Wednesday, July 31, 2024

The Wait is Over

According to the "30-Day Notice to Change the Terms of your Rental Agreement" posted to my door yesterday, the rent increase I’ve been dreading jumps to an additional $81 beginning September 1.

Considering the level of greed other rental communities have been experiencing, and the fact the County received a $500 increase, for those they support on the complex back in November, $81 isn’t bad.

Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, I can't help but wonder if that FBI Raid on Cortland Management/Real Page over algorithmic price-fixing collusion to raise rents nationwide, I blogged about last month, caused Corporate to tread carefully, keep the increase within a reasonable range.

In other news, logging onto TikTok yesterday evening, I find I’ve 38 followers.

Interesting, especially since there’s nothing to see there, nothing in my profile — no videos, no content whatsoever. I’m just a lurker.

My sick sense of humor is especially fond of watching funny scare pranks.

So, with nothing to see there and no plans to be anything other than a lurker, I cannot but wonder …… why are people following me?

To top it off, I noticed one of the 38 is White Grandma (granddaughter’s mother in law).

First of all, I’m impressed White Grandma (WG) even knows about TikTok, knew how to log on and follow.

Second of all, WG is not someone you want following you on social media, knowing anything about where you go, what you do with your life.

Not the most pleasant human being — critical, judgmental, it’s all about her privileged Karen type, WG has caused so much distress for the kids (granddaughter and grandson-in-law), that she initially got herself banned from my great-grandson’s (her grandson’s) 2-year birthday party back in May.

After an intervention where the kids explained to WG what is and what is not acceptable behavior if she wants to be a part of their life, WG was reinvited to the party where she was warm and comfortable to be around.

But I ain’t trusting the intervention to take.

You know the adages ……… can’t teach an old dog new tricks, once a snake always a snake, buyer beware; so I would block her on TikTok, as I did when, some time ago, I became aware she was following me on Instagram, but inasmuch as there’s nothing to see there on TikTok, she can continue to waste her time following me to her heart’s content.

Monday, July 29, 2024

One Job, Four Years to Get 'Er Done

The extensive heat mellowed a little today. Instead of over 100°, we stabilized around 95°. However, the tradeoff for less heat was another earthquake.


By the time the shake rattle roll reached us, it was so mild that, but for the fact the dishes began rattling, I’d have not even noticed.

Earlier today, headed for the morning workout, I ran into the next-door neighbor of Not Dead Nancy.

Having previously heard from others that Nancy was back from months in the hospital, but not seeing her myself, I sought to verify Nancy’s status by asking her neighbor, "Did Nancy ever come back?"

"I don’t even know if she’s there or not", said she; and went on to say "They brought her back, and then they took her back. Her daughter was supposed to come help her other daughter take care of her and she didn’t. She never came. And her daughter, she’s a nurse, said I can’t be here all day. She wanted for me to come do it, but I can’t do it. So, I don’t know if she’s there".

That’s sad that one of Nancy’s daughters wants no part of caring for her ailing mother. The other daughter seems to care but, with being employed as a nurse, can’t be a fulltime caregiver for her mom.

I guess Nancy can’t afford to contract a caregiver, and as to why the nurse daughter doesn’t just move Nancy in with her and her family, who knows. But it’s pretty nervy to ask a neighbor to take responsibility for their mother’s care. So, I’m guessing Nancy’s next-door neighbor doesn’t know if Nancy is in there or not because she’s no longer checking for fear of having the job of caregiver dumped on her.

I don’t know what exactly is ailing Nancy, but I’m sorry she is having such a hard time of it, not going gently into that good night, but I can’t blame her next-door neighbor for not wanting to get involved. I wouldn’t want that responsibility for someone I’m not related to either.

In other news, I couldn’t get excited about the Olympics this time around and, seeing reports of bad food for the Olympians, so bad that they’re flying in their own chefs; bad living quarters, cheating scandals, Olympians and coaches and broadcasters leaving and/or being asked to leave, a disappointing Opening Ceremony, including introducing the South Korean team as North Korea, events cancelled for one reason or another, so on and so forth, it seems I made the right choice in not getting excited.

Paris had one job .... prepare and four years to do it but, from what I gather, it’s a cluster you know what.

I expect, when all is said and done, heads will roll.

Sunday, July 28, 2024

Nighttime is Scary

Realizing I’ve not run into Compton and Gandalf’s mom in some time, I checked the camera footage back to the day I set it up, July 9, and find mom (Ms. Neighbor) is not showing up as still living here. She’s made an appearance, checked in a time or two since, but seems to be residing elsewhere — maybe with her daughter, maybe with a boyfriend.

My mom did something similar when three of my four brothers, still in their teens, lived with her in a one-bedroom apartment, and began wearing her down.

I was out at my own at the time, dealing with learning, growing and that cop I married.

My brother Johnny, four/five years younger than I was likewise also out on his own, starting a family when mom found herself a boyfriend — Morris, the man who would eventually become my stepfather, and escaped the boys by moving in with Morris.

My sister, a few years younger than Johnny, was also out on her own.

Mom paid the rent and utilities on the apartment, where resided the twins and my youngest brother; provided groceries, but never actually lived there while the boys finished school, did whatever it is teen boys do.

When mom married Morris and they bought a house, the three boys eventually made their way to living in the house with mom and Morris.

I don’t know all the details, but think it safe to assume Morris and mom could not afford both a house payment and the apartment for the boys.

My youngest brother finished school, worked through his teen angst, got out on his own, eventually bought his own home, started a family, worked for an oil company.

That left my twin brothers for mom and Morris to deal with.

The twins remind me of Compton and Gandalf — Compton appears to be working as nighttime security, Gandalf hangs around ………… one of my twin brothers worked menial jobs as a shoe salesman, the other lounged around, never held a job.

Neither twin ever left home. Never got out of the neighborhood. Never lived on their own, away from mom.

The last time I ran into Ms. Neighbor she’d changed her style — wore braids the entire time I’ve known her to live here, but had suddenly taken her braids out, was sporting a press and curl.

That kind of change translates boyfriend, rather than living with daughter, but either way, it’s still a lease violation for the boys to be here, in a senior complex — with or without her.

While reviewing prior camera footage, looking for the last time I actually captured Ms. Neighbor on camera, I saw two things I really wish I hadn’t seen.

Please watch this next video to end, tell me if it's as spooky to you as it is to me.


I’d like to convince myself this was just a cat, but what’s scaring me is knowing cats don't shimmy up walls like whatever this blur is did.

And for sure, whatever beast this is, it’s not a cat.


What with TinTin’s window coverings and Gandalf’s nighttime ritual, which he has now moved to daylight hours as well, things are weird around here, but nighttime is full on scary.

Friday, July 26, 2024

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

Another week has come and gone with no outrageous tales of the complex to report. It appears the excessive heat has taken the spit and vinegar out of us. I know it’s taking a toll on me.

But for the fact I’m committed to working out with Trainer three days a week, I’d not leave my unit until summer is over. I’d have groceries delivered and let errands that take me outside fall by the wayside.

I’m doing my best to avoid keeping up with what’s going on in the political scene. My goal is to stay in the moment, remain calm by focusing on the now moment, cast my vote when the time comes and be done with it, rather than obsess and worry on a daily basis until then. However, there are occasions when something political jump up and grab me by surprise before I can look away.

Such was the case when Painted Rock Lady (PRL — the the sweet old lady who brightens the complex up with rocks she hand paints) began spouting cruelties about Joe’s age on Facebook.

A lot of nerves, thought I, inasmuch as she’s no spring chicken herself — pushing herself around on a walker, strapped as she is to breathing equipment.

Surprised me it did to learn PRL is part of the cult, but everyone is entitled to their own opinion so I refrained from reacting to her posts; EXCEPT, her cruel words caused me to view her in a different light.

Suffice it to say, she will not be my plus-one at this year’s Breakfast with Santa as she was last year, and that was that.

UNTIL, PRL yesterday crossed the line by posting a prayer for Old Diaper Ear — beseeching/bothering God with "protecting him from his enemies".

That got some push back ………

One person commented "PROTECT THE DEVIL?!... LOL".

Another commented "Bull 💩".

PRL countered with "Just praying that the Lord keeps him safe. If you don’t agree with my post than you are not a Christian. I will pray for you as well".

Wowza!

Of course that brought up a counter comment to her counter "So what your saying is a Christian goes around raping and molesting minors... incites violence in his country he "loves" so much! Commits fraud and infidelity in his marriage. I could keep going but sorry that's NOT CHRISTIAN... we must be reading from 2 different Bibles!".

Good one, but PRL managed to counter the counter comment to her counter with, "Are you so perfect that you don’t need prayers? What minors has he molested and raped? (I guess PRL forgot about the underage girl(s) allegedly provided to him by Epstein) I will not change your mind and I am not trying to. Just pointing out that it was a prayer. I guess you don’t deserve it either but that would not be very Christian of me. So I will pray for you as well".

I gotta give it to PRL. She's holding her own, but now I'm invested and itching to add my two cents, stand up for the "not a Christian", so I shut her down with something I was certain would piss her off, especially since it was coming from me.


What PRL’s posted


A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words


I wasn't expecting her to comment on what I'd posted, and she didn't. But no doubt she's "praying" for me LOL, and is now no less interested in being my plus-one this year as I am in having her.

Other than that, in checking the camera when I awake in the morning, finding nothing I need concern myself about but seeing Compton’s brother step outside this morning at 12:16 a.m., 1:42 a.m., 2:13 a.m., 3:26 a.m., 4:22 a.m., walk to the end of the stairway and no further, just get to that point, look to his left, then turn and go back inside, I decided to give brother the blog name of Gandalf, because his standing at the edge reminded me of Lord of the Rings Gandalf, who so famously said "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!".

Lastly, something told me to take the pad hanging from the ear of the voodoo doll, wrap it from his uninjured ear, across his face, to cover his mouth so he can no longer speak.

You can thank me later if Old Diaper Ear suddenly loses his voice.

Monday, July 22, 2024

Oh Brother! Then There Were Two

Last week’s peace calm quiet extended through the weekend. No little knock knock knock at my door, no annoyances from Compton — which may be because I’ve not been outside to see/be seen, and the new window camera has caught him doing nothing suspicious.

Nothing "suspicious", but it is weird that he’s so active in the wee morning hours — going out when there is absolutely nowhere to go, nothing to do anywhere near this area; sometimes he steps out, stands at the edge of the stairwell doing nothing, just looking, surveying the area when there is nothing to see during those early hours.

Weird, but so long as he’s not bothering me, no longer thinking of me in terms of a MILF, I’m good with whatever else.

I was surprised that the camera footage showed it’s not just Compton living with his mom, it’s also his brother.

It was either Red Light or Next Door Neighbor who, a long long time ago, told me both sons were living with mom (Ms. Neighbor on the blog because she once gave me a Christmas Card and instead of simply writing her name added a Ms. in front of her name, which I thought presumptious. Not to mention, if you want to get jiggy with it, since it’s obvious I’m older than she, I should be the one addressed with a Ms. in front of my name). But, as I was saying, it was either Red Light or Next Door Neighbor who’d said both sons were living in that tiny one-bedroom unit with their mom.

At the time, the info went in one ear out the other because I didn’t care and, inasmuch as I'd never seen the other brother, I wasn't sure that rumor was true.

I'm now realizing I have seen the other brother, but the two look so much alike (twins maybe) that I didn’t realize it was two different sons I sometimes saw, thought it was Compton walking around without his ever present cap on; and even seeing them go in/out on the camera, I still didn’t realize it was two separate beings until I saw Compton leave, his brother step outside two/three minutes later and then, yesterday morning, seeing both of them together around 4:30 am.

I’m fairly certain the brother does not work. He rarely even steps outside and doesn’t seem to go any further than the edge of the stairway, watch Compton leave.

It’s understandable families have been forced to squad up in these difficult financial times, help each other, and I am a bit envious I don't have a family that helps each other, but this is a senior community and the estimated 597 Sq. Ft. units we’ve been allotted is barely enough space for just myself, my crafts and exercise equipment, so I can’t imagine what that unit looks like inside with two grown-ass men living with their mom.

Where do they all sleep … hang their clothes … store their body essentials?

It must be a mess down there.

Speaking of mess. I had planned to shampoo the carpet this weekend, ended up not only not shampooing but not vacuuming with plans not to vacuum for however long it took me to find my favorite tapestry needle.

On Saturday, I’d been working on that never ending needlepoint project, begun in June of ’21 with still no end in sight, when my favorite needle vanished from my fingers.

I had it one moment, the next moment it was gone and no amount of checking every nook and cranny of the canvas or crawling around on the carpet located it.

I have other tapestry needles, but that particular needle was my favorite; we’d completed many projects together, so I had no plans to shampoo or even vacuum the carpet until the needle was located, as it would have hated to hear the sound of it being sucked up by the Dyson.

Yesterday morning, when I wasn’t even thinking about looking for the needle, just knowing it would show up eventually, the light drew my attention to something shiny on the carpet.

I looked down, gasped out loud and said "There it is!"

My Precious

How the needle got so far from the canvas is a mystery — maybe stuck to my clothes and fell off when I got up to look for it, but vacuuming is back on and maybe I’ll get around to shampooing this next weekend.

When I logged into Facebook yesterday morning to play Candy Crush, I was first met with a question.


Expecting to find I was committing a fashion sin by wearing the trendy shredded denim shorts, I was ROFLMAO when I read ……

• Maxi pads on the right ear.
• Maxipad Ear covers.
• Red caps accessorized by gauze on one ear, the new swastika armband.
• Maxi pads on the ear tinged with orange foundation.
• Red hats, Ear Pads and cruddy Toupees.
• Red caps and Kotex ear bandages.
• Panty Liners as fashion accessory.
• Maxipads in places they don't belong.
• Maxipad on your ear when a butterfly bandaid would work.
• A mini pad hanging off your ear.
• Ear diapers.
• Performative bandages on completely uninjured ears.
• Ear patch
• Deer tagging own ear.

ROFLMAO! I can’t with these people 🤣

The previous day, before I even saw this question/answer posting, I'd made changes to the voodoo doll to reenforce the bad juju.

Thursday, July 18, 2024

What If

Believe it or not, I’ve got nothing.

This past week has been the quietest most serene week I’ve experienced in ages.

That may be because, other than Trainer, I’ve not seen nor spoken to another individual. I also stopped watching the news, because all the political stuff was causing me to become depressed, worried, demoralized.

I’m just gonna trust the Universe, prepare myself emotionally for the worst possible outcome in November, lay low until then, keep my thoughts on it all to myself because I don’t want or need the Secret Service coming after me.

Except, I will say that inasmuch as I am not keeping up with the news, Trainer has all of a sudden taken an interest in the news and tells me the female agents are being bashed because they did not respond appropriately/quick enough.

He tells me the scuttlebutt is the females failed because, instead of the females being required to meet the same standards as the male agents in the hiring process, the standards of the position had been lowered for the females.

I don’t know how true that is, but I told Trainer the females might have hesitated because they really didn’t want to touch his body with theirs, and can you blame them because he’s so icky.

Halfway through six seasons of the Peaky Blinders on Netflix, watching how Tommy Shelby is being used and abused by those involved in the British government’s espionage program, I got all conspiracy theory Tom Clancy like and said to Trainer what if ………… what if you know who was not the target. What if the event was used as a smokescreen to take someone else out because everyone would think he was the target when, in reality, he just got in the way.

Thursday, July 11, 2024

Paint Party

I was spared any interactions with Compton yesterday — did not see him hanging out in the car and, insofar as I know, he did not see me.

However, because I’ve the security cam in the window now, I did learn I was incorrect in thinking he does not work.

I got an alert that someone was within camera range around 6:30 yesterday evening, saw it was he heading out, dressed like a security guard.

I’m beginning to see a pattern here, a theme. It seems that every man I’ve lately found annoying has been a security guard; and this one wasn't initially obvious by wearing of the uniform, yet and still pushed my buttons.

I’m assuming Compton works nights.

After his mother became bored with being retired, she got into the same line of work and, inasmuch as she presents very well, she probably got him the job.

In other news, I made it down to the Community Room on Tuesday, to check out what the new Activity Director had to offer by way of Arts and Crafts. Turned out to be pre-printed canvases with ready to print designs.

Painting is a craft I’m not good at, but I gave it a go.



Only 8 residents showed up — 7 of us regulars and a new resident with only two weeks in.

I’m going to call this new resident "Name Dropper" because she was quick to drop the name John Travolta.

Evidentially her granddaughter is an actress. She recounted granddaughter’s filmography — named films and TV shows I wasn’t familiar with, and how, when granddaughter was a child actress, she (Name Dropper) had been on set when granddaughter had a role with Travolta in Phenomenon.

BFD.

Catching up on all the who what whys, I learned Upstairs Lady (resident with the troublesome legs) had taken Di (Apache’s old friend, the resident that had been involved with Meat Man’s son — he in his mid to late 20’s, she her 60’s) had been taken to the medical office across the street when her blood pressure reached 200.

That she (Upstairs Lady) is "Tired of babysitting Di" …… urging her to take the medication she doesn’t want to take because she doesn’t believe in taking meds …… giving her calls and sending texts to make sure she’s okay …… urging her to get out …… keeping her informed of activities because she (Di) won’t read the activity calendar and though no one has seen Di in a while, she isn’t checking on her any further because "I’m tired of babysitting her. I’ve got my own problems".

Not Dead Nancy is reported as back from many months of hospitalization.

When last mentioned on the blog, Not Dead Nancy’s daughters were going into the unit removing things, which concerned Nancy’s neighbors as they did not know if the girls had permission to do so while NDN was hospitalized and questions arose that NDN might not be coming back.

The ones that have actually seen NDN said she’s "lost a ton of weight" but, inasmuch as she wasn’t big or overweight to begin with, that doesn’t sound good.

Conversation inevitably turned to Shadow’s passing and how, as a regular attendee at bingo and other events, not to mention an all-around likeable guy, he is missed and what Bicycle Boy did to Shadow’s shrine.

"The office has a stack of complaints made against him (BB) this thick", said the Baker demonstrating "this" by holding up fingers measuring about three inches apart.

I’m not surprised by the complaints. Nor am I surprised that complaints were undoubtedly made to all the various Complex Managers we’ve had over the years, and not one has acted on them.

When BB and Apache were at each other, management chose BB’s side when there had been no complaints by residents against Apache.

Some at the table had not heard of Head Maintenance Guy’s transferring to a different property.

None at the table were sorry to hear he’d gone or had anything positive to say about HMG’s maintenance skills and abilities.

You, Paranormal John, will appreciate this next update.

Hell on Wheels was in attendance at the paint party, accompanied by her latest Caregivers.

I say latest, because HOW, described as "difficult", has gone through more Caregivers than we've gone through Complex Managers — her Caregivers keep quitting.

It was said that one caregiver reached a point where she couldn’t take it a second longer that day, left HOW alone, hid out in the Community Room, head in her hands, moaning "THAT WOMAN!".

We’ll see how long this new caregiver can take it.

And that, as they say, is The Tea.

Tuesday, July 9, 2024

Curiouser and Curiouser

Red Light never posted photos from her birthday party. However, that day last week when I went outside to chat with Talker, I learned Talker did go to the party, took Elvis (my buddy Apache’s remaining friend here on the complex) and one other resident with her.

It was just those three in attendance and the party was described as "okay", said in a way that translated to sad/meh.

Probably why Red Light posted nothing on Facebook.

Talker described Red Light’s new community as "boring" …… the complex itself, the way the buildings are arranged …… "boring".

Evidently, the grass is not greener on the other side.

Talker says Red Light’s unit is really spacious/luxurious inside (it should be at $2,300 a month, paid for by the County), but once you step out the door all you see are rows of one-story units across from each other with a walkway between, nothing else; which Talker compared to here, where there’s space to walk around, as "boring".

Doesn’t sound like the kind of community where Red Light can spread her activity director wings, take charge, get anything going, boss others around.

From the number of people she invited, who rsvp’d couldn't make it, I’m getting the distinct impression Red Light is already bored, missing the community she had here. I wonder if she might one-day return, as many have done in the past.

I’ve often had that thought — that should I be so fortunate as to one day be able to afford to live elsewhere, would I end up bored to tears confined in one of those wall enclosed box-like senior complexes built like hotels with long corridors, or a complex like the one described by Talker — confined in luxury, somewhat isolated, not knowing my neighbors.

Though some of the goings on right now are not ideal, I like my unit, I like my patio, I like the complex grounds, I like the options I have for contact with others, never feel lonely or bored.

Monday was cra cra. Started off with seeing Compton once again parked backwards in his parking spot, facing forward towards the walkway when I headed out for that morning’s workout.

From there, the day got weird when, returning prepared to take the long way around to my unit, I pivoted to my direct route when I saw Bicycle Boy (BB) coming through the gate this side of the complex.

BB lives way on the other side, so seeing him come through the gate on this side prompted me to take notice.

He’d been on this side shortly after Shadow passed, and a resident in Shadow’s quad said she watched as BB had angrily destroyed the shrine they’d left for Shadow — took the glass rosary candle, smashed it on the concrete, tossed the flowers.

My guess is Shadow’s not being the type to take crap had been the one person on the complex BB could not terrorize. Shadow had probably put the fear of God in BB so, now that word had gotten to him that Shadow was no longer alive, BB came all the way over here to make sure Shadow was gone, saw the shrine, took out the rage he felt toward Shadow that he didn’t dare express while Shadow was alive — a "Take That ……… I’ll Show You!" thing.

Not wanting to be targeted by BB herself, the resident who saw BB doing the destruction said nothing to him. Just hid away in her unit, watched and next day rebuilt the shrine.

I would have hidden and watched as well; but seeing BB on this side of the complex, I paused at the end of the walkway to see if he was headed in the direction of the rebuilt shrine.

He wasn’t.

Compton must have been sitting in his car watching me watch BB because, when I paused, Compton cranked the engine, started the car to make noise, draw my attention in his direction.

He did not start the car and drive away. He just turned on the engine, then turned it off when I failed to look over, did not react to the sound.

The day got weirder still when I later had to make a run to Walmart to get a memory card for the security camera I was installing in the widow. Compton, still sitting in the car, turned on the headlights when he saw me.

Upon my return, thinking Compton was probably still sitting in the car, I took the long way back to my unit.

Compton wasn’t in the car, he was inside his/his mom’s unit; but I didn’t know that until, halfway up the stairs, I heard him open the door.

I don’t think I made much noise as I started up the stairs to alert him of my presence, yet and still, I heard him open the door.

I didn’t pause to see if he came outside to say something to me; maybe ask why I'd not called/texted. I just kept on stepping. When I reached my door, I heard him close his.

Weird.

I’m not afraid of Compton. I don't read him as dangerous or threatening, more like annoying.

He’s just young and dumb, playing a silly game like the little boy in school who does things to get a particular girl to notice him, except we’re all grown now, one of us more grown and wiser than the other. Compton has no idea who he’s playing games with.

I’m trying to be nice, don’t want to stir things up with his mom or lodge a complaint with management. Besides, except for that note, Compton really hasn’t done anything that’s provable; has done nothing that can’t easily be explained away by him or denied.

So, I’m just going to hold my peace, wait for whatever phase he’s going through to pass, until I record him doing something provable, something that can’t be explained away.

If and when we get to that point, I'll have no choice but to go Anne Marie on his ass.

Monday, July 8, 2024

Death Cleaning

All of Shadow’s possessions, seemingly everything he valued in life, has been smashed to Smithereens, tossed in up over and around the trash bin.

I mean EVERYTHING — shoes, clothes, walker, paintings that were on the wall, kitchen stuff, couch, chair, bed/bedding. You name it …… it’s in the trash. Even his big screen TV.


Something must be wrong with the TV, otherwise management would have kept it for themselves or given to one of their friends; but all this tossing just goes to show …… the things we hold onto so closely in life mean nothing to others once we’re gone.

Though I’ve been pretty good about donating and tossing, so as not to leave too much behind for family to deal with, I still have a lot of stuff and think it’s time to make hard choices about what I’m holding onto.

I didn’t see Shadow’s American flag, but that doesn’t mean it hasn’t been bagged and tossed in the pile, rather than given to his son or daughter as a keepsake, or turned over to the VA.

Though his being a sniper and recipient of a Purple Heart has never been verified, Shadow was a Veteran and, as a Vet, his flag should have been handled with respect.

Here’s an old photo I dug up of Shadow when he first arrived at the complex.


For an old guy, he actually wasn't too terrible to look at, except he had really bad teeth from smoking, drinking, lack of care.

This next photo is the Seer standing beside me at an Arts and Craft event, back when she was nice — before Shadow arrived on the complex and lured her over to the dark side.


That's Big Linda at the left end (known on the blog as being one of three bullies when I first moved in …… retired military …… yelled at everyone in and around the complex like a drill sergeant, regulated what we/they could and could not do and who, in turn, got on the wrong side of crazy Bicycle Boy, who has been torturing her for years, not too long ago vandalized her car.

Next, we have the Seer and Shadow together, back when their relationship was fresh and new.


While I’m at it, here’s a pic of my old buddy Apache, when he was all dolled up, looking Rico Suave for an event.


Last I heard, inasmuch as Apache remains banned from the premises and doesn’t want to get any of us in trouble with management by ignoring the ban to visit, he two weeks ago met nearby with a resident who has never made it onto the blog …… let’s just call him Elvis, because he did an impersonation at an event.

The other two of Apache’s long-time friends on the complex (the Baker and Di) have broken off contact with him because "He’s changed …… gotten into bad stuff … hanging out with some bad people".

Speaking of bad people, our Karen character caught a break this past weekend. Talker, Little Stalker and the gang abandoned the complex pool for the beaches of San Diego, leaving Karen with no footsteps overhead.

They’ll be back.

Things are getting weird and creepy for me around here.

Feel so weird, so creepy that I've set up a security camera in the kitchen window. (Thanks for the info Scary Mary, I went with the Kasa).

More on that in my next post.

Baker tells me there's Arts and Crafts with the new Activity Director tomorrow. I'll check in to see what's what, stay if it looks like fun, turn around and head back upstairs if it doesn't.

Saturday, July 6, 2024

For Whom the Bell Tolls

Out of the loop as I am, it took me eight days to learn the resident known as Shadow in the blog has passed away.

"Shadow" because, once he hooked up with my former friend The Seer, where she went, there went he.

Shadow was an interesting character. Somewhat of a cad, trickster, a bad boy whom we found likeable yet and still.

Age 60 when he moved in (2018), nothing to look at in my opinion, he nevertheless lured my former friend The Seer into a relationship, impressing her with his resume of where he’s been, what he’s done in life (Sniper in the Army, Purple Heart recipient), and how he now has a comfortable pension.

Two of our guy friends broke the Bro Code and expressed misgivings about Shadow after having caught him lying about his background and accomplishments — said he had not worked where he said he’d previously worked, had not resided where he’d previously said he lived, among other things, and it was blatantly obvious to anyone with eyes that Seer was dropping very far below her level in hooking up with Shadow.

I never believed Shadow's resume. Had checked the Registry of Purple Heart Recipients, found Shadow’s name not listed; but he wasn't my problem, so I never said a word to Seer or anyone else. I just listened to what others had to say, watched as Seer made the choice to become defensive of their relationship, cut friends out, including myself, and became arrogant because she "had a man" and we were simply "jealous".

I was hurt by her change in behavior towards me, saw her relationship as an accident about to happen and, knowing such arrogance was leading to a fall, closed my eyes so as not to see the carnage when it happened.

I’ve got to give it to Shadow though. He played a clever game, a masterful game.

He wined and dined Seer, listened to her advice to stop hanging around with hoodlums, bringing rough looking types onto the complex after he received a lease violation, almost got himself evicted when police were called to escort one of his low life friends from the premises.

He catered to Seer, called her "My Queen", went to church with her and hovered so she never had any distance from him, no time to think, ponder, even consider Shadow might be anything other than the white knight she envisioned him to be, the "real man, all man" she liked to brag he was.

It was a good year before Shadow tired of the game, stopped going to church, stopped wining/dining, began smoking/drinking to excess, hanging out with the other smokers, engaging with low life's outside the gate, spending less and less time with Seer, disrespecting her by telling the guys how quickly she "dropped her panties" for him.

I once actually caught Shadow hiding on the property, trying to avoid the Seer. Felt sorry for her when I saw her walking around trying to find where he was, and the experated way he threw up his hands, waved her away when she found him.

Lonely and trying to make amends by that point, Seer would pop up at events, try once again to engage with us, her former friends.

Some were forgiving, water under the bridge. However, if you haven’t noticed, I am not the forgiving type.

I’m fair. I’ll roll with whatever for a time, had actually given Seer many opportunities to straight up, fly right but when she became what my mother termed as "sometimey" ─ sometimes she’d speak, sometimes she’d turn up her nose and ignore me when I spoke or waved to her, sometimes she’d cut her eyes and give me the mad dog treatment for no reason, I’d had enough.

By the time she began trying to reengage, it was too late. My heart had hardened. She was dead to me. There was no forgiveness, no going back.

Seer moved out in 2022.

She'd begun drinking and, in a drunken stupor fell, hurt herself, was moved in with family and passed away shortly thereafter of heart failure, which those of us in the know attributed to Shadow not treating her right — using her, his coldness, not caring as much as she did. It broke her heart, hastened her death.

She chose, so cad that he was, I respected Shadow's bad boy game. Besides, he was always cool with me.

He was funny too. Whereas Seer burnt bridges, became offended and told me off for referring to her man as her shadow, Shadow himself said he had no problem with the moniker. That "when I was in high school, they called me Tigger because I had a girl on both arms".

I didn’t get it, he wasn’t a looker, but you gotta appreciate a bad boy who is out and proud about it.

That day last week when I took the circuitous route back to my unit — by Shadow's unit, to avoid Compton, I saw a makeshift shrine on the lawn.


The meaning did not register until yesterday, when I noticed maintenance had tossed furniture, clothing, household items into the trash bin.

A sign someone has passed away.

Then, throwing my workout bag into the jeep, heading for that morning's workout, I happened to look over and noticed Shadow's American flag was missing from its spot on Shadow’s patio, gone also were his patio furniture and plants.

Putting two and two together, that items in the trash were from his unit, the shrine was for him, I called around and found Shadow passed Thursday of the previous week, right out front of the property where he was smoking with his usual group of guys.

Word is that, while seated in his chair walker, he suddenly gasped, fell back in the chair with such force that the chair tipped back, his head hit the concrete.

The guys think Shadow made his transition at that time, from what they later learned was a heart attack, before his head took a blow on the concrete, long before the ambulance arrived, tried to resuscitate him.

I’m told the guys were pretty shook. I would be too if it happened right in front of me, but all in all not a bad way to go, quick like that.

I liked him, liked the bad boy character that he was and now envision him hiding from the Seer in the afterlife.

Thursday, July 4, 2024

Happy Birthday America

Insofar as I know, there’s not a lot going on around here in terms of celebrating, and it’s going to be too hot for me to step outside, check the pool area to see if I'm wrong.

I do know the pool has been busy this week, not only with little stalker’s family, but I saw a couple other groups — children accompanied by adults I've not seen around before, going to/from the pool.

So much for the new pool rule — "residents only and only two guests per resident".

No matter to me the rule is not being followed, because I don’t live over the pool to be disturbed by the hoop and holler of kids. If I did live over the pool, it still would be no matter to me, as I like the sound of kids enjoying themselves.

On Tuesday, I found an Activity Calendar for this month attached to the door.

I didn’t notice it until 10:30 a.m., glanced at it briefly and saw there was a 4th of July event scheduled for the Community Room THAT MORNING — "Social 4th of July celebration: Come celebrate 4th of July in the Community Room and enjoy a donut! 10:00 am – 11:30 am".

Really? A whole donut? Golly gee wow, management went all out, bared no expense.

With such late notice, I figured few, if any, had seen the Calendar posted to their doors: ergo, few would show up. So, I quickly threw on my summer outfit, headed down to check things out.

I was correct — few were in attendance, actually three ladies, one being the Baker.

The one box of store-bought donuts was festive though. Had red/white/blue sprinkles on them, LOL.

It was there, in the Community Room, I learned why we’d had no Activity Calendar posted to our doors last month ………… we didn’t have an Activity Director last month, she’d quit. We now have a new AD.

I do not have high hopes of the new AD getting things up and moving around here insofar as activities for us seniors, not just because though money is budgeted for activities but not always provided to the AD, but because, according to her, she has no experience, doesn’t know what is generally or usually done as an AD.

The Baker has taken it upon herself to work with this new AD, make suggestions. So, we’ll see how it goes because folks around here really need something to do with their time.

This became apparent to me when Little Stalker knocked knocked knocked on the door yesterday, and I went downstairs to gossip chat with Grandma Talker.

Hearing voices, Next Door Neighbor actually walked out onto her patio to listen. Didn't say anything, just looked/listened.

I don't know who lives in the upstairs unit across the quad directly adjacent to mine, because in all these years, I've never seen that person open their blinds.

However, not only did NDN come out, as Talker and I were chatting, but I saw the blinds AND window open on that unit.

When all one has is to jump up, run to the patio and/or open the window to see who's talking, what's being said, they really need something to do with their time.

The month of June has come/gone and still no sign of the usual rent increase.

It’s too much to hope that means we’ll not get an increase this year, it will come but, inasmuch as 30-days’ notice has to be given, the longer they delay the bad news is to our benefit of an additional month at the current rate.

The lady that moved into Red Light’s unit continues to get special care by the County, which makes me think she might be ill.

Looks can be deceiving, one never knows what another is challenged with, so though she doesn’t look ill, just appears very fragile, something is amiss because first there was her being personally moved in by the County, with what looked to be new furniture provided by the County and now, a day or so ago I saw a woman in a County car bring her a cart full of groceries.

Compton and I continue to avoid each other, but that means there’s no chance of my getting a photo for you to marvel at ………… him???? that scrawny kid???? all he did was bring in a box, it wasn't like he gave you a kidney, what did he think that was worth in return???

So, anyway, I'll be celebrating the 4th with my usual daily activities of needlepoint, catching up on recorded TV shows, and I'll round the day off with a Carrot Dog, maybe two.

I did, over the weekend, give myself a patriotic mani/pedi.


I leave you with Little Edie’s (Grey Gardens) tribute to the day.


I never get tired of Little Edie's dance and the story/history of Grey Gardens.

Monday, July 1, 2024

Okay Monday, I Can Do This

How often have I awakened in the morning to find a message from the VP of these United States?


What is: Like Never.

I’d answered former President Obama’s call to make a donation to Joe’s ActBlue, now Kamala is saying they’re counting on me.

The Power, Mega and Super are all into the millions. So, if the Universe wants me to give more, a lottery win is in order.

Otherwise, what I gave is all I can do, other than hope/pray for the best outcome even though it seems, with this latest stunt by the Supreme Court, we are sooooo screwed.

After the surprise of seeing Kamala in my in-box, came the apprehension of having to head out for this morning’s workout and how Compton would react to my not calling/texting (rejection), should I run into him.

I know from experience that some men, especially young men, have fragile egos — want to lash out, hurt someone, hurt something when women don’t react the way they want/expect women to.

If confronted, I’d planned to not make excuses for not calling/texting but to straight talk in terms someone Compton’s age could understand ………… "I don’t know you like that".

Fortunately, he was nowhere in sight AND his car was parked properly — facing forward in the carport, rather than reversed to where he could sit/watch AND, there was no angry young man vandalism to the jeep — scratches, flattened tire.

Returning to the complex, I decided to bypass the direct route to my unit, which would take me past the unit where Compton resides with his mom — which allows him to see my comings/goings, but to take the path around where Shadow lives, round the corner where Talker lives, then approach my unit from the opposite side of the walkway, taking care to not make too much noise climbing the stairs to alert Compton of my presence.

With his parking correctly, it seems Compton is, hopefully, embarrassed and is now avoiding me. With my changing my route, I’m avoiding him.

I’m good with this passive solution; that we avoid each other, just forget the whole thing ever happened.

However, I’m keeping his note for evidence should passive turn aggressive in the future.


Why did Compton use all caps, like it was an emergency; and why, after all these years, has Compton begun behaving so oddly in, let’s say, the last 12 months or so?

What’s happened in his life to change things?

Maybe nothing’s changed, maybe unbeknownst to me he’s been doing this all along with someone else on the complex.

Trainer says it’s because Compton lives on a senior complex, all he sees and has access to are seniors; that Compton knows I’m single and one of the "Hot Girls".

LOL. I like the idea of being considered a hot girl amongst us seniors, LOL; but I think Compton is just bored and has been smoking too much of that funny stuff.

On another note, commentor JanF said she loves that at 80, I will wear distressed shorts, and "can we see a photo?"


Not all that short when I’m standing JanF, but when I’m sitting the look goes to short shorts risqué.