Last Day of April

I’m still here, on this side of the veil, going through the motions of my normal day-to-day activities, except without coffee and other stimulates that cause a rapid rise in BP.

So far so good in bringing the pressure down from the danger zone, fewer instances of being lightheaded, fading in/out, woozy.

Consequently, I'm taking granddaughter's dream as more of a warning, rather than a predetermined event, but we shall see.

In the meantime, life goes on as Justin and the Boys ring in the month of May.

Enjoy!

My Turn, Part 2

Color me doubtful Next Door Neighbor is, as her son said "Doing okay" because yesterday I spied what looked to be a care team of two visiting nurses exiting her unit.

As for me, first priority for yesterday was to get the button on the phone fixed, but before heading out for technical assistance I turned to Google where I learned it’s not unusual for that button to fail.

It just picked the worst possible day to fail on me.

A so-called easy fix was to go into the settings, remove "swipe" replace with "one tap".

That worked because, shortly after changing the settings, a call came in from the medical center and I had no problem tapping in.

Individual on the line was calling to schedule an appointment with my doctor to go over the test results.

Good luck with that, thought I.

As she began checking the doctor’s schedule, I could hear her on the line going "hmmmmm?"

"It looks like your doctor is booked very far ahead".

"Ha! Welcome to my world", thought I.

It’s so difficult to get in to see my doctor that I’ve not seen her since August of 2022, and I won’t even bore you with how it was the visit solved nothing.

It’s not that she’s a bad doctor, it’s just that the medical center’s system is broken and fixed to particular procedures I'm guessing the doctors have to follow if they want to continue to be employed there ………… us members are fast food and pushed through with various medications. Focus is never on solving what brought us there in the first place.

Like the time I had an allergic reaction to something. Luckily, I managed a one-day appointment with a doctor new to the Center who examined my legs, arms, said, "I don’t know what that is, but here, let's give you a shingles shot".

I kid you not. A medical professional uttering the words, "I don't know what that is" and left it at that. Didn't call anyone else in. Didn't try to research.

I walked out with what I came in with.

I’ve had to research symptoms, find holistic ways to cure what ailed me then and since.

And when I did have a problem holistic could not help and called or texted the doctor’s office, I’d run into Know-It-All Beoches whose job it was to shield the doctor from being bothered. This created such a problem for me last time that I had to go to the clinic down the street for care and later file a complaint against the doctor’s care team.

So, anyway, "Let's see if I can book you with another doctor" said the woman on the line.

More "hmmmmm?"

Finding no doctor available in the near future, I was asked if I’d be comfortable with a video visit.

That would be no. Too much technology for me who didn’t even know the TV wasn’t working because the cable box had been turned off.

The call ended with my being scheduled for a phone visit next week to go over the test results …… not with a doctor, but with a "physician’s assistant".

That sounds like code for a Know-It-All Beoch, but it doesn’t matter, because it’s going to be the usual bull crap whether coming from a doc or an assistant.

I already know the tests are not going to solve the mystery of fading in/fading out. I’ll probably get the standard pat answer they give everyone, that it’s due to aging, so eat healthy, get in some exercise, maybe even lose some weight.

In the interim, watching my BP run high first thing in the morning, then fluctuate from high to low to high during the day (165/74 …… 146/61 …… 124/54 …… 141/63), my instincts are telling me to avoid the stimulates I’m so fond of for the time being, like coffee, jalapeno peppers, chili peppers, anything that might cause BP to spike.

Other than that, it’s business as usual, with still the occasional lightheaded sensation, as I wait to hear what this Physician’s Assistant has to say on Thursday.

Thanks for all the good wishes and concern.

I'm not a fatalist, but I'm good with whatever.

On the other hand, perhaps I am a bit of a fatalist because for quite some time, I've been going through the motions, taking life as it comes, having fun with it, but not all that vested in it. I equate myself to the character Beth from the TV comedy-drama "Good Girls".

One particular scene Beth did sums up how it's been for me for far longer than I care to admit.

My Turn

I did say in a recent post that life can literally turn on a dime, a healthy today is not promised for tomorrow.

And so it was I went from going Beastmode on Wednesday to a visit to the Emergency Room this afternoon.

Sitting at the computer around 4:00 yesterday, the room suddenly began to rock and I got so lightheaded that I had to grab onto the edge of the table to steady myself.

EARTHQUAKE!, thought I.

Logging into the Earthquake Tracker, I found no such event.

Interesting, thought I.

When waves of lightheadedness, sort of a fade in/fade out sensation continued on/off remainder of the afternoon, I began to think I might be having mini strokes.

Waking up this morning, feeling my usual self, I decided not to push it — skip Zumba, stick with the regular Pain Cave workout.

Just as I opened the door to head to the Cave, I came face-to-face with Next Door Neighbor’s son as he opened their door to head out.

"Good morning" said I and asked "Is L____ back from the hospital?".

"Yes".

"How is she?".

"She’s okay".

Like mother, like son. She’s a private person and he’s must be the same as he was not giving away any more than he had to.

As I was driving out of the complex, I saw him standing just outside the gate having a smoke.

Ha! NDN is back, so there will be no more Hanky Panky, if that’s what it was, or smoking inside her unit.

Shortly after returning to the complex, that fade in/fade out sensation began again.

Along about 12:30, granddaughter called and when I tried to accept the call, the button on the phone would not work.

Before I could call her back, she called again.

Still, the button would not work, but I got through before she could try a third time.

She sounded relieved and said she’d been worried when I hadn’t answered because "I had a dream my mom called last night to tell me you died".

Well, shit! but here’s the thing ………… I don’t mind going, I just don’t want to go slow with a stroke. Prefer to just go all at once.

So, taking granddaughter's dream as a sign, I called the medical center appointment line, where I had to run the gauntlet of that which is known as the appointment nurse.

When I described my symptoms, instead of scheduling the next available appointment — sometime in June, she directed me to head to the ER.

Six hours later, I was back home fading in/fading out, no wiser as to what the problem is and not an ounce of faith the doctor knows either.

Upon arrival at the medical center, I was checked in rightaway, directed to the waiting room.

It was a short wait until I heard my name called, stood up, began walking towards the nurse, who looked at me, called my name again with a question mark.

I signaled yes as her eyes and voice questioned if I was the correct Shirley.

While escorting me to the room, she said, "I was expecting an 80-year-old. I questioned it because you look 60".

Cool. I’ll take it.

As she was setting up a chart, she went on to say, "I’m 54. I hope I look as good as you when I’m 80. Do you still drive?"

ROFLMAO!

"Yes, so rest assured you will be able to drive when you’re 80".

The compliments did not help my symptoms as I continued to fade in/fade out.

I declared "IMPOSSIBLE!" when my BP registered 177 over I don’t remember.

The nurse took it three more times ………… Once while I was lying down, once sitting up, once standing. The best she could get was 169/80.

On the surface, the ER doctor seemed thorough and professional as he asked the appropriate questions, ran me through several tasks, said my dexterity and brain function were normal ………… not a series of mini strokes.

That was a relief as fading in/fading out arrived in waves while I was in the ER.

Doc ordered the usual lab work and said I should talk to my doctor about effectiveness of the BP medication.

Sure, I’ll do that just as soon as I can ……… which will be Tuesday, June 11.

Saying my heartbeat was "faint" he also ordered an EKG.

After the EKG, I was directed to go to the Lab for work, return to the ER after.

Once back in the ER, I was told there would be a 45 minute to an hour wait for the test results to come in, whereupon I’d be ushered back into the doc’s office.

Up until then, because of my symptoms when I'd arrived at the ER around 2:00, I'd immediately been put on the fast track ……… it took not much time to get checked in, see the nurse, the doctor, run through the questions/tasks, the EKG and lab work. So let’s say it was now around 3:30/4:00.

From there, I waited and waited and waited and waited and waited — I guess for the doc to tell me his findings.

I used the time to read a few more chapters of The Old Gays Guide to the Good Life until, along around 5:00, I began to question why bother.

They've made money off me running their little tests and procedures, not gonna find a damn thing, figure out or, like always, solve the actual problem. It's not a stroke, which was my main concern, so why stick around? I’ll give them until 6:00.

At 6:00 on the dot, I got up, walked out, headed home.

Phone rings at 6:12. It was my personal physician’s office.

I pull over but couldn’t answer because …… the button.

My personal physician's office called two more times and, on that third time, the button worked.

I apologized for not answering the previous calls, explained my phone isn’t working properly.

"That’s okay" says the assistant. "Are you still in the ER?"

Who told? How’d did that office know?

"No. I got tired of waiting and since they won’t figure out what’s wrong anyway, I left".

"Oh! Okay. I’ll put that in the notes".

Then the ER doctor called.

I couldn’t answer.

He called again, left a voice message "I have a few things to discuss with you".

He should have left a direct number for me to call him back, because when I tried, I ended up at the appointment line.

Whatever he had to discuss, I’m sure it’s not what I want to hear which is an answer as to why I continue to fade in/fade out ……… even as I’m typing this.

Hanky Panky?

Preparing to do my nails today. I removed my polish last night, saw that my nails needed smoothing and conditioning by a professional.

After having to give up my long-time pedicurist, because the male owners of the salon kept screwing up my appointments, last time I had professional work done was September of last year when one of Trainer’s female fighters recommended the "older, short, fat one" at a nearby salon and I ended up with Nora at 11:00.

Nora did a great job, it was worth the half hour I had to wait for my 11:00 appointment, but Nora was incredibly expensive ……… $100, plus I tipped $20 which I later calculated should have been $15.

At Nora’s prices, no way was I going to try to get an appointment with her today ……… would not have been able to anyway, as Nora is booked up weeks in advance.

I decided to try a salon over by the University that I knew took walk-ins.

Preparing to head out, I saw what I assumed was Next Door Neighbor’s son entering her unit, followed by a female.

Hmmmmm, what hanky panky is this?, thought I.

My mind went to hanky panky because out of the vault popped the memory of when my ex-husband’s married uncle would sometimes use our apartment during the day, when we were at work, with ex’s permission, for a hookup with his girlfriend.

Returning from the nail salon with a satisfactory shaping and conditioning, but less than satisfactory $60 paint job, plus $10 tip for manicurist, $10 tip for pedicurist, I could smell cigarette smoke coming from NDN’s unit as I walked up the stairs, saw the kitchen blinds were open and what appeared to be cooking going on.

It appears someone is now living in NDN’s unit for the time being.

NDN is not gonna like her unit smelling like cigarettes when she returns.

As for that less than perfect paint job …. when I sat down in the chair the Deluxe 1 was quoted as $38. I must have sat in the chair way longer than I thought because, once the work was done, the price of goods (nail polish) and services (manicurist/pedicurist) increased to $60.

It is what it is, so I didn’t make a big deal of the price increase — that’s not my style. I tipped, headed back to the complex and, on the way, noticed the paint already coming off the tip of the thumb nail and child-like paint job around the bed of the nail.

The manicurist's child-like paint job is repeated in the nail bed of every single nail.

Once upstairs, taking a good look at work done by the pedicurists, it's amateur ville there as well with paint on my skin.

I really don't want to have to pay Nora at 11:00's prices but, next time I need professional work done, I may have to.

Beastmode

Other than seeing Next Door Neighbor’s son going in/out of her unit yesterday and early this morning, nothing new to report.

With son's own family to care for, his two jobs and a wife that doesn’t like his mother, this taking care of his mom’s wants and needs has to be a heavy burden.

As of yet, no one has asked about NDN’s whereabouts. I don’t think anybody knows she’s not here, in her unit.

The only person likely to know she’s not and wonder about it is the Nice Old Guy upstairs across the quad. Let’s call him Mr. W.

The windows of Mr. W's unit are directly in line with NDN’s windows and, from the way he draws his blinds to allow for viewing, I’m sure he peeps her and probably watches me as well, but his vantage point only allows seeing me when I’m going up/down the stairs, entering/exiting the unit.

NDN and I are his television program, and he peeps us from two channels.

His favorite channel is the bedroom, where he can tune in early AM while still in bed.

Bedroom

During the day, he tunes in from his main room.

Main room

He’s old, nice, the grandfatherly type who struggles getting around with a cane, so I don’t think either of us minds the peeping and though his peeping isn't doing NDN any good right now, the peeping sometimes makes me feel comforted to know someone is watching and can call for help if he sees one of us fall on the stairs or get accosted at our doors.

NDN did intimate once that Mr. W had been a little flirty in an old fashion way ……… when they passed on the walkway and she asks how he’s doing, he’d said "Better now" with a sly grin.

I think she was flattered, but then she learned he used to be Church Lady’s special friend here on the complex, which made him look somewhat less harmless, just another player.

So, anyway, I’m sure Mr. W is wondering where NDN is and who is that man going in/out her unit. If we pass on the walkway, he will ask.

Because NDN is so private, I don’t know if she wants me telling folks she’s in the hospital. I’m not offering that information, but will be in a bind as to what to say if asked.

Yesterday was a false alarm and a waste of my time.

The notice posted to our doors a week or so ago, the same notice I pulled from Next Door Neighbor’s door on Monday, directed us to be prepared as early as 8 a.m. for "inspectors" to enter our units, test fire sprinklers.

I set the alarm for 6:00 to give me time to perform my morning rituals, be dressed and ready.

It was a False Alarm. No one showed up. I could have awakened at my regular time.

Red Light called a few days ago to tell me there was to be a "Health Fair and Bingo" in the Community Room, then tried to sell me on attending by saying the group coming in did bingo differently.

The event wasn't on the activity calendar, so how she, who is moving for certain on May 2nd, came to be privy to this information I do not know, but it appears she’s still involved in activities up to the very last.

Because I’d been noncommittal, Red Light sent me a text around 10:30, reminding me.

Inasmuch as the inspectors were nowhere in sight, I went downstairs to check out this health fair.

It was busy and noisy, with residents getting blood pressure and blood sugar checked. Raffle tickets were given out to those signing up to be cuffed and pricked.

I passed and pretty much just did a less than 5-minute walk thru — in one door and out the other when I saw nothing that interested me.

Returning to my unit, I did see Head Maintenance Guy escorting the inspector ……… not "inspectors" but one lone guy into the building across the grassy knoll.

Expecting the inspector would be escorted to my building soon, I waited and waited and waited and, but for the fact it was a one-day inspection, I’d be waiting still.

Like I said ……… false alarm, waste of my time.

Going beastmode this morning made up for yesterday’s inactivity.

The little Spanish lady that doesn’t speak much English ……… the lady with the disabled husband that I and others, who don’t speak Spanish worked at helping learn how to play bingo, had invited myself and the Talker to her Zumba fitness class.

Talker declined but I, even though Zumba is on the same days of the week as my workouts, decided to push myself and go beastmode — Zumba at 9:00, Pain Cave at 11:00.

It was an entire hour of high energy high impact movement, complete with disco strobe lights.

I thought I was going to die.

I was careful to not injure myself by jumping around, kept my movements within a manageable safe range but, even so, I sweated like a whore in church, felt dizzy at times and had to lean on a wall for support.

So, though it was tough getting up and out early for the class, and even though my favorite part was when the moderator would announce "One, two, three, stop" in between movements, and even though most of the music and spoken words were in a language I do not understand, and even though the sessions are on the same days as my Pain Cave workouts (M W F), I plan to go back, try to build up my stamina ……… and possibly my language skills.

20 Days Later

Life can literally turn on a dime.

I think it was Friday when I noticed the sign management attached to our doors the previous week — alerting us to Annual Fire Sprinkler Testing this morning, was still on Next Door Neighbor’s Door.

Hideously Tacky Doormat is deceiving
as to the artistry inside

Strange, thought I.

Though NDN is friendly, she's very private and pretty much doesn't hang too much with residents here and our activities. When she does go out and engage, it's usually elsewhere, with people and activities of a more bougie nature, away from us just plain folk types.

Her being such a private to herself person, it’s not unusual to not see or hear a peep out of her for extended periods of time.

So it was I didn’t think anything about having not seen her for days and weeks until Friday, when I realized the notice was still on her door.

That got me to thinking something might be wrong inside, because the notices always somehow disappear after a day or two …………… are taken inside by her I assume.

Thinking something might be wrong inside, but not yet alarmed, when I got up on Saturday, headed out to log in walking miles, I told myself to check the carport for Lucille ………… the name she’s given her car, because maybe NDN was on vacation.

Lucille was still parked in her usual spot.

That’s when I began thinking the worst ……… that she might be inside ……… deceased.

That has happened here.

Trying to talk myself out of that thought, I told myself if that were the case, us neighbors would have smelled something by now.

Sorry to be blunt, but I'm a realist.

Now alarmed, I started to knock on her door, but saw that her blinds were shut tight, like she’d gone somewhere after all, and I decided to give it another day or so — until yesterday morning for the notice to disappear.

It didn’t.

So while getting suited up for yesterday’s workout, now on full alert, I had it in mind to stop by the office, ask for a welfare check on NDN. But then it occurred to me that I might still have her telephone number in my contacts.

I did.

She answered on the first ring.

"Are you okay in there?" asked I.

"No, I’ve been in the hospital since the 2nd".

When she was unable to keep any food down, her son took her to the hospital where, whatever was wrong was made worse.

Not happy with the medical care, her son removed her, took her to another hospital where what had been made worse was made even worser.

Judging from my own medical center experiences, I believe it, which is why I’ve turned away from materia medica as much as possible and rely more on Holistic Care.

At any rate, NDN says she's in bad shape, hooked up to IVS, doesn’t know when she’s going to get better, and then oddly began talking about her plants and how they are inside her unit dying.

I don't have a key to her unit, otherwise I'd water her plants; and she tells me her son lives too far away and has two jobs, so he can't babysit the plants.

She then began asking me if the corner market delivers groceries, as she doesn’t see herself returning to the independence she previously enjoyed.

I assured her the market does, but then I opened my big mouth and said that I can pick up groceries for her when I do my own shopping.

I think she set me up ………… brought it up knowing I'd volunteer.

But whatever ……… it’s not a big deal, and I can opt out if it ever does become a big deal.

NDN was evasive when I inquired, more than once, as to what exactly is wrong with her.

If she wants me to pick up and deliver groceries, bring up mail, that's carrying Hippa and being private a little too far, because I don't want to risk catching whatever she's privately keeping to herself.

Looking like a big deal already, unless she can give me some assurance as to risk, I may have to withdraw my offer, tell her to let the delivery people handle it after all.

Just think though ………… how quickly life can turn on a dime, a healthy today is not promised for tomorrow; and I’ve seen it more than once around here where one day a resident is living an independent lifestyle, the next day the resident has a caregiver.

NDN has been in the hospital for 20 days and, but for that notice on her door, I'd still be unaware something might be wrong and sound the alarm to have her checked on.

Because I too pretty much keep to myself, don't engage with family all that often, I used to wonder how long it would be before anyone realized something has happened and send in the calvary. Now that I train religiously, arrive on time and have done so every M W F for the last five years, Trainer is actually closer to me and more concerned about me than family. If I were 5 minutes late, he'd be on high alert. Otherwise, I’d be completely decomposed and smelling up the complex before anyone noticed.

Earth Day

Knock Knock Knock

As if I don’t have enough on my plate, I walked into the bedroom yesterday afternoon to switch outfits after having run errands and …………… so much on my plate that I’ve been incorrectly referring to Twin 2 as the daughter who is estranged from her adult children.

Twin 2 has no children — she devoted her energies to helping me step in for her twin’s kids when their mom (Twin 1) was in her prodigal experience ……………… not financially and/or emotional there for the kids.

It's Twin 1 whose heart is breaking at not being able to turn back time, make amends for bad parenting choices.

She’s given the moniker Twin 1 because she came out of the womb first, five minutes ahead of her sister, Twin 2.

I’ve made what corrections I could find to recent posts misidentifying which twin is which, but no surprise I misidentified the twins as I’ve been walking around like a zombie last few days with the family’s dramarama clogging my brain (thanks for that word Karen), but as I was saying ……………… I walked into the bedroom yesterday afternoon to switch outfits after having run errands when, through the bedroom window I spied the Talker’s disabled brother sitting on the bench outside, along with two fit looking guys.

Oh! Oh!, thought I. That looks like my Little Stalker’s uncles and if they’re here on the premises, then she is as well.

Sure enough, there was a knock knock knock on the door shortly after.

Little Stalker said she’d not been around because of school, but that she’ll be visiting me again soon with another bear to babysit.

No way José, I said to myself. Another bear would be her manipulating me into creating another book — like the one I made back in 2023 when she dumped a bear on me.

I told her I can’t handle babysitting duties right now that, if she left another bear, I’d have to charge her for babysitting, and I hurried her away with a bag of See’s chocolate eggs.

My last visit to See’s, just before Easter, the clerk had tossed a handful of those eggs in my bag. Knowing eventually Little Stalker would resurface, I’d saved them in the freezer for her.

Little Stalker’s grandma has an upstairs unit; consequently, is one of the few residents who can climb stairs, get to my unit, so she was standing there with Little Stalker when I begged off babysitting another bear.

Hopefully, grandma understood the message and will hold Little Stalker back from burdening me with another.

Earlier that morning, I ran out of a needlepoint floss color and had to make a run to the craft store.

Checking out, the cashier asked, "Would you be interested in signing up for a credit card?"

"No thanks".

"You can save x number of dollars on today’s purchase".

"No thanks".

Then she tried to interest me in a Rewards program and some other something.

"No thanks, No thanks, No thanks".

I know she was only doing what her supervisor asked her to do ………… push these things onto customers, but how many times can one say "No thanks" before going off?

Fortunately, I maintained, was polite and firm with my no's, even though she was making a pest of herself and made me forget to use my coupons.

Since I was in the area of the Tire Place, I popped in to get the tire pressure checked, where the kid on the air station also tried to play me the fool.

I’m sure he’d too had been told to do so by his supervisors …………… If a woman comes in, take advantage of her, turn the free air service into her paying for other services, because he told me I needed to replace the back wiper blade ($20) and have the lug nuts replaced ($80).

Bullcrap, thought I.

I’d just last week taken the car into the dealership for its annual multi-point inspection, and the invoice made no mention of needing a back wiper blade and lug nuts replaced.

So, either the kid at the tire place is fibbing or the dealership is fibbing, or both are lying.

I purchased the Jeep in 2018, have logged in only 15,500 miles. So with so little driving, and definitely not overusing the wiper blades because I don’t drive in the rain, I seriously doubt the blades or lug nuts need changing out; consequently, the tire place is jerking my chain.

On the other hand, because the Jeep came with the last Lifetime Warranty Jeep offered on parts and labor, it is within the realms of possibility the dealership doesn’t want to bother with services for which they will not be able to charge me, so made no mention of either.

Can’t trust anybody anywhere these days, so I googled and learned "Depending on the type of vehicle it is and the age, the lug nuts may need to be replaced anywhere between five and 15 years; As a good rule of thumb, a vehicle's wiper blades will last six to 9 months".

I might pop into the dealership, get the blades changed, but I’m not worried about the lug nuts and wish folks would realize I may be of the elder generation, but that doesn’t mean I’m gullible, and they can run any old game on me.

Meanwhile

Life goes on around the complex, and elsewhere in the world, as I kept thinking thinking thinking of the best way to approach the monkey wrench thrown into next month’s visit to Long Beach or ways around it.

What I've decided is to skip Day 1 of the Festival altogether, so I can enjoy alone time with the babies before the Party. Tell Twin 1 Saturday's a bust because of the Party, that I can stop by her place, spend time with her on Friday, before I check into the hotel, then early breakfast on Sunday, watch the Parade, go together to Day 2 of the Festival.

When that solution popped into my head, the thinking thinking thinking stopped.

Heading out for yesterday morning’s workout, I noticed TinTin had finally removed the dresser drawer from her patio.

How did I miss that?

I was here, inside, all weekend, heard nothing that sounded like furniture being moved.

I checked the dumpster on my way to the car, didn’t see it, so what did she do with it?

Did she move it inside?

What finally prompted her to remove it was probably management getting into trouble with the Inspectors when they (the Inspectors) were on the premises last Thursday doing whatever it is they do.

I didn’t stick around for the Inspection. I used that day to get the Jeep serviced. So, no idea if my unit was inspected.

Returning from the Cave yesterday morning, I ran into the Talker who tells me Not Dead Nancy’s unit was inspected.

Inasmuch as Nancy has been in the hospital for over two months, and her estranged daughters (another dysfunctional family situation) have been going in taking things …… according to Nancy’s next-door neighbor, no telling what the Inspectors found inside that somewhat abandoned unit.

Other than that, I’ve no idea which units were inspected. Only that TinTin moved the dresser from the patio …… after-the-fact, which indicates she probably received a long overdue Lease Violation.

News coming out of the Hush Trial is that Mr. Docket No. 71543 fell asleep during jury selection yesterday.

Social media comments, as was expected, have been brutal ………

Last week's kitchen adventure was Fried Boiled Eggs. I tried various recipes, different spices, had Fried Boiled Eggs for breakfast, lunch, dinner before I moved on.

This week's kitchen adventure is Cabbage Soup, ala Mistress Maddie's recipe.

It was delish and filling with old-fashioned Hot Water Cornbread on the side.

Thanks for the recipe Mistress.

Oy Vey!!!!

So my life just became more complicated.

Long Beach Pride Festival begins Saturday, May 18, 11 am, continues through Sunday, after the Parade.

I’ve got my hotel booked and a lineup of cool t-shirts to wear.

A few weeks back, Twin 1 indicated she wanted to spend time with me, would arrange her schedule to stop by here ……… the senior complex; but when I told her I’d be in Long Beach for Pride, she said she’d join me in that adventure instead.

"Cool" said I, but now my cup runneth over because I’ve recently been invited to attend the Great Grandson’s 2nd Birthday Party, Saturday, May 18, 2 pm ……… same day as Pride, right smack dab in the middle of the time I’d planned to be on the Marina Green, attending the festival with Twin 1.

One would think that ordinarily this would not be a problem. The easy solution is for the two of us to leave the Festival just before 2 o’clock, head for the Birthday Party, return to the Festival after, but one would be wrong because one doesn’t understand the dynamics of my seriously dysfunctional family.

Twin 1 (the baby’s Glam-ma) was totally self-involved during the years she was to have parented her children, resulting in her now no longer having a relationship with any of her five adult children.

A few years ago, she reached the level of enlightenment where she realized how she emotionally hurt and damaged her children, whereupon there was apologizing, followed by spurts of forgiveness and reconciliation, but sometimes the trauma one has caused in the life of others goes so deep that it can’t be undone.

The clock ultimately could not be unwound — forgiveness and reconciliation did not last.

As things stand now, Twin 1’s children are going on with living their lives not wanting her in it. Carrying a boatload of guilt, not able to forgive her own self, Twin 1 has turned to clearing her conscious by doing for the homeless community (her street children) what she failed to do for her own.

As for me, I’ve been put through the ringer by nearly every damn family member there was and is. However, understanding that everything in life (good and bad) happens for a reason, I’ve managed to not internalize what I’ve experienced. I harbor no ill will, let everyone live their own lives the way they feel fit, respect how they choose to interact or not interact with each other, touch base now and then, but remain careful to protect myself, maintain an emotional distance, not get too attached.

So, I’m definitely going to the baby’s birthday party but I’m trying to figure out how I can leave Twin 1 at the Festival, head to the party without it being a hurtful reminder that she’s not allowed to see the grandbabies ………… Is not invited.

She’s frequently in tears as it is thinking about how she screwed up, can't undo and can’t be forgiven. She wouldn’t expect me not to go, and I wouldn’t not go anyway, but I’m fearing how her knowing there is even a party and she not being allowed to go is going to twist the knife in even more than it already is.

I’m thinking, I should probably just let her know now, in advance, this would be happening, so she has time to process, cry it out, has the option to bow out of spending time with me altogether if she can’t handle my leaving her alone at the Festival, or give her time to make arrangements for a third or fourth person to attend the festival with us so she’ll be supported through the hurt and can continue having fun once I take off for the party.

Oy Vey!!!! The whole situation makes my heart hurt, and is sending me to that See's candy I have stored in the fridge.

All in all, it's a tragic reminder of how we create our own reality or, like I've often put it, "You make your choices, you live with the choices you make".

BTW, White Grandma will also not be in attendance. In fact, she’s been so toxic, done so much backbiting, created so much stress and drama for the kids, that she’s earned herself an actual uninvite ……………… been specifically told it's the end of the line "We do not want you here".

However, it wouldn’t surprise me to see White Grandma waltz her arse in just the same.

In other news, barring any last minute scrambling, tomorrow is jury selection for No. 45’s hush money criminal trial.

Shame it’s not being televised. If it were, I’d not be working out tomorrow. I’d be glued to the tube just like I was during O.J.’s trial.

On the other hand, I’m not feeling good about this trial, not hopeful that it will finally lead to our being rid of him once and for all, but I will wear my lock him up t-shirt tomorrow for luck.

What a Week!

I’m beginning to think Catalyst’s comment on my last post "Eclipse, Schmeclipse, who cares anyway. It only means the Apocalypse is getting close" is right on, because so much has happened in the world this week.

Last weekend’s rain ………… third weekend in a row we had rain to deal with, plus rain expected this weekend, not to mention the up and down weather during the week of freezing cold one day, 90 degree heat the next, had me not feeling my best as I fought off an ear infection and sore throat.

Along with the up and down weather, there was the Eclipse, sentencing of the Goon Squad Cops that tortured two Black men in Mississippi, news that Paul Flores (purported unaliver of Kirsten Smart) had been knifed in prison for the second time and, lastly, ta ta so long to O.J. Simpson.

That was a lot for one week.

If you’re unfamiliar with the Goon Squad, it consists of six white Mississippi cops (Brett Morris McAlpin, 53; Christian Dedmon, 29; Jeffrey Middleton, 46; Hunter Elward, 31; and Daniel Opdyke, 28 and a former police officer from the city of Richland, Joshua Hartfield, 32).

A white neighbor took exception with mixing of races and reported seeing two Black men (Michael Corey Jenkins and Eddie Terrell Parker) living with a white woman.

Not illegal in this year of 2024 but hey, it’s Mississippi.

At any rate, the cops illegally entered the home, kicked, waterboarded, shouted racial slurs, assaulted Jenkins and Parker with stun guns and a sex toy, then Elward shot Jenkins in the mouth.

Their vicious acts were then covered up by planting drugs and having Jenkins and Parker arrested.

With McAlpin and Middleton threatening to kill the other officers if they spoke up, those false charges stood for months until pressure mounting from a Justice Department civil rights probe caused one of the six to break rank and spill the beans.

This week was the Day of Reconning for the six.

Jeffrey Middleton 46, Daniel Opdyke 28, Hunter Elward 31,
Brett McAlpin 53, Christian Dedmon 29, Joshua Hartfield 32

I’d have liked to have seen the neighbor that set this whole thing in motion charged for something ……… anything, but what I don’t get is why can’t people with this kind of bias hatred just stop?

You want to hurt someone because you don't like the color of their skin, you don't like them mixing with other races, you don't want them as your neighbor, you hate for whatever reason, and you act out on that hate. People are harmed, people are unalived but, inasmuch as 9 out of 10 times you are caught, called out, imprisoned, your own reputation gone, life in tatters, so what purpose did it serve to act out on your hatred?

It just boggles my mind that folks can’t live their own lives, leave others alone.

Also of note this week was the Eclipse (Partial in my neck of the woods).

After reading reports of those who experienced the Total, I’m jealous and wishing I were more the adventurous type as I could travel to Spain to view the projected 2027 Total.

In the meantime …..

My Kinda Eclipse with Guacamole

As for Paul Flores, second time in a row he's been knifed while under protective care, so I don’t think he’s going to survive much longer in prison. He should probably just tell what he did with Kirsten’s body.

Speaking of telling, the least noteworthy event this week, on my scale, was the passing of O.J. Simpson without clearing his conscious and confessing.

No surprise though that he was a liar to the end as he’d lied at reports of his health not being well, saying his health was good just before that was proved a lie by his demise.

He always reminded me of my abusive egomaniac ex. He too could never accept responsibility for his actions.

In fact, when the ex learned he had six-months to live, something in him, possibly conscious, prompted him to call, give me the news.

As if I cared.

But my humanity took over and I offered forgiveness, saying "I hold no ill will for anything".

His reply was to get pompous, arrogant, "I? I did nothing."

Okay, I thought to myself, You tell that to St. Peter at the gate that torturing, abusing women was nothing. Then, after he passed away, I guess reality hit because there were visitations ... many visitations with he begging for forgiveness.

By then, my heart had hardened. All I could think of was his saying "I? I did nothing", so I told him forgiveness had been offered, he'd gotten his usual arrogant self, now it was too late, so F off and go straight to hell. (Yes, I spoke to a dead person).

After a time he did. I'm assuming both the F'ing off and going to Haydes.

One interesting thing I ran across in reading comments about O.J. was that thousands of Ford Broncos (the car made famous by the 1994 slow speed police chase) were recalled the same day he passed away.

Though the recall had nothing to do with his death, but involved possible cracked fuel injectors that could cause a fire, comments were "They both ran out of gas".

Odd that the recall happened the day he passed away and, inasmuch as I don't believe in coincidences your guess as to its cosmic meaning is as good as mine.