Juneteenth

Also known as Jubilee Day, Emancipation Day, Freedom Day, Black Independence Day, marking the end of slavery in these United States.

There’s an event going on at the college, but it’s not a parade or walking event — not a 5K, so I’m not interested in checking it out.

I’ll pay homage to the holiday by breaking out my Black History Month’s tee, wear it to this morning’s workout.

Last year, Google had a cool addictive interactive raised fists marching across the screen confetti drop doodle that had me playing with it off/on all day.

This year’s doodle is a bit of a letdown.

Such a letdown that I went into the Overview for an understanding of the doodle’s meaning.

Illustrated by an Oakland-based guest artist who said that, when making the doodle, he thought about what Freedom Day meant to him — play and fun and leisure, the opposite of oppression. "That’s what I want to showcase in this piece – the descendants of enslaved people celebrating and having fun".

Okay, but it’s still a bit of a letdown for this descendant.

Say It With Your Chest

Trainer accused me of trying to get him cancelled — always coming in with edgy messages on my chest, like the anti-No. 45 shirt, a Straight Outta Compton shirt, and now Blackity Black.

Wait until he sees the "Drag Is Not a Crime" tee, I plan to make and wear at Long Beach Pride — that is if I decide I have the energy to attend the 2-day festival and parade.

Trainer himself was kinda sorta paying homage to Juneteenth with a tat commemorating the birth of his daughter, which date happens to coincide with the now federal holiday.

Google went all out with raised fists marching across the home screen and confetti drops, which led to the most celebrating I did today, which was to entertain myself by clicking on the flag icon, watch the confetti drop over and over and over.

Doesn’t take much to captivate me.

Other than that, it’s just another Monday as I contemplate if I really need to get the car serviced on Thursday.

According to the manual, regular service should be every 10,000 miles BUT inasmuch as I’m driving just a little over 2,000 miles per year, I’m guessing it’s best to get service based on an annual basis regardless of miles.

Sitting in the dealer’s waiting room is a pain no matter how I look at it, but at least it will give me down time to get back to the Walter Mosley’s book I’ve not yet had time to finish, exciting a read though it is.

If the wait is long, I might finish Every Man’s a King and start on my next read — The In-Between (unforgettable encounters during life’s final moments by Hadley Viahos, RN).

Three Day Weekend?

Happy Father’s Day to all you dads out there AND dads/moms who did double duty — raised children without partners.

This is a three-day weekend for management, because Monday is a federal Holiday — Juneteenth. However, for moi, tomorrow will be business as usual because Monday is a regular workout day.

There is a celebration tomorrow at the University but I’ve not the energy to workout then attend the festival. Besides, it doesn’t look very interesting.

Even though the list of activities includes Food (I can't eat), Fun, Kid Zone, they completely lost me at Seminars and Gospel Hour.

There are festivities within driving distance, but again, no energy.

I’ve been experiencing an energy drain since Friday — a sign there’s a disturbance in the family force, most assuredly Twin 2, which is where the drains have been coming from for quite some time.

Nothing to be done but hope for the best for her — Divine right action and ride the waves.

Other than that, not much going on around here except crafting.

Insofar as residents, the only one I’ve run into the few times I've gone out to toss trash or pick up mail, was Head Maintenance Guy returning from an outing with his wife on Saturday.

He actually smiled and said "Hello, Shirley", which was surprising because it was the first time he ever said my name.

I got the distinct impression he is totally unaware of the "real plumber" comment.

He’s not clever enough to fake it — come across as agreeable while fuming inside, so I can only assume he’s completely clueless as to how I and other residents feel about his skill level.

It must be nice to be clueless.

There have been times when I’ve envied those who travel through life at a surface level, people that don’t feel, sense, know, empath; people that go through life all friggin la de friggin da like, just totally clueless.

So, anyway, HMG is the only one I saw in person, but I did see Red Light playing poor me on facebook again.

You may remember, back in March, when she had that passive aggressive meltdown — posted a host of poor me, people are so mean cryptic messages.

Well, on Saturday, she posted a poor me, I’m so bored plea.

She has everyone’s telephone number, could have easily called those in her posse, asked if they wanted to get together, but nooooo. She wanted the world to witness her pity plea.

I'd be bored too if I was as spoiled as she, didn't do anything but sit on my behind and issue orders … or try to, like "send me the photos".

For some reason, she doesn't have to lift a finger for anything, not even write a check because the County pays her rent. Her daughter is like her indentured servant — here every day, cooking, cleaning, doing Red Light’s laundry, helping her set up for bingo.

We have residents on walkers and wheelchairs who manage to do their own laundry. The resident with the problem legs — the one who propells herself from here to there by leaning left then right, does her own laundry and here Red Light is being waited on like a queen.

Red Light seems to get around extremely well when she's out gathering intel (gossiping) and running the bingo games — both of which I appreciate, but I'm just saying.

No idea if she ever got out to "do something", but I didn’t see any responses to her plea.

So, anyway, even though tomorrow is just another Monday for me, it being Black Independence Day is an opportunity to wear that Blackity Black Black shirt.