I Hope This is Personal

A bearable 86◦ this morning, I headed out to put in walking miles around the complex and saw this ……

I’m not wishing harm on anyone in hoping this is personal. I’m just hoping this doesn’t mean some kind of fresh hell for all of us that park in that area. Not some random someone walking around smashing out car windows, but rather some kind of personal animosity having to do with no one but the resident whose car was vandalized.

It did occur to me that perhaps the vandalism did not happen on our lot, but that the car’s owner was in the wrong place at the wrong time …… that this happened elsewhere. But noooooo, because there was glass on the ground, under and around the area of the window, indicating it happened here.

At any rate, fingers crossed this is a one-time thing for the vandalized car owner and for us.

Yesterday was also a bearable walking day at 89◦, but I opted to get marketing out of the way instead.

Listening to country/western station KFROG, as I drove to the branch of the market in the bad area/surrounded in bars like a prison that has the best produce because of the way the area is zoned, I burst out laughing when I heard radio host Kelli say, "It’s still hot, but Walmart is already selling Christmas decorations".

I’m still waiting for October 1/the First of Halloween but, at this rate, Valentine’s Day merchandise will be on sale before Halloween gets here.

This branch of the market I drove to is preferred, rather than the corner market, not only because produce seems fresher, but also because fun things seem to happen at the other branch. Like the young man telling me his friend said I was pretty, and the 62-year-old that called me chocolate ice cream and proposed marriage. This time it was a not bad looking slightly over middle-aged gentleman pushing his cart towards me, looking to pass on my left, head to produce as I was pushing my car out of that area. Just as he was about to pass, he said, "My God! You are so beautiful, so beautiful".

Believe you me, I was feeling nowhere near beautiful yesterday …… just so old, so tired, and so done that, though he was looking at me when he said it, I wasn’t all that sure he was actually talking about or to me. I even actually turned around as he passed to see if he was addressing someone behind me. There was no one else in the immediate area, so I can only assume the spontaneous utterance was addressed to me …… the Universe giving me the bump I needed to pull myself out of the blue funk I’ve been in off/on for months.

Still not totally convinced that I looked better than I felt, I took a selfie when I got back to the car …… the photo I’m now using as my profile pic.

My eyes …… free of eye makeup because I gave that up long ago, do not look well or happy.

Nevertheless, the bump seems to have worked …… temporarily motivated me up and out, because I pushed through this morning and logged in 1.01 miles, in 32:38 minutes at the snail slow pace of 32:15, 3,292 steps.

It’s a start. Hopefully, I can keep it up as the weather continues to cooperate by cooling down.

In other news, it’s been super quiet around here since last week’s End of Summer event. I’ve not seen nor spoken to any neighbors, so no news on the status of Hell on Wheels, Ankle Annie or the Feces Felon.

Bingo returns this Friday, after a month’s hiatus due to the organizers having to work around office hours and the Baker’s needing a break from whatever has been happening in bingo that upset her.

She had me do a sheet of Bingo Rules that includes the regular "Limit two wins until the ninth (blackout) game", adding "No arguments between players or you will be asked to leave".

That’s telling.

I wonder who was arguing, and what could they have been arguing about. It’s just bingo for God’s sake.

Also, "Keep the noise down so everyone can hear the numbers, please make sure you are listening".

That was especially aggravating when I used to attend bingo, and the main reason I stopped going. People could just not shut up, talked over the caller making it difficult to hear numbers being called AND, because they were talking instead of listening, would often interrupt the game asking "What were those last numbers you called" or "Did you call xyz?".

Lastly, "Lunch or snacks will be served after bingo for our bingo players".

I think this is because residents, not involved in bingo, would lurk around trying to time coming in just as refreshments were being served. You know, like the neighbor who just happens to stop by when dinner is being served.

I think it’s going to be hard to enforce this rule.

If I were the Baker, I’d order meal tickets that say, "Good for one meal", pass those tickets out to residents playing bingo AND, at the end of bingo, serve only those who present valid tickets.

In fact, I’m going to order said tickets, give to the Baker for bingo and other events where residents unceremoniously show up at dinner time.

Tomatoes, Kale, Eggs, Strawberries and a Proposal

The market …… not at the corner, but a branch of the same market located further down the road, in the heart of where the homeless congregate, surrounded by quite a lot of high iron fencing — like a prison, to control access, keep the unhoused out, is fast becoming my favorite.

Why?

Not just because, due to redlining, the produce is fresher/lasts longer, but because it’s where blog worthy things have happened to me — like that young man who stopped me to say, "My friend said you’re pretty" and where today I was referred to as "Chocolate ice cream" and received a proposal of marriage.

An old guy coming into the market, as I was exiting, looked at me and said "Chocolate ice cream …… I love chocolate ice cream …… marry me" and didn’t care who heard him say it.

I began laughing, which seemed to encourage him because he turned, took a few steps to follow behind me (don’t worry; I wasn’t going to let him follow me to the car), still talking, giving me his qualifications, starting with …… "I’m 62".

Appreciating his boldness in getting straight to the chase I said, "I’m older than you" which seemed to slow his roll.

He left it at "God is good", which I took to mean I was looking good for being older than his 62, then he walked back towards the market entrance, repeating "God is Good" twice more.

Other than that, nothing’s shaking …… especially here at the complex.

Before heading out to the market, I went to detour to the mail room and then to check on the folks in the Community Room on this Kesha Tuesday, but ran into the Baker who indicated everything was closed off due to start of the exterior upgrade of the complex …… painters working on the main building and the mail room.

Baker also tells me the rooms being roped off today doesn’t matter, because Kesha hasn’t been around on a Tuesday for quite some time.

Hmmmmm????

The current paint on the exterior looks fine to me, not in need of a paint upgrade, but what do I know other than Management seems to spend a boatload of money on the outside, penny pinches on upgrading or making repairs to the inside, and spend practically nothing on events.

Their priorities are F’d up.

But for the Baker hosting Easter Luncheon, there would have been nothing for the seniors, because Management did absolutely nothing for Easter. Not even the usual bag of potato chips.

So, anyway, in conversation with the Baker, I asked about Dream Lover and, sure enough, he and Lu are fighting again …… have broken up.

She said she can’t keep up with which one is mad at the other and for what reason as it happens so often, LOL, only that they are currently not a couple; but instead of chasing someone else’s tail this time around, Dream Lover got a job …… two actually.

He works at the hospital in Loma Linda, escorting people around and volunteers at one of the senior centers in Fontana.

She said she’s booked Dream Lover to man the grill at the Memorial Day BBQ by which time, if he hasn’t hooked up with someone else, he and Lu will probably be on again.

Management doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to prep the vacant unit across from me. I’ve not seen anyone come in to clean, paint, new carpet.

However, that tacky doormat is gone; but only because I couldn’t take it any longer, grabbed the red cover on my way to the trash bin last Friday, left the doormat that was beneath the red cover in place, tossed the cover in with the trash.

On the 4th Day of Christmas

It’s a cool and windy 64 degrees today, but the chill factor has me feeling like I'm freezing, that it's about to snow, so I'm all bundled up in my camo onesie, hood up, to try to keep warm without turning on the heat.

I did redress in warm clothing and headed out to pick up photos I’d had developed at the drugstore, which drugstore is across the street from a branch of the market I frequent.

I really didn’t need anything, but Find the Elf was due back December 1 so, figuring the games afoot, I thought of things I could probably use, just so I could hunt.

I was expecting to see the usual sign with the name of the elf saying "Our Hometown Elf is back. Find the hidden elf around the store and get a fun free treat", but no such sign was posted.

Figuring store management just hadn’t gotten around to the elf thing, I didn’t hunt; just picked up kale, potatoes and headed for the check stand where I asked, "Are you not bringing back the elf this year?"

I was told, "Yes, he’s here. I don’t know where he is, but he’s here".

"I don’t see the usual signs", said I.

"An announcement was made earlier".

What the hell use is an announcement?

What if you’re not there to hear the announcement?

So, anyway, now knowing there was an elf hidden in the store, plan was to go to the car, drop off the purchase, head back into the store to hunt; BUT, waiting for change, I glanced around and VOILA!, there the elf was, staring straight at me from its perch over the security guard.

"There it is", I excitedly exclaimed; whereupon, the cashier turned, looked, didn’t see it until I pointed out "Over the security guard".

Pausing on my way out to capture pics of the find, an elderly lady smiled, asked "How many elves do you have to find?"

"Just the one".

"There’s two in the store", said she and led me to the instore banking area where the tellers had propped an elf up behind their workstation.

It was a different looking elf from the one the store usually hides, kinda cheap looking, so I said, "That’s not the one we have to find. It’s a decoy", causing the tellers to laugh and say, "Yes. A decoy".

So, mission accomplished, I’m back in my unit, trying to stay warm with homemade coffee (not Starbucks, Bob) while redressed in that camo onesie.

Mutual Admiration Society

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas up in here. The Santa Chairs, Boot Stocking, front door and patio decorations are all in place.

There’s a view from the bedroom window of a lighted patio, two other residents on the front side of my building have lights up.

Heading out this morning for the market, I could see one of the residents across the quad has a Santa on her patio and returning, having to drive through the opposite gate, because I’m not sure the gate on my side is fixed, I saw two other patios decked out for Christmas.

So, it’s at least looking good for a festive appearance around here.

While at the market, just as I was turning into the bulk water isle, a young man who looked around 18/19 walked over and said, "I want to say something", so I paused.

"You see that guy over there (pointing to a guy, also around 18/19, smiling our way from the Bakery Department), he’s my best friend in the world".

No idea where he was going with telling me that, so I said what I was thinking …… "He’s cute" (he was).

"He said you’re pretty".

WOW! Mutual admiration going on.

I should have said, "Thank you for telling me", but that was all there was to the encounter, as we went our different ways smiling, me saying to myself, "He's got good taste for a kid".

Tell Me Anything

Still waiting for the picture frame to arrive. Tracking indicates still in transit, even though the notice indicates it was scheduled to be delivered Friday.

I’m holding my breath this is not a repeat of the craft lamp I’d ordered that was delivered, but not to me, not even to my building, just disappeared into the ethers.

I’ve just about got the hundred or so photos of the Great Grandbabies (backed up since last December) organized so I can began placing them into the Creative Memory album, and because my brain is in creative mode — individual photos are speaking to me telling me what background paper would work well and layouts are swimming in my head, last few days have been constant motion ……… Up, down, around, up down around for hours, in one room to search through my paper stash, to the table to organize photos, to the couch to document ideas into a document on the laptop, bending, stooping, lifting. If I’d worn my tracker, I’m sure I would have clocked in at least three miles per day and my route would look something like this, with occasional detours to the kitchen.

Needless to say, I haven’t had the time or inclination to socialize with the seniors. My only contact has been a text message from Talker saying "You’re coming to Thanksgiving on the 21st aren’t you?"

"I am" was my reply.

It’s an eating event and, because I have to control was ingredients are in the foods I eat, I generally do not attend eating events. However, the Baker had already told me she was roasting a turkey and, because she’s doing the cooking, I’m comfortable with the hygiene and that there won’t be any seasonings added that will cause my sensitive gut to rebel.

BTW, at the Halloween event, I saw the Baker and MAGA standing at the open refrigerator and spotted two turkeys.

Baker tells me Dream Lover supplied the turkeys.

Who needs Management and an Activity Director when we can pull together to do for ourselves.

And an additional BTW, management told us they withhold money from Kesha so they can use the funds to give us parties at Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Thanksgiving is 16 days away and there has been no mention of management hosting the usual Thanksgiving event, and I'm not holding my breath for Christmas.

Where's the money going?

Baker also indicated there will be sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce and other sides.

I can eat sweet potatoes, have to pass on the cranberry sauce, and will make my own gluten free/fodmap dressing, gravy and hope Upstairs Lady and the MAGA around the corner don’t irritate me into tossing my cookies or walking out to keep from yelling at them.

Late Thursday afternoon, I stepped outside to take trash to the dumpster, saw MAGA turn a corner off in the distance, waved hello, dropped the trash in the bin, began walking back to my unit when she called for me to wait up.

Looking harried and a bit disheveled she said, "Can I tell you something".

Puzzled, I said "sure".

She went into this soliloquy about having words with someone she would not name, other than to say the individual is a bully.

HA! So is she. She just doesn’t know it.

"I’m not going to tell you what the argument was about, but I defended myself. Now that person is going around telling others stuff about me, and I just want to ask that if you hear anything, you take into consideration there are two sides to every story".

"Not to worry", said I. "I’m an independent thinker, not easily manipulated; besides, people around here generally don’t tell me stuff like that".

She kept going on about it and, because my brain was in creative mode, I didn’t retain more of what she said except, at one point, she was talking about other people this person supposedly had bullied, so I guessed it was Upstairs Lady.

"No. It’s L" (the Talker) she said.

Well, that was a surprise. MAGA is beefing with Talker.

I don’t really care one way or another. My name is Bennett and I’m not in it.

However, though MAGA didn’t tell me what the argument was about, I can guess that, per usual, control freak that she is, MAGA opened her mouth, got into conversations that were none of her business — like she did at last week’s Halloween event that so annoyed me, tried to control what others should think, say, feel in front of Talker and, as I’m sure it wasn’t MAGA’s first time to do so in front of Talker, only this time Talker had had enough, yelled and told MAGA off like I’d wanted but restrained myself from doing last week, and MAGA verbally fought back.

That must have been quite something to see and, because MAGA still seemed upset about words having been said and Talker now badmouthing her, I’m sure it’s not over.

My head will be on swivel at the Thanksgiving event to see if it spills over, LOL.

The very next day, getting out of the car in the market parking lot, I heard a man’s agitated voice off in the distance say, "I know her! She’s a friend of my wife!"

I looked around, didn’t see anything but, before I stepped away from the car, here comes this man looking enraged. He stopped in front of me (I didn’t feel the least bit threatened, his energy wasn’t that) and told me the story.

Evidently, he was having a conversation with a woman on the lot. A female store employee approached, asked the woman he was speaking with "Are you okay, ma'am?".

Whereupon he’d uttered those words I’d heard about knowing the woman, that she was a friend of his wife.

Seeing him upset/offended, the store employee had then said, "I have to check".

He was highly insulted, told me, "I work for a living. I’m not a threatening person; it was none of her business. We were talking. My voice was not raised" yada yada yada.

"I’m sorry that happened to you", said I, "But in all fairness to the store employee, one never knows these days".

He wasn’t having it and continued to rant until he got it out of his system; whereupon I said, "Don’t let it ruin your day" and continued on into the market.

My week in a nutshell the few times I left my sanctuary, ventured into the outside world ………

Overthinking or Gut Instinct?

The Usual Suspects are nicer/kinder than myself, do not want to put a lock on the refrigerator. Instead, Crafty Lady asked me to make signs — one for the refrigerator, which she herself cleaned on Wednesday …

One for the microwave, which she also cleaned on Wednesday …

Mention of the cameras may be all it takes, but we’ll see.

When Crafty Lady first texted, asking me to make the signs, she offered to donate for paper and ink. I declined saying not necessary, that flyers and such are my way of supporting the community.

She was to have picked up the signs yesterday, on her way to 2:00 bible study in the Community Room …… there’s a group of residents that meet every Thursday to study scripture, led by the Bible Thumper that so got on my nerves a few years back.

When she didn’t show, and I later saw her on the walkway headed to her unit, I figured she’d forgotten.

Sure enough, a little while later she texted she’d forgotten, asked if I would be home today.

I’d replied no, that I had to make a run to Sprouts, but would drop the signs off at bingo (which I figured would be in progress by the time I returned).

She then texted, "Do you go to Sprouts often?"

"Oh, oh" thought I. Sensing she might want to tag along next time and me being a person that doesn't care for tagalongs, I answered without answering, said that Sprouts is the only store that offers products my sensitive stomach can tolerate.

She then texted that she’d been trying to find alfalfa sprouts, could she give me cash to buy for her.

I said sure, no problem, I’d purchase, let her know the cost after.

I was impressed with the Halloween display at Sprouts.

Wish I’d thought of adding a garland of fall leaves to my patio display — intertwined in the railings.

Returning to the complex, I popped into bingo, gave Crafty Lady the signs/alfalfa sprouts, told her to pay it forward (because, inasmuch as she gives us craft supplies no charge, not charging for the alfalfa is the right thing to do).

Instead of saying thank you, she said "Give me a hug", stood up, spread out her arms, wrapped her arms around me, pulled me in for a hug that lasted a little too long.

I found it unnecessary, really weird and strangely uncomfortable.

I feel Crafty Lady is trying to get too close and familiar with me at a level I would not like.

I question her reason for doing so.

Not only did she early on send me a Facebook friend request, which I declined, she always greets me in text and in person with "Hey, beautiful".

I don’t know folks. You can probably guess by now what my gut is telling me, while my head is saying no, you’re overthinking it because she has children, grandchildren, but I’m not so naïve as to not know that doesn’t mean what my gut is telling me can’t still be so.

I’ll still attend Crafts on Monday, hope what I’m sensing and what my gut is telling me is simply overthinking, and if it's not overthinking, that she has the good sense to pick up, understand and respect that I’m strictly dickly before she crosses the line.

Bad for My Image

Having long enjoyed being considered the "Hot Girl" amongst us old folks, the new jewelry Twin 1 ordered is putting my image in serious jeopardy.

After looking into Will Jay’s suggestions to "design some jewelry or fiber art to hide/disguise the Life Alert device" and thus far drawing a blank, I thought maybe I’d just tuck it in.

But then Will Jay’s story about a friend’s mom setting off an accidental alert by tucking the device in her waistband got me to thinking how easily it would be for the device to get squeezed into an alert tucked in such a snug place, not to mention it sometimes gets hot in there and that alone might set off a false alarm.

Maybe I can just shorten the rope, turn the device into a choker, thought I.

Nope! That makes the device even more obvious.

I looked into exchanging the pendant for a bracelet or watch, but Life Alert only offers the option of a necklace pendant with its systems.

So, I dunno but, heading for the market today, I decided to give tucking a try.

Crossing the parking lot, I ran into Next Door Neighbor. The device, tucked inside, she never even noticed there was something attached to the rope as we chatted for a while about what a great job my boyfriend in my head Dark Gavin is doing ("Dark" because, taking a step from blog friend Dawn who, when pushed transforms into Dark Dawn, and now seeing my boyfriend transforming into a version of The Punisher, I've rewarded him with the superhero name of Dark Gavin).

I did have to be careful in placement of the car’s seat belt, because the normal position was right across the device, sure to put pressure on the button, set it off.

I had to position the belt above the device, across my throat.

I can't get a ticket for the awkward, probably unsafe, position as the law only says to wear it, and it's being worn.

While in the market, I did some bending, stooping, reaching. None of these motions seemed likely to result in an accidental alert. So, thus far, it seems tucking is the way to go.

One of the items on my marketing list was kale. I eat a lot of kale, I mean a lot, a lot and saw it today was selling $3 for two bunches, but who do they think they’re kidding.

Kale aficionado that I am, I noticed right away the price is not a bargain, that what used to be one healthy bunch at $2.50 is now selling as two slimmer bunches, i.e., the two smaller bunches at $3.00 is the same amount of kale in one bunch previously sold for $2.50, but disguised as 2 for $3.00 — $0.50 cents more.

No matter. I'll buy kale however bountiful or not the bunch, whatever price.

Not on my grocery list were these Aloha bell peppers, but they called my name. So wanting to see if they taste any different than regular bells, and because they’re pretty, I purchased two.

BTW, under the title of Work Smarter Not Harder, did you know you can dispense with hand massaging, and instead use the mixer to massage your kale.

Gentle Reminder

Since the BBQ, it’s been quiet as a tomb around here. I spotted nothing and no one out/about all weekend long. More than likely, probably because it’s been too hot to go outside.

Not ready to face another Monday this morning, I nevertheless put on my big girl panties, headed out for the Pain Cave and, crossing the parking lot, spotted Fire Rescue in front of Painted Rock Lady’s unit.

She’s had a very hard time lately — in/out of the hospital for respiratory issues, then for a broken hip.

She has a good support system of neighbors who take care of her dog when she's hospitalized; look in on her, grocery shop, whatever she needs when released from the hospital to recuperate at home.

She has a little dog, and it was the dog that caused the first hip break by pushing her out of bed.

Her recent injury is yet another hip break and, believe it or not, the cause being pushed out of bed by the little dog.

"She probably needs a bigger bed", said I when being told of this latest injury; and it was said, "She’s been told she can no longer have the dog".

I'm assuming that came from the doctor, because she can't risk another fall or trip over the dog.

I dunno. The whole story of her dog trying to unalive her, pushing her out of the bed not once, but twice, sounds sus, but stranger things have happened.

At any rate, I don’t know what befell her this morning that Fire Rescue was at her door, but since they didn’t take her out on a stretcher, I’m guessing that since she’d still recouperating from the latest hip operation, can’t get around to fall, it must have been the breathing thing, maybe a problem with her oxygen tank.

Popping into the market after this morning’s workout, I got in line behind a woman who had just the cutest little kids in her cart — four of them, all Red Haired/Gingers.

They waved at me, I waved back. One asked "What are you doing here". "Buying tomatoes", said I and asked the mom if she does TikTok, know what’s being said about Gingers.

And here I got the gentle reminder Infinite Spirit sometimes gives me to not be so friendly when out and about because not everyone is friendly not everyone has a sense of humor.

Mom was cold and rigid in her response that NO. She doesn’t TikTok and could care less what is said about Gingers because she’s heard it all.

"It’s not bad" said I, and then thought that if she’s racist, she might see it as bad, so I said, "It’s not bad, depending on how you see things".

Mom had nothing to say, but her tense uptight body spoke volumes. So, I ended the attempt at being friendly with, "Well, you’ll have to figure out what’s being said for yourself", because I didn’t dare risk infuriating her further by telling her.

Maybe she’ll be curious, ask around, look it up. If not, no sweat off my back as I walked out of the market still smiling and in a good mood; but once again kicking myself for forgetting to not be so open and friendly when out and about because people are walking around angry, miserable, humorless and want to stay that way.

It’s a shame those cute kids have such a pill for a mom.

If you don’t TikTok, have no idea of the fun trend going around about Gingers …… A woman posted that people with "Red Hair are Black …… Gingers are Black".

She gives no evidence to support this hypothesis. It was just something she came up with and it’s gone viral.

Gingers are posting cool things about now being considered a part of the Black community; Black people are welcoming Gingers to the family, inviting them to the Cookout. It’s just a silly, feel-good, inclusive thing going around, distracting from so much which is ugly and exclusive.

Like this guy's posting of "My mood when learning Gingers are Black".

And prepping the kids for what to expect at the Cookout.

Happy Belated Mother’s Day

Logging into the laptop this morning, the first thing flashing across the screen was "Egg prices are plummeting".

I'd not describe it as "Plummeting", when I just yesterday noticed an 18-count carton of organic eggs dropped a lousy $1.00 — from $13.99 to $12.99, but it’s a start.

Mother’s Day has come and gone — my 58th, and it was awright.

I received the obligatory texts from the usual suspects — Twin 1, Twin 2, Granddaughter.

I feel bad for my twins. They always want to take me somewhere to eat, do something fun, buy me something, but my worsening gut issues precluded my going anywhere to eat, there’s no place I wanted to go, nothing I wanted to do, nothing I needed. All of which made a not fun Mother’s Day for my girls, as I was content doing laundry and housework.

I had the Laundry Room all to myself, the flowers in the area around the Laundry Room were in full bloom for Mother’s Day, so I enjoyed the peaceful setting.

Talker walked by, saw me doing laundry, came in to give me a Mother’s Day hug and a side of tea.

There’s a new woman in Dream Lover’s life, but it’s not what you think.

Evidently, Dream Lover has a new neighbor — a woman who has taken a dislike to him and demonstrates her dislike by, instead of taking her trash to the dumpster, tosses it in front of DL’s door.

That’s pretty extreme.

Of course, DL went to Manager over it, got the usual "I'll talk to her", but it's unclear as to whether Manager actually did, because the woman has tossed trash at his door more than once OR if the woman was spoken to and, not caring what Manager had to say, continues to trash DL's area.

I’ll have to see who this new neighbor is, determine if management has done it again …… brought in a resident who is not well in the head, or if DL made his usual play …… "I’m looking for a nice woman to spend time with" and she did not appreciate it. Is tossing her trash as if to say to DL that she can see through him and he’s trash.

This scares me a little about who we’ll next get in our quad, when TinTin’s vacant unit is leased out. I’m hoping our good Chi in the quad will attract someone nice, but you never know.

The Activity Calendar indicated, instead of today being Pizza Tuesday, it's a late celebration of Mother’s Day …… "Social: Mother’s Day Luncheon. Celebrate Mother’s Day with a community luncheon full of fun, connection and appreciation for all the amazing moms, grandmothers, Aunts, Sisters, Friends, mentors, etc."

I guess Great Grandmothers fall into the "etc" category, LOL.

I wasn’t planning on attending because I can’t eat whatever is being served; besides, I had an appointment with my Primary at the Main Medical Center — the first time I’ve been able to actually meet with my doctor, face to face, since 2019; and accomplished only because that RN I’d two-weeks ago interacted with by phone, when my BP recorded 173, sent a message to the doctor’s care team that she should see me. Otherwise, it would have taken three months to get an appointment.

I’m actually surprised my doctor hasn’t retired yet, as she’s about my age, maybe a few years younger.

She looks great though, hasn’t aged much — probably because her culture is one that the women do keep their beauty as they age. The men, not so much.

At any rate, she joked about watching her patients age with her, adjusted my BP medication, had her nurse give me a tetanus shot, ordered Lab work — which I’ll take care of later this week, or next week, at a different facility, because the Lab Section at the Main Medical Center was way too peopley for me.

On the way to the Med Center, the dash cam captured a woman, on the far side of middle-age, in handcuffs.

That's her white car blocking the lane.

Mother's Day only two days ago, and mom or grandma is in cuffs.

I’ve never in my life been handcuffed, not even for roleplay fun when I was married to the cop, and could not imagine what an older lady could have done to be removed from her car, in traffic, and handcuffed.

So Far So Good

Social security hit the bank in a timely manner, 18-count organic eggs went down 20 cents — from $13.99 to $13.79, and I’ve not run into that creepy little guy, so life has been okay last few days.

I folded on Rent Café and signed up for management's portal …… with the added precaution of setting up the account at a separate bank.

I'm not happy about giving in, but it is what it is.

Registering for the online portal was way too complicated, a headache.

I’m computer literate and still had trouble figuring it all out, so there is not much hope the seniors who are unaccustomed to computers and smartphones will be able to comply with management removing the drop box, expecting the seniors to register for the online portal.

End of this month, when rent is due, is going to be a shiz show with residents walking into the office, demanding their checks be accepted.

Elsewhere, it’s looking like we might be getting a new neighbor in the quad sooner rather than later, as maintenance is already feverishly working on getting TinTin’s vacant unit ready for a new tenant, starting with removing all that crap plastered on the window.

Could it be we actually have a waiting list again?

I just hope management doesn’t bring in another someone with issues that the county is desperate to house.

In other complex news, though Dream Lover seems to have backed up off Lu, it looks like they are still on friendly terms, as the photos of last Friday’s bingo — sent for me to post to the Resident’s facebook page, showed the two sitting at the same table. What was different is there was a respectable distance between the two. Lu wasn’t crawling all over him, touching, rubbing.

Could that be why Lu all of a sudden got a dog?

Guess she just had to have something to rub.

The weather around here has been drab, dreary, cold, rainy last few days. That didn’t stop Twin 1 from showing up yesterday.

She’d been asked to come down to San Bernardino, service the homeless at a rather large encampment that has taken over a Community Center in a rough area.

I was worried, didn’t want her to go anywhere near that area, even though she had her long-time security guy coming down to accompany her, and had no problem getting volunteers to help when she posted a request for seven people from the San Bernardino community to help.

So, anyway, Twin 1 showed up at my place early Thursday with the truck donated by Miley Cyrus to the non-profit.

After running around gathering supplies, she had dinner with her sister, Twin 2.

First time my girls have been able to manage their schedules to appear together at the same time since October ’22, when Twin 1 arranged an all-day spa thing for her twin and I ─ facials, rose water baths, massages, the whole nine yards.

Up early this morning, Twin 1 was off as soon as her security guy arrived, met up with the volunteers — who, bless their hearts, were so eager to be a part of helping the homeless that they texted they were already at the site waiting for her.

Turns out my worry was for naught. She said the homeless were respectful, appreciative, that she’ll return to service them again.

On the way back to my place, she and her security guy spotted the homeless encampment that’s been building up across the street — not so large, rough and terrifying looking IMO as the encampment at the Community Center, pulled over, gave them what was left on the truck. It was just she and her security guy at this point, but she said the homeless were respectful.

So, it’s looking like Twin 2 and I will be seeing a lot more of Twin 1 in the future, as she adds the homeless of San Bernardino to her servicing area.

Also stopping by yesterday was Little Knock Knock, only she’s not so little any longer.

2023

2025

They grow up so fast.

Guess Who and What is Back

Yep, that’s the same older panhandler from last week, the one that got that $20 I found.

I guess he had such a good payday at that location that he decided to return.

Later, after thinking about my not giving him anything, I decided it would not have hurt me to help him out. There’s something about the twinkle in the old guy’s eyes. So, I’ve decided to take him on as a project. If I see him again, and it’s no more often than once-a-week, I can afford to spot him the occasional $20.

That’s the Who is back, as for the What ……… remember when Manager tried to lure us into signing up for Rent Café, the third-party portal designed for us to pay rent online, have rent automatically deducted from our accounts at an additional $3.00 a month charge.

She first tried to lure us in by offering a gift card lottery for us to sign up, offering to dispense with the $3.00 a month fee ……… but just for the initial signing up month.

Not getting the wanted response, Manager’s next move was to dispense with the paper form we’d fill out for work orders and tied it into Rent Café …… making it necessary for us to join Rent Café in order to submit work orders online.

Still no takers, Manager’s next move was to tie the Monthly Activity Calendar into the Rent Café — no more paper calendar posted to our doors. We have to access online through Rent Café.

I’m sure Corporate is pushing Manager to get us signed up, and it’s not just that we don’t trust this corporation with direct access to our bank accounts, it’s also that not many here have computers or smart phones to access the portal even if they wanted to.

So, anyway, we’ve thus far been able to get our hands on the Activity Calendar through other means, the last being check the Community Room for a printout.

I did that yesterday, but found no printout.

That’s because I later yesterday received the Activity Calendar through email, from Manager, along with a notice indicating, in big bold letters "AS OF APRIL 1, 2025, THERE WILL BE NO RENT DROP OFF BOX, to make rental payments easier please create an account with Rent Café and pay your rent online".

WTH. She won't give up. Has now blocked us from paying rent unless we sign up for Rent Café.

Is that even legal?

Fortunately, I dropped my check into the drop box a few days ahead of April 1st, but I wondered how those who generally drop off their payments on the 1st were going to pay rent if in fact Manager did remove the drop box.

I went down to check …… the drop box is indeed blocked off.

Talking to the Baker, she said she’s told those who don’t have computers or smart phones to just walk their checks into the office, that management has to accept payment.

I’m not so sure management will allow that, but how else can those who have no access to online manage?

As for me ……… during the no-contact Pandemic days, I mailed my rent check into the office. I’ll be doing that again, making sure to mail it a week ahead of the 1st, giving time for payment to get through the mail process and in management's hands before the 1st.

There’s more than one way to skin a cat.

Two things happened when I popped into the market this morning ……… well actually three things because I forgot to check with my egg contact, see if he had anything for me, which means I’ll have to stop by the market after Friday’s workout.

The second thing was that the cashier asked, "You staying home Saturday?"

"Why, what’s happening Saturday?"

"The protest, but I understand Black people are not participating".

I don't know which protest she's referring to, but she's right about Black people not participating.

Other than working my voodoo dolls, not patronizing Target or Walmart, I and other POC are not out on the streets fighting this one because we told you so. This one is for those who did not listen to clean up.

I didn't say that to cashier, I just said "I stay home every day except workout days anyway, but Cory Booker stood up, so I’m voting for him as our next President".

The third thing to happen at the market was that behind me in line was Name Dropper, one of the newer residents — the woman who was quick to drop the name John Travolta, said her granddaughter is an actress, had a role with Travolta when she was a child.

I meant to offer Name Dropper a ride back to the complex, but distracted by the cashier’s question about Saturday, I totally forgot Name Dropper was there.

Didn’t remember her until, once in the car, driving out of the store’s parking lot, I saw her walking with her cart.

Pulling alongside, I apologized for not offering her a ride sooner, asked if she wanted one.

She declined, but said she’d just bought a box of wine, we should exchange telephone numbers. "You are so funny. I really love you, you should come to my unit, have a glass of wine with me".

Huh?

I'm glad she declined the ride, because she kinda gave me the creeps.

Seems to be going down, the way of Sue and Smoker Patty

She no longer looks healthy. I assume because she's inside her unit, lonely, depressed that life has landed her in an unglamorous place like this, drinking like Sue and Patty.

Plus, she scared me with that "I love you" crap.