Saturday, March 28, 2020

Checking In

Still copacetic over here. It actually looks so every day normal that, but for the news coverage of what is occurring elsewhere, you’d hardly understand the seriousness of what is happening.
There are a few signs something is going on ─ The Pain Cave is still closed, but construction workers are back on the job at that corner site. The market is fully stocked, toilet paper/paper towels and all, except not on the shelves.
For some odd reason, toilet paper and paper towels are stacked up front and center ─  as you enter the market, and a worker is stationed there to dispense those items.

I didn’t see a "limit" sign, but the worker must be stationed there for a reason. I’m thinking to prevent hoarding by dispensing one or two rolls of each.
Another small sign something is amiss is that eggs, not limited last week, are now limited to one.

Last Week

This Week

Other than that, the neighborhood is chaos free.
The office is still closed off and evidently some of the seniors are not having it because management put out yet another notice. This one to reiterate "Office staff and maintenance are not available during this time due to mandatory closure. Please do not knock on office doors at this time".
ROFLMAO! I’ll bet dollars to donuts this notice is meant for one personApache, who’s probably been banging on the door to make contact because Community Manager won’t take or return Apache’s telephone calls.
Not many neighbors are out/about and, of the few that are, I see an increase in the wearing of masks and gloves.
With landscapers not allowed onto the property, during this shutdown period, the grass is growing wild.

By the time landscapers are allowed back in, it’s going to look like a jungle around here.
BTW, I took that photo of the grass yesterday, when I was returning to my unit after picking up mail, and I just noticed it captured The Seer, off in the distance, standing on her patio.
My eagle eyes can see a little dot, which is she, appearing on the other side of that bench but, to make her more readily visible, I cropped the image to focus on that particular area.

The patio on her unit gives her a clear view of the pathway leading to/from the mailbox and many times in the past, she’d tell me, "I can see everything going on over there from here".
So clearly, she saw ME ... was looking right at ME.
I waved.
She didn’t wave back.
Still looking my way, I gave it a second try ─  waved again.
Okay. If that’s the way she wants it, so mote it be. I'm done waving and yelling out a friendly "hey". 
So that’s it for how things are going on in self-isolation at this end. I miss my trice weekly training sessions. Sunday’s hair appointment with the locktician was cancelled ─ the shop was ordered to close and I'm already seeing signs of cancellation of an appointment at the nail salon (also ordered to be closed).

A nail clawing its way through. LOL.

Tuesday, March 24, 2020

Why Now?

How’s everybody doing in your self-isolation corner of the world?
Things still seem copacetic over here except yesterday, a resident I’m not familiar with, was carried out on a stretcher. However, inasmuch as the rescue guys were not wearing gloves or masks, I’m assuming it was a regular old person call (a fall or heart palpitations), not covid related.
Still, I’m surprised no gloves no mask ... just in case.
I’m also surprised rescue showed up at all because, if I’m understanding the news correctly, normal regular distress calls would not be responded to.
Oh well.
While out on the patio, pulling the carpet cleaner from storage, I saw The Seer walking through my quad, looking to be headed to the market, and yelled out a “hey”.
I don’t think she responded.
Wearing a face mask and gloves, she looked up and though only her eyes were visible to me, I’d swear she was mean mugging me through the mask.
Her aura was, as usual since hooking up with Shadow, dark and she just looked mean as hell. Mad at the world and everyone in it. 
How can a person live like that? ... hateful, resentful.
I haven’t seen her boyfriend shadowing her since this covid thing happened and, the fact she was walking to the market, instead of being driven by him like the queen she thinks herself to be, is telling and may be why she was mean mugging me ─ she knows I’m an awake being and knew I’d read into her having to walk to the store and Shadow not following her around like a little puppy dog.
Oh well again.
Coming back from checking mail, I observed Head Maintenance Guy’s family outside their unit. The two boys were playing in the grassy knoll area, while his wife was sitting on a bench attending to the daughter. This was the first time I’d seen the daughter, now almost 2 years old, since I’d heard she’d been delivered.
Why now?
That family has never ever ever EVER involved themselves with us. The kids have known nothing but self-isolation since 2013, when Head Maintenance Guy moved his family in.
I don’t begrudge children being let out to play. I felt bad they were always cooped up inside, never allowed to play outside or join in on fun events. I just question why now. Especially when management has instituted so many precautionary measures ─ the latest of which is, to further enforce distancing staff from us, that we are to mail our rent checks to the office.
I’m okay with that, but it’s just too funny that I’ll be addressing an envelope to where I live, drop that envelope in the mailbox knowing it’s going to be picked up by a confused mail carrier, work its way through processing and then gets delivered back, by that confused mails carrier, to where I live.
Just too funny when Head Maintenance Guy’s family is out and about amongst us. Why can’t we just give the checks to his wife for delivery?

Sunday, March 22, 2020


On the way to the University this morning, to complete the Hot Chocolate Virtual 5K, I popped into the market for fruit.
Lo and Behold, they had eggs. No limit.

They also had chicken. No limit. I didn’t need chicken, so I passed on that but, when I saw ground turkey, I ended up doing a little shopping/restocking.

Inasmuch as some facebook friends had been looking for eggs, I posted “eggs/no limit” and my haul.
One friend thanked me for the info, drove over, got eggs and milk.
Another friend lambasted me for purchasing Guerrero tortillas, not the Romero brand. And she was serious, even added a frowny face to her complaint.
Well, damn! thought I.
I just grabbed tortillas, didn’t look at “brand”. Just picked up what my eyes went to, checked the expiration date, and moved on.
Evidently, her husband delivers Romero to the stores and she took offense to my not purchasing what supports her husband’s job.
Here’s where I wish I could be more honest with people.
I said I’d grabbed Guerrero because they’re gluten free.
So is Romero”, she replied.
Not thinking of what else I could come up with to appease her, I folded, apologized for not purchasing Romero, said I would next time.
But I won’t.
The more I think about it, the more pissed off I become.
I don’t even like her husband, and wish I could have told her that. And now that I know her husband delivers Romero ─ plus annoyed at her lecture, I’ll go out of my way in future to purchase Guerrero. Wish I'd had the guts to tell her that as well.
Me thinks the stress of this pandemic is causing normally nice people to lose their mind. And reacting to their reacting, is making me mean. LOL. 
At any rate, in spite of news reports of lack, limitation, worsening awfulness, it looks and feels like everything is back to normal around here ─ except the toilet paper, sanitizer, paper towel isle is still empty, but I have a feeling that too will be rectified during the week.
After dropping off the groceries at the complex, I got back in the car and drove to the University, a little hesitate about walking …. not sure if I was breaking the Governor’s edict, because I thought I’d heard on the news that “outside exercise is prohibited” but wasn’t sure if that was something being done elsewhere, not here. However, on the drive, I became embolden when I saw quite a few people out walking and running along the avenue.
Arriving at the college, I had the whole campus to myself. It was just me, myself and the squirrels.
Having watched too many horror and zombie movies, envisioning someone or something hiding around ever isolated corner, ready to pounce on me, I decided to stick to the out-in-the-open perimeters, which meant asphalt.
My feet are now killing me, but I got ‘er done. Earned my swag ─ which the organizers, using the honor system, had pre-mailed.

Friday, March 20, 2020

California is Closed!

The Governor has essentially closed California, ORDERED non-essential businesses to close, citizens to stay indoors.
In spite of this drastic measure, things are relatively calm in the area.
No line at the corner market, you can walk right in but good luck finding eggs, chicken. ground turkey. There’s plenty of beef but, ever since mom told ten-year-old me that my dog Skippy had been sent to the butcher, turned into hamburger meat, I can’t bring myself to eat beef. And, of course, the Pain Cave received notice to close its doors ─ only until April 1 thus far. Other than that, it’s self-isolating business as usual around here.
Fortunately, I shopped just at the right time ─ a day or so before lines began to form, and have chicken and eggs for a week or two, so no worries ... until then.
However, after the Governor’s announcement, my spidey sense began going nuts ... telling me this is the calm before the storm, to expect Marshall Law down the road, that I needed to prepare by gassing up the car, stop by the bank for cash.
That’s how I ended up in Fontana this morning, where the level of panic was at a much higher level.
People were driving erratically ─ looking stress, worried, not looking both ways before turning corners or exiting an area, cutting in front of oncoming cars (sometimes my car). Hurriedly parking their cars and then quickly jumping out in a rush to get to where they were going.
It was insane, frightening.
Unlike most days, when there are long lines at the Costco gas pumps, I was able to pull right in because the line was at Costco itself ─ wrapping all the way around the front, side, rear of the building.

End of Line Behind Costco

Aghast, I began thinking it would take until late tonight for those folks to get in. And why thought I ... what does Costco have that stores you can walk right into don’t have.
Evidently there’s no walking right into the market in that area, because there was a line outside the Ralphs Market next to the bank.
Entering the bank, I saw they’d marked safe distancing.

I was happy to see that. Also, happy I was that there were only three other customers in line ahead of me.
What bothered me though was, standing at the teller window, there was a human at teller windows to my right and left, too close for comfort thought I, so I suggested the teller pass on to his manager that the open windows be spaced to every other window.
Insofar as banking, my timing was perfect because, by the time I completed my transaction, there was a line out the door.
Since I was in the area of Sprouts, I drove by and there was no line. You could walk right in, no hassle.
So again I ask ... why was everyone a few blocks away in line at Costco and Ralphs?
Before I headed out this morning, Complex Manager called to see how things were going for me ... was I okay, did I need anything (a welfare check).
Of course, the first thing to run through my mind was the smoke detector he failed to follow up on. It’s still dangling from the ceiling and now is likely to dangle at least 18 more months. LOL.
It appears to be less noisy when it’s dangling, so I’m gonna let that sleeping dog lie. But how nice for him to be doing welfare checks on us residents.

Wednesday, March 18, 2020

Through the Glass Window

Ran into my buddy Apache as I was heading to the Pain Cave yesterday.
He began walking towards me, complaining about the Complex Manager not responding to his phone calls.
Now I do love my buddy Apache, but he hangs out with some dubious characters, and spends a lot of time in the casinos.
Having heard on the news that a casino worker had tested positive, I panicked and said to Apache, “Don’t come too close!” and began swinging my gym bag at him, because he kept coming.
I think it was the swinging of the gym bag that registered with him that I was serious.
I didn’t have time to get caught up with Apache, and his having to stand so far away from me kinda cooled his need to talk, so we went our separate ways.
There’s a nice glass window in the workout room of the Pain Cave.
I refer to it as my “television screen” because it’s so entertaining to watch people, who don’t know they are being observed, as I work out.
Trainer and I have observed drug deals taking place and once, there was a crazy homeless lady who changed clothes, not only in full view of us in the Cave, but in full view of the public.
She completely stripped off her shirt, her bra, stood around naked from the waist up for a time before covering up again with a different shirt.
To Trainer’s credit, he turned his back, said, “I’m not looking” and didn’t turn around until I said she'd re-covered herself.
At our next session, Trainer said that very night, during an evening training session, a homeless man had come into the studio to say, “Hey! There’s a woman out here starting a fire”.
She’d joined a group of homeless men and, it being a cold night, started a bonfire in the back parking lot to keep warm.
The other homeless didn’t agree with that being done, so close to businesses, asked for help putting the fire out, then told the woman, “We don’t do crazy here. You gotta go” and they chased her away.
Think about that for a second.
Think about how wacky you must be that homeless people don’t want anything to do with you.
Also from the glass front television screen at the Pain Cave is a view of the market parking lot.
I’d thought, now that everyone has loaded up on groceries, the market parking lot would be empty.
It’s not.
I’ve not seen a line, but the lot is full with people coming/going.
Trainer has a theory. That theory being people are so stressed and so bored, with this having to stay indoors self-isolating, that they’re eating up supplies, have to go get more.
LOL, but it’s possible
Now I’m reading this pandemic self-isolate thing might last “18 months or more”.
Hopefully, that’s a gross over estimation because, no manicure/pedicure, no trip to the locktician (braided hair stylish) for 18 months and I’ll be looking like Howard Hughes during his final years — you know, the scraggily hair, long claw-like nails on the hands and toes.
I received email notice that my favorite boutique in the mall is “temporarily” closing its doors.
Will the mall be closing its doors altogether?
With so few people, why remain open, but “18 months”?????
I did make it to the craft store for floss, a day or two before it got real for me, but never made it to Macy’s to replenish makeup, so I’ll have to go online for that now.
I’m retired, I’m okay, I don’t like the idea of 18 months, but I can handle it. But what about others (including family) who must work for a living. How are they going to manage a year and a half of this.

Monday, March 16, 2020

Sh*t Got Real

My friend The Archeologist posted a photo of long lines at the corner market yesterday.

She went on to say shoppers were granted access in waves. Then, when people left, they let that amount in. They’d run out of carts, so the market had workers escorting, providing extra hands.
All of a sudden, sh*t felt real.
It’s not that I’d taken a cavalier attitude to it all previously. Au contraire, I’d employed common sense, taken the proper precautions. It’s just that I didn’t overreact, and definitely did not expect the food lines and closures, prevalent in other areas, to come to town, and it now has.
Granddaughter sent me a photo of her mom (Twin 1) in line at a market in Long Beach, 4:00 a.m., in the morning.

The market did not open until 9:00. Twin 1 was the first one let in. She was shopping for herself, her outreach organization, veggies for her daughter (my granddaughter), turkey for her sister (Twin 2) AND her ex-husband (father of my grandsons) who’d not prepared ... not at all ... had “nothing”.
Hope he doesn’t need toilet paper because Twin 1 could get him groceries, but TP is not to be found.
Granddaughter herself is self-isolating and sent me a photo, taken from her balcony overlooking the ocean in Long Beach, of the cruise ship where passengers are being held for Covid testing.

Management has taken additional measures here at the complex.
The Community Room is now closed altogether ─ doors are locked, as is there now a chain locking the pool/ spa areas. Computer area is closed, as is the game room and the office ─ closed to us as of last week, is now also closed to the public.
It’s a complete lockdown, except “The laundry rooms will remain open for now”.
That “for now” spurred me to get laundry out of this way this past weekend, just in case management changed its mind and locked those as well.
The Governor is calling for home isolation for seniors 65 or older.
I don’t think that’s going to be difficult for our seniors, many of whom haven’t been out of their unit in years, others who’ve gone no further than the Community Room (which closure might be a challenging adjustment).
As for me, except for the Pain Cave, market, craft store, my life IS mostly self-isolation.
In fact, last time I checked into the Community Room, one of the residents said people had asked about me, saying they'd not seen me in a long time ... "What happened to Shirley? Did she move?". She’d replied “No, she’s probably upstairs working on her crafts”.
“You pretty much nailed it”, said I. "My life is needlepoint and working out".
So,"self-isolation" ─ in my book, is a regular day of living a peaceful, drama free existence.

Friday, March 13, 2020

Friday the 13th Again

We just had Friday the 13th in December ─ for which I edited Pikachu to be wearing a Santa hat.
Seems awful soon to have another 13th. How often does this day come around, thought I.
The internet tells me that, on average, there’s a Friday the 13th once every 212.35 days, at least once every year, but can occur up to three times in the same year—"for example, in 2015, Friday the 13th occurred in February, March, and November. 2017 through 2020 will all have two Friday the 13ths, and the years 2021 and 2022 will have just one occurrence each”.
That being so, you can expect to see Pikachu again this year, edited to reflect what’s going on in the world at that time.
I forgot to mention in yesterday’s post that, when the specialist walked into the examination room, she introduced herself, held out her hand and I, like a fool, responded and shook it.
Immediately remembering I said, “We aren’t supposed to do that now”.
“You’re right” she mumbled. “We’ll both wash our hands” she said as she headed to the sink and began washing her hands, while I reached into my bag and sanitized my hands with one of the handy wipes I always carry. LOL.
I remember once, when I was working, had a problem with my computer and I.T. showed up eating a candy bar, licking his fingers, touching the computer keys.
It was disgusting. I was in shock, while he appeared oblivious to being a pig.
I didn’t want to touch his DNA so, when he finished his work, I pulled out wipes and began sanitizing the keyboard.
I.T. Guy was HIGHLY offended, and said so as I continued to silently sanitize until he stormed away.
Times have certainly changed. Now I get praised for whipping out wipes.

Thursday, March 12, 2020

Silly Thoughts

I shared with Trainer yesterday that I’d had a silly thought that morning, while watching Alien vs Predator.
I was watching that movie so early in the morning, not only because it’s a favorite of mine from the Predator Series, but because I was avoiding the news on Good Morning America. There’s been too much mention of No. 45 ─ what he’s supposedly doing about Covid, and I really don’t want to hear his robotic voice reading OBVIOUSLY from a prompter, can’t stand seeing his vacuous face on television.
At any rate, though I’ve seen that movie literally dozens of times, it suddenly occurred to me how crappy it was that the aliens employed invisibility.
It was supposed to be combat with humans to prove alien superiority, but it’s not combat if they can see YOU but you can’t see THEM.
Trainer didn’t think that was such a silly thought because, when he was watching Ninja Turtles with his sons, he had the thought that all four of the turtles beating up on one foe wasn’t fair. “Why can it be one on one. Why do all four have to gang up?”, he’d thought.
ROFLMAO. But this is why we get along so well. Though a 40+ year age difference, he gets me/I get him.
Returning to the complex from the Pain Cave that day, I ran into the resident with mask and surgical gloves out walking her dog.

All well fine and good for her to protect herself thusly, thought I, but what about the dog ... Can dogs not be infected?
One would think that a silly thought as well, but evidently not.

So now you know.
Today was up and at it early in order to keep an 8:45 a.m. appointment at the medical center with the gastro specialist.
Yep, after chickening out last year, I finally allowed the doctor to schedule me with the specialist ... just to talk … don't EVEN think about torturing me with horrible testing methods.
It was a good talk. Found out I’m better off than most with a leaky gut, probably because, as the specialist said, I’ve done a good job of diagnosing myself ─ identifying what I can and cannot eat which, it turns out those brussel sprouts that tried to kill me was on the list of worst thing to eat for my condition.
Who knew? It’s a vegetable, but I learned the hard way to avoid them in future.
At any rate, because I’ve done so well, have no serious symptoms, just symptoms I find highly annoying, it was just a blood test and talking me into trying a pill.  Preferring holistic measures, I don't trust medication to not just create another problem, but I'm going to give medication a try. She also suggested I tweak my clean eating by eliminating onions and garlic. Scallions are okay and I can use garlic infused olive oil, rather than garlic, plus I'm to be scheduled with the Dietician.
No pain involved, so I’m down with those suggestions BUT, then the specialist said I’d have to give up coffee.
That’s not a silly thought, that’s crazy talk.

Wednesday, March 11, 2020

Overreacting ???

I’m big on punctuality. I hate having my time wasted and am careful not to waste anyone else’s time. Consequently, I’m always a few minutes early to appointments of whatever nature.
Thus it is, I generally arrive at the Pain Cave for my 11:45 appointment, at 11:40 ─ occasionally, 11:35 and kill the extra time in the car ─ listening to music or playing PokemonGo.
It was pouring down rain yesterday which, having to put on boots, a jacket, grab an umbrella threw me off. I arrived precisely at 11:45.
“You’ve never been this late before Shirley”, said Trainer (even though I technically was not late, rather precisely on time). “I was beginning to worry”, he went on to say. “Was just about to call to see if you were okay”.
“Awwwwwww”, murmured I. He’s such a sweet kid. Was worried about me.
To look at him, you’d never guess him to be so soft, caring. Muscular and all tatted up, one might judge him as a badass gangbanger.
At any rate, tomorrow’s session was rescheduled to today, because I have a conflicting appointment tomorrow. Tomorrow also happens to be our one-year anniversary, as my first training session was March 12, 2019.
Trainer was joking around about me abandoning him on our anniversary.
“Don’t feel too bad” said I. “You’ve lasted longer than some of my boyfriends”.
He got a good laugh from that and said, “Back at you. You’ve lasted longer than many of my girlfriends”.
Arriving back at the complex, I found a notice attached to the door that, due to this Covid thing, management is cancelling all social events (what few we did have), including the coffee setup in the Community Room, and asking residents not to leave refreshments, i.e., donuts, cookie, cupcakes, etc.
Good, thought I. Not just because it’s smart to limit social contacts during this COVID thing, but because the seniors need this timeout, from the bingo they so dearly love, so they can reflect on their behaviors of late. Consider what’s really important, what is not.
Management is also requesting we not contact them via in person office visits, use the telephone instead.
Plus, when placing a work order, management would like for us to tell them if we are ill or not feeling well. (Probably so they can have an excuse for not showing up).
Ha! Good luck with that one, thought I, as it’s difficult enough to get service when we’re feeling great.
Is management overreacting? Carrying things too far? I dunno? It sounds like they are deathly afraid of being contaminated by one of us. Maybe it is us who should be afraid of being contaminated by one of them, not want them in our units or near us because we don’t know where their bodies have been, with whom they’ve come in contact.
I think management is overreacting, but only time will tell.
At any rate, there now being no reason for the seniors to come out of their units, this place is going to start looking like a deserted ghost town.
Another fun looking run/walk has come to my attention but, inasmuch as festivals and large gatherings are being cancelled right and left, I’m not sure the one’s I’ve already registered for (except for the virtual) will take place. So, I’m taking a wait and see stance on registering for this latest one.
I’ve got to hurry up a trip to Macy’s — to replenish makeup and a trip to the craft store — for floss, before said businesses find it necessary to shut down.
Hopefully businesses won’t get that afraid of customers, but you never know.

Tuesday, March 10, 2020

Panic Buying

The checker and bag person were making fun of people panic buying toilet paper at the market yesterday. Not to their face but, as the panic buyer walked away, and I took her place at the counter, the checker and bag person began to disparage her.
The acoustics was terrible, so I couldn’t make out all they were saying, except when the bag person looked at me and tried to draw me into the conversation with, “They can’t eat toilet paper”.
Not wanting to be thus included in making fun of anyone for any reason, I said, “You never know. They might”.
A ridiculous comeback, but it was all I had. LOL.
Actually, there appeared to be plenty of toilet paper on the shelf, no need to panic buy. What they didn’t have was dried seaweed (nori). Someone was either planning a huge sushi party or panic bought ALL the nori.

The market tried to mask the absence of nori by repositioning products to cover the gaps where usually three/four different brands of nori can be found, but that didn’t fool me.
Oh well.
Having previously reported panic buying of wipes had not reached this area, as there was still plenty on the shelf, I looked around and found those shelves are now completely bare.

Guess it’s a good thing I’ve got a stash of my own, because I ALWAYS keep wipes in the car, in the house, and in my fanny pack because … people.
Even though I could not ascertain how well I did at Saturday’s Shamrock 5k, because of the way the sorority’s broke results down, tracking data accumulated from the device on the back of my bib came though and indicates I came in 2nd in the 61+ category. A 67-year-old beat me out by three minutes.
If you're curious as to how tracking works … it's the magic of radio frequency identification (RFID). There is an RFID reader embedded in the mat on the ground at the start point, and a RFID chip on back of our bibs. As we pass the RFID ground reader, data from the chip is sent to a computer indicating our bib number, time we crossed the reader heading out, time we crossed the reader coming back in. Then it breaks down results by age (evidently there were no racers over 61, other than myself and the No. 1 person). Further it breaks down my position compared to all who participated.



Overall, I came in 110 out of 267 participants.
Not bad. I’ll take it.

Saturday, March 7, 2020

Shamrock 5K

This morning’s 5K ─ hosted by a Sorority, though not the most fun I’ve had participating in a run/walk, turned out better than I’d expected.
The participants were indeed much younger than I, but not the “silly fraternity girls (and boys) dancing prancing running the course in seconds, leaving my old arse behind” I’d expected.
There actually weren’t that many running the course. Instead, it was mostly walkers AND quite a few of those walkers were slowing me down with their casual strolling as though they had all day to get around the course.
I managed to get around the slowpokes, leave ‘em in my dust as I paced myself on to a 58:31 finish.
The course was three 1.04 mile loops around a particular area of the campus ─ mostly asphalt road, which pounding away on asphalt left me stiff and sore all over. Just short of halfway through, I noticed a group of healthy-looking young men were cheating ─ taking a shortcut to the finish line after having completed nowhere near the required three loops.
Boo for them and, because there were timer chips in our race bibs, cheating won’t get them higher placement in the results. They did, of course, get to the finish line long before me, but the results should show less than the required 3.12 miles ... positioning them well behind me or incomplete, I hope.
Other young fit walkers, didn’t even finish the course. Some dropped out after the first mile, some after the second so that, by the time of the third and final lap, there were darn few of us participants still on the course.
Upon crossing the finish line, there were no medals given because ─ Sorority.
However, special medals went to the top 3 men and women, age 18 and over, rather than the usual top men/women in varying age groups, which meant the six medal winners were all 18/20 somethings because ─ Sorority.
I wasn’t terribly disappointed, as I did at least get a tee-shirt and the feeling of accomplishment at having finished.

There was no entertainment along the course because ─ Sorority. But there was music, Starbucks Coffee, donuts (I passed), a Spirit Team and a Cheer Squad at the finish line.

All in all, it was an okay 5K. I’d do it again. And though I’m stiff and sore now, I’m game to go Beast mode, head back to campus tomorrow ─ for a much slower paced walk ... that is if it doesn’t rain, which it now looks to be threatening.
Next up is San Diego’s Hot Chocolate 5K.
I don’t care much for San Diego, plus travel is too difficult with my gut issues, not to mention booking myself into a hotel during this Covid thing is not smart. The race organizers must be taking Covid into consideration as well because, for the first time, they’re offering a virtual ... and a whole lot of swag (medal AND a jacket instead of a tee).

Thursday, March 5, 2020

Seniors Behaving Badly …. Again Part 2

After today's workout, I stopped by the market and, as I was leaving, passed a customer wearing a mask — protection against Covid.
Arriving back at the complex, I saw a resident, out walking her dog, while wearing a mask and surgical gloves.
Other than those two signs of the time, this area has been very chill about getting into a panic. There was still toilet paper and hand sanitizers on shelves at the market, and the prices seemed normal.
After putting what few things I’d picked up at the market away, I checked into the Community Room expecting not to see bingo getting ready to begin — because of what Next Door Neighbor had revealed about trouble at last week’s session.
SURPRISE … the room was full, it was business as usual, except Apache was not in attendance.
The Baker was in the kitchen, preparing snacks for the seniors, whereupon I said, “You’re not supposed to be in the kitchen”.
I looked over, saw she’d also baked cupcakes, and said “Didn’t the doctor put you on rest, tell you not to do anything?”.
“I know, but I’m upset, need to keep busy”.
“Upset over what happened last Thursday?” asked I.
She began laughing hysterically and said, “No. That was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.”
The who what why of it is that Big Friendly Guy was talking with the resident who’d made the X-rated cupcake, the same resident who’d given an unsolicited lap dance to Apache at a previous bingo session. I need a name for her, as she’s likely to appear in the blog quite often, so let’s call her “X-rated”.
At any rate, Big Friendly Guy (BFG) and X-rated were supposedly talking loud during the bingo game, and another resident told them to be quiet.
The Baker said she heard “be quiet”, but said others heard it as “shut up”.
Whether “be quiet” or “shut up”, BFG took offense (although he himself appears to have been in the wrong for carrying on a conversation while numbers were being called), shot straight out of his chair and began yelling at whomever it was told him to shut up.
A woman in a wheel chair chimed in and said something to BFG about his talking having made it difficult to hear numbers called.
BFG ran straight up to the woman in the wheelchair, got up close and personal in her face and went off on her. Whereupon, The Baker tells me the entire room went nuts. Everyone got involved and there was yelling from everyone at everyone.
Apache tried to quiet everyone down saying that if all the arguing didn’t stop, it was going to cause him to get in trouble (because he’s in charge of bingo). No one listened, so Apache said he wasn’t doing bingo any longer, packed up all the prizes and walked out.
With no prizes on the table, no one to call the game, people still arguing, folks began leaving BUT, because one of the seniors had cooked soul food (as the session was titled “Black History Bingo”), and there was food in the oven, seniors began entering the kitchen, opening the oven, started taking food — making plates to take with them straight from the oven.
Baker said it was insane, out of control and, from start to finish, the funniest thing she’d ever seen, as she stood in a corner and stayed out of it.
Community Manager happened to walk into the room to see how bingo was going, saw the melee, quieted everyone down, and announced that, beginning April, he’d be taking bingo over.
GREAT! Another job that’s not his, when there’s more job-specific things he should be handling.
“You should have taped it”, said I to the Baker.
“I thought about it”, said she but not to worry because the Community Room video tape got it all. Community Manager reviewed the tape and had a talk with BFG.
I looked over to where BFG usually sits and saw he wasn’t present today.
I doubt Community Manager banned BFG from bingo. Community Manager is not the hardline type to ban anyone, so I'm assuming BFG has made the decision to be done with the seniors and with bingo.
I don’t think Apache is as forgiving as the Baker, so he’s probably done with it as well.
Besides once again being in the kitchen, cooking/baking for the seniors against doctor's orders because she's the forgiving kind, the Baker said she's doing it to keep busy. Her husband is not doing well and she doesn’t want to think about it.

Wednesday, March 4, 2020

Seniors Behaving Badly .... Again

Noticing yesterday that Nosey’s (corner unit downstairs, across the quad) blinds, usually opened enough for her to see what’s going on outside, were closed up tight, I thought it odd. THEN I realized I’d not seen her caregiver for a day or so.
Seeing next door neighbor on her patio, I asked if she knew whether everything was okay with Nosey, and next door neighbor said, “No. She’s in the hospital again.”
Another fall?” I ventured to guess.
Yes. She had another fall in her unit”, replied Next Door Neighbor.
Now that Nosey is dependent on a walker and a caretaker, I wonder how she managed to do that ... to fall and hurt herself yet again.
I’d not talked to Nosey for quite a while. First, because it seemed such an effort for her to understand what I was saying last time I did stop to ask how she was doing, when the caretaker had her sitting on the patio. Second, because she hasn’t been on the patio in months, and I didn’t want to knock and have Nosey struggle to get to the door if the caretaker happened to not be there.
It’s so scary when I see how some of the seniors are slowly painfully fading away. When my time comes, I hope I get to transition quickly, painlessly.
And speaking of having difficulty making myself understood, there is a resident I always run into while he’s out walking his pups. He’s a friendly guy, doesn’t appear to have any ailments ... that is until you talk to him. Then it becomes apparent he’s not quite all there. Consequently, I don’t try to engage him in conversation. I leave it at “good morning” when we pass and a wave when he’s at a distance.
The Seer once told me his situation is brain damage due to a motorcycle accident. However, his mother ─ who also has a unit on the property, once shared he (her youngest son) had been shot ... twice. Not bang bang, hospitalized, recovered but bang, hospitalized, recovered then bang again, hospitalized, recovered a second time.
I guess he has his good communication days and bad communication days because, for the first time in all the years I’ve been here, he engaged me in conversation today as I was heading to the mailbox. I understood him. He understood me.
What precipitated the conversation was his making the peace sign as we passed, then flipping the peace sign upside down.
"What’s that?", asked I.
"That’s peace", he indicated the up fingers were, and “That’s my thing” he indicated the sign upside down.
I’m thinking he’s talking gang sign and his being in a gang the reason why someone had tried to kill him twice.
He went on to say, “That’s been my thing since 1989. I’ve been molotov cocktailed, shot AND stabbed” ...  and he said it with what sounded like pride. 
His mom left those other two happenings out.
“You must have been into some bad stuff to have people after you like that.”
“No. All this happened to me after I got out of the military”.
No matter. We create your own reality, so he had to be doing something to draw those occurrences to himself, but it’s nothing short of a miracle that he’s still here, in better health than quite a lot of the seniors. But WOW! What a story.
The conversation ended with my saying, “You’re a walking talking miracle”.
When I was chatting with Next Door Neighbor, learning Nosey was once again hospitalized, Neighbor mentioned there was some sort of a bruhaha at last week’s Bingo. Something about shouting and a fight over food that resulted in Apache snatching up all the bingo prizes he’d displayed, walking out with them and back to his unit.
I’ll have to catch up with Apache tomorrow, learn the who, what, why of it.
These seniors are going to bad behave themselves right out of ALL their privileges.