I Knew It!

The painters removed the orange cones and no parking signs yesterday afternoon, so the jeep is back to its regular spot.

Hopefully this means the painting project is done and over with, but as I was yesterday doubting that and wondering what fresh new hell Management was planning for us, little Knock Knock was at my door.

That’s three days in a row she knocked just to give me a hug — which is kinda nice, but kinda not; and this time, when I asked where her grandma was, she said Talker was sitting with the girls on the benches by the laundry room, discussing notices of a $94 rent increase being attached to doors.

There it is, thought I, the fresh new hell I was wondering Management would come up with.

Said notice hasn’t made it to my door yet, but there’s no doubt it’s coming and I’m suspicious of the timing.

In the long long ago time, Management would at least throw us a party, begin posting rent increase notices while we were distracted at the party. This time, notices began just as the painters were completing the upgrade on the complex, like giving us a bill for services rendered.

We didn’t ask for the upgrade, we’d rather have had a party, but it looks like we’re paying for the paint job instead.

Oh well, nothing we can do but tighten the budget belt.

In other news, Her Royal Highness — the young Black girl helping out in the office during Assistant Manager’s pregnancy leave, that managed to get on my bad side by talking to me like I was a child that needed correcting, is no longer here. She quit … supposedly because she didn’t like the drive from her home in Pomona.

The drive from here to Pomona is only 39 minutess, 33 miles, so I’m not entirely sold on her leaving because of dissatisfaction with the drive.

Last few times I caught glimpses of her, her aura looked dimmed, she seemed not so full of herself as when first arriving.

Water reaches its own level so, with her original inflated sense of self, it probably deflated her that this is not a place where she can flex, no one here to impress or seem impressed by her, so she moved on.

Whatever the reason, her highness is gone, no loss to the community.

Talker’s 40-year-old may soon be getting his walking papers. I’d previously reported Talker saying he was at the "getting on her nerves" stage. Now, she says, "I’m getting tired of teaching".

A 40-year-old isn’t all that young, should be well versed in what it takes to keep a woman’s interest, knew very well the woman he was taking on is 72-years-old so I’m not so sure how he’s failing; but it’s looking like he’ll soon be history.

Today was a Namaste Bitches kind of day.

Heading out for gas and groceries, I spied the door to the Pain Cave wide open … an invitation for me to pop in, mess with Trainer, yell "Namaste Bitches" as I walked in the door.

His wife was in the studio, gave me a big hug, said she had not been aware that the Ms. Shirley she followed on TikTok was my daughter.

She and Trainer began talking about things … good things they’d seen, read about, etc., but things I’d rather not hear or speak about because it’s still too raw, sets off the waterworks. So, I turned the conversation onto the fighters and why was the door wide open.

Trainer said he doesn’t want to change locations, but needs to upgrade the studio, so he and wife were there to figure out how to do that, make the studio less cluttered, more bougie.

Wife said she got on his case about my leaving because he kept moving me around, not paying attention to my warnings about it.

I said I was okay with it until that last move had me in a tight corner by the bathroom, that nobody puts baby in a corner.

She said she’ll try to work out a proper space for Personal Training in the new plan. I told Trainer to send me a picture when they work it out, and we’ll talk.

So, we’ll see about my returning to the Pain Cave.

My body would thank me but, with the high cost of groceries, the rent increase, and with the 15 years of distribution on my other sources of income rapidly coming to an end, I’m not so sure I can fit it in the budget.

We’ll see.

Proof of Life

You will never believe who I saw walking down the walkway with Lu yesterday at 5:30 PM.

I’ll give you a hint … it was someone who was almost in tears, heart broke she’d called the relationship off for the umpteenth time, this time her calling if off because he had not the funds to satisfy her gold digging tendencies (per him), saying he can’t take the off/on, on/off, off/on any longer, vowing to never put himself in that position again.

If you guessed the person I saw looking pleased as punch, while walking along with Lu to be Dream Lover, you’d be 100% correct.

Seems he folded, a case of Please Lu, May I Have Some More.

What a simp; but, oh well, it be that way sometimes.

Today was spent child proofing the unit in advance of a visit by the Great Grandbabies tomorrow, now 3 and 4 years old — moved pins and needles away from causing harm to curious little fingers, moved the Life Alert box to higher grounds, away from buttons being pushed/generating a false alert, took a photo of my feng shui numbers focusing on fulfillment, independence, balance so that, when the numbers get moved and played with, I can remember what order to return them to.

Far far away, I put baskets filled with flash drives, small electronics and items I keep nearby for ease of use, so they wouldn’t get played with and lost; unplugged the laptop, relocated it out of sight to the bedroom, unplugged the power strip for the craft lamps and laptop that was likely to be tripped over, relocated that strip out of sight to the bedroom as well. The craft lamps I left as is, not worried they’d be knocked over in play and if they did get knocked over wouldn’t be a big deal or loss as I no longer use them.

Then, with chips already in the cupboard, I headed to the market, stocked up on turkey dogs, hot dog buns, catsup, pickle relish, so granddaughter wouldn't have to worry about bringing food for the kids.

I forgot mustard; but, oh well.

Then, seeing the doors to the Pain Cave across the street open, indicating Trainer was in the studio today, I drove over to surprise him … walked up to the door, yelled, "Namaste bitches!"

To which he responded, "Oh hell no", looking pleased to see me.

Saying all the fighters keep asking about me, but not in a have you seen Shirley lately kind of way but instead asking, "Is Shirley still alive", LOL, I left him with a proof of life selfie, which he promptly posted to Instagram with the song "Today was a Good Day" by Ice Cube; and a promise, per his request, I’d stop by more often.

Trainer later turned an old photo into this ……

And later still, same graphic but with Shaboozy's song "Last of My Kind".

That song fits me.

Trainer misses me … a lot.

End of Cuffing Season

Life has been pretty sweet last few days — no Ernie, no Crafty Lady.

Cuffing Season generally ends between February and March, so not seeing either of the two around may indicate the season is winding down early.

In fact, I've had no irritants other than the Clown in the Oval Office, but I’m more and more convinced the end is near for him.

In fact, he may be gone already and what we're seeing is A.I.

Posts on facebook last night were all about the Danes wanting to buy California.

I myself am flattered that out of all the states to choose from, they chose us Californians.

No surprise, others expressed wanting in on the deal. Comments were along the lines of …………

"Can Oregon jump in on this? Maybe like a free gift with purchase?"

"Missouri is worth 7 cents ………… please buy us, it's a bargain and we'll be taking offers".

"*Raises hand in Austin, TX*".

"The pastries sealed the deal".

"Great Danes: Will you take Oklahoma?"

"Alabama will be cheaper. Where do I sign".

"Do the residents already living in California get Denmark citizenship? I will literally move to Cali immediately!"

On and on and on, with one commenter pointing out — "Craziest part is they technically can. Because California doesn’t technically belong to the US. It was an island that smashed into the U.S.A. and it just kinda became one of the states".

That being the case, give me the signal and I’ll start learning the language.

In other news, the Activity Calendar indicated "Winter Crafts" for yesterday’s Kesha Tuesday.

Busy doing nothing, I didn’t even bother to go downstairs to check. Instead, I called the Baker, asked if she was in the Community Room.

She was and evidently couldn’t talk freely, just kinda grunted yes that she was in the room, grunted no when I asked if there were crafts.

After moving away from where she was seated, so she could talk freely, she said Kesha had stayed long enough to give them bags of potato chips and then disappeared, that it was not worth my time to get dressed, come down.

I wonder if, when we become Danish territory, we can get a better Manager and Activity Director to go along with "universal health care, fact-based politics, and a lifetime supply of Danish pastries".

Late Saturday night, I got a sweet message from ex-Trainer.

He went to the trouble of putting that compilation together.

I think he misses me.

He could talk to me on a level he couldn’t with any of his other clients, nor even a level his wife could understand.

I miss him too and, if he ever moved to a different location, where he once again had space dedicated to personal training, I’d go back because, though I have exercise equipment up the wazoo in my unit, what I don’t have is motivation to get off the couch and workout.

Nobody Puts Baby in a Corner

I didn’t work out this morning, won’t be working out Friday, I broke up with Trainer.

It was a shock when I walked into the Pain Cave on Monday, found Trainer had once again moved the warm-up station, which consists of the treadmill and strength equipment.

Long time readers will recall Trainer has a habit of doing so.

In the 5 years he’s been my personal trainer, Trainer has moved the warm-up station something like 9 or 10 times from one area of the Cave to another — different areas in the main room, then from one area to another in the back room, then back to the front room, back to the back room, so on and so forth.

Reason being, "You are the only client using the treadmill", Trainer said …… a treadmill he finds in the way of his boxing clients.

The others personal training clients do jumping jacks and squats in-between sets/reps instead of the treadmill, and though some of the boxers have also used the treadmill to run, it didn't seem to matter to Trainer that I wasn't actually the only one using.

I understood Trainer’s logic ─ I’m old, have to do things the gentle way, so though I didn’t always like where I was moved to and felt somewhat like the red-haired stepchild that doesn’t quite fit in, I adjusted.

Last year or so, I was quite content with a corner in the back room — I had privacy, Alexa was set to provide music I enjoy working out to, so all was well.

However, I should have known something was afoot when Trainer began saying things like, "You don’t need all this area".

"You are the one that put me here", said I, and that was that. Until, I came in one day and found three quarters of the back room had been fitted with pads for the fighters, which meant not only was there now no space for the floor ladder equipment and the ropes, but when there was an overflow of fighters in the front room, I’d sometimes be watching fighters spar in the same room I was being trained in.

Over the years, Trainer’s fighting side of the business has exploded. He’s made a name for himself in the world of Muay Thai boxing as this big shot trainer, with fighters who are winning high profile events. Consequently, people are coming from all over to train with him, so I adjusted and sometimes enjoyed watching the boys tussle.

But then, on Monday, I walked in and found Trainer had moved me from the back room to the front room where the bulk of his fighters are now training.

Watching two in-training while working out was one thing; watching 10 to 12 boxing, sweating, grunting is a different animal.

My workout station was relegated to a tight, cramped corner in the back of the room, by a sink and the bathroom. I had no privacy, had not the music I enjoy working out to, did not see any of the strength equipment I usually work out with and, if he’d set aside to pull out later, there was not the room for me to perform side and overhead lifts. Not to mention the odor in the room alone emanating from those hot sweaty bodies, was enough to gag.

So, there I was, the red-haired stepchild, back of the bus like Rosa Parks, squeezed into a feng shui chi less corner, feeling claustrophobic, uncomfortable, surrounded by fighters — most of whom I know, refer respectfully to me as "Miss Shirley", and Trainer devoting his time between training me and coaching them.

Mama wasn’t happy.

I did hint at my unhappiness by saying to Trainer that with all the fame and glory he's getting, he shouldn't forget those of us who were with him in the beginning; that "You have no loyalty".

He didn’t catch the hint, took it as a joke.

When I left the Pain Cave on Monday, there wasn’t that feeling of euphoria I usually get from working out. Instead, I felt a heaviness.

Yesterday, when I went down to the Community Room for crafts, I found the room full of residents. No crafts that day, instead there were waiting for some kind of luncheon to begin.

I just said a quick hello to everyone, was preparing to head back to my unit when the little Spanish lady that I’d gone to Zumba class with, stopped me. asked if I was still working out at the Pain Cave.

"I’m thinking about quitting", came out of nowhere.

I hadn’t realized I was thinking about quitting, but having heard myself say it out loud, I couldn’t stop thinking about it, tossed and turned all last night, dreading about going in to train, face that tight cramped warm-up station and other conditions this morning.

Waking up this morning, I was set on not going in today, realized that this was actually the end of the road for Trainer and I.

Trainer outlasted my other relationships but, in the end, he made the same mistake others have made ……… Got too relaxed, took me for granted.

I'm not good at breaking up. When not happy in a relationship — dentist, hairdresser, boyfriend, etc., I change my number, drop out of sight, ghost 'em, but Trainer and I had grown especially close, so I sent him a proper breakup message.

He offered to change my workout time to when no one else is in the Cave, which is what it was like before his business blew up, but I declined saying, "There's now no place for me to be moved to. It’s still the same tight cramped corner that I’m not comfortable with", so he was gracious, texted back ……

Which made me cry.

First time a breakup hurt my heart, so now I’m walking around weepy, but already considering what to do to stay fit — maybe online workout classes, so I don’t have to leave the unit or sign up for the Zumba class being offered across the street.

While I'm considering my next move, Trainer is probably having the treadmill carted out, LOL.

Trainer’s wife is going to be mad at him. She’s warned him before about moving me from pillar to post so often, and now it’s cost him the loss of an easy $240 a month, for a half hours' worth of work.

In other news ……

Not the fancy Ott lamp I prefer, but delivery was fast, on-point, and Verilux is doing the job.

Sunday is National Chip and Dip Day

What?!, you didn’t know that, never heard of it.

Truth be told, I never heard of it either but, when I went down to the Community Room yesterday, to check out the seniors, I saw Activity Director had put out potato chips, salsa, guacamole, for an early celebration of Chip and Dip Day.

She didn’t have many takers, only Upstairs Lady — the resident who has problems with her legs, walks by propelling her body from side to side, and the new lovebirds — Dream Lover and Lu.

The love affair seems to be going strong, as I see the two carving a path on the walkway, going back/forth to each other’s unit, Lu looking adoringly at Dream Lover when I saw then in the Community Room, constantly touching his arm, shoulder, back.

A partner constantly touching me would drive me bonkers. I'd lose my shiz, grab and toss his hand away (I did do that once, when Michael, the drummer I dated back in the day, kept moving his fingers along my shoulder), but to each their own.

As long as Lu has her car to drive Dream Lover where he wants to go — he doesn’t drive, continues to supply him with homecooked meals — feed his stomach and ego with the adoring looks and touching, this one might take.

So, anyway, no intel of interest to be gleaned out of those three, I just said hi and goodbye.

I did find printouts of the monthly Activity Calendar, stacked up on a side table. So, I guess that’s the new method of getting the calendar to us …… check for printouts in the Community Room.

While in the room, I also noticed the Baker wasted my time, printer ink and 25 sheets of paper, when she had me revise this month’s Bingo flyer.

I’d already given her flyers to distribute and post. There was a date change, so she asked that I reprint.

No problem I.

She also asked me to add a blurb, saying it was because, "I've got to do something" about the noise ……… people talking, making it difficult for others to hear numbers being called, etc.

Again, no problem.

So, at the bottom of the flyer I added the words she'd given me, "Reminder: Please keep voices quiet when we are calling bingo, or if someone is calling bingo back to us."

I just knew some of the bingo players were going to be offended, weren’t going to like that blurb and, in the back of my mind, I kinda thought the Baker thought that if I thought she was doing something about the noise …… that gave me a headache last time I attended, I’d return to bingo.

I’m over bingo, won’t be returning under any circumstances.

At any rate, I saw the Baker had not posted the revised flyer with the blurb. Instead, she’d penciled in the date change onto the original flyer, posted that one.

I guess she too knew some of the players would be offended and, people pleaser that she is, chickened out.

She’s not like me. If I were going out of my way to arrange bingo, so the residents would have something to do …… using my time, my energy, my money to provide prizes, even baking cupcakes and providing other treats for break time, and you couldn’t respect or appreciate me enough to not steam roll all over me with your talking after I’ve constantly asked you not to …… the Baker even once had a rubber squawking chicken that she’d squeeze to quiet the room down, and last I saw brought a bell to ring to quiet the room down; if they nonetheless persisted, failed to comply with bingo etiquette, as they do, I’d pick up my bingo equipment and pull an Eric Cartman "Screw you guys, I'm going home".

I definitely will not go back to bingo.

I got a call from Manager yesterday, that guys were coming in to fix a problem with my patio this morning, would be arriving at 8:30 AM.

When Head Maintenance Guy did his pre-inspection before the Regulatory Agency was due to arrive for its random inspections, he spotted an area on the patio that appeared to be peeling.

He indicated, at that time, it wasn’t a big deal, that I was not likely to one day step out on the patio, find myself crashing down to the first floor.

When the Regulatory guy toured my unit, I saw the Inspector and Head Maintenance Guy looking at and having a conversation about the area.

I guess it was then decided it was a big deal after all, needed to be repaired.

This morning was a workout day, and with the guys set to arrive at 8:30, to patch up the hole, I was sure I’d be able to keep my 11 AM schedule.

Didn’t work out that way.

What I thought was a patch job, turned out to be a complete patio redo, estimated to take all morning.

I had to text Trainer that I was giving him the morning off.

BTW, last Wednesday marked my 6th year training at the Pain Cave. My first session was March 12, 2019.

I've told Trainer that he’s the longest lasting relationship I’ve ever had with a man.

Though Trainer still tries to "push me … build", unfortunately there’s a lot my 81-year-old body won’t now let me do. So "cross fit" has slowly morphed into "maintain fit".

The work on the patio began early — 8 AM. The guys completed and left at 12:30, with instructions for me to wait until tomorrow to put patio furniture back in place.

I originally had a wood floor patio but, when the current management group took the complex over in 2012, they replaced the patio floors with concrete, and did so without entering the unit …… they went up and down a ladder.

So, though I don't understand why the guys didn't use the same manner to do the work, so I didn't have to stay home, watching the process while working on that never ending needlepoint project was interesting.

The guys put down something that looked like chicken wire over the existing patio, poured concrete, sanded the concrete down, finished by painting the concrete.

Painting the concrete was new to me, it looked fine as it was, but whatever.

The guys were respectful, affable and managed to do all the work without getting a speck of mess anywhere inside.

Quickie

Just as I got out of the car to head inside the Pain Cave for this morning’s workout, I got a phone alert that power in the area was out.

There was enough sunlight streaming in through the windows that the front room of the cave was workable for classes. However, the personal training area is in a back room, no sunlight.

So, with no electricity for the equipment I work on, no light in the area, no music, I just said hello/goodbye to Trainer, "I’ll see you on Wednesday …… If power restored".

Knowing soup was needed to get through this outage, but all out of vegetables, I headed across the street to the market.

Cashier was telling me they do have a generator, but it doesn’t kick in until needed to save the frozen items.

There is a shield that comes into play to keep frozen and cold items frozen/cold until the generator kicks in, and you can see one of those shields in the above video. Otherwise, the store generally has a few hours before that generator kicks in, lights turn on.

In the interim, everything else works, but in the dark.

So, anyway, I was rocking and rolling with the outage as I returned to the complex, prepared for no TV, burners but no oven to bake the salmon I'd planned for the day, that I'd have to pan fry it.

Meat Man was driving out of the complex, as I was crossing the parking lot. He pulled up, wished me Happy MLK Day, gave me a pep talk about you know who's second term, saying "We've survived worse" …… he's right, and "God is in control" …… right again.

While rewarming my morning coffee in a pot on the stove, I heard a clicking noise.

Checking around the unit to locate the noise, I noticed it was the printer rebooting.

That only happens when the power has been turned off and, because the printer is attached to a cord in a wall outlet, it automatically reboots when power is restored.

I checked further and, sure enough, TV and laptop powered up. Power was back at 12 noon, had only been off for an hour.

Thinking this might be some kind of a trick, I'm now online posting this quickie before power goes out again, which I expect will be in any second as the winds are still howling.

As far as this business about today's event being moved inside because of the cold, I'm not buying it.

I'm not watching any news today, so I don't know if the news channels are showing what's going on outside the area, but I find I have temporary access to Tik Tok on my laptop (not my phone) and the following is what I'm seeing.

Thousands protesting (not millions as I previously commented). They don't seem to mind the cold weather.

Before the power company kicks me offline, I'll leave you with this ……

Severe Weather and Power Restoration Update

The high winds continue to plague the area, and though the power company continues to issue Public Safety Power Shutoff Warning, we’re still up and running.

Looking at all the devastation in the Los Angeles and Palisades area, seeing how some homeowners refused to evacuate, stayed behind to fight the fire with water hoses, brought back to mind we here don’t have that option because, back in 2015 that mean Nurse Ratched — Complex Manager at the time, issued a notice "Due to the drought, we will be eliminating the water spigot in the patios".

That’ right. Nurse Ratched, in her insane wisdom of making sure the drought restrictions, officially put in place at that time were complied with, had ordered the then maintenance guys to cut off all the water spigots because she didn’t trust residents to not attach hoses to water patio plants during the drought.

To this day I don’t know if Corporate even knows she damaged the property doing that, if there’s some fire code making it illegal to have deprived residents of a way to protect themselves in a fire emergency until the Fire Department arrives, and whether or not this lack of spigots is a hindrance to the Fire Department’s fighting a fire should they need an additional water source.

I don’t even know if our current Manager even knows we have no spigots, they’ve been cut off and cemented over.

I do know that, back in 2017, after Nurse Ratched was fired for embezzling, the Manager we had that year did notice.

She voiced how strange there were no spigots and, fortunately, I just happened to be present when she questioned it and informed her it was her predecessor’s bright idea, which predecessor I described to her as a terrible human, only I used the word "b _ _ ch".

At that time, I asked if spigots could or would be reinstalled, but never heard back on that topic.

Maybe because that Manager was fired for being too nice to us before she got around to looking into the issue.

So, anyway, today was the first day I was able to workout in the Pain Cave since last Monday.

Trainer informed me that, because all the electronic precautions he had set up to prevent another break-in were down during the outage, he slept in the studio.

That had to be cold, dark, rough. Plus, he said he got no sleep because he had to stay awake, be attentative as to who was on the lot at night and why.

He had me laughing at how it was that when he’d see someone walking around on the lot 2:30/3:00 in the morning, he’d confront them with "Who are you, why are you here?".

At least now, if there is another outage, and if it was someone casing the joint to take advantage of the outage to break in, destroy the expensive glass window, tear holds in the walls, like before, to get to the liquor store again, they now know Trainer is onto them, and won’t even bother coming around with bad intent next time.

After telling him about the solar generator I just bought, he indicated he’ll probably do the same just in case we do get shut down again this week.

He won’t be able to keep the studio open with a little generator, but at least he can run a heater and a coffee pot …… keep warm during his mall cop hours.

My Dysfunctional Family

Trainer and I had an argument this morning.

I don’t recall what we were talking about, but the argument started when he said something about today being Friday.

"Today is not Friday, it’s Monday", said I.

"No it’s not. Today is Friday".

"No it’s not", I insisted.

"Yes it is", he insisted.

We went back and forth until I told him to "Stop trying to confuse me!". Whereupon he asked the fighters in the other room to come in for a moment.

With all three standing at attention, waiting to see what their Coach had to say, he asked "What day is today?".

All three responded "Friday".

"She thought I was messing with her when I told her today was not Monday".

They all got a good laugh as I conceded, today must be Friday.

Senior moment number nine hundred ninety-nine.

I don’t know about you, but I will be so glad with the holidays are over and I go back to my regular routine, which I pretty much know by rote.

There seems to be some interest in how I ended up with an 18 year old great granddaughter I never knew I had.

The story of how the trip to Disneyland with granddaughter and the great grandbabies, and the Christmas Eve trip to tour Mission Inn’s Festival of Lights, again with granddaughter and the great grandbabies, also included a newly acquired 18 year old great granddaughter, goes like this ………

Granddaughter has a sister, a granddaughter to me who was lost to the world at an early age. Family members are not in actual contact with her, but word has reached us over the years that she gave birth to a son and because of her "issues" that son, against her wishes, was adopted away from her.

Trust me when I say, it was in the best interest of the child.

I never heard that she later also gave birth to a daughter, who was also taken from her, adopted out.

I became aware of the new great granddaughter back in August, when granddaughter contacted me to say she’d been contacted by her sister's daughter (news to her as well that she had a niece).

I’m not clear on whether the new great granddaughter knew she was adopted. However, after I met her, asked how she found us, I concluded she must have at some point learned she’d been adopted.

Again, I'm not clear on whether she was looking, or it just happened that she ran across paperwork with Twin 1’s name.

She researched Twin 1’s name, found her on social media.

Seeing the resemblance, she was hesitant to contact, find out for sure if related and how when she saw Twin 1 was quite famous due to her work for the homeless.

Telling me she thought to herself Twin 1 "Has so many followers, she’ll never pay attention to a message from me", she took a chance, posted something on Twin 1’s social media page.

Twin 1 responded, confirmed the relationship (grandmother), gave new great granddaughter the names of us all, put new great granddaughter in contact with granddaughter (aunt) and she has since met the boys (uncles) Twin 2 (great aunt) me.

New great granddaughter even researched and found her father, met and spent time with her mom (the extra special dysfunctional one in our dysfunctional family), which turned out to be a mistake new great granddaughter likely won’t repeat.

The rest of us appears to be a breath of fresh air for new great granddaughter, because the woman who adopted her is "Super religious", which has somewhat stifled new great granddaughter's normal natural propensities.

"Super religious" in that, when new great granddaughter began to show an interest in the spirit world and occult sciences, which is as natural as breathing to the rest of us, the super religious lady took her to the hospital, thought she’d become psychotic. ROFLMAO, but not really funny to make that child think something was wrong with her.

It was the same for me growing up. Mom and other family members thought something was wrong with me because I didn't think like they thought.

I wasted a lot of years trying to conform, was miserably unhappy until, in my early 20's I had a revelation ……… there's nothing wrong with me, they are the ones who are crazy and completely turned my miserable existence around by turning off the noise coming from others in the family as to what I should do, how I should act, began making my own decisions.

New great granddaughter tells me that when she was led to Tarot Cards, began collecting, realized she could read them, actually became a reader for those who requested, the super religious one saw it as devil’s work and tossed the cards in the trash.

New great granddaughter obtained new cards and hides them.

This dysfunctional side of the family has embraced new great granddaughter.

When she told me the super religious one had taken her in for psychotic care because she doesn't think like her adopted family thinks, I said, "Aint nothing wrong with you girl. It’s in the blood" and asked her to give me a reading, which she did very well.

For Christmas, her great aunt (Twin 2) gifted her with a set of Tarot Cards, which she undoubtedly will have to hide from the super religious one.

When asking about how her life has been, it’s been okay, normal, no complaints other than having to stifle her spiritual occult side because she lives with super religious church people.

She just graduated from high school and wants to go into nursing.

It’s Raining Santas, Hallelujah!

Why did I titled today's post "It's Raining Santas, Hallelujah!"??

If you know you know, but I'll give you a clue ……… think The Weather Girls.

So, what had happened was, walking into the Pain Cave yesterday morning, what did I see but another Santa.

One of Trainer's elite fighters had been volunteered, by his wife, to be Santa at their son’s school, so he popped in after to surprise Trainer.

Trainer was not in the mood.

After having had to help fend off a neighborhood crazy, causing trouble for Liquor Store Guy just minutes before, Trainer said that seeing Santa walk through the door, not recognizing him, his reaction was no reaction.

Said, he deadpanned and pondered what fresh hell could this be, until Santa spoke, said "It's me".

My reaction was like it always is when I see the big guy ……… fan girling, yelling "SANTA!!", and heading in for a photo.

This Santa was more than happy to accommodate my photo request, and from his manly proud pose, it doesn't look like he's minding at all that I'm climbing all over him.

Saturday is Breakfast with Santa ……… which will be my third Santa sighting this week, but the atmosphere will be don't touch, keep it PG.

I'll still jump around like a kid and yell "SANTA!!", when he shows up; but otherwise behave appropriately.

Popping into the market after yesterday's Santa sighting, I saw something that should be reported to the SPCE, Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Elves ……… Holly hidden away in deplorable conditions.

I protested ……… said to a store employee in the area that the poor thing was freezing to death; whereupon another employee spoke up and jokingly said, "She's from Canada. She can handle the cold".

I wasn’t buying it and walked away mumbling, "The poor thing".

TGIF!!!

And not just any Friday, but a bingo free Friday. Which meant that, after the morning workout, I did not have to rush back to the complex, waste three hours on bingo.

Instead, I stopped by the market for supplies, returned, locked myself inside, did as I pleased the remainder of the day.

It was difficult to decide what to wear to the morning workout, because it was raining when I awoke.

Thinking long sleeve top, boots, rain jacket, umbrella, I was thrown off when rain stopped and the sun came out.

Just when I pivoted to regular wear, the sun went away and the rain started again.

From there it was rain then sun shining — vacillating off/on minute by minute, and even rain with the sun shining at the same time.

It was wild.

Then came a downpour, followed shortly by the sun shining, outside quickly drying up.

I took it all to mean the Heavens are just as upset, disturbed, pissed off as we are about what’s going on down here.

When all was said and done, I stepped out in boots, a warm hoodie, carried an umbrella and, of course the weather changed. I needed none of that and was burning up in that warm hoodie by the time I walked into the Pain Cave.

Trainer’s class of fighters-in-training were ending their session as I entered and, as usual, I greeted all with "Namaste!". Which, in my world translates to "The Christ in me salutes the Christ in You" and then I added "TGIF".

Trainer looked amused, said "They don’t know what TGIF means".

"Really? They don’t?", asked I.

Trainer took a poll, and many did not know what TGIF stood for.

They’re all young teens and 20 somethings, which may be why. But still, I’m flabbergasted, because TGIF is a universal thing.

So, anyway, it’s been a nice leisurely afternoon of crafting — trying to catch up on photos that need to be added to the Creative Memory book.

This one page I completed today is likely to get me in trouble with the family, as the Playdate Summer of Science photos led me to build a design around them that’s based on an Emmy Award winning TV series.

I tried to go in a less controversial, more kid-friendly direction, but the photos kept leading me to be designed thusly.

I myself am pleased with the layout, it makes me giggle, and though family might not find the layout amusing, it will probably fly over the heads of future generations .... be puzzling, just like TGIF is to this generation.

So it is what it is.

Which of you get it? Know the Emmy Award winning show that inspired me to go in this direction?

The Other Friday

Being a roll with the punches type human, now that the election is over in the worst possible way, I find myself strangely calm, nerves no longer on edge, over it.

Standing on my spiritual training and belief that everything happens for a reason, that the Universe has a plan, afraid to hold onto hope in the first place, once all was said and done I didn’t even cycle through the normal stages of denial, anger, bargaining, depression. I went straight through to acceptance and moving on.

I did stress eat last few days. Probably gained 5+ pounds but, other than that, it was business as usual when I awoke this morning, realized tomorrow is the other Friday, of bingo’s every other Friday schedule.

I will say this though ………… Trainer is rather gleeful about the outcome of the election, saying he was better off when 45 was prez.

I’m no political expert, but I do think in an unemotional logical Leonard Spock manner, and think that’s because Trainer was still benefitting from the Obama years when 45 took over. By the time Biden took over, 45 had mucked things up so that the hard times Trainer attributes to Biden were roll overs from 45’s years.

At any rate, Trainer thinks prices will now go down, yada yada yada.

Dream on.

I countered with, "More than likely, you’ll be deported and I’ll lose my Social Security".

"Do you know how hard it will be to get rid of Social Security, all the hoops?"

"They managed to overturn Roe vs. Wade, so …………"

"That was during Biden".

"Sure, but put in place to happen by 45".

At any rate, our back and forth ended with my saying "You do know I won’t be able to afford your prices and will have to opt out of training if I lose my Social Security".

"I tell you what, Shirley. If you lose your Social Security, I’ll train you for free."

"Deal".

Trainer is so sure 45/47 couldn’t dissolve Social Security that he’s bet free training against a raise in his fee — the amount to be decided by me.

Like a fool I said an additional $25.

He said he’d have been good with $1.

At any rate, I’d love free training, but I hope I’m wrong, Trainer is right, that Social Security will be safe from the dark lord and his minions.

Time will tell.

A very short time I’m guessing.

So, anyway, tomorrow's plan is to rush down to the Community Room after tomorrow morning’s workout, set up bingo cards, glass chips and my water bottle to indicate seat taken.

I feel comfortable that, after the week before last’s hissy fit because two old biddies played stupid and took my spot, no one will try that again, though I’m actually hoping someone will, so I can calmly turn around, walk out, make that the reason I’ll no longer burden myself with bingo duty.

What If

Believe it or not, I’ve got nothing.

This past week has been the quietest most serene week I’ve experienced in ages.

That may be because, other than Trainer, I’ve not seen nor spoken to another individual. I also stopped watching the news, because all the political stuff was causing me to become depressed, worried, demoralized.

I’m just gonna trust the Universe, prepare myself emotionally for the worst possible outcome in November, lay low until then, keep my thoughts on it all to myself because I don’t want or need the Secret Service coming after me.

Except, I will say that inasmuch as I am not keeping up with the news, Trainer has all of a sudden taken an interest in the news and tells me the female agents are being bashed because they did not respond appropriately/quick enough.

He tells me the scuttlebutt is the females failed because, instead of the females being required to meet the same standards as the male agents in the hiring process, the standards of the position had been lowered for the females.

I don’t know how true that is, but I told Trainer the females might have hesitated because they really didn’t want to touch his body with theirs, and can you blame them because he’s so icky.

Halfway through six seasons of the Peaky Blinders on Netflix, watching how Tommy Shelby is being used and abused by those involved in the British government’s espionage program, I got all conspiracy theory Tom Clancy like and said to Trainer what if ………… what if you know who was not the target. What if the event was used as a smokescreen to take someone else out because everyone would think he was the target when, in reality, he just got in the way.