Trouble Trouble Boil and Bubble

It’s a tough job, so thank you for doing it
and ousting that idiot No. 45

I actually didn’t realize today was a holiday until, heading for the mail center after this morning’s workout, I saw a group of residents sitting on the bench by the Laundry Room.

They usually only sit there when waiting for the mail carrier to finish sorting, so I asked, "Is the mail carrier not yet finished?"

"No mail today, it’s a holiday".

That explains why I’d seen Head Maintenance Guy, whom I thought was slacking off, heading out and off with his two boys and daughter, thought I.

Though I’ve seen quite a few residents out and about today and during the week, enjoying the weather, I’ve not seen the Baker — which makes me think something might be seriously wrong with her ailing husband.

If I don’t see her at this coming’s Bingo Friday, I’ll know it’s bad.

Trouble trouble boil and bubble.

Thankfully, I’ve not seen hide nor hair of my little rug rat Knock Knock.

I did, however, have an interesting interaction with a child about little Knock Knock’s age at the market on Friday.

I’d parked the car, began walking across the parking lot, spied a man putting groceries into the trunk of the car with two little boys that looked like twins standing in the cart.

One of the little boys was staring at me, but I didn’t think anything of it until, as I got closer to pass by, the kid yelled out "HI GRANDMA!"

Not sure I’d heard correctly, I paused when I got to where they were and asked, "Did you just call me Grandma?"

"YESSS!" was his overly enthusiastic response, causing me to think he’d had too much sugar.

"Do I remind you of your grandma?"

"YESSS!"

"Do I look like your grandma?"

"YESSS!"

"Do you like your grandma?"

"YESSS!"

"Well then it’s cool".

His dad was cracking up during the interaction, and dad wished me a good day as I continued on into the market.

Then, while the cashier was scanning my groceries, I saw a baby staring at me from his carrier in the isle across.

Seeing him staring, I smiled and gave him a little wave which made him smile.

His little sister, seeing him staring, took his head and turned it towards her.

The baby wasn’t having it. He turned back and kept smiling at me.

Finally, his mom and grandma began looking to see what he was smiling at, whereupon I finished paying for my groceries and said to the baby, "Stop flirting with me".

Mom and Grandma began laughing and also wished me a good rest of the day as we all began to walk out.

I left the market feeling like the frigging Pied Piper of children in the Inland Empire area.

What is it that my little rug rat Knock Knock, the kid that called me grandma and the baby see?

Are they all souls from past lives recognizing my soul in its current skin suit?

The week was a heavy one for me due to worrying about a family member who is thisclose to being jobless then ultimately homeless.

I’ve occasionally helped this family member out financially, but it’s reached a point where I can no longer do so without hurting myself and thus will have to accept it’s not going to end well for her.

Trouble trouble boil and bubble.

I’ve seen this family member travelling down the road she’s on for many years and can see why — though she’s a nice person, caring, thoughtful, in the end she causes so many to not like her, not want to even be around her but I have never been able to tell her what I see because she gets defensive, shuts down, goes into denial mode.

Not just with me, but with anyone who tries to get through to her.

It was the Chinese Philosopher Lao Tzu who said, "A tree that cannot bend will crack in the wind". When thinking of this relative, of what I've seen for as long as I can remember, the root cause of her issues is that she's a person who is rigid, controlling, cannot bend and those that don’t bend will break.

I think she’s at that point now and I can’t keep carrying the burden of worrying or bailing her out of financial difficulties. I’m going to have to say no next time and let whatever befalls her befall her.

Her latest situation, and her history of causing people to not like her, got me to thinking of my own history with people.

I've always had decent relationships with neighbors, coworkers, ex boyfriends — some of whom might have been mad at me because of this, that, the other, but can't think of anyone who wouldn't smile and give me an unwanted hug should our paths cross.

I’ve had people in and out of the workforce who hated me because of the color of my skin, but even these racist types couldn't help but like me once they got to know me, even while continuing to try to destroy me.

What I've never had is anyone to hate me for the person I am, people to not want to work with me, even be around me.

So, the fact this is a frequent reality for this family member, one would think she would by now have done some self-reflection and adjusted accordingly, but nooooo, she just gets angrier, more stubborn, more self-destructive.

Oh well. Knowing I was going to have to let this one go, and that it’s going to be bad — trouble trouble boil and bubble, sent me out for a nice long walk to clear my head on Saturday.

I walked the college campus, then tackled an incline, known as Devil Canyon Road — an incline that far exceeds the elevation of anything I’ll be facing at the 5K I’m looking forward to in October.

It was tough going, even with the trekking poles. I almost turned back just feet from the top but persevered.

At any rate, training on this incline a couple times a month — weather permitting, and I'll be able to ace the October 5k, no problem, no injuries.

BTW, the crazy glued trekking poles held up, but I carried an extra tube of glue just in case.

Funny You Should Ask

Finally had a good night’s sleep. Slept all the way through and woke up with a song in my head that I can’t shake — Ding Dong the Witch is Dead.

Right away I’m thinking of Henrietta, Jane, Joyce — the three witches that made my working life so traumatic years ago.

None of the three are popping up on Legacy’s obituary site. Too soon maybe?

The song is still in my head, so hopefully which witch is which will be made known to me somehow some way.

Of course, there’s the Black Witch — the resident who tried to bully me, called me the B word at bingo.

She’s done no damage, is not important enough for a song to be in my head but, if by chance the song is about her, I’ll know soon enough.

There was a ping on the phone at 8:21 this morning. It was a message from the dental office — "Thank you for being a patient. We would really like your feedback. Rate your experience with us here and we’ll enter your name into our raffle to win a $200 gift card".

How’s that for timing.

The plan was to hold off firing the dental office until AFTER I’d found a new dentist, hopefully before January 19 — the date scheduled for me to return for the necessary crown and additional unnecessary work they’d planned to scam me for.

Cats out of the bag now because my reply was — "Funny you should ask, as I’m currently in the process of seeking dental care elsewhere".

As of today, I have two options, both with great reviews and both who appear to focus on quality care, rather than quantity.

In retrospect, I think that’s why so many dentists are scammers. With these dental conglomerates that have offices in many locations, there is the need for each dentist in each location to earn his spot, bring in as much money as he can. Whereas, with the two I’m looking at, they’ve been in business for many years, same location with focus not on becoming bigger and better, expanding, but maintaining patient loyalty.

No. 1 is an all-female dental office. No. 2 is a "holistic" dentist.

Needing a crown ASAP, the all-female office is problematic as they are on holiday until Monday, January 2nd.

The holistic dentists is reading as expensive, but can schedule me for a consultation Tuesday, January 3rd.

The deciding factor will be if I hear from the all-female dental office on Monday and how soon they can schedule me for consultation and the crown work as compared to how soon the holistic dentist can do the work.

No one won the Mega Million last night, so here we go again with my feeling compelled to take my chances until someone finally wins.

I had invested $10 in last night’s drawing, won $4 back. The pot is up to $640 milliion now, so I’ll be purchasing more tickets after this morning’s workout.

Can’t win if you don’t play.

The Most Interesting Man

My stomach acting up all day every day for over a month, I narrowed the cause down to my morning cup of coffee — too much acid, and determined this morning, to give up coffee.

That resolve ended by 10:47, when I got the coffee pot going and had my first cup of the devil’s brew at 11:01.

I’m sick and tired of feeling queasy, but breaking my caffeine addition is something I’m going to have to ease into — try try try until something clicks.

I also find myself snacking a little too much, but the source of that is coming from stress associated with something happening that has me torn between being relieved, when I should be sad. Though, I do think I’m a little bit of both.

That something is that the most interesting man I’ve ever been in a serious relationship with has passed away.

Why in the world would I feel somewhat relieved that someone has passed away you ask.

Well, that’s because, a few weeks ago, I’d mentioned to Trainer that I was not sleeping well — waking up at 1:00, 3:00, 4:00, because I had a feeling there was going to be a death and that "I’m pretty sure it’s not me".

Thinking I’d not have the feeling unless it was someone close, i.e., someone in the family, I’d begun to think it might be grandson-in-law’s elderly dad.

Then, on Sunday, I had the thought to check the Facebook page of my old boyfriend, the actor/writer and found a Remembering/Memorialized Account.

Contacting his daughter, I learned he’d passed away suddenly, unexpectedly, and his family was reeling because they were all present and watched when he "Had a really bad fall … Fell backwards from coming up the steps from the basement to the kitchen".

What followed was a fractured skull, internal brain bleeding, spine fracture, not recognizing anyone, helicoptered to a hospital where family was ultimately told he would no longer be able to communicate ever again, was going to be on oxygen the rest of his life, along with a feeding tube.

The family had struggled with the implications, whether Jim would want to live like that, and ultimately Jim’s life ended with his "passing away peacefully through comfort measures".

I didn’t ask what "comfort measures" meant, because I was pretty well stunned at how Jim’s life, at 62 years of age, had ended with a fall.

I’ve blogged previously about how a fall is the No. 1 concern for us seniors, after having seen first-hand how it has changed the active life of so many in the complex to inactive, even death.

I feel enormously guilty that I’m relieved this passing wasn’t family but, at the same time, sad it was Jim.

Not only was Jim the most interesting man I've ever been in a serious relationship with, he was also the smartest.

Late in life, he earned several degrees … in history, theology and surprisingly, criminal justice, and was thisclose to obtaining his PhD when he passed away.

Why a degree in criminal justice was a surprise will become clear as you read on.

Jim was divorced when we met, with an annoying ex-wife in Los Angeles, who’d given him a daughter and an ex-girlfriend in Mexico, who’d given him a son.

After our relationship ended on a positive note, Jim relocated to Mexico, married that baby’s mama, added an additional son and daughter to the mix, became owner operator of a hot dog stand, ran in 2012 as Democratic candidate to the U.S. House representing the 11th Congressional District of Texas, taught English to Chinese students via an online setup, became an Untenured Professor teaching college courses. Just super smart.

His path through life began with a stint in the Army, after which he became a DEA Agent.

From there, as a naughty Agent, he spiraled down to a stint in federal prison.

Back in ’91, his cellmate was the former police officer labeled "The most corrupt cop in L.A."

A lot has happened in the cop world since then so, though the infamous cellmate is still in prison, I’m sure others have taken the title.

At any rate, after Jim was released from prison, he made his living as a part-time actor, author.

During an annual visit to my Shaman, he saw a "James" and a "Robert" in my future. "One of them in law or show business — film production, something like that, maybe something a little bit less but has been making money at it … you will meet in a place where ideas are being discussed — he’s an educated man — going to meet him not far from a school".

Of course, I poo poo’d it at the time because, just like now, I wasn’t interested. But low and behold, a few weeks later at the Bicycle Fair in the Long Beach Promenade Amphitheater, I met Jim.

I didn’t connect the dots until months later when I realized Jim’s Christian name was "James", that I’d met him at the Amphitheater (a place where ideas were discussed by scholars and philosophers) which amphitheater just happened to be located half a block away from a big charter school.

At that time Jim — good looking, Irish, educated was, as I said, a former Agent of the Bureau of Alcohol Tobacco Firearms (Law) currently making his living as a bit actor (show business) while writing and promoting himself as a production company (film production).

The Shaman got it on all points.

It was an intense relationship, in a good way, but when it got too serious and a decision had to be made, I decided Jim had too much baggage, and I did the smart thing and chose sound logic — staying single, living alone over companionship. We parted as good friends and kept in contact for years.

I'm really sorry to see Jim go out the way he did. He had so many plans for his future, and was working hard on getting that PhD, and getting back in shape — diet, exercise, got up to weeklong treks along the Appalachian Trail.

I've lived a life, so there's one other serious relationship out there, which was before Jim.

That one did not end well, but only because the guy was immature and a lawyer — and you know how lawyers like to win; plus, he's an Arab — and you know they have an attitude as to how women are to be subservient. Being a lawyer and an Arab, the idea of a woman breaking up with him was unforgivable.

We did not end on friendly terms, and though our paths have crossed a time or two, he remains bitter all these many years later.

Body Language

I woke up this morning to double yolks in my eggs which, according to mysticism, is a symbol of good luck.

Thing is, research tells me chances of coming across an egg with double yolks are around 1 in 1000, so imagine my surprise, because I’d experienced that same luck three weeks ago, when I cracked an egg for breakfast and out came double yolks.

Twin 2 told me to buy lottery tickets but, comfortable inside, I didn’t venture out to do so.

Given a second chance at luck this morning, this time I did pop into the liquor store, after working out, bought two $5 scratch-offs.

Then, I drove across the street, but not to the market.

Your girl has been doing a good job of staying away from the corner market where resides the security guard, who she’s sure is coming onto her, gives her the heebie jeebies.

The market in the other direction has all I need, except for Ben and Jerry’s Chunky Monkey ice cream. For some reason, they just don’t carry many of the B&J flavors altogether, but not a problem, thought I, because the corner drugstore, also with a limited selection, does carry Chunky Monkey.

So, completely out of Chunky Monkey, the only ice cream my sensitive stomach will tolerate, I popped into the drugstore only to find not only no Chunky Monkey, but no refrigerated ice creams period, because the section was out-of-order due to a refrigeration problem.

What to do?

This was supposed to be my double yolk lucky day, but the Universe appeared to be working against me OR leading me.

Did my desire for Chunky Monkey outweigh my desire not to be looked at by that security guard?

Why yes, yes it did.

Driving to that side of the shopping center, I saw him standing outside, far enough away from the entrance that I surmised I could slip in without crossing his path.

Getting out of the car, walking towards the doors of the market, I saw he’d spotted me and, I kid you not, he left his outside post and quickly walked inside.

When I walked inside, he was leaning against a structure, trying to look all cool, like he’d not just rushed in to strike that pose, LOL.

I had my phone in my hand and pretended to be intently focused on something on the phone so I’d not have to look up at him or engage.

I hear him give me a cheery, “Good afternoon”, but pretended not to hear because I was engaged in what was supposedly on my phone as I rush by him.

THEN, to get my attention, he says, “That mask is blinging”.

Oh for Christ sake! It’s the same mask he’s seen every time I've popped in after a workout, but this time he just had to comment on it.

Can he not read body language?

My body was clearly saying, “Leave me alone. Don’t look at me. Don’t talk to me.”

I still didn’t look up from my phone. Instead, I signaled a thumbs up and kept on steppin.

The plan for getting out of the market was, after picking up the ice cream, to once again pretend to be engaged in something on my phone, but he wasn’t at the door, nor was he outside. He’d thankfully disappeared.

So, seat belting myself in the car, I look up and see his big gray truck parked under a tree. I know it’s his, because that last time, when I saw him on the lot and, when the coast was clear, did my grocery shopping, I’d seen him get in that truck.

So, anyway, seeing his truck in my line of vision, the windows of which are darkly tinted, it suddenly crossed my mind he’d disappeared from the market because he was in the truck …. watching. But just as quickly as the thought crossed my mind, I dismissed it thinking it a ridiculous thought, that I was just being paranoid.

Maybe ridiculous, maybe not. Certainly no more ridiculous than his rushing back inside the market to pose his body to say, "Look how cool and alluring I am". LOL.

Well, maybe I am being a bit paranoid because, when road construction prevented me from turning into the complex driveway, I had to pass the complex, make a quick turn into and around in a side roadway, then wait until I could get across traffic, drive back to the complex driveway.

I didn’t think anything of it when a big gray truck made a quick turn into and around that same roadway, stopping just behind me. I didn’t think anything of it until, after I crossed traffic, got to and turned into the complex driveway, I saw that same big gray truck had turn when I turned, drove same direction as I, but passed the complex driving in the direction of the market.

Did he follow me from the market?, thought I.

No, it wasn’t he. I checked the footage on the Drive App, saw it was a different big gray truck.

So maybe just a tad paranoid.

At any rate, at least I’ve got the freezer stocked with four pints of Chunky Monkey — all the market had in stock. That should take me into the next two weeks, long enough for the drugstore to sort out its refrigeration situation.

If you’re wondering how lucky those lottery tickets were …. they weren’t, but all is not lost as both have been entered into the lottery’s Second Chance drawing.

To top it off, though the Tyrant got rid of all the cats, new cats are finding their way here, just as I figured. Heading back to my unit, I came across one, a Black Cat, as it crossed my path.

Some lucky day this turned out NOT to be.

I don’t want to see any more supposedly lucky eggs.

Maybe I tossed the luck away, when I scraped the egg out of the pan, tossed it in the trash, because I saw what looked like blood and couldn’t eat, what I felt to be, an almost baby chick.

The Devil Made Me Do It

Sick of all the rhetoric not going anywhere, because politicians are too afraid of their constituents and fellow party members to do their jobs, I took a deep dive into the occult and tried my hands at making a voodoo doll.

Locating an image on the internet that I could work with, after ironing that image onto muslin, I pulled out my trusty sewing machine and came up with this.

Meanwhile, as expected, those homegrown terrorists are being severely punished with slaps on the wrists.

The Capitol rioter pictured walking away with Pelosi's lectern has been released on bond.

The “horned” Capitol rioter has demanded, and a judge has so ordered that, instead of jail food, he be supplied with organic.

I guess next they'll be punishing insurrectionists with cupcakes and Starbucks coffee.

Business as Usual

It’s been business as usual here on the senior complex and in my part of the world.

Sunday was as I’d expected, no call or text from Twin 1. However, she did somewhat acknowledge Mother’s Day by proxy in a text I received from granddaughter.

I had to laugh.

It’s better than nothing.

The seniors celebrated Mother’s Day with a potluck yesterday, rescheduled from last week.

I did see, when last I walked through the Community Room, that 20 or so residents signed up for the event, so there was interest. Which means the rescheduling was most definitely budget related ─ that the new Community Manager had failed to provide Activity Director with needed funds; but I can’t tell you how the event went because I didn’t make it back from Trainer in time to do a walk through and take photos for the residents’ facebook page.

Apache’s birthday was Monday, so I caught up with and gave him the gift box from No. 45’s store.

His eyes lit up, but he doesn’t want to open the box until Saturday, at the BBQ celebration of his birthday.

I wasn’t planning to go to that. It’s just no fun going to food events when I can’t eat any of the goodies, but I guess I’ll have to go to take photos of Apache's face, when he opens the box, for his private facebook page and so I can see if the underside of the gold bar bank says “Made in China”.

Elsewhere on the complex, word is Nosey ─ hospitalized/recovering from a fall in her unit resulting in a broken hip, was doing well and would be returning some time next week.

Picking up mail on Monday, I ran into one of our Community Room regulars who informed me that she was just home from the hospital where she’d had surgery on her knee.

News to me. I’d not heard, but then I’ve not been around much lately to hear what’s going on.

At any rate, she tells me she’s had her knee operated on THEN without any prompting on my part, she showed me the surgical scars.

OMG!!!!

WHY DO OLD PEOPLE DO THAT?!!!! .. MAKE SUCH A BIG PRODUCTION … BRAG EVEN.

It was bad enough she was wearing shorts to openly display the scars, but inasmuch as I did not appear all that interested in details, she just had to push it by sticking out her leg saying “See”.

Hopefully she read my facial expression (like I was about to toss my cookies) and will be more discerning about the show and tell stuff.

With the dentist off my to-do list, a measles booster off the list, this morning it was a drive to the eye clinic for a long overdue exam and new glasses.

That’s the vision center at my medical provider’s office, not the private vision center I went to after the provider’s office royally screwed up last time I went through the process.

I went back and forth in my mind as to whether I should go to the provider this time, in the hopes they’d do a better job, because everything is covered except purchase of the glasses, rather than to the private vision center that did such great work but cost and arm and two legs.

I decided medical provider’s office.

But upon arriving in a timely manner for this morning’s appointment, I was told my appointment is not until next week. Of course they're right. I'd misplaced the appointment card, but had written the date and time in my organizer, yet and still showed up a week early.

I took this not as yet another senior moment, but a sign from the universe to not waste my time. As soon as I arrived back at the complex, I cancelled next week’s appointment with the provider and scheduled end-of-month with the private center.

Since I was at the medical center, I stopped into the Nurse’s Station for a Blood Pressure Check. It was o-k-a-y and, as I was leaving, the nurse was still looking at whatever it is they see on the computer screen and suddenly blurted out “OH MY GOD!!”.

I stopped cold in my tracks, frightened, thinking she’d discovered a problem.

“You look nowhere near this age”, said she.

Relieved and laughing, I said, “You scared me and thank you”.

Not thank you for scaring me, but thank you because it’s always good to hear I don’t look it.

There's no magic formula to my not looking my age. It's all the Grace of God, expensive makeup and an aging picture I have hidden away in the attic.

Community Run

Set the alarm for 4 a.m. this Saturday morning, but awoke at 3:01, ready to get myself washed, dressed, fed, and out the door at 5:30 to drive to the 8th Annual Jurupa Valley Community Run, the first 5K I’ve participated in this year, and the first time I've heard of this event.

Not that I haven’t wanted to get back into the swing of things (participate in other 5Ks this year) but because it’s the first one to come to my attention that didn’t involve an overnight hotel stay. Jurupa Valley is a drivable distance from the complex.

Mother’s Day being tomorrow, you’d think this event would be so themed. But no. Instead, the race organizers requested participants dress patriotically ─ “This year we are hosting a Patriotic Run ... join us in wearing Red, White, or Blue on Race Day”.

So, they kinda sorta skipped celebrating moms and went straight to Memorial Day, but okay.

I pulled from storage the patriotic leggings I made s few years back for a 4th of July 5K in Long Beach.

Twin 2 was going to wear the patriotic tutu I'd put together some years back but, at the last minute, lucked up on cute patriotic leggings 50% off at J.C. Penney.

Last time I did a 5K with Twin 2 (November 2017), I had to hustle to keep up with her. This time it was “Ma! You walk really fast”. She had to hustle to keep up with me.

I’d planned to run part of the race but, when my knees realized what my head was planning, they started acting up. So, I decided not to risk an injury and just fast walked at a nice clip.

The Pain Cave training paid off. My official finish time improved from 1:04:20 to 00:56:43, placing me at 179 out of 193, second in my age group ─ but hold the applause please, there were only three of us over 70 years of age, so I finished middle of the old folks pack, but passed fourteen in other age groups … younger.

After the 5K, I was treated to a much needed Mother’s Day mani/pedi.

Twin 1 opted to celebrate Mother’s Day weekend distributing food and roses to the homeless women of skid row/Los Angeles this morning.

If I hear from her tomorrow, whether a telephone call or a text message, it will be a miracle.

Last time I received a Mother’s Day acknowledgment from Twin 1 was some 10/12 years ago, when she invited me to drive down to Long Beach, spend the day with her, go to dinner, and she stiffed me with the bill. 

Instead of she taking me to dinner, I ended up taking her.

So, I will be stunned to get any sort of acknowledgment from Twin 1 this weekend, because that’s just the way she is. Everything is about her ─ it was so in the past and, even though she extends herself in serving the homeless, everything still is about her.

Twin 1’s service to others is a subconscious clearing of her Akashic record ─ atonement for past events, and I applaud her for that. However, what she does for others also fills the need she has for love, attention, approval ─ love, attention, approval she recently indicated I don’t give her enough of.

I ask you ... do they ever grow up?

So, anyway, today was my Mother's Day. Tomorrow I sleep late.

Happy Mother's Day! … tomorrow. 

A New Friend, A Compliment and Flipping the Bird

That’s been my day this Monday.

I’ve been indoors since my last post, working on that needlepoint project, watching television, enjoying my solitude ─ except for Friday, when I went down to the Community Room just long enough to check the bulletin board for what movie was showing at that evening’s Movie Night.

No movie was posted to the board.

Church Lady, working on a word puzzle, was the only senior in the room.

This being my first contact with a senior I could pump about last Friday’s showing of Monster’s Ball, and wanting to know how the seniors reacted to those raunchy sex scenes between Billy Bob Thornton and Haley Barry, I “slyly” worked in “How are you … bla bla bla bla bla ... How was movie night last week?”

Now Church Lady walks with her back hunched over, like she’s carrying a heavy burden. I don’t know if it’s a medical curvature of the spine issue or a poor posture habit (I think habit), and she also sits hunched over. When I mentioned last week’s movie night, she got highly animated, sat straight up (so for sure it’s a habit) and said, “Girl! We were shocked! There was some stuff in there!”

“It wasn’t like it wasn’t something we never did, but we were embarrassed” and put her head down to look at the floor indicating how people in the room had reacted and not made eye contact with each other.

ROFLMAO!

I didn’t think to ask if anyone had walked out, but I assume everyone was too stunned to move.

Church Lady went on to say there was a huge bruhaha AFTER the movie, with questions being asked as to whose idea it was, who provided the DVD and why it wasn’t reviewed before being offered to the seniors.

She said there was a lot of “it wasn’t me” going around.

So now my quest is to find out if no movie night this last Friday is a consequence of complaints about what was shown the previous Friday.

Running out of supplies, it was with great reluctance I put away the needlepoint project today and ventured out into the world to run errands. Reluctant because, you know .... people.

I’ve amazed myself in how much progress has been made on that needlepoint project in one month but, ten to twelve-hour days, at the expense of grocery shopping, PokémonGo hunting and exercise (except for that one day I worked out on the indoor bike and threw in some yoga) made the difference.

Progress: September to December

Progress: December to January

At any rate, the first people encounter was a woman pulling up in the parking lot of Trader Joe’s playing a tape I recognized the voice as being my spiritual teacher.

I approached, explained that was my teacher of 35 years she was listening to. She said she was led to the teaching 5 years ago. We felt such a kindship at lucking into a like-minded individual that we hugged each other and exchanged numbers.

So, a new friend.

Then, as I was heading to the car, a girl commented on my camo leggings, saying how cute they were, asking where I purchased.

“Oh thanks”, said I “Walmart, online”.

“Oh, soooo cute”.

So, a compliment.

THEN, I stopped by Victoria Gardens, with plans to do a little walking, hit up the PokémonGo stops since I was in the area.

After parking the car, I walked to a sidewalk, stopped, turned on the app to check for the nearest Stop when, all of a sudden, I hear this female voice yelling from a passing car, “Do not text while walking! and bla bla bla bla bla bla bla”. I couldn’t tell what else she was saying as she cowardly sped away.

Since I wasn’t able to yell back to her that one, I was not walking, I was checking my phone while stopped; and two, I wasn’t texting, I was playing PokémonGo, I made my thoughts known by standing where she could see me in her rear-view mirror, arm raised and flipped her my middle finger until she drove out of sight.

So, I momentarily lost my religion for a bit and flipped a stranger the bird.

Two good people encounters out of three.

I may give it another go tomorrow, head down to interact with the seniors on Pizza Tuesday.

We’ll see.

New Year, Business as Usual

Twenty eighteen was a good year for me. No major complaints. Nothing I desperately wanted or needed to change this year, so I didn’t lock myself into any resolutions per se.

That’s not to say there are not things I need to improve ─ like train/walk more, maybe go to the gym, it’s just that I no longer set those as goals because, now that I'm retired and my time is my own, I know I can’t go back to a schedule, a regiment. I’m more free flow now ─ listening to the Universe and going with the flow.

However, it did cross my mind that I should rein in my shopping.

It’s a good thing I didn’t set that as a goal, was only thinking about it, because by 7:00 I’d made my first purchase of the year ─ not a need, but a want.

As seen on Debra's/She Who Seeks site

The year’s still young, so I’ll reset and think harder about reining in my shopping … that is after I order the same shirt for Twin 2, who will love it.

I want to wait until mine arrives and I can test for size before I order for Twin 2.

Second order of business for today was to tackle the patio’s Christmas decorations — box everything up, get things back in storage.

The wind was blowing so hard last night that I thought there’d be no patio decorations to store, that I’d awake to find everything gone with the wind.

Checking the patio around 6:00 a.m., I found nothing gone, someone’s empty fast food bag added, the chair, decorations, rug jumbled and shoved into a corner.

At any rate, by noon, the patio was back to pre-Christmas condition — everything neatly stored, not to be seen for another year.

I’ll have to find out how yesterday’s New Years Eve party went — that is if there was one.

My buddy Apache texted me in the morning that instead of 2:00 PM to 1:00 AM, the festivities had been rescheduled — 5:00 to 7:00, because “the replacements don’t know how to set the code”.

What apache meant was that what staff we had on the property New Year’s Eve were temps working half day and none knew how to reset the code on the Community Room doors to remain unlocked past 7:00 PM.

That didn’t explain why the event start was moved from 2:00 to 5:00 but whatever the reason, I lost interest, decided it wasn’t worth the effort to brave the cold wind and stayed warm and comfortable in my unit.

Apache is not one to have his plans thwarted by management, so I expect his not being able to have the room past midnight is going on his list of grievances. And the fact he didn’t post any photos to the resident’s Facebook page means it either didn’t happen or no one showed up.

I’m expecting the worst because I can feel how angry he is ─ not at me, or the residents, but at management.

Figuring the market would be closing early yesterday, I made a quick trip for black bean soup ingredients.

The market was crowded and not much fun now that it’s back to business as usual with hide and seek over. Since hide and seek was so successful, hopefully they’ll bring back the elf next year.

Because the market parking lot was crowded, I’d parked way off in a corner. Returning to the car, I discovered that parking spot was pinging on a Pokémon GO Gym, under the control of Team Yellow (Instinct). I being Team Red (Valor) decided to hon my skills by engaging in a battle with the three Team Yellow creatures in the gym.

I won!

First time winning a battle and I won all three!

Not knowing what to do after winning, I shut down the game and returned to the complex.

Upon booting up the computer and researching what come next, I learned I missed an opportunity. After winning, I should have claimed the gym for Team Red and left a creature behind to fight off opposing teams that tried to claim or reclaim the gym.

Now I just have to figure out how to claim.

Living and learning. That should be my goal for 2019 ─ keep living and learning.

I Can’t with These Millennials

In October, it was that Target worker who didn’t know how to properly bag breakables that caused me to realize just how clueless and irresponsible young people can be.

Fortunately, I’m not called upon to interact much with people under 55 years of age but I had to make a trip to Ralphs Market yesterday, because it’s the only place where I can find tofu (Shirataki) noodles.

While there, I picked up a few other wet products, like frozen cauliflower rice, frozen broccoli, et al.

At the checkout, I reached into my cloth bag, pulled out the Ralphs plastic bags and gave to the young bagger.

I became livid, yelling to myself, “What did he do! What’s wrong with him!” when I reached to unload at the car, and saw he’d not used the store bags I’d given him but, when I was otherwise occupied paying the cashier, he’d retrieved my cloth bag from the cart and put all the wet ingredients in it.

What did he do with the store bags?

Why, he’d put them inside the cloth bag as well.

It’s tiring me out.

I just can’t with these millennials.

The straw that broke the camel’s back was my millennial granddaughter texting, earlier that morning, that the 2004 Saturn I’d gifted her in February, when I bought the Jeep, had been stolen.

Poor thing has been through a lot.

I’m not speaking of granddaughter as poor thing, but the car.

While spending Thanksgiving in Long Beach, I’d gotten a look at the Saturn. It obviously had not seen a car wash in a long time, plus there was that chunk out of the left side back door, caused by granddaughter being hit in the traffic circle. The grandsons advised she’s also not keeping up with maintenance/oil.

Oh and btw, from that traffic circle accident I learned granddaughter was driving without insurance.

Call Geico, I tell her. Get a quote. I’ll pay for it.

Nothing happens.

THEN, I get that woe is me text that the car was stolen, along with everything she owns ─ clothes/shoes, as she was in the process of moving.

“I don't know why bad things keep happening” she bemoans.

This is California!

Any fool knows you don’t drive without insurance and you don’t leave anything in a car to temp thieves, but I resisted saddling her with blame. Instead, I said the Universe is throwing some hard tests her way and that hopefully the car will be found, with her items safely inside. In the meantime, it’s back to the bus and Uber, I say but add “Something good will happen. Expect a miracle”.

An hour later, “Car not stolen. Towed”.

There’s your miracle but ... “Towed for why?”

“Three parking tickets”.

WT Heck! thought I, but pulled from my savings and sent her enough to get the car from tow, pay citations, and it was a lot of $$$$ and once again say, “Get a Geico quote”.

Along with this gift of $$$$ came my texting to her that the Universe was being kind this time, that complete loss of the car and belongings would have been a far harder lesson than tow, especially when the loss would have been the result of something as small as parking where she’d not be ticketed, then failing to pay the first parking ticket, go on to garner two more.

In retrospect, I should have left her to the consequences of her own actions ─ no clothes, back to buses and Uber. But the car, previously well-maintained and having served me well for so long, didn’t deserve to be abandoned to the tow yard.

At any rate, granddaughter says she’ll use the $$$$ wisely and get on top of things immediately, but I don’t know. I’m suspicious that there’s something I don’t know about that’s the reason for no insurance, but I’m now at the place of I don’t want to know, and shouldn’t care because she’s a grown ass millennial woman and I just can’t with these millennials any longer.

My future dealings with granddaughter's dramas will be much like the relationship in this clip of Woopi Goldberg and Tiffany Haddish in their new movie Nobody’s Fool.