Done and Doing

I took the scenic route to my second, and hopefully last date (except for a basic cleaning), with dentist McDreamy yesterday.

Passing the famous McDonald’s Museum, I spied something different under the golden arches.

I must have travelled through this area hundreds of times, marveled at the sight, parked to collect Pokéballs and never noticed Hamburglar before ─ and actually, McDonald’s is not a Pokéstop, the next-door Military Museum is, but the two are so close together that they act as one. 

At any rate, thinking Hamburglar was a new addition I pulled over, snapped a few photos and got back on my way.

Once I returned to the complex, I looked at old photos I’d taken of the museum and Hamburglar was there all along.

Funny that I never noticed before.

Pulling up to McDreamy’s office, I saw the abortion protestors were again out in front of Planned Parenthood. 

I guess it’s an every Friday thing.

Knowing I’d be passing either a Goodwill or Salvation Army Store, on the way back to the complex, I’d put a toaster in the car to be donated.

I’ve used it so seldom that I didn’t even realize I had a toaster until, opening the cupboard a few days ago, it too all of a sudden registered, like the Hamburglar. So that’s a crockpot, Oster steamer, wok and toaster recently donated, with another smaller crockpot I didn’t know I had, still in the box, to go.

I imagine I’d purchased the smaller with the idea of cooking oatmeal when I travelled to hotels for meditation retreats or a 5K but, inasmuch as oatmeal is a grain and grains are now on my do-not-eat list, it’s time to put it in the trunk of the car for the next time I pass a donation center.

It occurs to me that all one needs these days, to set up a household or to travel, is a coffee maker and an instant pot.

Pain Cave workout done and over early this morning, on tap for remainder of the day, after I step away from the laptop, is cleaning, dusting, reorganize the bedroom closet. Tomorrow it’s shampoo the carpet and, while the carpet is drying, set up the sewing machine and get to work on turning the needlework project, I finally finished last night, into a decorative pillow.

As I type this, Clint Eastwood’s Magnum Force is on television ─ that’s the one about the cops involved in killing criminals the courts went soft on (vigilante killings), one of my favorite Eastwood movies. But whatever happened to that guy? I know he recently made a movie that bombed at the box office, maybe two that bombed, but the Eastwood I enjoyed bombed way back when he dissed Obama with that “empty chair” routine.

I guess he's satisfied now that the country is in turmoil, the chair filled with a fat ass.

Word on the Street

The new Community Manager has failed to produce a calendar for this month, but word on the street is the seniors are celebrating Mother’s Day on the 7^th with, as you might expect, another potluck.

Bingo and Potlucks, Potlucks and Bingo, it’s monotonous, but that’s how they roll around here … exceedingly slow.

The 7^th is a Pain Cave training day for me, so I’ll arrive late and just to take pics for the residents’ facebook page.

On the other hand, if Trainer ends up having to rearrange the schedule that day, I’ll attend and bring a new item I’d seen advertised on the internet. It’s nothing I can eat but thought it looked very Mother’s Day and know the seniors will enjoy.

Also, word is the long talked about 50’s Dance Party will happen in June.

This is something that the Residents Volunteer Activity Committee has been talking about for three years.

I’ll believe it when I see it on the calendar — that is if the new guy ever gets around to putting a calendar of events out.

Thing is … I love stuff like this and normally would sew up a poodle skirt and go the whole nine yards, except … I’ve come to know the seniors as a bunch of fuddy duddies. They’ll come to a themed event like Halloween, but won’t wear a costume. They don’t want to look foolish, and only come for the food and to sit and watch the two/three of us that do wear costumes.

That’s why I always win the costume contest, but it’s no fun winning by default — because so few participate.

In fact, after last year, I promised myself that was the last time. I’ll not dress for Halloween this year and I’m thinking the 50’s Dance Party will be more of the same — the fuddy duddies won’t dress for the occasion, they won’t dance, they’ll eat, sit and watch those of us that do dress and dance.

So, I don’t know. I’ll wait to see what my gut tells me if it’s worth dressing 50’s style when I know for sure the event is scheduled.

Returning from today’s workout, I ran into Handsome Man. He was all excited about a 50’s Party, or so he said, and told me to put his number in my phone, call to remind him once the event is scheduled.

What am I … his mom?

I’m not sure what THAT was about, but I said “No. I'm not doing that”.

“But I don’t go to the Community Room to see what’s posted”, said he.

“You get the Calendar of Events and we’ve had this discussion before about you not reading it”.

At any rate, Handsome Man may or may not get a calendar with this new Community Manager, but Handsome obviously has a pipeline because he knows about the party being planned for June and, if all else fails, he’d better walk his behind to the Community Room and check the board once in a while.

Last word I heard today on the street was Apache is planning a party for his birthday on the 18^th — a BBQ, all are invited.

I don’t feel compelled to bring a gift this year — besides, he’s the guy who already has everything, but he’s a huge fan or the Orange Traitor, so I’ll look around and see if anything pops up.

May or May Not

Did you see what I did there?

I made an double entendre on today being the first of May — May Day and the fact I may or may not do what had previously been scheduled for today. That being attending the groundbreaking ceremony of the new senior complex going up by the walking trail.

The public was invited to sign up for a free ticket to attend.

I signed up and received a ticket for this morning at 10:30.

However, I woke up feeling lazy.

Which kind of surprised me as I’ve been way more active lately, not only working with the Trainer but indoor biking, outdoor walking, indoor yoga, anxious to get out more.

I guess lazy never left while I was feeling active. Lazy just went into remission only to reemerge today.

At any rate, I piddled the morning away and it is now too late to get moving, jump in the tub, put on makeup, dress and head out. 

That event didn’t seem like my kind of fun thing anyway — an interesting reason to get out, what with the local news, city officials, possibly meeting others thinking of applying for a unit in the new building, but not fun.

I’m not really thinking of applying for a unit — just keeping my eyes open as to what’s available should change be in my future.

Yesterday’s workout with Trainer was rescheduled to 9:30 this coming Saturday so, having just that morning heard on the news that the measles outbreak is worsening/spreading, I thought it would be a good idea to use the freed-up time getting a booster shot off my to-do list.

It was a pleasant drive to the medical center, and though I was in and out in record time, the nurse confused and scared me a little. I thought maybe she’d mixed me up with another patient, was about to malpractice me, when she said, “You’re here for MMR?”

I don’t speak medical, so time stood still as I looked at her as though she was talking quantum physics until I finally got out a “What?".

“MMR”, repeated she.

Time stood still yet again as I stood there, looking and feeling dumb, then said “measles booster”.

“Right. MMR”, said she.

I decided I didn’t like her bedside manner very much.

Then she said, “Roll up your sleeve”.

I'd dressed prepared for a shot. Instead of a long sleeve top, I’d put on a top that had like a half of a short sleeve, which I viewed as a cuff. So, in my thinking, there wasn’t a sleeve to roll up.

“Roll up your sleeve”, repeated she.

It was on the tip of my tongue to state the obvious, “I don’t have any sleeves”, when I realized she meant that cuff, as the shot is given high at the top of the arm towards the back.

She and I obviously were not in sync, came from different planets, but she gave an almost painless shot and I was on my way, with no after effects as far as I can tell.

My second date with the dentist (Dr. McDreamy) is Friday. The temporary cap comes out, the permanent gets installed. Once that's off my to-do list, it's on to optometry for new glasses.

Forced to be active, workout, cook my own meals/eat healthy rather than eat out, medical, dental, eyecare … it's all so much. Staying alive shouldn't entail this much work.

Early to Rise

No way did I expect to be up and out by 9:20 this Saturday morning ─ my scheduled indoor activity day.

But it happened.

Not because I wanted it to, but because it had to happen.

In a custody dispute ─ seeking full custody to remove his 12-year-0ld daughter from a horrendous situation involving her stepfather, with mom calling her a liar, Trainer asked that Thursday’s workout be moved to Friday.

“Sure, I’m flexible” said I.

Then, on Friday, as I was suiting up for the rescheduled workout, I get a message Trainer is now stuck in court, filing paperwork, can I reschedule to 9:30 this morning, Saturday.

Having had the sole responsibility of raising twin daughters, after divorcing their father, Trainer’s plight took me back to all the times my work life was turned upside down ─ one or the other twin was ill or Twin 1 was misbehaving at school (parent/teacher conference), Twin 2 was getting bullied or beat up at school (parent/principal sit-down) or there was a school event one or the other wanted me to attend, plus a myriad of other things necessitating my coming in late to work, leave early, take a vacation day, and how difficult it was for employers to understand. 

It was difficult for the twins to understand as well.

I didn't get much help and support from them. In fact, they seemed to resent my not being there for them 24/7, saying once they wished I was like the neighbor lady who was home all-day making cookies. I said I could do that as well but, with me not working, we’d go hungry and end up homeless. I also pointed out how ill-prepared for real life the neighbor lady’s children were because she so controlled their every action, whereas they (my girls) were allowed to do this that and the other.

That was my life as a single parent to girls coming into their own, not understanding their words and actions were sometimes making an already tough job even tougher and often threatened loss of that which enabled me to feed, clothe them, keep a roof over our heads. (Their father was not in the picture during those hard years. I was still in hiding from him.)

My own history making me sympathetic to Trainer’s position, knowing this is just the tip of the iceberg in what he’s about to experience in raising a daughter ─ soon to be a teenager, my reply of course was “No problem. Good luck” BUT 9:30? 

I’m generally an early riser, but I don’t get ready to deal with outside until around 10:30/11:00.

On the other hand, this morning was good practice for when I start participating in 5Ks again, as most races necessitate being on-site by 6:30, which means up, dressed, fed and on the road sometimes by 4:00 in the morning.

At any rate, Trainer is having to shuffle more than just me around. His evening after-work client was on her way out when I walked in this morning and, inasmuch as the courts are putting him through hoops to get his daughter, my schedule of Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, 11:45, is in jeopardy. Until all is said and done, days may be shifted around, hours may change and he says training might be as late as 7:00 pm.

I don’t mind.

And while we’re on the subject of the trials and tribulations of child rearing ... I was quite impressed with myself when, on Thursday, Twin 1 messaged there’s an outbreak of measles on Skid Row — where she and her group of volunteers go on weekends to provide services for the homeless. 

She was fairly certain she’d been vaccinated as a child but wanted to hear me say for sure “Yes, you’ve been vaccinated”.

I did her one better.

It took mere seconds to pull her Immunization Record from 1967, take a snapshot indicating she and her twin had been immunized at 10 months old, and message the photo to her.

I was terribly impressed with my ability to ferret out the documentation so quickly, expecting to hear back “WOW mom! This is impressive. You not only kept our original immunization record, but knew where it was and retrieved so quickly”. Instead I got “Thanks”.

Maybe it’s not such a remarkable feat after all. Maybe all mothers are like me in that I don’t know what I did with the eyeglasses I had in my hands a few seconds ago, but know where 51-year-old baby documents are located.

Twin 1 and Twin 2 went out and got booster shots the next day.

I’m thinking maybe I should do the same before someone, or their unvaccinated grandchild or great grandchild, brings measles into this complex.

Days Weeks Months Later

After 13 months, an estimated 2,972 hours, I’m just days away from completing that needlepoint project.

I’ve already purchased the poly fill, backing and trim to turn it into a decorative pillow, so there’ll be no delay and I can immediately start in on my next project ─ a gift for Twin 2 because she said, “I want something” ─ meaning she wants one of my counted cross-stitch projects in her home.

I certainly wasn’t going to part with anything I’ve already made ─ she can have them when I’m dead, so I compromised with a pattern I think she’d like.

This newest project should go a lot quicker as there are not as many moving parts.

I'm thinking maybe in time for Christmas, but it will have to be framed, rather than turned into a decorative pillow, because she has a dog that thinks everything coming into the house is his.

And while I’m on the subject of time periods. It’s taken 12 months for Corporate to find a new victim ... oops! I mean a new Community Manager, but finally they have someone in the position as of this past Monday.

This makes him our sixth Community Manager in my seven years of living here. To recap, the other five were either fired or quit.

The new guy is coming to us all the way from Texas so, after going through the hassle of relocating to California, I have a feeling he’ll tough out whatever Corporate throws at him and stick around for a while.

It may be the double-standard will come into play and, because he’s male not female, Corporate won’t ride his arse as much as they did others.

Time will tell.

Elsewhere on the complex, Nosey (the neighbor across the quad, downstairs corner unit that sits inside her unit, watches everything that goes on, gets up and rushes to her patio to eavesdrop on conversations if she hears talking going on outside) was taken to the hospital this past Sunday. She fell in her unit, broke her hip.

That’s very bad news for her, a widow with her only family being a sister, but not surprising. It’s what happens around here with those who sit all day, no exercise, never go out ─ not even to walk as far as the Community Room to attend events. I’ve watched inactivity lead neighbors to strokes and to dependency on a walker.

Doing nothing, going nowhere is an easy trap to fall into. I should know because, after the Wonder Woman 5K back in November, I all of a sudden came down with the inactivity bug and was quite content to sit on the couch day after day after day. BUT the more I sat, the worse I felt ─ weak, tired, back ached, knees hurt.

So happy am I to have become “sick and tired of being sick and tired”, nipped my inactivity in the bud and to now be pushing myself with a personal trainer.

Not sure if Nosey will be able to return and care for herself. I hope so. No one minds her being nosey. She’s nice, friendly, keeps an eye out and alerts us to anything we need to know ... and sometimes gets in our ears with that which we don’t need to know, but fun to hear. LOL.

The Day After

Already over yesterday’s horrible date with the dentist, Dr. Mc Dreamy, I was able to get caught up on my exercise homework first thing this morning, then get out, run errands ─ car wash, gas, groceries.

The price of gas was a shock.

Still, instead of saving gas by heading to the market on the corner, I drove way out-of-the-area to the market, same chain, in a nicer area because our market is redlining us yet again.

They had this big todo, a short while ago, with sprucing up the outside, the inside, had a bunch of bigwigs hanging around, then announced a Grand Reopening.

It was pretty sweet for a while ─ the nicest of fresh fruit and vegies, etc., but last week I noticed they’d backslid into eggs with a sell by in two days, fruit/vegies that looked unappealing, saving money for the corporation by dumping that which is least desirable, soon to be unsaleable, on folks that have no choice but to accept because they have no transportation out of the area.

So off I went to the market where the new senior complex is going up, next door to the fire department.

Checking on the lot behind the market, I see work has begun.

The location is ideal, with the shopping center to the left, the walking trail behind, Fire Department to the right ─ a daily dose of this going back/forth in the area …..

Eye Candy

Construction is due to be completed by Fall of 2020. So, though I love my unit, like my neighbors, the price is right, have no plans to move, a lot can happen between now and then, so we’ll see.

Tomorrow is Q’s brunch in the beach area.

After he talked me into rethinking my rsvp thanks but no, I thought it over and decided it really would have been too much trouble to head out of town this weekend. THEN, senior moment, I quickly forgot to let him know I was a definite no.

Fortunately, thoughts of the event rolled back around and I was able to let him know I’d not be making it down that way with enough lead time, I think, not to shop groceries to prepare a special meal for me.

“Aww ok. Next time!” was his reply, so I think we’re good.

Tomorrow, Easter Sunday, is my no exercise day. I'll be laying low, watching television, working on crafts.