Bad Teacher

Because there is a liquor store next door to the pain cave, questionable looking individuals sometimes hang around in the shopping center area. Trainer always tells me, “Be careful” when I exit.

No worries.

I always am.

Since that guy accosted me at the mailbox inside my gated community, and a guy followed me around in the market, it’s embedded in my brain to always be on guard because no place is safe.

At any rate, Trainer told me of an incident where a woman came in once yelling help because, as she exited the liquor store, a couple teenagers grabbed her purse and ran. Trainer chased the kids but, when they made it out of the shopping center and onto an asphalt road littered with glass and debris, he had to cease chasing because he had no shoes on.

There are no shoes allowed on the floor of the front room of the studio, which is where yoga and boxing bag workouts occur.

It’s all bare feet or socks only, which necessitates my entering the studio wearing workout socks and Birkenstock sandals.  Just by the door is an area for shoes. I kick off the sandals, walk across the front area in socks, enter the pain cave area in the rear, where I slip on my athletic shoe.

Leaving the pain cave, it’s off with the workout shoes, walking back across the front room in socks, slipping the sandals back on and out the door.

It’s a cultural thing based on feng shui and though it sounds like a lot of trouble, one becomes accustomed to the process. Besides, even if it is a lot of trouble, one has to respect the culture.

So, anyway, since last week’s 2nd Chance Lotto Win which, by the way, I fortunately don’t really need the money and am giving it to Twin 2, I decided to take the lottery more seriously ─ play once a moth rather than the occasional play when the pot is huge because I have other family members in need.

That liquor store next door sells lottery tickets so, when Trainer said be careful as I was leaving this morning, I said I was headed next door to get a lottery ticket.

That fascinated him, as he’d never played, and he began asking me all kinds of questions as to how it works.

“Would you like to go with me to see how it works”, I finally said.

He did indeed.

Once inside the liquor store, I showed him where the tickets were located, explained how the Super and Power indicate pick five numbers and a mega.

“What’s a mega”, asked he.

“I don’t know. It’s just another number you have to hit. But you can dispense with all this and just ask the woman at the counter for a quick pick”.

Once at the counter, Trainer began asking questions about all the scratch offs he spotted, at which point, the woman at the counter took over, explaining to Trainer how the tickets work and that people have come in and purchased $20 scratch offs, won nothing, while others purchase $1.00 tickets, win more often but don’t really win more than a few dollars or a free ticket. However, said she, a customer recently won $2,000 on a $5.00 Monopoly scratch off.

I hope I haven’t done a bad thing in teaching Trainer how to gamble ─ awakened an addiction in Trainer because he got a little too excited when he spotted the scratch offs and over the top excited in purchasing five of the one-dollar ones. 

I thought a better investment would have been one $5.00 scratch off, but he was insistent on five ones.

Hopefully, he’ll have beginner’s luck and wins something, anything, otherwise he’s gonna give me flack when I show up tomorrow.

However, on the off chance he does get lucky, I got him to commit to a ten percent finder’s fee for me.

LOL.

On another note, if anyone is interested in that bag I got for free at the Estee Lauder counter, as seen in Britney’s closet, despite the bag being labeled, “Promotional … Not for Sale”, there are not one, not two, but dozens of listings on eBay ─ some in the range of $9.00/$10.00 for the bag alone.

Upwards of $35 for the bag with the sample products.

What’s in Britney's Closet

Browsing the news, I spied an article about singer Britney Spears of Hit Me Baby One More Time fame.

The article said her fans were worried about her because, while displaying her reorganized closet on Instagram, she seemed to be speaking too fast and moving in a frenzied manner.

Curious, I followed the thread to the video.

Wasn’t impressed with the closet reorganization.

Though Britney raved about how everything was organized by color, the walk-in closet shelves looked cluttered to me. And I failed to focus on whether or not she was speaking too fast or moving in a frenzied manner, because I was distracted by a flowered bag I saw prominently displayed up front and to the side of Britney.

Hopefully, this bag isn’t something Britney got snookered into paying a couple hundred dollars for at some trendy Rodeo Boulevard boutique, because I have the same bag and got it for free.

Running low on perfume, I made a trip to the mall’s Estee Lauder counter two weeks ago. Lucky me, it was giveaway with a purchase day. I was given the bag, filled with sample cosmetics.

I liked the samples, but thought the bag ugly. All those flowers seemed old lady-ish and just not me — even though I am an old lady, so the plan was to donate the bag to the residents’ volunteer activity committee as a prize for the bingo table. Before that could happen, however, that day I'd decided to walk the two blocks, I was looking around the unit for something to lug my walking shoes, water bottle, towel, iPod, etc., to the pain cave, and realized the bag was just the right size.

A gift that turned out to be right on time. One I’ve received compliments on and have grown to like.

Who knew?

Forecast for Today

Miserable heat and I can’t comfort myself with ice cream or a nice cold soda, nor chilled melons. Not because I’m on a diet, but because these are some of the foods my digestive organs cannot process.

All I can do is drink ice cold water, take lots and lots of showers and sweat it out. I’d also better revisit my Go Bag, because this is our fire season.

Monthly Calendar indicates the seniors are having a Father’s Day Potluck at noon ─ sandwiches, chips, drinks provided by Activity Director. Seniors are to “bring your favorite dish”.

I’d try to rush back from working out in the Pain Cave to take photos for the residents’ facebook page, but it would probably be a waste of effort because there’s usually only two fathers in attendance.

So, no. I’ll show up for the next big event which, looking at the calendar, isn’t anytime soon.

Yesterday’s workout was moved to late afternoon, because Trainer was stuck in court still working on getting custody of his daughter.

I haven’t asked how it’s going because I don’t feel I should. Besides, I’ve got enough family members to tempt me to worry about their dramas. Don’t need to add anyone else to the list.

However, when he brings the matter up, I listen.

When it appears he’s using me as a sounding board and wants my 2 cents, I give it to him.

Last he spoke on this issue, he was going for full custody but, at last Thursday’s session, when he said we’d have to move yesterday’s time to later in the day, he said, “I’m trying to be fair to her mother. I don’t want to take my daughter completely away from her”.

“Whether you go for full custody or not, your daughter will still see her mom”, said I. “Besides, why be fair to someone who won’t protect your daughter?”

He nodded and had sort of a faraway look in his eyes, as though he’d was considering that statement.

Trainer is in the precarious position of having been told by daughter of what stepfather’s been doing in that home, for some time I might add, with mom refusing to believe, even going so far as to call her own daughter a liar ─ all of which has prompted Trainer seeking custody. The problem is daughter won’t let Trainer bring this up in the proceedings because daughter said she doesn’t want her mother to get in trouble, and Trainer doesn’t want to alienate daughter by going against daughter’s wishes.

This is a phenomena I can’t wrap my head around, even though I learned a few short years ago that a niece had experienced the same thing. Her mom did not protect or believe. Yet today, that niece is loyal and protective of her mom. Can’t do enough for her mom, treats her mom better than my girls treat me and will turn against anyone who criticizes her mom. Even closer to home is Twin 1. Though she’s on a giving and responsible road now, there were years and years and years when she was not (self centered, self involved, irresponsible, verbally abusive). During those years, it was up to myself and Twin 2 to see that her children didn’t become collateral damage.

Now that she's become a somewhat awakened individual, making amends, serving her community, being there for her now adult children, her kids are fiercely loyal to and protective of their mom to the point where they have at times been disrespectful to Twin 2 and myself because they felt their mom’s feelings were being hurt.

So, I understand Trainer’s reluctance to put his daughter’s mom on blast because, even though he’s trying to get daughter out of that situation, daughter will most surely turn on him if she feels his actions will harm her mom.

I understand it, have experienced it, but just don’t get it.

Winning

Trainer’s studio is less than two blocks from the complex, still I drive.

No reason.

On Thursday I felt it time to begin getting those extra steps in and walked.

Big mistake, because Trainer said it was time to “push you a little”.

He upped the pounds on the slam balls and threw in a new weight bearing leg exercise.

It was a little tough, but I handled it and walked out feeling good.

However, just a few steps outside the studio, reality began to set in. My lower limbs began to revolt ─  the sides of my legs, from hips to ankles, began to ache and my knees nearly buckled.

Walking back to the complex was a struggle, but I made it and probably will drive from hereon out.

At any rate, an Epsom salt soak worked wonders. I settled in, opened the laptop to check mail and an odd subject line caught my attention.

I hovered over the address to make sure the sender wasn’t one of those fake messages, saw it was legit, opened the email, clicked on the link, followed instructions.

Lo and behold an image popped up congratulating me on winning a nice chunk of change on a lottery 2nd chance drawing.

The most I’ve ever won in a lottery is $100. This win is the equivalent of two year’s rent, if I plan to continue living here until they throw me out ─ one year’s rent if the Universe has other plans and sends me to live in a community which is not income restricted.

Not wanting to throw my being so blessed in the face of neighbors who are struggling, I’m keeping my mouth shut. To tell even my buddy Apache would be to put my good fortune on blast, so mums the word around here.

I didn't waste time in locating a lottery office and was there the next day ─ Friday, submitting claim paperwork.

Winning is a new and fun experience for me.

Global Running Day

It’s that time again ─ first Wednesday of June, designated as Global Running Day.

Running not in my DNA and no walking activities scheduled for today in my area, I pledged on the organization’s website to do 6 Miles on the indoor bike. So that’s my contribution to celebrating the sport of running, while also complying with homework assigned by Trainer.

I’m looking forward to World Sauntering Day ─ Wednesday the 19th ─ a day set aside to remind people to slow down and enjoy life as opposed to rushing through it.

I’ll be letting the dog eat my activity homework that day, and I don’t even have a dog.

That unsuccessful search for a run/walk activity for today wasn't entirely fruitless, as I did run across and register for two up comings:

The Sunrise Stampede is within my driving radius, but Batman will require travel and an overnight stay.

No matter, I’m all over that one ─ even if it is an evening run and through the somewhat icky streets of Downtown Los Angeles.

Los Angeles has been getting a very bad rap in the news lately, because of the homeless population.

Cause and Effect.

If Los Angeles would put a halt to the burgeoning prices being charged renters for apartments, the working poor wouldn’t be forced to live in their cars and on the street.

Did you see the news article about rats invading City Hall?

The folks brought in to eradicate the rats, unsuccessfully thus far, say the invasion is a result of the mess left on the streets by the homeless encampments surrounding City Hall.

Karma.

Impose rent restrictions so folks can afford housing.

Crash Bing Bam Boom!

That’s the noise I heard outside my door shortly after returning from this morning’s workout.

I opened the door to check not because I was being nosey, but because I was concerned next door neighbor had finally fallen down the stairs. And I say finally because it’s been a long-standing fear of mine that her habit of, instead of parking her grocery cart at the bottom of the stairs, taking her packages out, walking them up the stairs into her unit, she takes the shortcut of walking backwards, dragging the loaded cart thumpity bump bump up the stairs.

I’ve described the process in previous posts as an accident waiting to happen.

Thankfully, it wasn’t she falling backwards or down the stairs but she, preparing to head out, dropping the empty cart down the stairs.

Even though my door faces hers, we don’t see each other very often, so she stopped to ask what I’ve been doing with myself. I asked how she was and then I thought to ask her thoughts on the lease increasing $49 a month.

“That doesn’t include us Section 8’s. They know better than to mess with the government”.

Color me surprised. Not because there are Section 8 residents in the complex ─ I knew that. Corporate gets a huge tax break for reserving a certain number of units for folks referred to them by the County under Section 8. 

No ... color me surprised because I had no idea SHE is a Section 8 tenant. Especially after all the hoopla, when she moved in January of 2015, about the high place she came from, what she’s accustomed to, and how depressing and demoralized she was here because we’re just simple folks, having simple activities, rather than the glitz and glamour she enjoyed as first, a military officer’s wife, travelling the world, having servants and, after leaving her husband, a career as a State Commissioner of Education.

To use her words back then, it was all “I can’t live like this”.

It took years for her to get over being depressed, demoralized, and settle in. She seems happy enough now, but she still doesn’t pop into the Community Room or involve herself in any of our activities. That is except for that one time she came out of her funk and made an attempt to assimilate. 

Long-time readers will recall she saw an opportunity to regain her former glory of being large and in charge by volunteering to take over duties as President of the Volunteer Activity Committee. But because she treated everyone else on the Committee as servants, ordered them around, she quickly riled folks and got herself impeached.

At any rate, the fact that she went through all that looking down her nose at us, while being a government-assisted resident, was a surprise.

The fact she’s now not hiding that fact is a sign of growth, but not only am I not nosey, I’m also not a busy body, so I’ll not be mentioning it to anyone else. That’s neighbor’s business.

While we’re on the subject of rent increases ... Trainer lives about 4 miles away. His rent went up $100 a month, and he doesn’t have a Starbucks on the corner.