Friday the 13th of Christmas

Second Friday the 13th we’ve had this year — first being in September, but it’s all good because today is a no bingo Friday.

Next week's Bingo Friday is not actually bingo. Instead, it's the Christmas Party we throw for ourselves — three days after the Christmas Party management has scheduled for us.

No contest … the one we throw for ourselves is bound to be better.

The Baker is planning a Mexican Food menu and all kinds of games.

Of course, she’s not taking it all on by herself — one of her daughters, who runs a catering business, will be helping; as will Talker and Red Light (who no longer even lives here) be assisting. Others have donated sufficient monies to cover the cost.

Going to piss Manager off that 1) Our party will be better than the party she doesn't even want to do for us and 2) Red Light is involved in the party that will be besting her.

One of the games the Baker is planning has something to do with Grinch characters she had me print out and cut into 2-inch squares.

Hmmmm? Can’t wait to see what that’s about.

Among the many other games she told me she's planning is the White Elephant Gift Exchange — where attendee, one by one, choose a wrapped gift from the table, opens it; and the next person has the option to pick a gift from the table, or "steal" what another person has already unwrapped.

The reaction to the money box I put together for last year’s Gift Exchange, was a hoot.

The guy's wife stole it from him, then Di (who always needs money) stole the cash from the wife. However, wife was smart. Instead of selecting another gift from the table, she stole the money back and, since a gift can only be "stolen" a limit of three times, wife ended up with the $20.

So much fun to watch that I'm again going with a money box as my White Elephant Gift for the table.

Last year’s money box was a social experiment in that I wanted to see how many would base their choice of which gift to take from the table based on how pretty the outside package was (much like the choices we make in life, based on appearances, only to later learn that what we chose is not all that great inside). So, I last year wrapped a small box in plain butcher paper with Christmasy ribbon.

Positioned amongst the fancy wraps, the plain unassuming gift was overlooked again and again and again, as residents went for big and fancy looking — thinking they held a treasure (when some of those fancy gifts were no more than water bottles and food storage containers).

Plain and simple, which held the actual treasure …… cash, ended up being the next to the last gift on the table to be picked.

I’m sure the folks that needed money were sorry they didn’t choose it.

To see if lessons had been learned to not judge by a plain/simple appearance, I again put together a small money box, wrapped it in butcher paper with Christmasy ribbon.

The extra gift last year was a Christmas coffee mug. This year it's a 2nd money box …… except this box is a little larger to extend the social experiment to whether size will be a factor in choices, i.e., which will go first, the little one or the big one?

In other words, I'm turning my fellow residents into test subjects, lab rats, just to study their habits in their natural habitat.

The small box contains $30, the larger box $20.

I’m taking that Friday off from working out, so I can get to the Community Room early, take photos as the festivities begin.

I also want to get there early enough to sneak my gifts on the table — just in case someone figured out I was the one that brought the money box to last year’s Party and would be watching for a repeat.

I’m actually adding another extra gift …… a purchase I wanted to return.

I wrapped this extra gift in Christmas paper, just because. However, I'm now wondering if I should give it a do-over, wrap it the same as the money boxes, so folks won't equate butcher paper with always being a money box.

Shall I?

I don't know what I was thinking when I ordered yet another gingerbread kit but, having decided I don't want to put this kit together, I filled out the online return paperwork and was planning to take the return paperwork and purchase back to the store. However, the rather quick online reply (automated? a bot?) was that "Your refund is on the way …… Feel free to use, donate or dispose of any unwanted items – no need to return them to the store".

Nice, I get a refund, but who does that …… returns payment but doesn't want the purchase back?

Pondering what to do with it, a lightbulb went off that it would be another extra gift for the table.

I have a sense no one around here is going to want to deal with a gingerbread kit, but at least it's off my hands.

Maybe they can regift it to a young family member that's into Starwars.

Chocolate-dipped Corn Cob

A few days ago, Mitchell — over at Moving With, posted that while walking around his neighborhood, he ran across a churros kiosk that was selling Chocolate-dipped corn cob / Mazorca de maíz bañada en chocolate.

"Whoever heard of such a thing?" Mitchell queried.

I myself had never heard of it, but it sounded pretty tasty to me, so I gave it a try.

After salting the boiled cob, I spread melted chocolate on it and, as I’d expected, the taste was a delicious combination of salty and sweet.

Not something I’d make a habit of concocting. Melting and spreading chocolate was messy work.

In other news, the Elf is back.

At the market this past Saturday, I looked and looked and looked, but had no success in finding the Elf.

I overheard a conversation between a father and his little son …… "We didn’t give up and we found it". So rightly assuming they were talking about the Elf, I asked "Where?"

The father pointed over towards the Deli/Bakery side of the market, said "Over there, sipping a coke. They hid it pretty well. We looked for a long time".

Wanting to get a photo of Holly the Elf enjoying a coke, I walked over to that area, looked and looked and looked and looked. Never found the Elf that day.

I popped into the market after this morning’s workout, and found Holly pretty quick.

Fish Story

Yesterday was Bingo Friday with the usual suspects.

The Community Room was decked out, by management, for the Holiday …… maybe in lieu of a tree this year, as I've seen none; but it's still early.

No way did Manager set this up. It's probably the work of the young Assistant Manager.

We were joined at bingo by one of the newer residents ─ the guy I’d had to school on etiquette …… told how rude he was being when he walked into the Community Room while we were in the middle of bingo, sat down in the big chair, opened his phone and began viewing some kind of program, open mic, no headphones. That guy.

The Baker said she talked him into joining us.

He looked reluctant to be there, so I’m not sure he enjoyed bingo; but time will tell if he shows up again.

Also talked by the Baker into joining us was Little Linda — a weird little resident who has been living here since long before I arrived on the complex.

The Baker really needs to stop with all this kumbaya crap, trying to bring everyone in the complex together as one big bingo family.

So, anyway, Little Linda jives very well with residents of lesser character, but doesn’t jive well with those of us who don’t fall into that category.

She quite literally turns her nose up at those of us not of her tribe, walks right by us without looking at or speaking to.

Consequently, when one of the regulars saw Little Linda taking a seat, she made a stinky face, looked at me, nodded her head in the direction of Little Linda, as if to say look look look at whose joining us.

Little Linda sat at the table behind me with people she’s friendly with — Di, Name Dropper and Hell on Wheels, and I caught her too many times sneaking glances at me.

Seeing me up close, watching me take photos, help winners at the prize table, the women at her table being friendly with me probably piqued her interest, but she blew her shot to get to know me many years ago when she rebuffed a friendly gesture made by me and has since given me the not of her tribe treatment.

Two can play that game, so catching her glances out the corner of my eyes, I in return refused to acknowledge her glances, did not look at or attempt to speak to her.

Of course, Di and Name Dropper being seated together was a mistake. The fact that Little Linda and Hell on Wheels were seated with them didn’t deter the two from getting in trouble. The two were quite literally yelled at, several times …… for talking.

One of the organizers would yell "HEY!" to quiet the two down so the Caller could hear the game winner verify the win by calling out their winning numbers.

Being yelled at didn’t bother them, not one bit. They seemed to enjoy it — looked at each other, giggle like naughty school children.

Paranormal John: You’ll be interested to know Hell on Wheels, who’d missed a few sessions, was escorted in by a caregiver I’d not seen before …… a male.

I guess she’s traumatized all the females the agency provided, so they are seeing if she’ll be less awful being cared for by a male caregiver.

And get this John, she now has 4 caregivers. They work in shifts.

Two are from an agency, two are relatives ─ one of which is her daughter, who comes on Sundays, cooks and leaves meals for the week.

All caregivers, relatives and agency people, are paid caregivers.

Once again, I didn’t win any of the 10 games, but I walked away with a poinsettia plant that, based on past experiences with poinsettias, I haven't a clue as how to keep alive.

A gift from the organizers as thanks for designing and printing bingo flyers, taking photos, managing the website.

The day before, while heading into the Laundry Room, I was approached by a fairly new resident who was upset, said "I don’t even want to live here anymore" because her unit had been burglarized …… several times.

She said her electronics disappeared during the burglaries, then her clothes and now, "I’ve got nothing left".

I suggested it might be the homeless a new resident who has been using her unit as a hostel — sneaking homeless people in at night, allowing to shower, spend the night …… for money we suspect.

We suspect for money because late one night there was a commotion outside TinTin’s unit. I was asleep, didn't hear it, but the noise woke up Next Door Neighbor, who tells me it was a couple, that looked homeless, banging on TinTin's door yelling, "Let us in, we paid, let us in".

There’s been no more of that from TinTin since that late night commotion outed her activities, but it did alert us to this side business some residents have going on.

And yes …… Next Door Neighbor reported TinTin’s commotion to management and a resident or residents in the quad, where this hostel is currently operating, reported to management.

So, when this resident was telling me about having been burglarized more than once, I suggested it might be the homeless being let in by the resident in her quad.

She said no, that it was a male resident around the corner. "He’s on drugs and he’s always walking over here and watching me".

Asking if the office knew of the burglaries, she said yes but the office told her they can’t do anything.

That didn’t surprise me, because that’s what they do in the office about everything …… nothing.

So then I ask, "Have you reported this to the police?", whereupon she hemmed and hawed, averted my eyes, managed not to answer the question.

My spidey sense went up.

I asked, “How are they getting into your unit?”.

It was well this, well that, hemmimg hawing again with no answer.

I left it with, "You’d better make a police report before they come in and kill you in your sleep" and walked away thinking I’d better get this story verified.

"She has problems, is not well", I’m told.

She’s told this story of being burglarized to several people and each time blames a different resident as the culprit.

Furthermore, her neighbors have security cameras ─ that’s how they know about the resident sneaking in homeless people at night.

Those security cameras are not showing anyone going into her unit, other than herself and her relatives.

So, the general consensus is that if …… as in IF this story of missing electronics/clothing is even true, it’s probably one of her own relatives.

And that’s the tea.

P.S. I learned the Thanksgiving Luncheon was not El Pollo chicken. Instead it was individual personal sized boxes of Kentucky Fried Chicken (KFC). They served the residents box lunches for Thanksgiving. Can't wait to see what management comes up with for the Christmas Party.

I may have to call off that morning's workout, go to the event, see for myself.

Surprise Beaches!

When last I posted, the plan was to scour Instagram and TikTok to see if anyone else tackled the challenging Casa Navidená ginger build for how it turned out.

That kit was so popular that it sold out, yet I only came across one other builder; and where others not posting may have been the result of "I’m not showing this mess to nobody", there was no shame in the game of the other builder, who noted it took her all day (same with me) and she "regrets nothing", LOL.

I see that she too could not replicate the vibrant pink color, as depicted on the box, and like my build, her walls came out looking like stucco.

All in all, with the level of difficulty we encountered, I think she and I are about even as to how our projects turned out ……… a passing grade of Okay.

Other than that, it's still been vewy vewy quiet around here, except for a visit from Knock Knock Knock on Monday.

My little stalker is growing up fast, gets cuter every day and yes, that’s a rather large candy cane in her hand.

Knowing she’ll show up at my door eventually, I always have a treat waiting for her.

Last night, it was her grandma Talker at the door, looking for assistance in emailing documents from her phone ……… she's in the process of getting qualified to buy a house.

It took no time to get the electronic transfer done, but then Talker stayed to talk, and talk, and talk, and talk for three hours.

Made me miss Survivor, but no worries, because I put Survivor on record and Talker was giving good gossip.

The management sponsored Thanksgiving Luncheon for the residents, per Talker, was "Okay", but she had a disappointed look on her face when saying, instead of Turkey with the usual sides and pie, residents were served El Pollo Loco (chicken, rice, beans, tortillas).

Also, the event was quick and dirty, as in residents were immediately served and the event was over in 30 minutes.

Sound like hurry up, eat, get out.

Why bother when Manager makes it obvious she only does these events because Corporate requires it at all its properties, but at least Manager did make an appearance ……… for a hot second, and without a meltdown this time.

Manager only has to get through one more ……… The Annual Christmas Party on the 17th, and she won't be obliged to do anything for us after for a while, can recuperate from the trauma of having to play nice.

Talker tells me she, the 45/47 Supporter around the corner and a few others felt sorry for Manager locking herself in the office, crying over "No one likes me" at the Harvest event. Felt soooo sorry that they were considering buying and having flowers delivered to her office.

So gullible are these people thought I, as Talker was telling me of this plan. It would have played right into Manager’s manipulative I’m gonna play the victim and cry, everyone will feel sorry for me hands to have done so, but whatever.

At any rate, Talker said that before they all could do so, 45/47 Supporter ran out, bought flowers to make herself look good in Manager's eyes.

This has angered the group; 45/47 Supporter is now being called "that Kiss Ass Brown Noser", ROFLMAO!

This only proves to me my instincts were correct when, a few months ago, even before I knew that brown noser was a supporter, she sent me a friend request on Facebook, which request I declined.

Like I said, I didn’t even know she was a supporter at that time. Just that, though she seemed a nice enough neighbor, I didn’t know her all that well, had a sense she was being nosey — just wanted to get in my business, while having none of her own on her Facebook page. So it was a Nope from me.

My scrapbooking supplies arrived, so I've been busy, and will be busy trying to catch up.

In fact, before Talker arrived, I'd driven to the photo lab to pick up photos I'd sent for development earlier in the day.

I don't leave the complex at night for reasons of safety. However, wanting those photos stat, I ventured out around 5:00, found it was already pitch black. Returning in the dark, I spotted an interesting sight in the sky.

I'm sure that's a star next to what I believe is called a waxing crescent moon.

Google tells me a waxing moon signifies a period of growth, expansion and positive energy, while the star symbolizes guidance, inspiration and the achievement of higher aspiration.

Maybe the star is an alien spaceship come to take you know who and all his supporters away.

At any rate, a beautiful sight in the sky. Made me glad I ventured out past 4:00 in the afternoon, which is my usual outside cutoff time.

Tomorrow is Bingo Friday but, inasmuch as Trainer had to move tomorrow morning’s workout to Saturday, there won’t be the usual rushing from there to here, followed by here to there, then there back down to here. Instead, I can gingerly walk down to the Community Room ahead of the rush, stake out a spot, hang with the homies until game time.

Trainer says that since the organizers are accustomed to seeing me rush in, rush out, rush back down, that when I gingerly walk down I should enter saying, "Surprise bitches!".

I would never, but fun to imagine doing so.

If At First You Don’t Succeed

I spent all Thanksgiving Day working on ginger builds.

The kit I won at bingo won’t win any awards, but it came out okay.

The big gingerbread build was a total disaster.

I chose Casa Navidená because it reminded me of South Park’s Casa Bonita — the Mexican Restaurant that Cartman was so intent on being included in Kyle’s birthday party there that he misled Butters into thinking the world had ended, had Butters hunkering down in a dump site while he stole Butter’s invitation and got himself inside Casa Bonita.

The build came together, no problem using the egg/powdered sugar frosting glue suggested by JanF (thanks, Jan), but decorating was a fail.

Once the pink icing in the kit was applied, the look was nowhere as vibrant as it appears on the box, not to mention there wasn’t enough icing.

I tried to fix that by adding a drop of red food coloring to the royal icing I’d made for more pink, but still ……… applied to brown gingerbread the color wasn’t pink.

There was enough red in the kit to color the roof, but red on brown gingerbread made the roof look dull, drab.

After trying various ways to save the build, including scraping off the pink, going white, and trying to brighten up the drab roof — all unsuccessful, I tossed the whole thing in the trash.

If at first you don’t succeed …… I headed out this morning for another Casa Navidená kit.

This time I used pink edible food spray, instead of icing.

The gingerbread turned red.

I mixed red food coloring with royal icing, got pink, applied it over the red and it was better, but still not pink.

As the afternoon wore on, and I worked on windows, I mixed the pink in the kit with royal icing, applied several layers of that pink and the color on the house got better.

Once the house was completed, I took the red provided in the kit, mixed it with royal icing, and got a peppermint color — which I liked and, going over the build one last time, got a satisfactory pink.

All those applications of color make the walls look like stucco, but I can live with that.

A few minutes later.

Home for the Holiday

Having decided not to pack up and hit the road for Thanksgiving with the dysfunctional family, I was thankful for having made that decision when the commentator on country station KFrog said that nearly 80 million Americans are expected to travel over Thanksgiving.

It’s been vewy vewy quiet here on the complex. I’ve not seen or spoken to anyone while out and about, so I don’t know if yesterday’s rescheduled Thanksgiving Luncheon took place or how thing went if it did, i.e., what was served, who went, did Manager comport herself appropriately.

Inasmuch as the patio decorations are already up, and I made enough chicken tamales on Tuesday to get me through to Christmas, Stolen Land Day is free to work on that never ending needlepoint project and perhaps work on this year’s gingerbread build.

Catching up on Creative Memory Scrapbooking is on hold until supplies come in.

That rainstorm we’d been threatened with last week, was a sprinkle. However, looking at the dark clouds overhead, that could change as early as tomorrow.

When the storm didn’t hit Friday night or Saturday morning, I made a quick trip to stock up on supplies at Sprouts, with a plan to stop by Starbucks, get Trainer a gift card for Thanksgiving.

However, seeing a Dutch Bros (DB) across from Sprouts, and remembering how excited Trainer was to tell me a DB has opened up in our area, I trotted on over to see if they have gift cards …… save myself having to drive to Starbucks — which is where I usually purchase gift cards.

They do …… have gift cards at DB that is, as I was told by the young man taking orders in the parking lot.

Opting for a $50 card, I pulled out a $100 bill and was told they don’t take $100’s, I’d have to use my card.

Inasmuch as the ATM on the same lot is giving out hundred dollar bills, that's just silly.

Dawn, over at Bohemianvalhalla recently did a post on how it’s getting harder and harder to pay cash, that shops and stores are pushing for our using cards.

Having had my card hacked three times, necessitating closing out accounts, I’m leery of cards, prefer cash, so I eked out $50 from my fanny pack in small bills.

The young man then tells me he can’t accept cash. I’d have to get in line, pay the cashier.

There was only one couple in front of me in the cashier's line and, of course, they were taking forever.

When I finally made it to the register, held cash out to the young cashier, she seemed thrown — froze for a bit, looked me in the eyes, looked at the cash I was holding out, looked me in the eyes again. It was like she didn't know what to do, then said, "Oh! You’re paying with cash?".

Duh!

A woman standing off to the side, who'd been observing since I had to dig out $50 in small bills when the young man said he couldn't take a $100 bill, started laughing and remarked on how complicated it was for me to get a simple gift card.

If this is the way it’s going to go — a cashless society, I may have to do all my shopping, groceries and otherwise, online. Though online has not been completely safe. I’ve ordered and paid for items that never arrived, and a small Etsy purchase from Missouri ended up with my card being hacked for $1500 from a metal manufacturing company and a second attempt at more when the first charge wasn’t immediately flagged.

So it’s six on one half a dozen on the other, still I prefer cash.

So, anyway, Trainer seemed excited this morning when I handed him a DB card, instead of the usual Starbucks and wished him a nice holiday tomorrow; but DB being a bit of a hassle, it will be back to his getting Starbucks for Christmas.