The Red Invitation

On Wednesday, I got through the last of the hard parts and finished the book written by the Great Granddaughter I never knew I had.

Available on Amazon

It ended on a high note, with her doing great things … a non-profit, podcasts, a goal of connecting with other adoptees/foster youths, create safe spaces.

How was I depicted in the book you ask?

"My GG (great grandma) does voodoo". LOL.

She’s not entirely correct, but she’s not entirely wrong.

Also on Wednesday, through the kitchen window, I noticed something red posted to White-Haired Neighbors' door.

If she had something posted to her door, it was likely I also had something. Opened the door, checked and sure enough … it was an invitation from management to attend "Let’s Give Thanks – join us for a Thanksgiving Lunch, Tuesday November 24th".

WHAT!? Now I’m getting scared.

First, management threw that Halloween Party on the 30th of last month, and now they’re hosting a Thanksgiving event just weeks later????. Like, why are they suddenly being so good to us?

No question, I won’t be attending because it’s a purely eating event, and I can’t eat anything they are likely to serve. Plus, and too, there’s likely to be that annoying bullshite ceremony where they go around the room, everyone says what they are thankful for.

That's a little too hokey for me. So, if photos are to be taken for posting to the Residents’ facebook page, one of the Usual Suspects will have to take them, forward to me for posting.

I had been considering heading to Long Beach for the Thanksgiving Holiday but then, I remembered how boring Long Beach had been during a former Thanksgiving visit. Not to mention, reviews on my favorite hotel in the downtown area, with a view of the Queen Mary, seems to indicate the hotel and area have gone down considerably, because the area has been taken over by the unhoused.

Confirming with granddaughter, she tells me it has gotten bad, for that reason … you can’t even safely walk in the area, the noxious smells, sidewalks littered with animal and human feces.

So, if I go, I’ll have to switch to a hotel she suggested that’s near the airport.

There’s also to consider that, if I go for Thanksgiving, I’m likely to run into White Grandma (whom the great grandbabies call "Pink Grandma" as opposed to Twin 1, whom they referred to as "Brown Grandma"). I’m just "GG", no color assigned, LOL.

I’m thinking, I’ll save the visit for closer to Christmas when I can do "Breakfast with Santa" with the toddlers at the Aquarium of the Pacific.

Lastly, on Wednesday … the day when she who shall henceforth remain nameless on this here blog because she told me there would no longer be crafts on Wednesdays, those days supposedly reserved for doctor appointments and then proceeded to have sessions nevertheless, leaving me out of the notification process, the seniors had crafts. They made decorative plates.

Mushrooms!!

This month of Halloween is moving way too fast. Only three days before the big day and then a few day's grace period to put the decorations away to avoid getting a lease violation.

I didn’t put a lot out on display, so should be prompt and easy work.

Since there wasn't much Halloween decorating going on around here, I last week gave myself something to see by copying spooky nail art I saw online.

This week, I’m trying something less severe.

On Monday, there was a little tap tap tap on the door. It almost sounded like a cat scratching.

It was the now not so little Knock Knock paying me a visit, I guess she’s developed a more mature knock, LOL.

She tells me she’s going to be Ghostface for Halloween.

I generally keep up but had never heard of Ghostface, had to google it.

Seems "Ghostface" is the proper name for what I’ve always referred to as the "Scream Mask".

Ghostface doesn’t seem Knock Knock’s style. She’s usually more creative, like last year she did Wednesday Addams and, the year before, she did the Joker’s Girlfriend Harley Quinn.

What would have been fun would be to see Knock Knock cosplay as Megan, the doll that does a little wiggle dance just before she whacks bad people.

Out walking today, I saw mushrooms growing in the grassy knoll area.

Seeing mushrooms growing in a yard is supposedly a symbol of good luck …… "for the Olmec, Zapotec, Maya, and Aztec cultures, mushrooms, called Teonanácatl, were declared as sacred and described as God’s flesh."

It does strike me as odd that I’ve not seen those mushrooms before while out walking, and they look so picture perfect, as though deliberately placed there and couldn’t possibly have sprung up like that, looking so healthy and all, overnight …… unless by cosmic magic.

So, I’m going to accept them as a symbol of good luck, head out tomorrow for a lottery ticket.

I don’t imagine they’ll last long …… someone will harvest them for a meal, or the landscapers will mow over, but I’ll check on them tomorrow afternoon.

The New York Times is considering Twin 1 as an entry in a special category of Times' Person of the Year.

The reporter contacted me today to ask questions about Twin 1 …… just when I was beginning to feel myself returning to Center.

Telling her I am not yet in a place where I can accept my Baby Girl is no longer here …… talk about what kind of child/person she was, I asked that instead of interviewing me on the phone to email me her questions and I’ll see what I can do.

So, there’s that …… always something to remind me of that which I'd rather not be reminded of.

Book Review

The book written by the 19-year-old Great Granddaughter that I never knew I had – available on Amazon in Kindle and Paperback, started off as a quick read.

I don’t think she knows what a Blog is, but it reads somewhat like one -- reporting that this happened on this day, that happened on that day.

The first half of the book is raw, the portrait of a dark era when she didn’t know who she was, had little control of self and "I felt like nobody understood me".

This era was a revelation to me as it disclosed a side of ghetto life I myself have never been exposed to, with words I’d never heard but understood to be urban language … like "dukes" meaning "adopted parents/family".

The next half of the book is more lighthearted … details how she searched, located, connected with her biological family and, once again, this era was a revelation to me as I read about things happening in our dysfunctional family that were never disclosed to me.

Not all that surprising, because Twin 1 and Twin 2 both have always been very guarded as to what I was allowed to know, did not want me to be upset or disappointed in them. Would tell the grands, "Don’t tell grandma"; and, when someone would slip and tell me something I wasn’t to know, it was always with, "Don’t tell I told you", LOL.

Life is about choices and, as difficult as it is at times to have to stand to the side and let people make choices that look to be leading to hard lessons, we have to accept it's how growth and waking up works.

I’m just glad I didn’t know about the things I’m reading about now, and not all that happy about knowing it now; but I was okay/handling it until the book got to Twin 1’s passing … the press, conspiracy theories surrounding how/why she passed, cyber bullying of family members, and then the funeral.

Having not yet made peace with the loss of Twin 1, having not allowed anyone to bring it up, having bypassed all news and videos relating to a funeral happening, treating it almost as though it hasn’t happen, this is where I broke.

I’ve had to put the book down. Don’t know when and if I’ll pick it up again; but, next time I see Great Granddaughter, I will have her sign it.

Looking at what Great Granddaughter is doing with her life now, how she's come through what she had to experience, seems to have had a decent adoptive family, has been taken into the fold by her biological family (with two abstaining), I’m just going to leave things as they are, stay in the moment.

I don't know if I can say this book is for everybody, as I think, just like a blog, Great Granddaughter has written it for herself with the hope it reaches her tribe -- "adoptees, foster children, people who have been separated from their families, and anyone who has ever questioned where they belong".

Columbus Day ???

Would you believe that, the day of the Celebration of Life, it was 100◦ and that later that night it rained. It’s been raining every day since.

That’s not a complaint. We desperately needed the rain. It’s just that the switcheroo in weather was so extreme … from excessive heat to dark gloomy wet cold.

While at the Celebration, I learned we came thisclose to losing another member of the Usual Suspects.

While on a cruise that included 85 church members, she became deathly ill, unable to walk or breathe. Ended up hospitalized for 40 days, where it was determined she’d contracted a respiratory infection. They think it had something to do with the recycled water on the ship.

Saying, "I almost died" she added that while hospitalized, she’d been asked to step up on something, twisted her foot, broke her ankle.

That was some vacation, and out of the 85 on the cruise, only she and one other were impacted by whatever bacteria caused the infection.

She fortunately survived, is back now wearing a cast from the broken ankle; saying she feels okay, but I can hear a difference in the way she speaks … her voice has a raspy sound to it.

It wasn't long ago when, one other of our Usual Suspects left the complex to take a vacation, fell, broke her hip, ended up in rehab.

It's kinda spooky.

I forgot to ask if the other lady, that contracted the infection, had survived.

On the dysfunctional family front, the Great Granddaughter that, until last year I never knew I had, has written a book, available on Amazon in Kindle and Paperback, about growing up adopted.

"Everyone knows what it feels like to start somewhere you never expected to stay, to look at your circumstances and wonder, can something beautiful really come from this … when everything around you seems determined to keep you small. We call it struggle. But sometimes, struggle is where strength takes root".

"In From the Concrete, Alanah Jones explores the journey of becoming through seasons of uncertainty, growth, setbacks, and transformation. Like a seed forcing its way through concrete, this book speaks to the courage it takes to grow when the environment around you was never designed to make growth easy".

PIVOT!

Today's crafts session was cancelled due to Crafty Lady having heart palpitations.

She's been having heart problems for a while and, back in April had an operation … something about putting a watchman in her chest.

Her heart problems have not gone away but, so long as she takes it easy, its somewhat manageable. Only she’s not been taking it easy lately.

I saw, a few days ago on her facebook page, that she was working on cleaning crafting supplies from storage she has in Murietta and, just yesterday, also as seen on facebook, she was working on putting together a dresser, rearranged a room for more space, hung an extra curtain panel, so no surprise that today she’s having heart palpitations and her body hurts.

She’s got to be more mindful of her condition … what she can and should not be doing because she can’t die before I do as she’s one of the three points of contact set up to contact granddaughter and Twin 2 when I die.

I wasn’t intending her to be a point of contact, but you might recall when some of the organizers had finished their craft projects, were off planning what to do for the seniors come Thanksgiving, Crafty Lady found out they were doing something with her not in it, got upset, said "I guess I’m not invited to that!".

No matter what she's doing, others are not allowed to leave her out of what they are doing.

There was also the time when Talker and another resident were having a conversation on the opposite side of the Community Room, while Crafty Lady was busy doing something else. However, because she (Crafty Lady) wasn’t included in their conversation, she accused them of talking about her.

All to say she invited herself to be a point of contact for my family.

How that came about was I awoke July 31 from a dream where I was attending one of our events, stopped by a round table … We don't have round tables in the community room. Some tables are square, others are rectangular, so I don't know what that meant inside the dream, but there I was stopping at a round table where was seated Meat Man and a woman I did not recognize.

After chatting with them for a bit, I bid them goodbye, saying "I'll see you at this event next year". Then I heard myself correct myself saying, "Oh, wait. I won’t be here this time next year".

A clear indication to me that I’ll be dead before July 2027.

I took the dream in stride, began making preparations, starting with updating my family contacts sheet with the office and cancelling my eye appointment for new glasses, because it wasn't worth the expenditure. I do need new glasses, but it's not worth it if I only have a year or less to go.

I later that day was in the Community Room filling out the form for the office, telling Talker and the Baker of the dream, that I was giving them a copy of the form/adding them as neighbors allowed to enter my unit, giving a key to the Baker, asking that if I suddenly go missing, not seen for a time, please check to see if I’m still breathing, contact family if not and Crafty Lady blurted out, "Add me to that".

I couldn’t very well say no and really, since she long ago got over that thing she had for me, which made me uncomfortable, I find her to be okay and the one with the most family, friends, resources to be helpful to granddaughter and Twin 2.

So, now that she’s factored into the equation, she can’t go before I do.

I also, at that time, sent Twin 2 and granddaughter a copy of the form with instructions to trust Talker, the Baker, Crafty Lady, but avoid our MAGA neighbor at all costs, LOL.

Now that Meat Man himself has surprised me by moving out of the complex, I’m not sure if that throws a monkey wrench into what the dream told me. It said I would not be here that time next year, not that he would not be here that time next year.

Now that he won’t be here that time next year, I’ll just have to wait and see if the dream still holds true for myself.

So, anyway, with crafts cancelled today, no tutu for Skelly, I pivoted to thinking about that grass skirt I made and wore at the Resident’s End of Summer Event.

Skelly and I aren’t the same size, but I figured I could make it work; began looking through my crafts stash for shells I knew I could probably turn into a Hawaiian lei.

Lo and behold, I found blue tulle fabric I didn't know I had or why I had it.

I worked a little magic with it and Skelly is just about ready for tomorrow's debut on the patio.

Never in My Life

Finishing up the backlog of photos going into my personal Creative Memories scrapbook this morning, I heard myself say to myself "Never in my life did I ever think I’d be adding photos like this to the Memory book".

It was hella hard finishing up that layout, and then the Legacy LA Pride photos, but I got through it.

I’ve said it before; I’ll say it again … The circle of life is incredibly cruel.

No news yet as to whether the Feces Felon has struck again, but I did hear we’ve a new resident on the complex that’s wearing an ankle bracelet.

When I say ankle bracelet, I’m not talking about this …

I’m talking about this …

Not wanting to automatically judge the new resident as being a danger to society, assume that management is leasing to criminals, I went to ChatGPT and asked, "What kind of people require police ankle bracelets?" and got "Police and courts use electronic ankle bracelets to track individuals awaiting trial, serving probation or parole, or placed under house arrest. They are assigned based on risk level, specific offenses like domestic violence or repeat DUI, and as an alternative to jail time."

"Awaiting trial!!!!!! … on Parole!!!!!!! … Risk Level!!!!!"

WTF!!!

Is management running a Halfway House?

I'm now on the lookout for who this new neighbor might be and, actually, a few days ago — before I heard about an ankle bracelet resident, passed a woman I didn't recognize on the walkway. I looked in the eyes, smiled, said "good morning" but now, in retrospect, I'm thinking she looked hard, like someone who could be wearing an ankle bracelet.

At any rate, I'll now be passing, smiling, greeting, looking at ankles, rather than eyes, saying "good morning".

Wazzup?

Still not much going on, except this month’s bingo games have been cancelled, MAGA and Talker had another dust up, the Baker and Di also had a dust up. It went 2.0 …… got physical.

Snug as a bug in a rug under the A/C, working on scrapbooking, cleaning the spice rack of expired spices, reorganizing the kitchen cabinet, I’ve been getting news of the dustups second hand from the parties involved.

Talker tells me MAGA is still following her around, trying to engage/get close and, as usual, has been involving herself in things that are none of her business and aggravating others. Like when she wormed her way into one resident’s life, the resident let her guard down and expressed being depressed.

MAGA feigned worry about the woman’s mental health, called the police, who arrived to check on the woman.

She didn't appreciate it. Expressed to others that she felt betrayed/embarrassed. Withdrew even further because of it.

Then, when Patricia/one of our Usual Suspects passed away, MAGA got involved, feigned being closer to Patricia than Patricia would have allowed, inserted herself into the family’s business.

Another of our Usual Suspects/Louise was out-of-state visiting her daughter, fell, broke a hip and is now recuperating in an out-of-state rehab, staying in contact with Talker and the Baker.

MAGA is losing her mind running around trying to insert herself in Louise’s business, trying to get Louise’s telephone number.

Louise doesn’t like MAGA, would not appreciate a telephone call, we all know this. So, MAGA somehow found out Talker is the point-of-contact, asked Talker for Louise’s location and telephone number. When Talker said she couldn’t give Louise’s personal information to her, MAGA began badgering her for it. When Talker pushed back, MAGA accused Talker of being aggressive and words were exchanged.

Talker needs a restraining order but instead reported the following around, harassing to the office.

Not that anything will be done by management, but so there will be a record on file.

So now, word on the grapevine is to let our families know that if and when we pass away, be on guard for MAGA to try to get involved with our families.

I myself am drafting a text message to granddaughter and Twin 2 to not be fooled by, stay away from, do not be polite to, give no information to MAGA when my time comes.

Speaking of which, I’d previously mentioned Twin 2 gifted me with a cremation package. Since then, I’ve been thinking about wanting my ashes in a cowboy boot cremation urn.

Found it.

At $253.50, I haven’t ordered yet, but I will.

So, anyway, the Baker tells me her dustup with Di occurred when the organizers had gathered in the Community Room to plan bingo, learned the office will be closing early on the days planned for bingo, causing the Community Room to be locked up, decided to cancel August bingo.

At one point, the Baker was on the phone checking something to do with the results of doctor ordered lab work, the results being too high. Di walked into the room, began telling the girls about the woman she testified against being released from prison.

The girls keep doing what they were doing, the Baker on her phone, the others doing whatever, no one engaged.

Di became furious, yelled, "No one f__king cares about what’s happening to me"!

Now let me just say here that, if you haven’t already figured it out from previous postings about her, the Baker is the sweetest, kindest, most generous/patient human being ever …… darn near a Saint.

Di isn’t a bad person, she’s just a basic human …… complicated.

Baker said that when Di yelled no one f__king cares about what’s happening to me, "I lost it. Told Di that no one is paying attention because we’ve all heard a version of it over and over and over"; and, with one of her hands, she grabbed Di by the arm, grabbed her walker (a replacement walker???) with the other hand, escorted Di and the Walker to and outside the door.

"Well, damn", laughed I. "You got physical. Ushered her out the room".

Asking the Baker if she’s seen Di since, she said "She actually returned a few minutes later. Apologized for the outburst".

No one paid attention, no one engaged.

Size Does Matter and the $50 Mistake

Color me disappointed that 25 inches wasn’t larger than it was pictured to be.

The metal Audrey Venus Flytrap Sculpture that I ordered middle of June, for the skeleton planter, arrived yesterday.

Why so long for Audrey to arrive, you ask.

Though there were many vendors of exactly the same Audrey that I could have ordered from, received in days, I happened to unwittingly choose the vendor shipping from China …… customs and all that.

No matter as Venus did finally arrive, but I have to say I’m disappointed.

Though all metal Audreys indicate "25 inches high", the images depict a plant so tall and stately, with ferocious looking bulbs, that my eyes were tricked into thinking 25 inches was just that …… tall, stately, giant of a plant.

Alas, unpackaging Audrey, seeing how small she looked, how not ferocious her bulbs looked, I thought there’d been a mistake …… I measured her.

No mistake. Twenty-five inches she was.

What I thought I was getting

What I got

I’ve always heard that the camera adds 10 pounds. Seems the sellers’ cameras also adds 10 feet.

One needs a microscope to see her, but she’s a cute little thing, so I’ll live with the disappointment.

Also in yesterday's mail was confirmation that the medical device Twin 1 had gifted me, when I ended up in the ER last year, was "deactivated/account cancelled" and good riddance to it because I didn’t like how the company ran its business …… the result of a $50 fee I viewed as a mistake …… no way to run an overpriced business.

When Twin 1 first contracted with the company, I thought it not only excessive, but the device severely overpriced at, if I recall correctly $159 per month, when I could call 911 for free. However, if my wearing the pendant made Twin 1 worry less …… you know, I went along with the program.

Who knew I wasn’t the one to be worried about 💔 😭 …… Twin 1 is gone, I’m still here.

When it took no time for the pendant to break, I began to think not only overpriced, but also cheaply made.

Worse still was, when I called Customer Service for a replacement pendant only to be told it would cost Twin 1 an additional $50.

Outrageous, thought I …… an additional $50 when the pendant was cheaply made, so easy to break and the system was overpriced to begin with. I requested a cancellation of the whole thing.

"It's a 3-year contract, no cancellation", said Customer Service. So, I accepted I was locked in for 3-years and, if still breathing at the end of the term, I’d tell Twin 1 to not renew.

When Twin 1 passed away, Twin 2 called to say she was taking over the contract.

Expressing my dissatisfaction with the company’s business practices, I asked Twin 2 not to, that her sister was the only signatory on the contract, she’s no longer here, I’d like to see just how that company could make me, or anyone else, continue to pay, which meant the company was essentially SOL, would have no choice but to cancel.

Sure enough, when Twin 2 declined taking over the contract, Customer Service asked "Is there anyone else that would sign?" and when she said "no", they made arrangements for the device to be picked up by Fed Ex, sent me that confirmation of deactivation/account cancelled.

Now the thing is …… had they not been so greedy, replaced the pendant at no cost, I would not have wanted to cancel the contract in the first place, would not have been opposed to Twin 2 taking over.

So, all in all, because of a greedy business practice, that company lost $5,724 dollars ($159 per month for 36 months) over $50.

So now, instead of continuing with that medical device, Twin 2 has gifted me with something much more practical …… a cremation package, LOL; saying, "The plan is to keep your energy, because you have really good energy and, when I'm ready to let you go I'll plant you under a tree, watch the tree grow into something beautiful" 💗🤗.

Stuck in Neutral

Several things are going on, related to the painting job being done on the complex; one of which necessitates I get out of dodge for an extended period of time, because I’ll have no place to park the jeep for however many days.

Back in ’23, there was the great paving project that uprooted my parking spot for an entire week. To avoid the chaos/trauma others were experiencing in finding places to park, I booked the jeep into a car park that would only allow parking by the month @ $360.50.

Though fairly nearby, the trek back/forth wasn’t fun because the area was sketchy, inside the facility didn’t feel safe for a woman alone to be wandering around in, but I managed.

Though convenient, I really don’t want to car park again. I thought instead I’d visit Twin 2 in Murietta. However, Twin 2 tells me she not only had not gotten the guest room set up (no mattress), she hasn’t even unpacked from the move.

So that visit not working out, not wanting to book the car park, not wanting to face that harrowing drive back to the Long Beach area, book a hotel to visit the great grands for a week, I decided on a Residence Inn a few cities over, that I know to be attached to a shopping center, which will make it easier to care for my weak stomach as there’s a kitchen, cooking appliances, a refrigerator — it’s like home away from home, but with a gym and safe areas to walk.

I just returned from that road trip to Hollywood, will soon have to hit the road yet again, but I’m stuck in neutral — my now vintage Diane Von Furstenberg suitcase, that I purchased back in the 70’s when it was affordable, still out of storage ready to repack, but I can’t book the hotel until the signs go up detailing what days are involved in no parking.

I know it’s soon because notices were posted to our doors just yesterday, indicating painters were ahead of schedule, would start today on my building. In fact, the building is being power washed as we speak. However, insofar as parking, no such notices have been forthcoming.

From what I’ve seen in other areas, no parking signs just mysteriously appear; but logic tells me that if they’re starting on my building today, the parking area will be next and soon. However, without proper notification, I’m stuck in neutral … constantly having to check morning and night to see if the no parking signs have been posted, so I can make hotel reservations.

Of course this stay is going to cost more than $360, so any thoughts of helping Di out with her situation are off the table, as I’ll need to apply those $$$ to my stayaway.

I haven’t seen any of the Usual Suspects since I returned from Hollywood, probably won’t see anyone until next week, so news on Di and whether Kesha has been able to assist is not yet known by me.

Speaking of Hollywood … this was the photo I took of two dolls' star the day before Pride.

This is the photo, I saw posted to the internet, the very next day .... after the Pride Parade.

LA Pride, Part 2

How it started.

Our Driver Sheri from Auto Museum

Great Granddaughter, Granddaughter, Moi

Reps from Thrive Cosmetics

How it ended.

Our Other Driver

Driving slow, plus the heat of the sun, caused the celebrity car to overheat/breakdown about a half mile from the parade's end.

Inasmuch as it was the Legacy's car, our driver was incredibly embarrassed; but we said, no problem and were prepared to walk the rest of the way, until the Golf Cart came to the rescue for Granddaughter and I, while others stepped up to walk with the signage that had been on the car.

Other than that little snag, the parade, the various news interviews, people from cosmetic brands that had partnered with Twin 1's organization, various board members coming up to say wonderful things about Twin 1 was a lot, and all this was before we even got to the moment with Channel 7, by which time I was a bit of a mess … said I couldn’t speak, that Twin 1’s passing a month ago was still too raw.

For the record, Twin 1 actually passed away in January but, with all the hoopla causing it to be fresh in my mind, it was beginning to feel like it was yesterday.

So, anyway, the parade itself was the largest/longest-running parade I’ve ever seen, overwhelming actually.

So overwhelming that, even though I was given a VIP Pass to Pride Village, I passed, instead chose to be Golf Carted back to the area of the hotel, while the others soldiered on to the Pride Village event.

Being in the actual parade did not allow for an opportunity to capture much of the miles and miles and miles of what there was to see; but I did manage to capture Jesus.

And this lively group.

Upon arriving in Hollywood, I made a point of seeking out the asshole's star.

Surprisingly, this ancient, radiation-feeding megafauna also has his own star; but I bet nobody even thought of damaging, tearing up or spitting on his star.