Didn’t See This One Coming

Color me saddened and shocked when, checking in with the folks this morning’s Pizza Tuesday, I learned the Community Manager was fired yesterday.

Two women from Corporate, one of whom I’m told is the new Regional Director, were said to have entered her office, spoke briefly with her, allowed her to gather all her things and whoosh she was gone.

She did not deserve that and we’re all very sad, except for Apache. He’s so pleased with himself that he’s dancing around, his feet barely touching the ground because he sees it as another win.

Like I’ve posted before, that’s all that matters to my buddy Apache … that he wins. And though Corporate Lawyers issued a cease and desist on his contacting Corporate, he not only continued but managed to get another resident to join him.

I’d actually seen him and this other resident walking through my quad last week, looking as though they were on patrol.

I opened the patio window and yelled down to them, “Why are you two up to? You’re walking around looking like cops.”

They laughed and said “we’re up to nothing”, but it looked strange and I’ve since learned they were looking for lease violations, taking photos of those violations and forwarding to Corporate in order to get Community Manager in trouble.

Apache and his co-snitch took photos of food being left in varying locations on the property for stray cats/birds/squirrels, which Community Manager had sent out flyers indicating it's a lease violation and attracts unwanted animals to the property. We all know who the food leaver is and I, personally, thought Community Manager should have lease violated that individual instead of sending out flyers, but she didn't and it gave Apache just the ammunition he needed. I don't know what other violations he found, but in my quad he found this.

The photo looks a little grainy because of the dusty screen door, but what you're looking at is a hideously ugly tacky black … I don't know if it's fabric or screen, that the woman directly across the quad from me put up week before last.

I wasn’t sure if she was trying to block me from seeing inside her unit when her blinds are open (as if I would), or blocking her husband from peeping me when my blinds are open (which he probably does) but, either way, I’d told myself at the time that management wasn’t going to allow it. The office has made it clear that they don’t care what you hang on the window for privacy, so long as it is white, because they want uniformity and the place not looking like a ghetto.

Evidently, Community Manager didn’t notice and correct the violation quick enough and, along with other photos Apache had sent to Corporate, he succeeded in getting manager in trouble because, according to him, tired of being bothered with complaints that should have been handled at the level of the Community Manager, Corporate took extreme measures and fired manager.

Not that Apache wanted her fired. He said that after he received the cease and desist, she stopped responding to his telephone calls, emails, and he just wanted her to pay attention and respond.

If Corporate thinks firing Community Manager is going to stop Apache, they’d better think again. If the Karma Train doesn’t turn around and run over him, I fully expect Apache to be even more embolden by this win and continue his quest to get rid of the Pit Bull, which was his initial goal. When Community Manager failed to do that, even took sides with the pit bull owner, saying Apache was harassing the guy, it so angered Apache that he became vengeful and began looking for petty violations to report.

Hopefully the replacement Community Manager isn’t going to be someone who’ll be mean to us, like the predecessor Nurse Ratched was, and I’m hoping our fired Community Manager will land on her feet and go to something better.

What a shame though. Such a nice woman.

Best Laid Plans

Set the alarm last night to get up at 6:00, so I could head for the mall and get that 5K out of the way. Inasmuch as security doesn’t want us INSIDE the mall before 7:30, the plan was to walk around the outside perimeter, before the sun heated up, and finish inside after 7:30, by which time it would be getting close to 90◦ outside.

That plan was in jeopardy when I woke up at 4:00 and couldn’t go back to sleep.

I did eventually fall back to sleep, but it was a fitful sleep that had me waking up at 8:30 -- too late to plan on a mall walk, and too drained from the weird dream.

What was weird about the dream is that it was about the Orange Idiot in Chief.

That’s right. Trump invaded my dreams, so I suppose I should call it what it was … a nightmare.

The nightmare was that he in reality is a Spy … a Russian Agent. That the plan to damage America from the inside out has been a long-range plan, starting way back with his father having been planted here in America as, what the nightmare referred to as “a sleeper”

Wikipedia tells me a “sleeper” is “a spy who is placed in a target country or organization, not to undertake an immediate mission, but rather to act as a potential asset if activated.”

At any rate, the nightmare indicated the father bred his son as a sleeper, and that the Russian meddling in the election was all about activating the son from sleeper status to active so he could do America the most damage as Orange Idiot in Chief. In the nightmare, his marriage to Russian (also an operative) Melania was explained as part of the plot.

I promise you … that’s what I was fitfully dealing with before the sound of the A/C kicking on when it reached 89◦ inside finally woke me up.

So now I’m sitting here re-planning my day to do groceries instead of the 5K, and thinking how that nightmare is as good an explanation as any for what’s going on with the Orange Idiot, whom I will henceforth refer to as "The Orange Asset".

They Had Me at Champagne

Color me relieved when I walked into a room of about 60 or so people celebrating The Baker’s Husbands 80^th Birthday this afternoon, and spotted around 20 neighbors.

In attendance were the usual suspects -- Church Lady, Big Linda, The Seer and her White Shadow, Apache, The Woman Who Wants Braids. Then there were other neighbors, who are close to The Baker and those who live in her quad.

Expecting to be one of two Blacks, I needn’t have worried about feeling out-of-place. All toll there were 6 and a half of us – four were residents, one was some friend of a friend in the family group, myself and the half being The Baker’s biracial great grandson --- who knew?

The Baker’s huge family is right out of a television sitcom. Many generations in attendance and everyone warm, friendly, the hugging close-knit type who, according to The Baker, any one of whom can be called upon when anyone in the family has a need. Those in attendance represented only a quarter of how many there really are.

Initially taking a seat one chair away from The Baker and her Shadow, I picked up bad vibes. Shadow was tense, unresponsive to my greeting. When I greeted The Seer with, “Hey! How are you?” Her reply was “I’m good, but nobody better not say nothing to me”.

I’m sure Shadow being tense, and The Seer spoiling for a fight, had nothing to do with me. More likely it was because Church Lady and Apache were in the room and, for whatever reason, the two (Seer and Shadow) have decided they don’t care for them any longer.

It’s disappointing to seen how dark and ugly The Seer has become since hooking up with Shadow, and I’ve got a sense I’ll be the next to be on her list of people she no longer cares for.

Why?

Because when she said, “I’m good, but nobody better not say nothing to me”, my reply was ... “I’ve not seen you in over two weeks, and you’re in the same place you were when I last saw you”.

Meaning – you were dark, ugly, all attitude, spoiling for a fight then, you are dark, ugly, all attitude, spoiling for a fight now.

During the event, I caught her glaring at me a couple times. She was probably trying to figure out why I’d said what I said and, once she works herself up into asking me what I meant, I’m not going to sugarcoat my response. 

When I have to speak truth, I always first ask people if they REALLY want to know what I think/see/know.

They say yes, but hate me later, so they obviously don’t really want to know, which is how I expect the follow-up conversation with The Seer will go.

Do you REALLY want to know, I’ll ask.

She’ll say Yes.

I’ll tell her how she’s changed and not in a good way.

She’ll rant rage, be offended and that will end our friendship.

I’m okay with it ending.

As for The Baker’s family, I couldn’t keep up with who was who but, if I remember correctly, she has four or five daughters. The girls are in the catering business and catered the event -- lasagna, salad, fruit. I, of course, passed on the lasagna, I can’t digest lettuce and, of the fruit, I settled on a few cherries.

THEN, later in the event, before cake, I heard the “pop” of champagne bottles being opened.

Family passed out champagne to all attendees (except the kids) in preparation for a toast to the birthday boy.

Now I know what foods my gut will not tolerate but, not being a drinker, I didn’t know if it would accept champagne and decided I didn’t care of my gut didn’t like it or not -- I was having a glass of champagne and prepared to suffer the consequences later, if there were consequences.

I got a little woozy from the alcohol, but no other side effects so far.

I even pushed the envelope when two of my neighbors said they can’t drink, and I drank theirs as well.

The room was decorated with photos of the birthday boy when he was a child with his mom, a young man driving in Nascar. Even some of the photos I myself had taken were spotted.

When I asked one of the daughters how they’d come by those photos, she said she’d asked relatives to send in any photos they had, plus she’d researched our Facebook page.

Inasmuch as some of the photos she’d plucked from Facebook were the same photos I’d pulled, I thought the Creative Memories Album might not go over all that well.

I was wrong.

The Baker and Birthday Boy both got emotional when they opened the album. Even took time out of opening gifts to go through every page, commenting, laughing. They loved it.

The family was in awe, calling it “The perfect gift”. 

Their reactions made it worth the time, expense, rush to complete.

So the party over and done with, tomorrow we return to our regularly scheduled program – needlepoint, 5ks, Pokémon Go.

Show and Tell

I took a stab yesterday afternoon at being a videographer.  Howsoever, in putting this vid together, I experienced Trumpitis -- that is saying one thing while supposedly meaning another. So, when you hear I “stole from the internet” what I meant was “appropriated/comandeered from the internet”. And of course, “talk to you later” should have been  “type to you later”.

10 Minutes I Can’t Get Back

The scrapbook project is coming together nicely and is on target for completion by Friday, but the smaller 8x5 album wasn’t cutting it without covers to protect the work, so I sacrificed a new 12x12 album I’d just purchased for which I have plenty of covers on hand.

What that all means is, if I were to factor in cost of supplies, this project is costing me big bucks.

Oh well, it is what it is.

The photos I’m working with only take up 16 pages in the 12x12, which is made to hold 44 or more pages of photos. So, the album is flat/thin, but again, it is what it is and anyway, size shouldn’t matter.

The only other two birthdays I acknowledge around here are that of The Baker herself and The Seer. I’d better check my calendar, so I can prepare in advance and don’t get caught at the last minute and have to do something extravagant – like now.

Yesterday’s basket weaving class Apache led me to believe was going to be authentic “weaving”, turned out to be a new resident – nowhere near being an American Indian, on summer break from her job as a Special Ed teacher, wanting to get rid of decorating supplies, allowing us to select a ready-made basket, and hot glue fake flowers, fake leaves, and other stuff in it at $10 a pop.

Though I was scammed into attending, I was a good sport, paid the $10, and put together an arrangement, which I have no use for and will probably toss out in today’s trash. In fact, when I went to exit the event, I purposely left my arrangement behind on a table. However, before I could make my escape, someone reminded me I’d left it. So, I had to look happy and relieved not to have left it behind and here it is not fitting into my aesthetics.

I threw it together in 10 minutes and was ready to head back to my unit. However, inasmuch as I’d been too busy to interact with the seniors for the last two weeks, I stuck around to take photos for the facebook page and catch up on the goings on.

Apache’s war with management over the pit bull has escalated. He’d been sending out certified letters to management here and at Corporate making demands for action. Corporate turned around and had the lawyers send Apache a cease and desist from “harassing” management, “harassing” corporate, “harassing” the owner of the pit bull. He’s been ordered not to talk to or send any further letters to any of the above.

Apache is a typical Trump supporter – stubborn, pig headed, can’t see the forest for the trees. Saying his contact at the county told him it’s his “right” to contact Corporate with his complaints, he intends not to let up until he gets his way.

Then Apache tells me his bank account has been hacked, resulting in his rent check bouncing.

I suggested, inasmuch as management has all our financial data in their filing cabinets and in their computers, that perhaps this is revenge – management sabotaging him in an effort to get him outta their face.

He thinks not, but again, he can’t see the forest for the trees while I see deep and far.

At any rate, here we are 19 days into the month and Apache is still waiting for the bank to cover his losses so his rent check can go through.

Photos taken, caught up in the goings on, I was back in my unit 58 minutes after the event started.

Though the event wasn’t my kinda thing, others in attendance seemed to enjoy putting together baskets.

This one was a masterpiece. The resident transformed this ...

Into this ....

Into this ...

Greedy Grabby did this one.

This was also hers.

And this one.

And this one.

Of course, her plan was, as usual, to take more than her share -- pay $10 for supplies for one basket, walk out with three more. However, the woman hosting the event, not even knowing this is Greedy Grabby's modus operandi, came over and advised she only paid $10 for one.

Greedy Grabby wasn’t wanting to pay for the others, so she left with only the one paid for.

Can’t Go Empty Handed

Yesterday was a whirlwind of activity. Today, tomorrow and Friday look to be more of the same because I’m scrambling to put together a scrapbook album by this coming Saturday.

Returning from the dentist on Monday, hanging on my door was an invitation to join The Baker and her family in celebration of her husband’s 80th birthday.

I’m flattered she wants to include me in a family event, but I’d like to decline -- as I have in the past when she thought I might be missing my own family and invited me to join hers, in their nearby home, for Thanksgiving. 

I’ll admit to just a drop of sadness that my lot in life is to travel the remainder of this road alone, but it is what it is and, in my situation, the lesser of two evils because being close knit is not preferable when you can't help your family and family doesn't appreciate you because they are asleep in the dream -- completely unillumined. At any rate, no way could I have barged in on The Baker’s family event in the past, but this time I’m given a formal invitation and location of the event is here ... on the complex ... in the Community Room.

The Community Room has often been rented out, at $200 a pop on a Saturday or Sunday, for special events by family members of residents. The families organize the food, entertainment, put up special decorations, come from everywhere to fete their elders, and the room is off limit to us residents during those times.

The last such celebrations were also birthdays. One celebration for a 94-year-old who passed on very shortly after the event, and then for a 96-year-old who also passed on shortly after the event.

That’s not a good sign.

I don’t know if it was too much excitement or whether, after family members came from far and wide, with flowers and accolades, the seniors decided this was the apex, it isn't going to get any better than this, quit while ahead, I'm out, but it’s odd seniors don’t see another year after a party.

Needless to say, I’m a little worried about The Baker’s husband, but I do plan to attend. Don’t see how I can do otherwise without offending either her or her husband, even though I’m not only apprehensive this may result in his final call, but because the event puts me in the awkward position of odd woman out -- partying in a room full of strangers.

Not only will I be a stranger, but I’ll be standing out because the only two Blacks in the room are likely to be myself and The Seer.

I’m sure The Baker's family are the kinds of people who don’t see skin color, but The Seer will have her White Shadow to sit with, I might have The Baker’s great granddaughter – the one who took such a shine to me at the Egg Coloring Party to talk to, but I’ll otherwise be odd woman out, and you really don't know what lonely, bored and out-of-place feels like until you're in a room full of people you don't know and have nothing in common with ... strangers.

A room full of strangers is just not my thing – that is unless it’s a meditation group because meditation binds us as one entity.

At any rate, The Baker instructed not to bring anything, but I can’t walk into her family’s event empty handed. So, after racking my brain as to what is appropriate to give to the guy who wants or needs nothing, it occurred to me, inasmuch as he’s so family-oriented, a photo of his family on a coffee cup would be appropriate.

Problem is, I can’t find anywhere that can put one together on such short notice.

Starbucks use to sell Tumblers one could self-collage with photos, but I’ve not seen one of those in ages. So, with no easy way out, I luckily remembered the half-sized Creative Memories album I’ve been holding onto for more years than I can remember.

It’s the perfect solution, except I don’t have protective covers ... a necessity. I can order them, but they won’t reach me until well after the event.

I then thought about using a regular old stick the photos in the provided protective covers type album.

But that's too bland. I want to do the personalization, so I’ll just tell The Baker covers will be added to the scrapbook at a later date.

In the meantime, since I’ve taken a lot of photos over the years, I’m busting my butt looking for those taken of the birthday boy, his wife, his great grandkids from multiple sources (researching flash drives, sent emails, past print orders on various sites, the community’s facebook page). I’m so engrossed in this project that I passed on checking in with the folks at yesterday’s Pizza Tuesday, because the research took from 8:00 in the morning until 1:00 in the afternoon. I did, however, locate 38 photos I can work with.

Today, I’m off to pick up the 1-hour prints I’ve ordered, with a stop by the scrapbook store for background paper and embellishments. 

I’m scrambling but I will be taking time out at 1:00 today to attend a Basket Weaving class I’d signed up for last week. I’ve always wanted to learn that craft and it’s being taught by a legit American Indian, a relative of Apache.