this morning, to take photos of today’s craft session for the residents’ facebook page, I saw the painters power washing the carport area, with one car still parked.

Some days are better than others, and I was struggling this morning. So, thinking that car belonged to the neighbor that moved into the upstairs across the quad cursed unit, I had the urge to backtrack, walk up the stairs, alert him to move his car, but my body wasn’t up to it.

I kept going, arrived in the Community Room to find the craft today was Ceramic Tile Art.

I usually just watch the girls work, take photos, because I don’t want a collection of self-made arts and crafts thingies cluttering up my unit. However, tile art looked like something I could actually utilize … in the kitchen as a spoon et. al. holder, even though the tile is not curved for a spoon, so I joined in.

Looking at the blank tile, what came to mind was a southwest desert theme.

While some of the ladies used stencils, I freehanded and created a scene that I like; except, instead of cacti in the desert, I’m seeing more like wooden tombstones in the desert, a cemetery.

Oh well, cacti or wooden tombstones, I’m going to modge podge it and soldier on.

Here’s a pic of what we all created.

Di was in attendance and, when I asked if Kesha had helped her get her utilities turned back on, she gave me an are you serious look, said Kesha is only good for distributing potato chips (she’s not wrong), and that she herself had managed to figure it all out, paid the $1400 arrears from her savings.

Thinking if she had savings, that she must have a bank account, I suggested it might be a good idea to set up automatic payments.

She didn’t seem too keen on that, used the excuse "I don’t have a phone".

"Why don't you have a phone", asked I because people come in here and give free phones to residents …… actual free cellphones to those of extremely limited income.

"I have a phone, but it doesn't work", she countered

Truth be known, she doesn’t need a phone because, just like she went where she went, paid the $1400, she could go there, or to the bank, and set up automatic payments in person; but I didn’t pin her into a corner by saying that. I dropped suggesting anything further to prevent future problems, said no more about it, because she obviously didn't want to hear it. But I’m beginning to think the girls were right when they said, "She creates her own problems".

After the craft session, heading back to my unit, I saw the painters were hard at work on the carport, with that lone care still parked, and they’d not bothered to at least cover it.

Having had coffee and conversation with the girls, my body was now amenable to knocking on neighbor in the curse unit’s door, alerting him.

Turns out it wasn’t his car … he’d moved his car the night before, like I did and said it was probably the car belonging to the downstairs neighbor, next to where Red Light used to live.

I knocked on her door …… it was hers; she quick fast flew out of her unit to the carport, moved it.

My good deed done for the day, I ran an errand to pick up water, modge podge, dirt for the skeleton planter, and a replacement adapter for my Beats Flex Wireless Earphones, cause I somehow returned from the stay in Hollywood without the adapter.

Target is going through a massive store remodeling …… currently no gardening section for dirt, no modge podge.

I walked out with the adapter and three impulse purchases …… a pair of summer shorts and two wicker baskets.

Did not remember the water until I was halfway back home.

I hate when that happens.

Finishing Touches

Painters were here this morning putting finishing touches on my building … the last building to be painted then, after the carport where I park is done, they're gone.

The front door was finished today, which meant I could put the doormat back in place.

Repainting the patio railing was also finished, which means I can put the patio furnishings back in place, but not until the replacement fake grass patio carpet arrives … the sun/wind/rain chewed up the old one and spit it out.

Also on order is a plant that, once planted in the skeleton planter I purchased last year, will survive in the heat of the sun/wind/rain and is also good feng shui — a metal Audrey Venus Flytrap Sculpture.

I didn’t even know there was such a thing as a metal plant until, some time ago, the internet got all up in my business and offered it. Of course, I had to check the chi and learned "Metal feng shui is excellent for your patio because it brings structure, mental clarity, and calming energy to counteract the chaotic, unpredictable nature of the outdoors".

Maybe Audrey will take care of those awful looking lizards, that I'm currently having to chase off the patio with a mixture of water and hot sauce, as I read they don't like spicy stuff.

The internet is also still needlessly trying to tempt me in Shirley Tees with a twist … Shirley's Partner tees.

They're funny though.

Still nothing indicating when those of us in the remaining carport to be painted will have to move our cars, but I no longer have to head out mornings and evenings to check for the no parking sign, because Painted Rock Lady can see that carport from her unit, said she’ll call me when the signs go up and even offered her carport parking spot on the opposite side for when I have to move the jeep.

Of course I accepted, so I don’t have to spend money on a hotel stay … I’ll save it for the next paving job when everyone and their uncle has to move their cars, rather than the dozen or so now being affected, but asked, "Why are you paying for a carport spot when you don’t have a car?"

"Well, I tell the office I need it for my visiting caregiver; but actually it’s for my boyfriend", said she.

Boyfriend!?, thought I. LOL. These old ladies be getting it on.

Over the weekend, I got an update on Di’s situation …… I don’t know the details as to how it came about, but Di's utilities have been restored.

School must be out because, I’ve been seeing Crafty Lady’s two grandsons playing on the grassy lawn and, on Friday, there was a knock knock knock on the door.

Yep! Little Knock Knock is back and quickly growing out of the "little" moniker.

On Sunday, I ventured out of the area to return two of the three items I'd purchased two weeks ago at the Mall, before the return period expired and saw a Baby on Board sign that made me laugh out loud.

I also spotted two Nat C Truck parked side by side in the lot, one on which a bird had left a symbol of just what it thought of the vehicle.

Stuck in Neutral

Several things are going on, related to the painting job being done on the complex; one of which necessitates I get out of dodge for an extended period of time, because I’ll have no place to park the jeep for however many days.

Back in ’23, there was the great paving project that uprooted my parking spot for an entire week. To avoid the chaos/trauma others were experiencing in finding places to park, I booked the jeep into a car park that would only allow parking by the month @ $360.50.

Though fairly nearby, the trek back/forth wasn’t fun because the area was sketchy, inside the facility didn’t feel safe for a woman alone to be wandering around in, but I managed.

Though convenient, I really don’t want to car park again. I thought instead I’d visit Twin 2 in Murietta. However, Twin 2 tells me she not only had not gotten the guest room set up (no mattress), she hasn’t even unpacked from the move.

So that visit not working out, not wanting to book the car park, not wanting to face that harrowing drive back to the Long Beach area, book a hotel to visit the great grands for a week, I decided on a Residence Inn a few cities over, that I know to be attached to a shopping center, which will make it easier to care for my weak stomach as there’s a kitchen, cooking appliances, a refrigerator — it’s like home away from home, but with a gym and safe areas to walk.

I just returned from that road trip to Hollywood, will soon have to hit the road yet again, but I’m stuck in neutral — my now vintage Diane Von Furstenberg suitcase, that I purchased back in the 70’s when it was affordable, still out of storage ready to repack, but I can’t book the hotel until the signs go up detailing what days are involved in no parking.

I know it’s soon because notices were posted to our doors just yesterday, indicating painters were ahead of schedule, would start today on my building. In fact, the building is being power washed as we speak. However, insofar as parking, no such notices have been forthcoming.

From what I’ve seen in other areas, no parking signs just mysteriously appear; but logic tells me that if they’re starting on my building today, the parking area will be next and soon. However, without proper notification, I’m stuck in neutral … constantly having to check morning and night to see if the no parking signs have been posted, so I can make hotel reservations.

Of course this stay is going to cost more than $360, so any thoughts of helping Di out with her situation are off the table, as I’ll need to apply those $$$ to my stayaway.

I haven’t seen any of the Usual Suspects since I returned from Hollywood, probably won’t see anyone until next week, so news on Di and whether Kesha has been able to assist is not yet known by me.

Speaking of Hollywood … this was the photo I took of two dolls' star the day before Pride.

This is the photo, I saw posted to the internet, the very next day .... after the Pride Parade.

LA Pride, Part 2

How it started.

Our Driver Sheri from Auto Museum

Great Granddaughter, Granddaughter, Moi

Reps from Thrive Cosmetics

How it ended.

Our Other Driver

Driving slow, plus the heat of the sun, caused the celebrity car to overheat/breakdown about a half mile from the parade's end.

Inasmuch as it was the Legacy's car, our driver was incredibly embarrassed; but we said, no problem and were prepared to walk the rest of the way, until the Golf Cart came to the rescue for Granddaughter and I, while others stepped up to walk with the signage that had been on the car.

Other than that little snag, the parade, the various news interviews, people from cosmetic brands that had partnered with Twin 1's organization, various board members coming up to say wonderful things about Twin 1 was a lot, and all this was before we even got to the moment with Channel 7, by which time I was a bit of a mess … said I couldn’t speak, that Twin 1’s passing a month ago was still too raw.

For the record, Twin 1 actually passed away in January but, with all the hoopla causing it to be fresh in my mind, it was beginning to feel like it was yesterday.

So, anyway, the parade itself was the largest/longest-running parade I’ve ever seen, overwhelming actually.

So overwhelming that, even though I was given a VIP Pass to Pride Village, I passed, instead chose to be Golf Carted back to the area of the hotel, while the others soldiered on to the Pride Village event.

Being in the actual parade did not allow for an opportunity to capture much of the miles and miles and miles of what there was to see; but I did manage to capture Jesus.

And this lively group.

Upon arriving in Hollywood, I made a point of seeking out the asshole's star.

Surprisingly, this ancient, radiation-feeding megafauna also has his own star; but I bet nobody even thought of damaging, tearing up or spitting on his star.