From My Mouth to God’s Ears

I’d just this morning, commented on Mike’s post, about eggs being the new gold, that I’d not been able to purchase organic eggs since first of the year.

Lo and behold, I pop into the market after today’s workout for eggs and Eggland’s Best Organic are back on the shelf.

The price of $9.99 is reasonable, and worth it to settle my stomach, as it suddenly occurred to me, after an entire month of Cage Free eggs, as Organic was not available, this might be why my gut has been giving me issues for an entire month.

Cage Free Eggs come from chickens not kept in cages, probably fed things my gut is allergic to, while Organic Eggs comes from chickens kept not in cages and fed organic feed.

And trust me …… my stomach knows when I’ve eaten something with an ingredient or substance that it’s allergic to, as a gut episode soon follows.

So, anyway, since today seemed to be from my mouth to God’s ears …… desires are being granted, let me say I’m still looking for that multi-million-dollar bingo win.

Detouring through the mailroom on my way back to my unit, I ran into the Baker.

She looked worried.

Asking if the bingo thing had calmed down, she said "No". That Red Light is still upset because the Baker won’t tell her who it was that made the complaint that got her kicked out of bingo.

Baker said, "I can’t tell her. I don’t want to cause trouble for someone else, so now her son is calling".

"OH! HE’S DANGEROUS", said I.

"Yes, I know", said she.

I didn’t ask how she found out the son is dangerous, but I found out when Red Light and Talker had that falling out that I mentioned in my February 1 post — the falling out that prompted Red Light’s first meltdown on Facebook.

The son had gotten involved, told Talker "I’ll throw you in the pool, put my foot on your neck, hold you down until you drown".

That seemed extreme, a little too Dexter Morgan, so Talker and I branded the son as dangerous to be thinking that way, talking that way.

I subsequently researched him online, to see if he was wanted for anything, but could find no info about him …… nothing at all.

So now, the son is on a mission to find out, for his mom, who it was that made the complaint.

Baker said the son is calling and harassing others his mom suspects of being the one …… residents not initially named in her Facebook meltdown.

I don’t answer my phone for numbers I don’t recognize. So, I checked my call list to see if any of the numbers I ignored looked like they could have come from the son.

Didn’t find anything other than out of state so, evidently, I’m not on Dexter’s and Ma Barker’s list.

Inasmuch as the son is considered dangerous, I asked Baker what she was going to do.

"One of my son-in-laws is a Deputy Sheriff. He’s going to look into what’s the best course to follow".

I'd like to see the look on Red Light's and her son's face when the cops show up.

I repeat …… all this over bingo.

A Day Without Immigrants

I was wondering why it was that, when I popped into the market after this morning’s workout, I didn’t recognize not a single worker. No baggers were on site and none of the cashiers I’m accustomed to seeing were working.

Except for the manager, the store was staffed by strangers.

It wasn’t until this afternoon, after Judge Judy and before I could change channels to avoid the news, that I saw the announcement of A Day Without Immigrants.

Ooooooh, everyone took off in solidarity, thought I.

With all this DEI stuff taking the joy out of it, I myself am not celebrating Black History Month. I’ve also closed my Target and Walmart accounts.

And let me take this moment to apologize to my Canadian friends for what the Orange Menace is doing insofar as using tariffs to harass your country.

I’m a little upset that Canada, not to mention Mexico and China are capitulating, entering into discussions with the Orange Menace to iron out a deal.

My astrological sign is Capricorn the Goat — stubborn, resistant. I’d rather do without than give in to a bully, and I can’t be the only one who’d be willing to do so. So, if you all want to say "stuff it" to the bully, refuse to deal with him, with us, we will find a way to live without what goods you provide if it hurts the Orange Menace.

So, while Rome is burning, Red Light — oblivious to the fact there are bigger issues than her hurt feelings, continues her campaign of …… I don’t know what her campaign is. What’s her end goal for posting what she posted?

Does she want us to feel so sorry for her that we give in and invite her back?

Ain’t gonna happen.

Is it she just wants to cause as much damage as she thinks she can to others?

There’s an old proverb, "He who digs a pit for others falls in himself".

The only damage being done is to herself.

Her posts have become a joke, a laughing matter due to the childish way she expresses herself.

She hasn’t posted anything new; however, she has been making telephone calls.

I’m guessing she knows that though I harbor no ill will towards her, I’m not the kind of person to play this nonsensical game, so there have been no calls to my phone looking for sympathy or venting her anger.

Baker said she stopped answering her phone when Red Light called, gave up trying to talk sense into her, so Red Light called and called and called and called until Baker had to block her.

Talker said she’d really like to talk to Red Light, tell her to think about what she’s doing, get her to calm down, but doesn’t feel now is the right time when Red Light is being so volatile. So, Talker also doesn’t answer when Red Light calls, but isn’t being bombarded like the Baker was.

I’ve no idea what Manager is going to do, but I bet Red Light’s behavior is going to set a precedent; that when we next have one of her meetings, she’ll tell us that once a resident moves out, it's "not okay" or safe for us to allow them back on the property to visit or engage in any of our activities.

Inasmuch as I don’t plan to hang out with the usual suspects at bingo, or any of the events listed on this month’s Activity Calendar, I doubt I’ll have anything more to report on the subject, unless someone catches me outside and fills me in.

Speaking of this month’s Activity Calendar ………… You might recall that, because we lost access to the calendar when it became only accessible through Rent Café, the Activity Director snuck a copy to Baker, who passed around to us.

Color me surprised when I found this month’s calendar in my email.

It came directly from Manager.

Has she seen the light and given up on Rent Café or did she just want to be in control of the calendar?

That’s why Manager and Red Light could never get along ……… both wanted control.

I’ve also learned that’s what irked the usual suspects about Red Light. Only one actively complained about and campaigned against her, but it’s being said more than one felt annoyed, because she was coming to bingo not as a visitor, but as though she was still running things.

And that’s the tea.

Manure Has Hit the Fan

Logging into Facebook this morning, to update the month on the resident’s page from January to February and, whoa Nelly, there was Red Light with one of her cryptic memes which I recognized as the beginning of a meltdown.

If this indeed is heading for a meltdown, it would be her 2nd very public meltdown, thought I. The first was in March of 2023.

This is what Red Light does. It’s her passive aggressive way of trying to manipulate people into feeling sorry for her. Like, "Hey look at what’s happening. I’m a victim here".

Only this time, as Red Light transitioned into the meltdown I'd expected was coming, she went from cryptic memes to full on naming names.

I don't know who this Blair person is — no one living here insofar as I know; but, by naming "Beatrice", Red Light is pointing directly at the Baker, "Grace" the Other Wheelchair Lady and "Mari" the complex Manager.

I'm not sure who "Another Person" is but, surprisingly, she doesn't name Talker and thankfully kept my MF name out her MF mouth (see what I did there).

Seems like the Baker, stuck between that rock and hard place as to whether to stand by her friend Red Light or acquiesce to the resident that didn't want Red Light around, made the difficult decision that what the resident wanted took precedence.

Under the circumstances of Red Light no longer being a resident, I don't see that the Baker had any other choice, before the complaining resident took the complaint to Manager, but Red Light is obviously seeing it differently.

That last sentence was a nice try at throwing shade and doubt on the Baker, trying to cause the Baker to consider someone doesn't like her either.

If Manager learns of Red Light's postings, her name included (and she will learn because someone will snitch to her), there's going to be heck to pay. Manager will probably get Red Light's FB account shut down, may even shut down the Resident's page, as Red Light posted all that not only to her personal Facebook page but also to the Resident's page, just to make sure it was seen by multiple persons.

I have it that, though Red Light's new place in Yucaipa is nice, luxurious, near a great shopping center, restaurants, etc., with only 35 units and so much to do in the area, no one wants to do bingo or set up any kind of activity, get involved with neighbors. Seems, she gained a lot when she moved out March of last year, but she also lost a lot — the sense of community she seems to need.

If she was reaching the point of loneliness and boredom to where she wanted to move back here, she's blown that possibility and, since she's burning bridges, she now has no friends just to stop by and visit.

So, anyway, if anyone is looking for me today, you'll find me eating popcorn, watching Facebook to see what Red Light will post next.

Timing is Everything

The more I thought about why Red Light would ask if my reason for dropping out of bingo was because of her, the more it occurred to me she just might have been fishing for information …… expected me to say no, it wasn’t her, it was someone else, so she could start drama.

Little did I know the drama had already begun. I just got caught up in it due to poor timing.

Heading out of the complex to run errands this morning, I parked in front of the office, ran in to drop off next month’s rent check, ran into the Baker.

Perfect timing.

After greeting her, I went straight into, "I got the strangest text from Rox (Red Light) asking if I was leaving bingo because of her. Why would she think that?"

The Baker began laughing, said "That was a strange thing to do, but let me tell you what happened earlier".

Baker said she’d been approached by another resident who said, "I can’t stand Rox. I just can’t get along with that woman and, since she’s no longer a resident, I don’t think she should be allowed to attend bingo".

Baker said that put her in a terrible position because, though the complaining resident has a valid point about Red Light not living here and technically should not be allowed to participate in resident activities, Red Light is her friend.

What the Baker decided to do was to call Red Light, tell her what had been said and leave it up to her to decide if she wanted to nevertheless continue to attend bingo.

She did.

Red Light attended the same day she found out someone did not want her there …… the same day I decided to announce I quit.

She put two and two together, thought I might be the complaining resident, sent that text.

I actually admire Red Light’s not folding like a cheap suit. The Baker wouldn’t tell her who the complainer is, so she’s on the hunt.

Now that I understood what's going on, and Baker being between a rock and a hard place as to whether to allow her friend Rox to continue to participate, I offered the following.

"You do a lot for these people, and they don’t seem to appreciate how much you do, how hard you work to give them fun activities. They take advantage of you. Rox has always helped you with all you do. So, if the person complaining is not doing anything to help you, and Rox is, then F_ck ‘em".

The Baker laughed again, and said "That’s the thing. The resident complaining is also helping me".

So, anyway, I don’t know what the Baker is going to do and, since I won’t be attending bingo in the future, I won’t know if Red Light shows up at bingo tomorrow, and the next and the next until things blow up and she can't.

One thing I do know is who the complaining resident is because, when the Baker said the complainer also helps her, that brought it down to two possibilities …… the Talker and the Other Wheelchair Lady.

The Other Wheelchair Lady — the resident who took offense to Di saying the F word, is known to be sometimey, but it’s a medication issue. Outside of flipping out, now and then because of meds, I know her to be friends with Red Light. There's always the possibility that's changed, but I doubt it.

My money is on Talker as the one who says she can’t get along with Red Light, and wants her to stop coming here.

I say this because, a few weeks ago, Di was upset because Talker was saying bad things about her, "trying to turn my friends against me", Di said.

When Di was telling me what Talker was saying/doing, I said "That doesn’t sound like her, doesn’t seem like something she’d do".

Now I’m thinking that, though I’ve never seen that part of Talker, she may actually be guilty of inflicting emotional damage on Di, maneuvering to get Red Light banned.

After all, this is the Feng Shui Year of the Snake. People we thought we knew are shedding their skins, showing a side of themselves we never knew was there — Snoop Dogg, Cary Underwood, Rascal Flatts to name a few. So, it’s not a stretch to surmise Talker is shedding her skin, showing a hurtful bully side.

At any rate, that’s the tea.

I have a sense that, at the rate things are going, bingo may end up shutting down altogether because, if Talker is successful at getting Red Light out, she herself will probably walk away, leaving the Baker on her own, with no one to help and Baker will have no choice but to shut down the whole thing.

That’s One

When I texted the Baker about bouncing out of bingo, Red Light happened to be in the Baker’s unit.

Red Light had earlier attended bingo and evidentially was hanging around Baker’s unit when my text came in.

I’d like to know what was discussed between the two of them, which prompted Red Light to text me yesterday asking if my reason for doing so was her …… that I didn’t want to come because she was attending.

Girl, please.

Super annoying that she'd think I care whether she, who relocated to a fancy luxury apartment some time ago, keeps coming back — continues to make her way over here to attend bingo, hang out.

In fact, it just recently crossed my mind, and puzzled me when I thought about how many residents I've seen move out and then, sometimes years later, put in an application. Some were successfull, moved back, others were denied.

Why return to the scene of the crime?

What's the appeal?

Are other senior living facilities that bad?

Just last week, I saw my Buddy Apache, bold as brass visiting a guy friend on the property, in violation of the restraining order management took out on him; and he was doing so during daylight hours when staff was still around to spot him.

I wanted to go down and say hey, but I was inappropriately dressed at the time.

It was just the week before when I spied Bicycle Boy lurking in the area.

People just keep coming back so, to me, Red Light is just one of many.

At any rate, That’s one, thought I to myself when Red Light texted for an explanation.

Actually, that's two because Baker also initially sought an explanation …… did someone say something to upset me.

Thinking Red Light’s question, about she being the reason, was too ridiculous to warrant a response, I brushed it off, didn’t respond.

Then today, I got to thinking …… Red Light is good at getting everyone’s personal business circulating on the grapevine. If I give her an explanation, she’ll be sure to spread it around, save the need for others to seek me out for an explanation.

So, I replied, "I like doing the flyers and web page. It's just that I don't enjoy sitting playing bingo as much as you others do and just don't want to do that part any longer".

Hopefully, that’s the end of it, but I doubt it.

In other news, I saw one of those Nazi Trucks when I was out and about yesterday.

It appeared to be undamaged, but I bet the driver is worried because folks are taking their frustrations at the maker out on the owners — Tesla’s and Nazi Trucks are being keyed, damaged with graffiti spray paint.

It’s not right, but I understand.

Where’s George?

It’s a freezing cold and rainy day here in the Inland Empire, but no complaints because the power is on.

Fortunately, when I was out and about yesterday, I stopped by the market. Didn’t get much, basically shopping for two days at a time these days, as I’m still not ready to trust the power to stay on.

Any rate, I’m not so desperate for anything that I have to head out in the rain today, but tomorrow is a workout day and who knows what we’re in store for.

So, snug as a bug in a rug today, I’m avoiding depressing news, catching up on recorded TV programs and working on that never ending needlepoint project.

Please tell me I’m not the only one to remember how, back in the day, we’d track dollar bills by serial number, as the bills circulated across the country through a site called Where’s George.

If this doesn't sound familiar to you .... In the late 90s early 2000s, when the internet was fairly new, Where's George was a game that involved dollars stamped with the message "currency tracking project/track me at WheresGeorge".

If and when one of those stamped bills came into our possession, we’d go to Where’s George, check to see if the serial number on the bill was listed and, if listed, we’d input where in the country we’d found it, then send it back into circulation to travel elsewhere, be found by someone else.

It was just a fun thing to see how far the bill would travel.

Although the game started with tracking the trail of dollar bills with the specific message "currency tracking project/track me at WheresGeorge", it caught on and people began writing other messages on the bills — none of which I can recall, except it became something like the message in a bottle craze.

Thinking back, I'm not at all certain it was legal to write on/deface money, but it was done.

Looks like it's still being done because, when I went to pull cash out of my fanny pack to pay for groceries yesterday, I found a bill with a message.

We love you Mac

It's a $20, rather than a $1 bill, but I nevertheless looked for the old Where's George site, found it's still up.

Not only is the site still up, it appears to be active with stats showing where and under what circumstances the bills listed came into the finder’s possession, like "I got it the Brookdale Dollar General, Got in a McDonald’s as change, A gift for a holiday in a card, Arcade Bar in Lincoln Nebraska, Received in change at a gas station in Vermont", so on and so forth.

So, anyway, the $20 I’d gotten as change somewhere in my goings was, of course, not listed as only $1 bills are, but Where’s George looks like a fun thing to bring back in these troubling times.

Maybe I should log in my $1 bills, write on them messages — such as "Have faith" …… "This too shall pass" and other such messages of hope, send into circulation with instructions to "track me at WheresGeorge", see where they land.

As for whoever this Mac guy is, my guess is he's not worthy because, if someone had written such a message to me, I'd have treasured the bill, framed it even.

Bingo Friday

Waking up this morning, realizing today was bingo Friday, I first blurted out the F word, then tried to work up the courage to not go ……… call the organizers, say I didn’t want to continue taking the photos.

Courage did not come. So, I put on my big girl panties and headed down to the Community Room after this morning’s workout.

What with the Holidays and power outages, the seniors had not been able to play bingo since December 6th — which for me was a Godsend, a nice vacation.

Others felt differently because, so anxious were the residents to get bingo back on track that, when I popped into the Community Room to reserve my spot, the room was already full of residents waiting for bingo to hurry up and get going.

Even though I won the first game, my focus was on how to bow out.

Though I don’t like to lie, am not good at lying, I tossed around the idea of lying …… saying I’ve changed my workout schedule from 11:00 to 12 noon, which would preclude my continuing to attend.

Then I thought how complicated lying would be …… the old "Oh what a crooked web we weave when first we practice to deceive".

For one, someone would see me either heading for the Pain Cave at my normal time, returning with time enough to head to bingo. I’d have to stay away for an additional hour or so, or somehow sneak back into the complex.

Lying was going to be too much trouble. Back to the mental drawing board as the games played on.

The room was unusually noisy during the games today.

I thought to use that as a reason to bow out — the noise giving me headaches, but that would have been another lie.

The noise was bothersome to the point of giving me a headache, but I wanted out for the simple fact I wanted out …… didn’t want to do it any longer.

Not exactly sure why today was so noisy, other than seniors being inconsiderate and a caretaker, with a very loud voice, trying to explain/help the two foreign language residents she brought with her understand the game, and simultaneously control the Alzheimer resident she takes care of.

I didn’t find out until after the games that Alzheimer was an issue with the lady. All I knew was that she kept holding up her arm, as though she’d won a game, argue with the others at her table that "I've got it", or she’d occasionally yell Bingo!

Inasmuch as I was seated closest to her, the Baker, who was calling the games, became confused as to whether the lady had actually won a game, and would ask me to check her card for a win/settle their arguments.

It was no bingo, no bingo, no bingo, so on and so forth ……… until it was because, sure enough, one time I checked, and she’d actually won a game. At which point, the caregiver said no.

Now, I’m confused ……… telling the Baker, "I see a bingo, but I'm being told no".

It ended with the caregiver saying to ignore it.

Why is a mystery to me.

So, anyway, at the end of bingo, the Baker tells me that, because the seniors went so long without bingo, we’re going beastmode — back to back, with Bingo next Friday, then return to the normal every other week schedule.

Conversation in my head was "I just can’t do it …… I don’t want to do it".

Once back upstairs, having decided I wasn’t going to do it, I ran various scenarios through my head as to how to announce that decision, and ended up texting the Baker that I’ll be happy to continue doing flyers for her, but I won’t be able to continue attending, take photos.

During today’s game, and on other occasions, I’d observed Talker taking photos; and, since she always attends bingo, takes great photos, I suggested Talker could take over that duty, send photos to me and I’d post on the website; that I’m happy to help the organizers in the background with anything they need, but won’t be attending in person.

I was hoping she’d accept my resignation, not put me in the position of saying I don’t want to do it, but noooooo.

She immediately texted back, "What’s wrong. Did someone say something to you?"

I texted back, "Nothing like that. You know me. If something like that had happened, I would have handled it. I just would rather help in the background".

So, hopefully, that’s the end of that and I can joyfully shout "Free at last, free at last, Thank God almighty free at last" without further explanation.

On another topic, Margaret this morning posted about seeing a post that stated we have to check our social media accounts because 45/47 and others of his ilk were attaching to our accounts, had us as following them.

She checked and, sure enough, her account or accounts showed she was now following them.

I figured I’d better check my accounts, and though I didn’t see 45/47 or anyone associated with him, I did show I was now following White Grandma (grandson in law’s uptight judgmental mother).

WHAT?!

I would never.

In fact, when White Grandma showed up as following me, I’d hit delete.

I’ve no idea how follow happened, but I’ll be keeping an eye on my social media accounts to make sure 45/47, his flunkies and White Grandma don’t engage.

Cleaning House

No explanation needed. If you know you know and you should know …… that is unless you’re one of my neighbors here on the senior complex who don’t know anything outside of these gates.

Furthermore ……

And I'll henceforth be referring to cyber trucks as nazi vehicles.

Trippin

The power company is tripping.

Power did indeed go out again last night, with an estimate of off from 9:30 to 7:00 this morning.

Seven a.m. came and went with no power but, as of 8:30 this morning, not 7:00, we’re good, power on.

This drip drip drip, power off/power on, is beginning to annoy.

I guess I shouldn’t complain, be grateful instead because, according to the power company, many in other areas haven’t had their power restored since that initial outage.

At any rate, with not the restored Tik Tok available on my phone last night, I gave Red Note another try and take back everything I said about not liking it.

A lot of the content creators I followed on Tik Tok are now on Red Note, so it’s beginning to feel like business as usual. Plus, the algorism is beginning to grasp what I like to see.

An additional plus are the language teachers that are not only welcoming us to the platform but, in an effort to get followers, are giving language lessons.

So far, I’ve only learned how to say hello in Mandarin (Ni hao), but it’s a start.

I can't believe I'm saying this, thinking this, feeling this but, after spending my entire life in California, I'm about ready to get the hell out of here.

The power outages, the constant threat of fire on Little Mountain, a recent maintenance issue that is traumatizing me, continuing family dramas, and other issues, are pushing me to relocate, get away from everything and everyone.

I've actually been searching, but inasmuch as I'm in that financial gray area ... too far over income to lease a unit in another income restricted complex, but not enough income to afford the high rents in other senior complexes I've researched in surrounding California cities, I'm ready to consider another state.

Quickie

Just as I got out of the car to head inside the Pain Cave for this morning’s workout, I got a phone alert that power in the area was out.

There was enough sunlight streaming in through the windows that the front room of the cave was workable for classes. However, the personal training area is in a back room, no sunlight.

So, with no electricity for the equipment I work on, no light in the area, no music, I just said hello/goodbye to Trainer, "I’ll see you on Wednesday …… If power restored".

Knowing soup was needed to get through this outage, but all out of vegetables, I headed across the street to the market.

Cashier was telling me they do have a generator, but it doesn’t kick in until needed to save the frozen items.

There is a shield that comes into play to keep frozen and cold items frozen/cold until the generator kicks in, and you can see one of those shields in the above video. Otherwise, the store generally has a few hours before that generator kicks in, lights turn on.

In the interim, everything else works, but in the dark.

So, anyway, I was rocking and rolling with the outage as I returned to the complex, prepared for no TV, burners but no oven to bake the salmon I'd planned for the day, that I'd have to pan fry it.

Meat Man was driving out of the complex, as I was crossing the parking lot. He pulled up, wished me Happy MLK Day, gave me a pep talk about you know who's second term, saying "We've survived worse" …… he's right, and "God is in control" …… right again.

While rewarming my morning coffee in a pot on the stove, I heard a clicking noise.

Checking around the unit to locate the noise, I noticed it was the printer rebooting.

That only happens when the power has been turned off and, because the printer is attached to a cord in a wall outlet, it automatically reboots when power is restored.

I checked further and, sure enough, TV and laptop powered up. Power was back at 12 noon, had only been off for an hour.

Thinking this might be some kind of a trick, I'm now online posting this quickie before power goes out again, which I expect will be in any second as the winds are still howling.

As far as this business about today's event being moved inside because of the cold, I'm not buying it.

I'm not watching any news today, so I don't know if the news channels are showing what's going on outside the area, but I find I have temporary access to Tik Tok on my laptop (not my phone) and the following is what I'm seeing.

Thousands protesting (not millions as I previously commented). They don't seem to mind the cold weather.

Before the power company kicks me offline, I'll leave you with this ……

Withdrawals

Last night was rough without Tik Tok lulling me to sleep.

I was one of the unlucky few whose app was shut down a day earlier than the scheduled tonight.

I tried the Red Note app, that Tik Tokers are migrating to, but didn’t like it.

There are not the Crazy Karen videos I so enjoyed, the dance tutorials, the movie shorts, the Korean boy band performances — like BTS and Stray Kids, no jump scare videos, a few but not many odes to Luigi Mangione, and missing are a myriad of all the other fun things I’d so enjoyed on Tik Tok.

Red Note is too civilized, a "let’s be polite" community …… boring.

I couldn’t find any movies elsewhere that I wanted to watch so, getting to sleep last night was rough, and I expect will be so tonight and tomorrow and tomorrow, so on and so forth, as I go through withdrawals, figure out what to do with myself between the hours of 9:00 p.m. and midnight.

I may have to go back to the ancient times, when I read a book and meditated myself to sleep.

To top it off we’ve been given yet another Public Safety Power Shutoff Alert …… "High winds and dangerous fire conditions are forecast from Monday morning through Tuesday evening. We may have to shut off your power to decrease risk of dangerous wildfires".

I’ve been playing it safe, not keeping more in the refrigerator than I can store in the electric bag, so no worries there; but without access to Tik Tok on my phone, the nights are going to be even more restless than last time power was off, when I at least had Tic Tok.

Would be glorious if the power was to go out nationwide, so that the inauguration could not be televised; and speaking of the inauguration …… What’s with the event being moved inside???

My spidey sense is telling me the move is to save Das Fuhrer from further crowd size embarrassment.

Nun, Secretary, Librarian, Deputy Sheriff, Legal Secretary, Court Reporter, Lawyer, Private Detective

Those were all the career choices I considered, researched, sometimes took classes in as I navigated through life.

What brought the subject up was Mitchell’s comment that I should have been a private detective and Mistress Maddie’s comment about my comment to his drag nun post. It got me to thinking about my career choices.

I don’t recall, as a child, ever thinking about what I wanted to do when I grew up. However, the fact I’d ask for, and sometimes get, a toy typewriter for Christmas, should have been a clue for me that I was leaning towards the secretarial field.

The first time I recall actually making a plan for a future me was around 15 years old. I wanted to be a Nun.

I was raised Baptist, but it wasn't me. I was quiet, reflective and the Baptists were noisy, loud.

A neighbor girl one day invited me to services at her Catholic Church.

I so enjoyed the Catholic church’s peaceful quiet atmosphere that I began sneaking off to attend the Catholic church on the regular.

Then, when I went to the movie theater, saw Audrey Hepburn’s movie The Nun’s Story twice in a row, I decided that was the life I wanted.

My controlling mom got wind of my leaning towards the Catholic religion, forbid my hanging out with my Catholic friend, attending the Catholic church again. Told me I was to be a schoolteacher.

I think it was in my last year of Jr. High School when us students were counseled to choose a career path for our high school years.

Though Mom told me to say teacher, Secretary came out of my mouth, and I was gently told that was not an achievable goal for a person with my skin color, that I should go into nursing.

I’m way too squeamish for that, so I went aimlessly into high school with nothing in mind. It was just the regular classes — Math (that I sucked at), English (I excelled), Homemaker stuff like sewing/cooking classes.

It was during my last year of high school, with mom expecting me to graduate, find a way into a Teacher Education Program, poor as we were, that something inside gave me the strength to defy her. I was tired of being poor, wanted to earn money when I graduated, enrolled in a typing class, passed with an A+.

This is when it looked like the advice I'd been given — not an achievable goal for a person with my skin color, might be legit because, the A students in the class that were not of my skin color ... no effort on their part, were approached by recruiters to work in government offices.

However, the color of my skin was not always a negative. It helped me get my foot in the door and sometimes, during my career, brought recruiters and headhunters to me.

The first foot in the door was when I found my way into a position where a girl of color was needed by a white business operating in a predominately Black area.

It did not pay well but, from there, I tested and got a Clerk Typist position in public services.

The world evolved, my skills strengthened through technical college, continuing education classes, work experiences sharpening my skills.

My girls remember it as "Mom, you were always in school, working to give us a better life".

At any rate, I moved up from clerk typist to secretary, was many times the right person in the right place at the right time and accepted offers presented, one offer that got me into the legal field.

Along the way, when I'd end up working in positions where I endured racism, abuse of authority, or the bosses were bat shit crazy — like those years I worked with the witches (Henrietta, Joyce, Jane), I looked into other careers, like Library Sciences, but learned I was already making more money than Librarians.

I looked into taking a Private Detective course, but the school was too far away.

I even looked at going to Law School.

I took a test to get into law enforcement, passed the test, but the interview was a joke. Interviewers were obvious about not taking me seriously, flunked me out.

Funny thing though was that, not long after I was flunked out in the oral, there was a push to bring women into that field, but by then I’d already discovered Court Reporters were making tons of money, had poured myself into Court Reporting School.

I don’t remember how fast my skills on the stenotype machine tested out at, but I do remember I was fast, took the test to get certified, passed, got ready to apply for a position.

It was all so long ago that I also don’t recall if the position I was to apply for was with the Courts, the County or the State; but I do recall that, all of a sudden, something happened and hiring new Court Reporters was put on hold.

There’s now a shortage of Court Reporters.

It seems that every time I tried to move out of the secretarial field, a roadblock appeared and, when I was no longer interested in switching, the roadblock disappeared.

The Universe was leading me to stay in the secretarial lane.

It was a good lane. I sometimes had great bosses and because of all the classes I’d taken in other areas, my interest in and keeping up with technology, I had skills others did not have, had slowly been moving up to higher paying secretarial positions all along and, when reorganizations and layoffs occurred, I was considered valuable, remained employed, kept my salary when others suffered job loss and pay cuts.

Being a secretary wasn’t a grand ambition, but it's been an interesting path, worked out for me.

I sometimes wonder if my enjoyment of cosplay is an extension of my initial desire to move through life in fields other than those in which I was planted.

My Box Runneth Over

My mailbox that is.

I’ve been stewing for over a week because the post office's Informed Delivery Notification system showed a red top I’d ordered had been delivered, but I never received it.

Jumping to the conclusion the postal carrier had messed up, placed my package in the wrong box and the resident receiving had decided to keep rather than turn over (it’s happened more than twice here), I decided I’d had enough of dishonest people and planned to keep an eye out for someone on the property wearing my top.

I visualized myself approaching the individual, say "Nice top, but you do know it’s stolen". Ask if they are the one that received all the other misdelivered items.

I wouldn’t want the top back. Just to embarrass the culprit, let the person know I was onto her.

Along with stewing over the missing top, I began obsessing that the postal carrier might misdeliver my Luigi Mangione candle, due to arrive any day.

Informed Delivery notification indicated today is the day Luigi would arrive. So, after this morning’s workout, I headed straight for the mail box and found the box filled to the brim, stuffed and spilling over.

When was the last time you checked mail? I thought to myself and figured it to have been December 27.

The holidays really messed me up. There was just too much going on during, shortly after, then came the outages. So somehow, I just totally forgot to pick up mail.

So anyway, Luigi arrived safe and sound.

Also in the box was that red top Informed Delivery indicated had been delivered, but I was stewing over having not received. It had been sitting in the mailbox all along.

Tax info in the box reminded me it’s tax season, so I’ve got that to take care of and fortunately, my utilities are automatic payments, so I wasn’t in danger of any shutoffs because I didn’t see the bill in the mailbox. (That too has happened. My renter’s insurance got cancelled because, even though I did pull the bill from the mailbox, I put it aside and forgot. Oh well).

Also in the mail I picked up today was a nice surprise gift from blog friends Dawn and Princess T.

Thanks Ladies!

Today is no bingo Friday, so I won’t see any residents to find out if they saw Bicycle Boy on the property yesterday.

However, heading to this morning’s workout I caught a quick glimpse of a favorite couple of mine, driving in traffic on their motorized wheelchairs, headed to the bus stop.

Winds now gone, safe to drive on the freeway, I'm off to the tire place tomorrow to check on a slow leak. Then See's Candy to medicate myself into an I Don't Care frame of mind to get me through knowing that not only one, but two of my favorite country western music favorites (Carrie Underwood and Rascal Flatts) have gone over to the dark side, will be performing at the inauguration.

I won't be watching, but just knowing they've sold out, put money and getting in with the ruling class over personal integrity, is disappointing.

Public Safety Power Shutoff All-Clear

I got the all clear at 8:20 pm yesterday evening.

Trainer got it much earlier. A message hit his phone about halfway through my workout yesterday morning.

Trusting the all-clear Trainer received, I thought it safe enough to head to the market after to replace the freezer items I'd lost during the outage.

Turning into the lot, who did I see but Bicycle Boy lounging on his bike, across the street from the Pain Cave, just outside the market's parking lot.

Bicycle Boy is the resident who bullied other residents since before I arrived on the complex, would leave spittle on Big Linda’s truck, keyed Big Linda’s truck, physically fought with my old buddy Apache, destroyed the shrine set up for Shadow after Shadow passed away, and had in August "gotten into it" with a new resident who wanted no parts of him, asked to be moved to an upstairs unit, away from the ground floor, because the ground floor made it too easy for Bicycle Boy to harm him.

That resident was granted his move and BB was finally, after all these years, served with eviction papers back in September.

For a while after the eviction, residents lived in fear Bicycle Boy would come back and "do something" in retaliation.

He was observed biking through the complex once, shortly after that eviction. Now here he is lurking in the area.

Hmmmmmm?

He’d disappeared by the time I’d exited the store and I’ll bet dollars to donuts he bicycled his way through the complex just to unnerve residents, let them know he’s not forgotten us.

Severe Weather and Power Restoration Update

The high winds continue to plague the area, and though the power company continues to issue Public Safety Power Shutoff Warning, we’re still up and running.

Looking at all the devastation in the Los Angeles and Palisades area, seeing how some homeowners refused to evacuate, stayed behind to fight the fire with water hoses, brought back to mind we here don’t have that option because, back in 2015 that mean Nurse Ratched — Complex Manager at the time, issued a notice "Due to the drought, we will be eliminating the water spigot in the patios".

That’ right. Nurse Ratched, in her insane wisdom of making sure the drought restrictions, officially put in place at that time were complied with, had ordered the then maintenance guys to cut off all the water spigots because she didn’t trust residents to not attach hoses to water patio plants during the drought.

To this day I don’t know if Corporate even knows she damaged the property doing that, if there’s some fire code making it illegal to have deprived residents of a way to protect themselves in a fire emergency until the Fire Department arrives, and whether or not this lack of spigots is a hindrance to the Fire Department’s fighting a fire should they need an additional water source.

I don’t even know if our current Manager even knows we have no spigots, they’ve been cut off and cemented over.

I do know that, back in 2017, after Nurse Ratched was fired for embezzling, the Manager we had that year did notice.

She voiced how strange there were no spigots and, fortunately, I just happened to be present when she questioned it and informed her it was her predecessor’s bright idea, which predecessor I described to her as a terrible human, only I used the word "b _ _ ch".

At that time, I asked if spigots could or would be reinstalled, but never heard back on that topic.

Maybe because that Manager was fired for being too nice to us before she got around to looking into the issue.

So, anyway, today was the first day I was able to workout in the Pain Cave since last Monday.

Trainer informed me that, because all the electronic precautions he had set up to prevent another break-in were down during the outage, he slept in the studio.

That had to be cold, dark, rough. Plus, he said he got no sleep because he had to stay awake, be attentative as to who was on the lot at night and why.

He had me laughing at how it was that when he’d see someone walking around on the lot 2:30/3:00 in the morning, he’d confront them with "Who are you, why are you here?".

At least now, if there is another outage, and if it was someone casing the joint to take advantage of the outage to break in, destroy the expensive glass window, tear holds in the walls, like before, to get to the liquor store again, they now know Trainer is onto them, and won’t even bother coming around with bad intent next time.

After telling him about the solar generator I just bought, he indicated he’ll probably do the same just in case we do get shut down again this week.

He won’t be able to keep the studio open with a little generator, but at least he can run a heater and a coffee pot …… keep warm during his mall cop hours.