It’s Nice to Be Wanted BUT ....

Another invite from Q ─ my millennial friend in the Beach area.

This time it’s for Easter Brunch on Sunday, April 21.

Knowing my food restrictions would be too challenging for me in the face of all the great dishes Q will surely make, I thanked him for the invite and declined.

Wouldn’t you know he’s made my life complicated by not taking no for an answer. “I'm happy to make something you can eat. Did you say you can eat plain vegetables and potatoes? That's really easy to make” says he.

It’s not just the food restrictions but how complicated it is to go anywhere now. First there’s booking myself into a hotel, and the having to take the Instant Pot with me and pre-made meals to heat in the pot. THEN, much as I enjoy keeping up with the goings and doings of my Gen X and Millennial friends on Facebook, we have too little in common ─ other than we use to work together, to make socializing in person interesting for me.

Q’s graciousness has me now struggling for a way to say no.

Thinking to find a good reason to work through the complications of a road trip just to socialize, I began looking around for what I could combine to make the trip worth the effort. Plenty of 5Ks in that area, but none during the time period I’d be in the area ─ evening of Friday the 19th through early morning Monday the 22nd.

Twin 1 would be thrilled if I joined her on Skid Row as she and her group fed the homeless Saturday, but I’m not sure I could handle the surrounding filth and squalor. I’m the person who won’t go to the movies because it’s dark, I don’t know what’s crawling around on the floor, and I feel icky sitting in seats that thousands of others have sat in.

Grandbaby, whom I’ve thankfully not heard from since I helped her get her car out of impound, pay tickets and get insurance, suddenly sent me a message last night saying she loves and misses me and would like me to visit “us” at “their” new apartment when next I’m in the area.

I suspect the timing of hearing from her, all of a sudden, out of the blue, not wanting anything is the Universe urging me to make the trip, attend Q’s event.

If I do, I’m not sure I’ll pop in on Grandbaby. The “us” she speaks of is her boyfriend (white, 5 years older, Mormon background). I met him Thanksgiving, got a good vibe from him and all, so I’m okay if she’s okay BUT their relationship has reached the point where both are posting about being "in love”. I’m old, hardened, awake, so the mushy gushiness makes me want to throw up in my mouth a little.

So, all in all, I don’t know but, until I make a decision, I’m considering what meals I can take that won’t be too much trouble for me through that weekend, what I can have Q cook for me that won’t be too much trouble for him, whether there is anything the GenX, Millennials and I can find to converse about since they all still work, are raising children and I’m retired, free of responsibilities, whether I should brave the drive on the Los Angeles freeways to join Twin 1 in feeding the homeless, drop by Grandbaby’s place and try not to toss my cookies at the mushy gushiness.

So much to think about, including getting back on Monday the 22^nd, in time for my noon workout with the trainer.

Decisions, decisions.

I am so happy, satisfied, content, grateful for the life and schedule I now have, that I get thrown for a loop every time I get an invite to deviate from that life/schedule.

It’s nice to be wanted, but I wish Q had taken no for an answer.

Today was my fourth session with the personal trainer, and I have to say the Pain Cave is money well spent.

After the initial session caused everything to hurt, the trainer assessed where my weaknesses lie and is working me on resistance equipment and that which will build overall stamina and strength in my weak areas ─ knees, upper body.

My most fun activity is when I balance on a huge tire, jump up and down.

My least fun activity is planking. I can’t do one single plank to save my life. I’ve always known and said I have no upper body strength, so no surprise there, but it’s hilarious when he tells me to lay face down, assume the position, then tells me to lift up. I lay there like a beached whale, flat on my belly, grunting away but unable to get off the ground.

The trainer and I have a long way to go with upper body, but his treadmill workouts have me back to 5K competition level already. He calls it “muscle memory” ─ that I’ve recovered so quickly after losing my stamina from all that time as a couch potato.

Countdown to 2019

Except for fending off an invitation to join in on feeding the homeless this past Saturday, on the streets of Skid Row in Los Angeles, the past week has been totally absolutely completely uneventful as I head into a new year.

There’s a superstition I’ve been careful not to test that what you do at the end of one year, the people you are in contact with, as you go into the next year, is a portent of that next year.

I can remember not answering the phone on New Years Eve, because I didn’t want my last contact to be the person I knew was probably making the call. A certain someone I didn’t want to be the last person I spoke with because I didn’t want that person in my life the next year.

So, the idea of standing for hours in filth and squalor, no place to sit, no bathroom, surrounded by the downtrodden ─ many who are so sick and unappreciative (hurling insults, calling you all kinds of beoches) and so dangerous that a motorcycle club has to stand guard as security while you put yourself out to help. No thanks!

I didn’t want or need that experience and the images of Skid Row in my head as 2018 ends and 2019 begins, so I opted to spend this past week being quiet, reflective, meditative, listening to the thoughts running through my head as I was being quiet, reflective, meditative.

The seniors are getting an early start (2:00 today) to their New Year’s Eve party.

Because I’m on the verge of no longer qualifying to live in this limited income community, because my income is not all that limited any longer, I don’t want to jinx myself that the superstition of no contact means not taking this community with me into 2019, so I’ll go down to see what’s shaking just so I can hopefully lock myself in for another year. However, looking at all the hugging that went on when I dropped into the party last New Year's Eve, I’ll be certain to lie and say I’m coming back when I slip away.

I can no longer cap off the year with my favorite indulgence, Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia, because of gut issues.

Fortunately, I’ve learned the gut likes champagne and I’ve got a stash of those little Martinelli’s, so I’ll spend tonight being quiet, reflective, meditative, drinking Martinelli, toasting to a Happy and Prosperous New Year to you all.

Post-Eclipse

Well, that was fun.

Setting the alarm for 7:00, so I could be up, fed, washed and ready, I started off looking for signs of the eclipse through the patio windows.

It was overcast, the sun had not yet risen high enough over the roof of the building blocking my view, so I saw nothing.

Having decided to skip the patio and view at the college, I headed out the door at 9:00 sharp in walking gear -- iPod strapped to my arm, list of Pokémon I needed to evolve while on campus, then happened to glance over and saw Apache already at the pool, eyes on the sky.

I walked over and that’s as far as I got towards heading for the college, as others began joining us and we all had so much fun watching the sky, discussing the phenomena, taking photos, posing for photos.

Even management came out of their offices and got in on the fun (I guess no one had reason to escape the pressures of work and be sick today).

Residents who don’t particularly care for each other, some who had actually stopped speaking to each other, put aside their differences and joined in on the fun.

It was a real kumbaya moment.

I ended up with over 100 photos on my cellphone, some of which I’ve been asked to forward to various individuals, a few will go into my personal scrapbook, others I’ll provide prints for the Community’s Scrapbook, which someone has started.

As most others who’d joined us had failed to prepare, there weren’t enough glasses to go around. That is, except for the woman who brought a pin hole paper viewer and another who brought something called a welder’s shield (a little black square thingy) – neither of which appeared to work as well as the glasses.

Consequently, with not enough glasses, there was a lot of sharing – except for me.

I’m not exactly a full blown germaphobe but, when you factor in I’m always washing my hands, always cleaning the unit, won’t go to the movies because I can’t sit in a movie chair behind countless others for fear I’m going to catch something, carry disinfectant wipes wherever I go, I can admit to being somewhat a germaphobe.

Consequently, when asked for my glasses, I said, “Sorry. I’m funny about things like that”. I’m sure I’ll hear about it later, but ask me if I care. There was one time I left the glasses in the chair, but put the selfie stick and something else on top as a “Do not touch” signal while I snapped a photo and, when I returned, the glasses had gone missing yet and still.

Someone had loaned them to one of the maintenance men. Fortunately, the maintenance man didn’t seem too icky poo to me, so I didn’t spaz out. But, I didn’t put the glasses on my face again, just sort of held them up so I could see through. After that, I kept the glasses in my hand and when it looked like someone was going to ask to borrow, I held them in a protective way that signaled, “Don’t even ask”.

When the eclipse reached a crescent, which was the maximum we were to see in this area, we went inside to watch the full eclipse on television.

It was fascinating.

Hopefully the kumbaya after glow extends through tomorrow’s Pizza Day.

I doubt it though.

Opportunist

Neighbor who had the traffic accident is going through a terrible time. Returning to her unit yesterday, from a few day’s recuperating at her son’s place, she caught me at my car and unloaded.

She still doesn’t know if the other driver is insured but suspects not, because the other driver has already hired an attorney and is asking for $25,000, even though both were fortunate to have no serious injuries, both just banged up. What makes the other driver seem like an opportunist, looking to score a big payday is the fact that, at the scene after the accident, the other driver thanked neighbor … “Thank you for paying off my car.”

What an odd thing to say.

I was correct about neighbor having had enough of California, wanting to head back to Nevada, because she’d put that move in motion prior to the accident; but then the Universe put up roadblocks which, to her are aggravations to fight and push through -- the last roadblock being this accident. To me, roadblocks are signs. In neighbor’s case, I think the Universe is telling her California is where she is to be for now.

One cannot fight the Universe.

Our arms are too short to box with God.

A notice went up on the board last week announcing a Card Making class scheduled for this past Monday, hosted by the deeply religious woman who got upset with me at the Egg Coloring Party because she’d hinted it not proper to attend an upcoming food event because of Lent and I said, “I’m not catholic.”

Card making is not a craft I’m interested in, so I passed. Evidently, no one else was interested because the class was cancelled due to lack of interest.

Deeply Religious took it personal. She walked into the Community Room on Pizza Tuesday, made everyone aware of how hurt she was no one signed up for her class and announced, “I’ll never do that again.”

Last Friday’s movie, Beauty and the Beast, was well received. Folks I’d never seen before came out for the viewing. When I saw the stack of movies planned for future showings – all old stuff, previously seen on television, I offered up Age of Adaline, which I picked up a few months ago, for tomorrow’s Movie Night.

I doubt anyone here has heard of it, so it’s likely to be a small crowd; but it’s quite an interesting tale about a woman who does not age, starring Blake Lively and Harrison Ford, well worth viewing.

After that, I guess it’s back to their stack of old seen on TV movies because that’s all I’ve got that isn’t vampires and werewolves --True Blood Series, Twilight Saga, Dexter. Because I have a phobia about sitting in dark theaters, in chairs where countless others have sat, and suspect there are creepy crawling things all over the place that I can't see and protect myself from, because it's dark, I don't go to movies. Instead, I wait for DVDs and the only other DVD I’m planning on purchasing this year is Wonder Woman.

I’ve got Madea Halloween to offer, but that’s something to be shown in October.

The remake of Clint Eastwood’s old movie The Beguiled is looking interesting, so maybe that will be a purchase but, with that hot Colin Farrell playing the lead, I’m thinking it might be a bit too steamy to offer for Movie Night.

Looks like we’re having a 4^th of July BBQ on Sunday, the 2nd. Not yet sure I’ll attend. I have the last of the 5Ks I’d registered for to take care of that day, plan to walk the Ontario Mills Mall, and may not be up to hanging out with the folks.

We’ll see.

Vehophobia

That is a real word, meaning fear of driving, not made up like covfefe.

Serial photo taker am I, always taking snapshots of people, places, things I see happening. Some of those snapshots make it to Facebook or the blog, some I hold onto for a while, lose interest in keeping and delete.

When returning from Starbucks on the 21^st -- the day I needed extra ump, I found myself at a standstill, blocked from returning just one stoplight from the complex because of a traffic accident. I pulled out my phone and managed to snap two quick photos before being directed by traffic control to detour.

Those photos were still in my phone when, on Friday, with a 50% off Joann’s coupon burning a hole in my pocket, I’d planned to head out to use on a block for another bib/medal board and a frame for the latest needlework project, as the project is close to complete. However, when the neighbor downstairs across the quad -- the one I refer to in the blog as Nosey, because she runs to her patio to eavesdrop on conversations and is always watching, asked if I had dollar bills for a five so she could take a cab to the market, the plan changed.

When I inquired why she was taking a cab to the market, less than a quarter mile away, she said she’d been having trouble with her legs and wasn’t sure she could make it.

No way was I going to let her take a cab for such a short distance, so off we went to the market where we ran into quite a few residents, including the woman upstairs, directly across from me -- the one that complains so much that her pseudonym in the blog is Cranky.

Nosey asked Cranky, “How are you doing … Should you be out?”, then Nosey turned to me and said, “She was in a traffic accident”.

“OMG”, says I. “Are you alright … when … where?”

“Just down the street … No, I’m not alright … my little red car was totaled”.

All of a sudden, a light bulb went off in my head … “I SAW THAT! … I was coming back from Starbucks … I had no idea it was you.”

Cranky is all stiff and sore but, from the looks of the photos, lucky to be alive.

I was stunned when Cranky, recently relocated here from Nevada asked me, “Aren’t drivers in California required to be insured?” because turns out the other driver was uninsured and is blaming her for the accident.

I have a feeling this would have been hit-and-run but for the fact the other driver’s car wasn’t flee-the-scene-able.

Learning someone I knew was involved in that accident, made me more than a little vehophobic driving to Joann’s in Redlands this morning. I was extra cautious, extra vigilant on the drive up and arrived seeing nothing frightening. On the way back however, I saw a little white car initiating a lane change, no blinkers and a big old tour bus right next to it in the lane it was attempting to move into.

I remember saying out loud, “You can’t see that big old bus right next to you?”

The bus swerved away and seemed to wobble.

Not wanting to get caught up in what I expected to be the bus losing control, hitting cars in the lane on the other side of it before toppling over, I slowed way down but the driver of the white car realized what it was doing, swerved back to its original lane, the bus managed to stabilize and all was well.

When I got off the freeway, I saw a red car wait for cross traffic to clear the intersection, then make a left turn on a red light.

It wasn’t like he was already in the intersection when the light changed.

No.

He was waiting at the stoplight, as were we all, where I could legally turn right on the red light when cross traffic cleared, but before I made my turn, I saw him smooth turn left.

Is it the heat or are people just nuts?