Too Much Week

Too much week Not enough weekend, was on my mind as I awaked this Monday morning.

Probably didn't help that, instead of sleeping, I've been up late nights watching "The Idea of You", over and over, five times already, and I'm not even a romantic comedy type person.

In fact, the only other rom I've ever watched without rolling my eyes, throwing up in my mouth, is the 2006 The Boathouse, with Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock.

In the interim, another Mother’s Day has come and gone — my 57th, and it was awright.

I received the obligatory texts from the usual suspects.

Last Mother’s Day it was Twin 2 who praised me with what a great mom and positive influence I’ve been in her life. This year it was Twin 1 saying, "You have been my greatest teacher on earth".

Sad it is that what seeds I’d planted couldn’t break through her previously hard exterior before she destroyed her relationship with her children, but at least the seeds did eventually sprout and begin to grow.

Better late than never.

Speaking of children, this coming weekend is my trip to Long Beach for Pride and the grandson’s 2nd birthday.

I had no intentions to add yet another t-shirt to my wardrobe for this coming weekend, but the internet kept tempting me with this grandma tee.

Nice, but problem was …… I’m not just a grandma, but a great grandma, so I passed.

Then I thought to contact the seller, ask if she could add "great", and voilà ……

The great grandson’s gift arrived during the week.

He needs another toy like I need another t-shirt so, learning he’s no longer interested in dinosaurs but farm animals, I'm gifting him his first bank account.

Inside all weekend, working on that never ending needlepoint project while catching up on recorded TV programs,watching that rom-com, I didn’t see anyone to find out how Friday’s Mother’s Day Brunch went until I ventured outside yesterday afternoon to take out the trash and ran into the neighbor around the corner who hates Biden, loves No. 45 "because he’s not a politician".

No accounting for taste.

So, anyway, she said she enjoyed the brunch, that around 30 residents attended, but the energy in the room was a drag because of residents complaining …… complained about so many men attending — and not because they qualified as both father and mother to their children. “They came for the food”, she said.

Then there was dissatisfaction with the food being tiny foods — little sandwiches, cheese and deli meat platter, bagels, etc. In other words, brunch food.

I guess they were expecting brunch to be a full meal or a repeat of the big juicy crucifixion burgers, like that served at Easter.

Stopping by the mailbox before heading back to my unit, I observed a pool party going on — I counted about 7 adults, 6 children, didn’t recognize anyone until I saw Head Maintenance Guy enter the pool area to join them and realized it was his wife, daughter, two sons. The others must have been miscellaneous family members.

Since residents seem to be in a complaining mood, I’m wondering who will take offense to HMG hosting, what looked to be, a family Mother’s Day pool party, call corporate to complain.

Hope he doesn’t think it was me calling corporate, because I found it odd that as soon as I arrived to pick up mail, HMG ordered everyone out of the pool and inside. Sort of like the man, woman and little black puppy moving out of TinTin’s unit the afternoon of the same day I’d petted the black puppy, learned of the passing of the white one.

If I’m generating some kind of energy that makes people up and leave when I appear, perhaps I should show up at No. 45’s trial, cause him to "leave".

There was an interesting conversation on Facebook a few days ago when someone posted "For the love of God, please make him just go away" and there was the comment "Could we dress him up in a dog suit and send him into the woods with Kristi Noem?"

Back In The Saddle

More appropriately, it's back to the Pain Cave this morning, after a four-day vacation from working out, rather than the normal two day weekend off.

The car did get its annual service yesterday. Also taken care of was a critical recall, I knew nothing about.

I don’t recall receiving a recall notice or, if I did, it would be just like me to not realize what it was and shred as junk mail.

At any rate, that’s another appointment off my to-do list. Only thing remaining to get off my list, my mind, my back, is the Optometrist — scheduled for next week.

I spent the 3-1/2 hours at the dealership playing Pokémon GO, meditating, napping, reading.

Caught a new Pokémon, called Falinks, which netted me two thousand points.

I also engaged in two battles — lost both.

Not sure I’ll be playing Pokémon GO for very much longer. A newly implemented change is rolling out that’s making me less and less likely to continue. That change being, in order to perform some of the functions in the game, the user has to give permission to link to the contacts in our phone.

Seems shady to me, so I’m not doing that.

There’s always Candy Crush to play.

The only time I have to read is during downtime — while waiting for the dentist, the dermatologist, the car to be serviced. Thus, I’ve not made much progress on that hilarious read Everyone in this Room Will Someday be Dead.

The heroin, with all her issues, cracks me up. Like what I was reading yesterday .... she walked into the bathroom, mistook her own reflection for an intruder, shouted "Who are you!", made a fist and, attempting to defend herself, punched the mirror. Broke it of course, cut her hand, headed to the ER — and not for the first time as she’s a bit of a hypochondriac.

Not expecting any downtime at the Optometrist, and with something interesting about to go down in the book, involving the police and a dead former employee, I may have to make time to read.

Arriving back at the complex, I found the Monthly Calendar posted to the door.

It appears the Tyrant did not learn his Movie Night lesson. He’s tying again — on the 24th, showing Eddie and the Cruisers.

Where is he getting these dated movies from?

That movie, having to do with a rock and roll star, who disappeared at the height of his fame, is something like forty years old.

The notice indicates “Space is limited. First 15 to reserve get to watch the movie”.

I don’t think the Tyrant has anything to worry about, as attendees will probably be that same old guy and his wife that were the only ones to show up for A Quiet Place.

Also, there’s a meeting scheduled for the 17th to discuss a Travel Club — “go on exciting quarterly adventures, cruises, casinos, beaches, museums, musicals, etc.”

In a pandemic? With a variant floating around?

Since he can't bore us to death, looks like he’s trying a more direct route to killing us off.

Revenge With a Side of Rocks

While in the Laundry Room on Saturday, talking to a resident I’ve never seen before — even though she tells me she’s lived here for three years, I asked if she’d gone to movie night.

Her response was to laugh — long and hard.

Once she stopped laughing, she said — with a smirk on her face, “No one did …. except my neighbor and his wife”.

From this resident’s obvious enjoyment of the Tyrant’s failure, I’m deducing that his carrying on with movie night, rather than telling the couple the event was cancelled due to lack of interest, has residents laughing behind his back. He’s become a joke.

When people in power lord it over others who, for one reason or another, feel they can’t speak up/fight back, those powerless ones find other less hazardous to themselves ways to exact revenge. Silence and non-participation is one such effective measure.

However, the Tyrant may have found a way to break down some of the wall that’s between himself and residents. The Baker tells me he’s bringing bingo back.

These old people love them some bingo. So, they will undoubtedly put aside their dislike and participate.

Even the Baker, who opted out of everything some time ago, long before the pandemic shut activities down, said she planned to participate.

And get this … not only is the Tyrant bringing bingo back, he’s planning on being the Caller.

I too enjoy bingo, but I’m not desperate enough to lock myself into the community room, with a group of residents when the pandemic is nowhere near over, plus have to look at the Tyrant’s deceitful face, listen to words coming out of his lying liar’s mouth.

Besides … doesn’t he have more important work to do?

I’ve not run into Jan — the painted rock maker, in some time; however, I have seen her latest work in and around my area, which consists of smooth oval rocks with bible verses.

I captured photos of three. 

Matthew 11:26

Joshua 1:9

Proverbs 14:30

You will note there is not the usual polish on my nails in those photos. I'm such a girlie girl that I  actually feel naked when not wearing polish but, in the process of giving my nails a breather, I didn’t want to take a chance on the rocks being taken as souvenirs before I got polish on and could get a photo fully dressed.

I'm impressed at how neatly Jan managed to script on these rocks.

At any rate, I didn’t have to worry about someone removing the rocks before I could polish my nails and take a proper photo, because I confiscated two of the three to add to my collection right after I captured those photos.

I'll have to let Jan know, so she'll know they're in appreciative hands, not tossed.

The two I confiscated go well with my nails — now freshly skittle polished, don’t you think?

Yesterday and Tomorrow

I ran into that fast walking maskless Covid recovered resident again.

Just my luck that, heading for the car yesterday, she turns a corner, walks directly towards me down my walkway. This time her excuse was “I can’t find my bling mask”.

I thought I was talking to myself in my head, when I angrily mumbled, “You don’t have another?”, but quickly realized I’d angrily mumbled that out loud. LOL.

Fortunately, she was far enough behind me by then that she didn’t hear my utterance because, for sure, I don’t want to get into an argument with a maskless resident who’s recently recovered from Covid. Especially after reading that comment, to the last post, from Linda in Kansas that this neighbor is “not 100%. AND could still spread to others”.

I also ran into Church Lady, asked if she’d attended Movie Night.

She looked confused, as though she didn’t know about Movie Night, but the woman with her said she didn’t think anyone went because she herself had warned residents that if they saw A Quiet Place, they would be too frightened to walk back to their units in the dark because the movie was scary.

Sounds like she went out of her way to sabotage the event.

She needn’t have bothered.

The Tyrant being so NOT well liked, I don’t think anyone wants anything to do with his feeble attempt at providing entertainment to us seniors. No sabotage required. The Tyrant has sabotaged himself.

Hopefully he’ll get the message, give up and not try Movie Night a third time.

At any rate, when this resident said she’d told people the movie was scary, at the mention of “scary”, Church Lady chimed in and said, “Oh no! I don’t do that”. LOL.

So Church Lady, with her list of no "nasty" sex scenes, no bad words, no blood and now, no scary, is very limited in movie viewing.

Back on a regular every six months schedule, it’s off to the dentist I go tomorrow.

The handsome Dr. McDreamy was not in last time. I got stuck with a DDS I’ve never seen before, who looked to be about 15 years old, prompting me to give him the blog name of Doogie (after that TV kid doctor, Doogie Howser MD).

Doogie made a bad first impression.

I saw ego and overconfidence when he said he’d found an area up front, lower teeth, that appeared to be spacing. That it looked like it once had a filling, the filling fell out and that it was an easy fix. “We wouldn’t even have to numb the area”.

Thing is, I’d never had a filling in that area which, if Doogie had first looked at my chart he would have known. So, rather than walking in there acting/talking like a big man in an effort to impress, he left me feeling not only NOT impressed but distrustful .... that he was trying to pad the bill.

I made up my mind weeks ago that, if McDreamy is again not available (in the process of scaling back, semi retiring) and I get stuck with Doogie, I’m going to be looking for another dentist. Preferably, a female.

In fact, when the hygienist goes to set up my next appointment, I’m going to ask if there is a female DDS at one of their other locations and go from there.

If asked why, I’m going to be honest and say I’m just not feeling Doogie.

Friday the 13th

Fun fact … I got married on a Friday the 13th.

I did not intend to get married that day, didn’t intend on getting married AT ALL, even though the cop I was dating, who later became father of my girls, and I had been together for a while.

How it happened was … he decided at the last minute for us to fly to Vegas to see the Sammy Davis Jr. show and, once in Vegas couldn’t get tickets, the show was sold out.

On a lark, he suggested we get married and, caught up in the moment, I foolishly said okay.

Some guys make great boyfriends, but you wouldn't want to marry them, have to live with them 24/7.

At any rate, we rushed around, bought outfits and did the do, with me thinking well maybe Friday the 13th being a bad luck day, will do the opposite and bring us good luck.

News Flash, it didn’t; but oh well.

Coming back from the Dermatologist on Tuesday, I stopped for gas. While pumping, a guy at an adjacent pump engaged me in conversation, mostly about the fire off in the distance, I was looking at.

He said he had a fire app on his phone and that, when there’d been a really bad fire in that same location three years ago, people living in that area had asked for help on the app. He and some friends had responded to the plea, driven up, helped evacuate some of their animals.

As our conversation ended, he and I drove away, I began thinking … why is it that I normally so easily engage, enjoy listening to the life stories of strangers, but don’t want that security guard to even breathe my way? 

Looking through old photos to email to a woman who found me on Ancestry and is doing root work on the family (more on that later), mystery was solved.

The Ex-Husband

The girls dad was a Handsome devil and, while looking at that old photo, I realized the Security Guard gives me the heebie jeebies because he reminds me of my ex. The resident I refer to in the blog as Handsome Man also reminds me of my ex, which is why he too gets on my nerves at times. Both are tall, dark, good looking, well built, both carry themselves in a dignified manner and give off that arrogant self-assured vibe that so annoys me.

So, there you have it.

Heebie Jeebies mystery solved.

My attitude towards the two is a case of Once Bitten.

Doesn't mean that every guy who reminds me of my ex is an undercover psycho, who lures women in with their good looks and charming dignified demeanor but, if the vibe is felt, doesn't mean they are not.

And while we’re on the subject of devils — this one not tall, not dark, certainly not good looking or carrying himself in a dignified manner, but most assuredly giving off that arrogant self-assured vibe … the Tyrant has sought fit to bestow a movie on the seniors this evening — A Quiet Place is to be shown in the Clubhouse at 2:30, and this time the Tyrant made sure to indicate RSVP.

I’ve not seen A Quiet Place, but I know it’s hours of no talking by characters in the movie because, if you make a sound, it will attract a monster.

I do enjoy a good horror, but that kind of suspense stresses me out.

I’m hoping to run into Church Lady, so I can ask if she’s planning to attend this afternoon. When my buddy Apache was in charge of Movie Night, Church Lady was so over the top appalled at his showing Halle Berry/Billy Bob Thornton’s Monsters Ball to the seniors, because of the "nasty" sex scenes. She disapproves of movies with “bad words”, movies with blood, so I’m curious to see what about A Quiet Place, a movie filled with silence and monsters, will offend her sensitive nature.

Will be interesting if any of the residents respond to the Tyrant’s movie night at all, but not interesting enough for me to go down and check it out.

Movie Night, Part 2

From my perch on the couch, I yesterday saw this big boy being walked down the pathway.

I hope the woman, obviously a new resident, follows the rules and scoops her pooch’s poop, because I'd hate to see his droppings nestled in amongst the painted rocks.

Long-time readers, familiar with management screwups here at the senior complex, probably won’t be much surprised to learn Movie Night never happened, though I observed at least one resident ready and waiting — having plopped down on a bench, overlooking the area, around 7:30 p.m.

After 15 minutes of seeing nothing happening, she left.

Actually, there were two residents ready and waiting.

Behind that tree, in the upstairs unit, is the patio of a resident whose placement gives her a birds eye view of the location the movie was to be shown.

A friendly woman, she has never made the blog, but caused one of the disagreements I had with Handsome Man because of his opining how others should live.

It was that day he came onto me with his, “I’m looking for a good woman” line. Since I wasn’t interested in being that woman, I deflected by pointing out other single women he might consider.

One was Next Door Neighbor, who’d invited him to dinner once or twice (he accepted) and who had indicated to me she was very much interested in him.

Handsome Man doesn’t know I know about the dinners but, when I offered her up, he’d shook his head, actually shuttered — as though shaking off a bad memory, and gave me a unequivocal NO!

I then pointed out the woman with the patio behind the tree was single, to which Handsome Man went off on a tirade about her having a relationship with an old army vet I see out walking his dog most days.

He said the man was married, his wife is an invalid and yada yada yada here he was visiting the upstairs unit, having dinner with that woman.

My position in life is that we are all doing the best we can with the cards we’ve been dealt. Consequently, nothing is right, nothing is wrong, but more it is what it is and so long as you’re not a complete arsehole, hurting and abusing and using others, in a harmful way, it’s not my place to judge.

Coming from that position of essentially live and let live, I foolishly responded to handsome man’s tirade by saying, “Well, if his wife is an invalid …” and before I could complete my sentence, Handsome Man’s voice went up several octaves. He began waiving his hands and went on a tirade starting with, “YOU CAN’T TELL ME THAT WHAT HE’S DOING IS …. yada yada yada”. So, I just shut up, let him have his say, then pretty much told Handsome Man that I wasn’t the kind of “good woman” he was looking for.

As for the woman on the upstairs patio, I don’t know, and neither does Handsome Man. For all we know, they could just be good friends, or it might be there is a relationship, the wife might know and may have given approval because why should the husband suffer needs the wife cannot fulfill.

Which, my saying “may have given approval” reminds me of years ago, when I was on a trip to Las Vegas. While others went to the casino, I was lounging at the pool, in a bathing suit, sunbathing and reading a book.

An old couple joined me at the pool, and we all got into general chitchat.

After a time, the couple left and I went back to my book

Then, the husband returned … alone.

He offered me money to have sex with him, saying his wife had given him approval —that the wife thought I was nice and looked clean.

That was not the first time I’d been propositioned, nor would it be the last (last time was just last week, when I was pumping gas at the corner station, but that's a tale for another time). Propositioned because why? ...  because a Black woman out walking for exercise or walking to work, in the mind of some guys, is selling it, a Black woman waiting for a bus at the bus stop is selling it, a Black woman sunbathing at the pool is selling it, a Black woman pumping gas is selling it.

I was calm and polite in declining the old guy's offer saying something to the effect, “I work. I have a job”, so he’d know I wasn’t a prostitute, did not need his money.

He upped the dollar amount and became so persistent that I got disgusted and ended up having to leave the pool to get away from him.

So, like I said, Handsome Man has no idea what’s going on between the old vet, his invalid wife, woman on the upstairs patio and therefore is not in a position to judge.

Along about 8:00 p.m., having seen the bench resident long gone, I walked outside to see for myself if Movie Night was happening.

Nothing.

Walking over to the woman on her patio, she said she’d seen no preparations.

Concluding, the event was another of management’s screwups, I headed back to my unit and caught Aquaman on tv.

Update: Running into Head Maintenance Guy this morning, I asked, “What happened to movie night?”

”No one RSVP’d”, said he.

I didn’t know, or see on the Monthly Calendar, that we had to RSVP. Probably no one realized that either, but it’s doubtful enough would have signed up to get it going anyway.

Movie Night

This post-pandemic Father’s Day is looking to be HUGE in this area.

Making the mistake of popping into the market, after this morning’s workout, for a few non-perishables, I found the place crowded. Hot dogs, watermelon and Happy Father’s Day balloons were flying out the door.

I’m thinking backyard cookouts.

I was only picking up perishables, because I don’t dare bring perishables into my unit, possibly incur any more loss that I’m likely to incur with what I already have in the freezer, because we’re living under the threat of rolling blackouts by the utility company. Which, I can’t believe that, in this heat, the utility company is seriously thinking of putting us through such a thing.

Some of us might not live through an extended period of not having A/C, but what do they care.

I myself don’t have to worry about honoring anyone on Father’s Day. The grandsons have a really good dad, someone I admire and respect, so I’m sure they boys will do right by their dad. But my mom and dad separated when I was six months old. Mom moved to California, while my father stayed where he was, out-of-state, with the woman who broke up the marriage.

Mom of course eventually remarried, had children by him — my brothers and sister but, try though I have, I can’t remember anything ever being done on Father’s Day for my stepdad. Not by mom, not by his own children, and definitely not by me because we did not get along.

He resented me because I was not his own, my brothers and sister resented him because he resented me. LOL.

The first, last and only time I ever lay eyes on my dad was in 1977, when he died and mom tricked me into attending his out-of-state funeral.

His oldest daughter — my what ... half-sister? stepsister?, daughter by his then wife, the woman that broke up his relationship with my mother, picked me up at the airport, took me by the funeral home, so I could get a look at my dad in his casket.

Interesting, at long last, to see what he looked like, but felt nothing.

At any rate, I do wish those being feted this weekend a Happy Father’s Day.

Tonight is Movie Night here at the complex. More approximately … Movie Late Afternoon, because the film Get Out is to be set up for viewing at dusk, on the grassy knoll at the edge of my walkway.

I’m interested in seeing how management plans to pull this first-time event off … what apparatus is to be used, i.e., a big tv/a screen?

Then there’s the issue of how many residents, if any, will participate.

I’ve been asking around and it’s not looking promising.

Next Door Neighbor said she’s not going, because she’s seen the movie. Get Out has been on television numerous times.

That’s true, and those who have seen it, on television, will feel it not worth the effort, as she does, to traipse out of their units to see a movie they’ve already seen — the new Wonder Woman or Cruella would have gotten me out of my unit.

While picking up mail today, I ran into Church Lady. She said she’s not going because word on the complex is it’s a horror movie.

That’s true as well, but I told her it was more comic horror than blood and guts horror.

No matter, she’s not going because she was also told there were “bad words” in the movie.

Jesus F Christ!!, thought I.

Some of these old people (Church Lady is just a few months younger than I) are wound up way too tight.

Also, while picking up mail, I ran into Diane — the woman whose quality of life was changed by a car accident that left her with a brain injury and seizures, the resident that put her puppy to sleep because she could not afford the vet bill.

I guess Diane is another one who doesn’t read the Monthly Calendar, because she said she didn’t know about it.

Figuring “dust” to be about 7 o’clock, she doubted she’d come down for the movie.

Another woman walked up on the conversation I was having with Diane — a woman who has never made the blog and whom I don’t care for much because I’ve got good instincts and because she had too much to say when we had Resident/Management meetings, without saying anything worth being heard.

She interrupted our conversation to say how much she disliked the painted rocks.

That interested me, so I asked “Why?”

“We’re not supposed to be doing stuff like this”.

“Jan has permission. They’re not bothering anything, and there’s plenty of other rocks around here”, said I.

“But she’s saying how she feels about people”, said she.

“Do you mean the positive messages she’s writing?”

“Yes. That’s saying how she feels about people”.

I guess she means saying awful things about people like this …

And this ...

The woman said something about the painted rocks "cluttering up the place" and a few other things that were so off the wall that I blurted out what I'd been thinking for years, “You’re awful” and said to Diane, “I can’t deal with this level of negativity” then walked away.

Back in my unit, I began thinking what I should have done was this thing I do to piss off people who are being ridiculous, or behaving in a manner that indicates they're in need of  a curandero.

I raise my hand in a halt manner and say, “I rebuke you demon. I rebuke you in the name of Jesus Christ. Out out, evil spirit. Release that body and let it go”.

It’s so fun to see the reactions.

Generally, it stops people mid-stream. It shocks them, because they don't know if I’ve just put a voodoo curse on them or what.

One woman, when I used it on her misbehaving daughter, whom she was allowing to misbehave, stood straight up, said, “That was rude!”, grabbed her daughter and left the room.

Must have worked some kind of magic, because she later returned, little girl in tow and made the little one apologize to me for her behavior.

I felt the mom should have apologized as well and kinda just brushed the two of them off.

I’m sure to run into this long-time resident again, whom I’m naming Negative Nelly, and if she wants to continue our conversation about the rocks and/or my having said to her face that she was awful, I’m going to rebuke her and hopefully catch it on film.

Pop of Color

Opening up the blinds to sunshine yesterday, my eyes caught a pop of color in the drab landscape. It was in the area of walkway where painted rocks had been pilfered.

Later that morning, heading to the Pain Cave, I stopped to check the brightly colored item out and whatdoyaknow … it’s a brand new rock.

While I was photographing the rock, along comes Handsome Man wanting to know what I was doing.

He didn’t seem much interested in talking about the rocks, saying “Oh yea, I noticed some of those around”. Instead, he turned the conversation around to Apache, asking if I’d been in contact.

I had not.

Said he knew where Apache had moved to, he’d called him and the call did not go well — Apache yelled at him.

I can relate to that, because I myself have often wanted to yell at Handsome Man.

He’s rather pious, narrowminded, judgmental. So opinionated as to how others should live their lives. Thinks he’s smarter than he really is, so I myself try to keep our conversations in safe territory — no religion, politics, current events, even the fact I'd not had the Covid shots, when last he asked, had turned into a bone of contention. 

I guess he approves now that I've been vaccinated.

So, anyway, actually no topic is safe to discuss with Handsome Man. It’s best to just let Handsome Man hold the reigns and listen to him talk.

He probably opined what Apache should and should not have done to avoid being evicted and Apache, not having it, terminated the conversation by yelling.

Handsome Man says he’s tried calling Apache since, but Apache won’t take his calls.

Before our brief conversation was over, I was once again wanting to shake some sense into Handsome Man, but settled for saying, “I’m going to have to stop talking to you”.

This because I asked, “Are you coming to Movie Night next week?”

Seemed a safe enough topic.

Of course it was his usual, “I don’t know anything about it”. 

"It was on the Activity Calendar".

"You know I always toss that in the trash".

That's true. From past incidents, I am well aware he never reads the Calendar, and that's why he didn't know, why he never knows, and then complains later when he’s missed something.

I explained the upcoming Movie Night event to him, asked if he’d seen the movie “Get Out” and, of course, he had not. Had never heard of it.

Handsome Man is such a bore. Guess it's the result of his narrow view of the world and all of us in it, but his well-built aging gracefully body is a joy to see walking around the premises — gives me a pop of color, eye candy, so I tolerate him. LOL.

The conversation ended with me — a bit frustrated he'd yet again not read the Activity Calendar, and me once again acting as his verbal calendar, giving him a look and saying, “I’m going to have to stop talking to you until you start reading those calendars”.

As I turned and continued on to the car, I could hear him chuckling in the background. 

He enjoys it when I'm snippy with him.

Later that afternoon, from my perch on the couch, I observed the little old lady that pilfered the rocks from my quad, walking down the side path.

She stopped, bent over, picked up a rock from that area, stashed it in her bag.

I think I’d better give her a blog name. How about “The Collector”. LOL.

There's not just a new rock in my area, I've walked up on others that appear to be much improved over the ones I initially found. The work is sharp, clear, the new rocks even have a coating to protect from weather damage. We may have a new player on the field. Someone who has done this kind of work before.

Right As Rain

I never could have imagined I’d be on my feet and working out in the Pain Cave this Monday morning. But there I was doing a full body back and bicep routine, 3.2 on the treadmill in-between sets. On little sleep I might add because, after no problem sleeping my life away all of last week, I was so excited about being able to work out again that I tossed, turned, had insomnia last night.

Catching up on what's been happening around the complex, while I was in last week’s self-induced coma … the Monthly Calendar indicates that staff has reopened the office area, clubhouse, game room … but “with restrictions”.

But get this …. Instead of indicating on the calendar what these restrictions are, we’ve been instructed to “call office for more information”.

Won’t be playing that game.

Put the restrictions in print.

I also see there’s to be an activity — “Summer Movies in the Park” management calls it.

On Friday, June 18, on the Grassy Knoll next to my building, the movie “Get Out” is to begin at dusk.

That’s actually a good idea.

Get Out is a really interesting movie. So interesting that I myself have viewed it like a zillion times.

I find it hard to imagine there might be others around here who’ve not seen it but, whether they have or have not, desperate for a community activity, many might bring lawn chairs and show up for the viewing.

Again, though I can’t imagine anyone has not seen Get Out but, just in case you haven’t …… it’s a horror comedy that deals with racism.

Black people are abducted, and what was done to them is sort of like what Psychic Jeanne Dixon described as a Walk in situation  — one consciousness voluntarily walks out of a body, another consciousness walks in. Only, in Get Out, it's not voluntary. Instead, White people — in need of the Black person’s skill or physique,  walks in and takes over the Black body, after the Black person's conscious awareness of himself/herself is forced into a dark place in the background of the body. 

The pitfalls of being Black are not addressed in the movie, but I like to think the joke is on the Whites, seeking Black bodies .... giving up their White Privilege to live life in Black skin.

At any rate, it’s a fascinating movie — not horror bloody gore, except for one medical procedure I always turn away from.

I am not interested in hanging with the folks outside, when I can pop the CD into the laptop and watch Get Out any time I want, but I will head down to see the lawn setup.

Are they going to screen it on the exterior of one of the buildings?

Are they going to set up some kind of viewing screen?

Or is it something stupid, like setting up a TV on the lawn — expecting all those present to be able to see and hear?

I also want to head down, for a hot minute, to take roll call — see who, of the old group, are still around. Having not seen, for over a year, the man chasing Not Dead Nancy, or the married couple (married 35 years) who got into a physical fight with each other, I’ve been wondering what's happened to them.

If residents show up, I might also get an idea of whose been moving in, as there has been indication of two such recent move-ins.

None of the movement was in my quad.

Sue’s upstairs, across the quad, unit is still vacant.

Took the guys a long time to get it ready for a new tenant, because of so much work having to be done because of Sue’s smoking inside — plus, Sue had a dog.

No word yet on whether Bourgeois sealed the deal.

Bourgeois is the woman who complained about how unhappy she was while living here, couldn’t wait to get out, so to speak (LOL) but now wants to return — the only holdup being she’d have to pay $2500 to compensate for all the work it took to clear the place of her having smoked inside the unit she occupied before she was so happy to move out that last time.

Bourgeois is the second person I personally know of as having moved out and wanting to come back. The first being Veronica.

Bourgeois can lease a unit if she forks over the dough management wants, but management refused to lease again to Veronica, who then tried to skirt around management by making arrangements to move in with another resident.

I don’t know the specifics of why management didn’t want Veronica back, but Veronica pulled a fast one on those of us who were friends with her.

She knocked on my door one night asking to borrow $40. I gave it to her no hesitation, no question.

Two or three days later, when I ran into her, she couldn’t look me in the eyes and instead of greeting me said, “I’m gonna get your money back to you”.

$40 wasn’t going to break me and, to tell you the truth, I’d thought nothing more of it until she made that statement which, to me, was an indication the $40 was a gift, not a loan … and I was okay with that. I'd just never "loan" her money again.

After that, I didn’t see Veronica around at all. So I asked The Seer, “Is Veronica okay … I haven’t seen her around?” and was informed Veronica had moved …. to Texas or New Orleans, some place out-of-state I can’t recall.

I had to laugh at being taken-in so smoothly. I laughed even louder when I learned I wasn’t the only one she’d “borrowed” $40 from that night.

Would have been interesting to see how Veronica planned to face us all had she come back, but moving in with another resident never happened. In fact, the resident, who was going to allow Veronica to move in, was herself on management’s short list — for maintaining her unit in deplorable condition (she was a hoarder), and got herself evicted shortly after.

Play it straight, do the right thing — don’t smoke in a no smoking complex, don’t con your friends, and Karma might not have to teach you a lesson.

Oh, and btw. Just in case you missed it.

Nothing

Other than my normal schedule of workouts, needlepoint, trying to catch up on recorded television programs, I’ve got nothing other than sitting on my couch perch watching maintenance guys getting Sue’s (whose lifestyle took such a toll that she became unable to care for self and was moved in with family) across the quad, upstairs corner unit ready for the next tenant, and landscapers uprooting ALL the plants on the property.

I also squeezed in time to watch a movie I’d been anxious to see ever since I’d first heard about it months ago.

Of course, I don’t go to the movies and though I have a smart tv and can load a streaming service, the mechanics of switching from TV to all the other options the smart tv offers is too confusing for me, so I patiently waited for the DVD to release.

It’s up for Best Picture and Best Screenplay.

I don’t know about either, but I enjoyed it and particularly enjoyed that, instead of the usual spoiling of a movie for myself by knowing what was going to happen before it happened, this one was full of unanticipated surprises.

The main character’s skittle nails motivated me to go back to what was last year’s style.

Promising Young Woman

Retired Senior Citizen

Sue’s family must have left a terrible mess inside, when they moved Sue out, because the guys brought in a dumpster and spent two days loading it with miscellaneous junk.

Good luck getting a cleaning deposit back.

As for the landscapers, here we are, same week as Earth Day, and first they pruned the trees to death, then came back and stripped the entire complex of, what looked to me, to be healthy striving plants, leaving a few hedges and patches of dirt.

I’m assuming management has a plan, a before and after. Can’t wait to see the after, because the before was already lush and pleasant looking.

Oh, and by the way, the news reported at least six people fatally shot by officers (with varying circumstances) in the 24 hours after jurors reached a verdict in the murder case against Chauvin.

Just sayin’