The Plot Thickens

Continuing with reorganizing the kitchen cabinet this morning, I discovered three bottles of curry powder.

I have a spice cabinet, but pick up a backup and place in the regular cabinet when a spice looks to be running low. How I came to accumulate three bottles, when I so rarely use curry, is a mystery. But I’ll drop the extra bottles off in the Community Room as I head out today to pick up another package at the locker. Hopefully, Greedy Grabby isn't there, so someone else can have a chance at a donation.

It was kinda funny that, at yesterday’s Bingo, the caller was all the way on the other side of the room, verifying someone’s winning numbers, when I took the downtime to open my phone and check the area for Pokémon.

There was a cute little fella on the table in front of my board, so I captured him.

As I captured, there was the little three whirls and a click sound, indicating the Pokémon was captured/stuck in the ball. A sound so low I figured no one sitting at my table could hear or even know what it meant or where coming from if perchance they did hear it. BUT all of a sudden, the caller stopped what she was doing, stood straight up, looked around and asked, “Is someone playing Pokémon GO?”

Of course, I admitted it, and said, “How could you hear that all the way over there?”

It was because she too is an avid player, and her ears pricked up at hearing the faint but familiar whirls click.

She thought it hysterical that one of us seniors was into the game and came over to see what I’d captured.

I’m thinking of doing research, including contacting the developer, to find out if, at age 74, I’m the oldest trainer.

Apache attended Bingo yesterday and was one of my table mates, The Baker was off shopping with her daughter, and The Seer was off somewhere with Shadow. During another break, when the caller was verifying someone’s winning numbers, Apache took advantage of that break to mention The Seer’s absence, whispering in my ear that he was concerned about The Seer’s “man”, saying he’d caught him in a number of lies.

That’s three that I know of – myself, Handsome Guy and now Apache having these misgivings.

Apache would know because he spends a lot more time around the guy than I do, because Apache, The Seer, Shadow, The Baker and a group of other residents have been barbequing together last couple weekends.

I didn’t join them, because I can’t eat what they were cooking, had a challenge to complete and was busy hunting Pokémon.

Inasmuch as The Seer is happy in her delusional state of being, I’m keeping my misgivings to myself as I take the position of an observer, standing back watching how the Universe plays this out. So I didn’t tell Apache that I and Handsome Guy also feel something is not right, and that Shadow asked me not to post his picture on our Facebook page because, as Shadow puts it,  "I've got enemies. I'd rather they don't know where I am". Instead, I just listened to what Apache had to say.

Apache knows a lot of people, has a lot of contacts, both in high and low places, and the plot thickens as Apache has discovered Shadow has not worked where he's been saying at the BBQ he worked, has not previously resided where he's been telling them he lived, among other things.

It’s very telling when guys are so disturbed by another guy that they break the Bro Code and express misgivings. It’s especially important when it’s coming as a warning, telling me to be careful, from nice high-quality guys like Apache and Handsome Guy.

They needn't worry about me, I'm wide awake; but I don't think The Seer would appreciate being awakened from her dream state. Shadow is clever in that he wines and dines The Seer, hovers so she never has any distance from him, which distance would give her time to think and ponder. He's making sure she stays asleep in the dream. In the final analysis, however, life is about choices and The Seer has made her choice to not go deep, as she usually does, but to accept at face value.

On another note, Dkzody commented on a previous post that Church Lady should ask someone at her church to take her grocery shopping. Excellent suggestion, thought I, and inasmuch as Church Lady was also sitting at my table during Bingo, I offered the suggestion that her Pastor or the Ladies Auxiliary might be a source. 

Her response was to get a pained look on her face and say, “Well, I don’t really know those people.”

Really?

You lead us to believe you’re so involved, but say you don’t really know “those people”.

Just as I suspected … not looking for solutions. She was looking to draw me in with pity.

Karma Speaks

On my schedule for today was 1) Catch up with complex goings on in the Community Room during Pizza Tuesday; 2) Reorganize kitchen cabinet; 3) Clean refrigerator 4) Run by local Starbucks to see if caught up in the boycott.

All I actually got done was No. 1.

I checked into Community Room. Learned Community Manager’s suspension ends on Monday the 23rd. She’s expected to be back in her office that day -- Just in time to host the Residents/Management meeting on the 26th, and just in time to be held accountable if the May Day re-inspection goes wrong.

Also learned it’s not looking good for our favorite veteran. Just home from a week in hospital with pneumonia, he’s learned he needs a bypass.

A sweet old gentleman, already extremely thin and poorly, I don’t want to think he might not make it, but I can’t help thinking it. He must be thinking it as well because, frail and weak as he is, he made it down to the Community Room to give his favorite ladies, of which I’m one, a string of Marika Pearls.

Having been around the block a time or two, he knew enough to also bring a few token pearl bracelets for others.

I’ve been working really hard to overcome my disgust and judgment of Greedy Grabby – the woman who has an air of entitlement, that enough is never enough, never contributes but always ALWAYS takes more than her share. 

I felt I was making progress.

I could greet her without gritting my teeth, my thoughts towards her were free of judgment and, when she saw me sitting in the Community Room alone one morning (I was meditating before people began coming in) she walked over and offered me a flower.

The old me would have declined her offering, or accepted and thrown in the trash, because it’s bad juju to have anything in one’s possession from someone one doesn't respect. One thing the old me never would have done was to accept with thanks, which I did. I even took the flower to my unit and put it in water.

The fact that it immediately died should have been my clue that her bad juju was alive and well, and that my judgment of her was actually instinct/spiritual wisdom, because as our favorite vet was treating us with long strands of pearls, she walked over, with her hand out, and he handed her a small pearl bracelet.

She had the gall to say, “No. I want the long one”.

That’s her favorite word … “I want”.

Our vet had already given me – who he was sitting with, Church Lady – whom he crushes on and another woman who he frequently sits and talks with the long strands, so when he told Greedy Grabby all that remained were the little ones, she actually went through his bag looking AND, when she couldn’t find a long strand, she kept her short strand and took the remaining other two short strands.

There was that, and then another resident made a fuss because she couldn’t jump in line ahead of others to get her pizza.

Too much ugliness. Time for me to go back to my unit.

Starting on organizing the kitchen cupboard, I pulled out a few things I can no longer consume and decided to take to the Community Room Kitchen counter for whoever might want or need. Included in that giveaway was a 1-pound bag of Starbucks Verona Grounds.

That wasn’t me protesting what happened to the two Black men at Starbucks Philadelphia … I’m so accustomed to reading, seeing, hearing, occasionally still experiencing racial profiling that I’ve accepted it as business as usual and don’t even react, but I’m glad to see others are waking up, realizing we’re not making it up that the rules are different for us, and those waking up are making a fuss about it. I don’t think, however, the CEO should be apologizing and held accountable. It’s the barista that denied bathroom privileges and called the police.

Where’s she?

Why isn’t she front and center accepting responsibility for this brouhaha and apologizing? Knowing how the police over-react, shoot Blacks first, make excuses later, she could have caused their murder .... over nothing!

At any rate, giving the grounds away wasn’t in protest, but because inasmuch as I’m doing butter coffee every morning, I no longer needed the unopened pound of Verona grounds.

Guess who grabbed the coffee off the counter as soon as I put it down.

Yep … Greedy Grabby.

Anyway, since Bingo was about to start, and it wasn't proctored by Activity Director, but a representative of an agency trying to sell us on their insurance, with some nice looking prizes available, I selected a card and sat down.

Guess who sat down next to me.

Yep … Greedy Grabby.

I tried. Honestly, I really tried to keep my seat and let her talk to me, which she surely would have, but I couldn’t do it.

I mentally spoke to the Universe, saying NO, I’d had enough for one day, moved to another table and got lucky.

I never win, but won twice and got two cool prizes.

Wire Basket and Rose Scent

I didn’t realize, until I returned to my unit, that the title of the rose scent is “Karma”.

It’s like the Universe sending me a message … “She’s a difficult case, but thank you for trying”.

Weekend Wrap-up

Found myself tracking a real live Pikachu yesterday.

Taking the scenic route, returning from picking up a package from an Amazon Locker, I’d stopped to collect Poké Balls in a Civic Center area, and there she was.

I think they’re onesie pajamas.

Since I’m recently into onesies, because we’ve had some cold nights, I might have to add one of these to my collection – and it HAS turned into a collection, as I’ve ordered two more – a sleep skull print and a fuzzy sleep cat.

They’re warm cozy comforting to sleep in, but I wouldn’t have the guts to wear one out in public, not unless it’s a Onesie Run/Walk Event, which isn’t a bad idea for an event.

While out hunting yesterday, I found the answer to the question … what do daddies do when mommies need daddies to babysit, but daddies want to participate in Pokémon GO Community Day.

That’ right. Daddies just strap the baby in and hunt with one hand.

LOL.

Wouldn’t be at all surprised if baby’s first words, instead of mama or dada, turn out to be “poke mon”.

I hit a milestone in the game yesterday, a virtual reward for visiting 2000 PokeStops. I also logged in 2.34 walking miles, which enabled me to hatch one of the three eggs the game's Professor requested as Field Research.

Would be interesting to know how many total miles I’ve logged in since getting involved in the game.

Wag the Dog

Because I played it safe and remained indoors, I made it safely through Friday the 13th.

There was that snoring from the downstairs unit being so loud that it woke me up at 2:30. I didn’t get back to sleep until close to 5:00, slept until nearly 11:00, which pretty much threw my daily routine out of whack, so I suppose that could qualify as an unfortunate incident associated with Friday the 13th.

The snoring has only awakened me once before, but I think I’m going to start keeping a log to counter attack any future complaints from Little Miss Looney (such as my TV being too loud – which it probably is), since she’s proven herself to be a complainer.

I was almost tempted to head out in the afternoon, when I saw a Pokémon I wanted was just down the street at the dog groomers, but not wanting to risk it, I passed.

Wasn’t easy, because it was a girl I’ve only seen once since I began playing, and it took an entire year for that encounter. I managed to capture her that time, and it would have been nice to get her a sister.

Jynx

Tomorrow, Sunday, is April’s Pokémon GO Community Day, 2:00 to 5:00.

That’s too late for me -- I’m a morning person, so I’m passing on whatever specials the game is offering, and opting to do my hunting today, at the University.

Apache’s birthday is coming up. That’s likely to turn into a big deal around here because he’s a favorite, management excluded.

Apache is a constant thorn in management’s side -- but only because he makes them accountable, which is what management can’t stand about him and what us residents appreciate him for.

He’s been especially protective of me – giving the office who and what for when I had to go to a hotel because former Assistant Maintenance Guy wouldn’t respond to my after-hours emergency when the smoke detector was beeping, and he volunteered to lock up the Laundry Room at 10:00 PM when my downstairs neighbor lodged complaints because she thought it was I, up and making noise at 3:30 A.M. when, in actuality, it was someone doing laundry.

At any rate, I thought I’d give him a gift. But what do you give the guy who literally has everything?

The answer popped up on the news feed yesterday when I saw an article entitled “Trump Neckties are Done and So is His Merchandizing Empire”.

Apache is a die-hard supporter of the Orange Idiot in Chief. He has the red hat, a medallion with the Orange Idiot’s face front/center, and who knows what other memorabilia, but I bet he doesn’t have this ….

Success by Trump Eau De Cologne

That article indicated that, before the Orange Idiot in Chief ran for office, he made millions by selling his name to other people’s products but that, “because of campaign-trail rhetoric on immigrants and Muslims, partners have quit” and the Orange Idiot’s goods are now being sold off at discount.

Originally selling for $60, marked down to $40, then $30, the cologne can be found for as little as $9.99 an ounce. 

Not familiar with the seller offering the $9.99 deal, I checked around and ordered from a trusted source for $17.67.

Apache’s birthday is next month, the perfume is to arrive next week, as will a birthday card.

Can’t wait to see Apache’s reaction.

He’s probably overjoyed right now with his boy’s strike on Syria. I myself am not buying it. I think the whole thing is Wag the Dog to take attention off Stormy and the Russians.

Unfortunately, it will probably work.

At any rate, if you’re looking for what I consider a gag gift or a souvenir, just in case Wag the Dog doesn’t work and impeachment is in Orange Idiot’s future, Success for Men is available at considerable discount.

Hotel Room Cooking Hacks

Heading back to my unit yesterday, from putting in my Maintenance Request and being made aware I’m in the eye of a raging storm -- which work order was once again handled promptly and with a smile by Head Maintenance Guy, I ran into The Baker. She is thankfully looking and doing much better than when I last saw her on Tuesday, headed for the doctor’s office.

At that time, something had made me say her problem might be potassium. I don’t even know what potassium is, but that’s what came to mind.

She said no, because she was taking potassium tablets and eating bananas.

I should have been a physician, because her doctor concurred -- it was potassium. She also takes water pills and evidently her water pills were flushing the potassium right out, so they’ve cut the dosage on the water pills, ordered her to stay out of the sun and do less.

We’ll see how that goes, because The Baker is a doer. She can’t sit still, enjoys doing for others and, when she’s not involved, events aren’t all that successful -- as witnessed by word on the Community Breakfast being “It didn’t turn out well, wasn’t very good”.

Someone at the breakfast was to have said, “I thought _____ (The Baker) was cooking”.

Someone else at the breakfast was to have said, “Her name isn’t on the sign-up sheet”.

Duh!

Oh well. I’d gotten the memo and went grocery shopping that morning.

On another topic, I map quested the package pickup for the upcoming Donut Run yesterday, and the news isn’t good -- it’s a 1 hour 22-minute drive from here, in heavy traffic.

There is no way I can handle that kind of exhausting drive there/back and race the following day, so I began looking at hotels in the area.

Looking at hotels led to the question of how to feed myself for two/three days, inasmuch as I can’t eat out without ending up with a painful gut reaction.

Determined to find a way to compete in this event, without exhausting myself with the package pickup process or making myself sick with meals away from home, I began researching “How to cook in hotel rooms”. I learned bacon (I’d have to use uncured) can be cooked in aluminum foil with an iron, vegetables can be steamed in the basket at top of the coffee maker, and the carafe at the bottom can serve as a vessel for poaching fish and boiling eggs. A rice cooker and crock pot were also mentioned.

Nice, but it all seems such a bother that I decided my best bet is to find an extended stay hotel with a kitchen.

I managed to find one almost within walking distance of the event site – 1.8 miles away.

It’s a hotel chain I’m not familiar with, and the Yelp reviews are all over the place, so I’m hoping for the best – bright with good chi. It’s near the Irvine Spectrum, which is like the Disneyland for grownups, so chances are good.

At any rate, after picking up the package, I can chill and rest up at the hotel.

Now to figure out how much clean-eating product to lug with me, and what to take by way of cookware, because I’m way too finicky an individual to be using the provided pots/pans.

If this works out, now that I’m down almost 30 pounds, no serious gut reactions lately, feeling healthier than I have in a long time, I may get back to participating in the out-of-the area 5K circuit; but if I end up not liking this extended stay hotel, it’ll be back to the drawing board looking for ways to cook in fancy but kitchen less hotel rooms, and fewer 5Ks.

Participants go all out for the Donut Run. I’m expecting to see inner tubes, made to look like donuts, being worn around the waist of participants, and all manner of donut wear. I wasn’t planning to do anything other than my normal black leggings, black top. However, starting to feel excited again about the event, I thought about stitching up some donut leggings. If I couldn’t find fabric with a donut print, I figured I could make fabric using paint and a donut stamp. But then I saw these ….

They were a little pricey but, when I factor in the cost of fabric, paint, stamp and the time involved to make my own, cost would have been about the same.

I also ordered headbands for the four of us, to indicate we’re competing as a team.

Today being Friday the 13^th, me just superstitious enough to not want to tempt fate, I’ll be staying indoors -- needlepoint, TV and finishing the last five miles of the King Author Straight Outta Camelot challenge.

Eye of the Storm

After learning the church ladies are still in conflict mode, and that some of the conflict has spilled over to inside their church, I began to mentally try to logic out the why of it.

It occurs to me the problem is these ladies have nothing to do. I don’t mean by the way of events, activities, but nothing to do with their life, no interests.

They don’t craft, don’t exercise – not even walk around the complex, don’t read, don’t write, don’t blog, wouldn't be caught dead wearing a costume in a themed event or playing PokemonGo. They just sit and stew, sit and watch.

Actually, that’s not 100% correct about not reading.

They read the Bible -- religiously and, as I previously pointed out, they appear to talk the talk, but not walk the walk.

The ladies are bored, and not comfortable with time on their hands and being alone, instead of taking advantage of this stage of life to be introspective, find out who they really are, why they’re here, what they should be doing, they instead seek to fill the empty hours with looking out, finding fault and, desperate for male company as a further distraction from introspection, get jealous, competitive, unwisely talk about others to people who don’t share their mindset, or who themselves enjoy mixing it up, and what they’ve said gets around and creates even more conflict.

One of the church ladies expressed to me that she’s so unhappy, depressed, that she’s thinking of moving.

That to me spells running away from the conflict (she calls it “atmosphere of evil”) she had a hand in creating, rather than facing her role and handling it.

I seriously doubt she’ll move. In fact, I think she was just trying to manipulate me by way of pity, sympathy.

One of the most awakening moments I had in life, before I came to know that we create our own reality, was when someone told me, “If you’re looking for sympathy, you’ll find it in the dictionary between sh*t and syphilis, and it’ll do you about just as much good”.

Harsh it was, but so illuminating, helpful.

Having worked through my own stuff in life, able to now see where the church lady is coming from, I didn’t bite. Not even when she tried to further manipulate me into getting involved in her life when she said her daughter couldn’t come and take her to get her groceries any longer.

She expected me to say I’d drive her to the grocery store. However, it’s not like the neighbor I did take back/forth to the grocery store, who was having problems with her legs and couldn’t walk. This woman is perfectly able to push her cart the less than quarter mile to the corner grocery store.

This particular church lady is the one with the fabulous wardrobe – diamonds, pearls, furs, Nordstrom high-end dresses. I'm assuming her thing is she's accustomed to being spoiled, taken care of, being driven rather than having to walk.

At any rate, she didn’t openly ask me to take over for her daughter in being her shuttle service, just threw it out there, expecting me to volunteer.

I didn’t, and by the way, for the record -- She's younger than I. So good luck in looking to ME as a daughter.

As for her wanting to move because of the “evil atmosphere”, I just pointed out that yes, there is some darkness around here, there's darkness everywhere, but light is the cure for darkness. That my belief is the Universe puts certain people in certain places for just such a purpose, to bring light to dark places. But that it takes humility and willingness.

She didn’t seem to get it, didn’t even seem to “hear” it – because she wants what she wants. So, not getting what she expected out of me, she’ll probably move on and try to find someone whose stupid enough to buy into what she’s trying to sell.

The phrase about “eye of the storm” and how it relates to me occurred this morning when, after heading down to the office to put in a Maintenance request, I ran into Apache. He’s still going at it with Corporate Boss Lady. Showed me copies of a stack of papers he mailed to her relative to why she is wrong in allowing the pit bull to remain on the property.

Apache refuses to fold, to let it go.

Corporate Boss Lady in turn, learning that Apache has a master key and has been locking up the Laundry Room, told him, “You don’t work here”, and had Head Maintenance Guy take the key back in retaliation.

With no one now locking up at 10:00, the do laundry at 3:30 A.M. resident is likely to return to disturbing downstairs neighbor.

Then I ran into The Seer, who tells me, the woman who walks the pit bull was so unwise as to express racist views, about her and her shadow, to a resident who is not of the same mind.

That’s so stupid.

Know your audience I say.

So, of course, what the dog walker said (and I don’t know the details, but will eventually be told) is getting around.

With all this drama swirling around me, nothing actually touching me but giving me plenty to blog about, I’m seeing my position as being in the eye of the storm, which I've heard is the safest place to be.

No wonder we’re having all these earthquakes … something is about to explode.