Gentle Reminder

Since the BBQ, it’s been quiet as a tomb around here. I spotted nothing and no one out/about all weekend long. More than likely, probably because it’s been too hot to go outside.

Not ready to face another Monday this morning, I nevertheless put on my big girl panties, headed out for the Pain Cave and, crossing the parking lot, spotted Fire Rescue in front of Painted Rock Lady’s unit.

She’s had a very hard time lately — in/out of the hospital for respiratory issues, then for a broken hip.

She has a good support system of neighbors who take care of her dog when she's hospitalized; look in on her, grocery shop, whatever she needs when released from the hospital to recuperate at home.

She has a little dog, and it was the dog that caused the first hip break by pushing her out of bed.

Her recent injury is yet another hip break and, believe it or not, the cause being pushed out of bed by the little dog.

"She probably needs a bigger bed", said I when being told of this latest injury; and it was said, "She’s been told she can no longer have the dog".

I'm assuming that came from the doctor, because she can't risk another fall or trip over the dog.

I dunno. The whole story of her dog trying to unalive her, pushing her out of the bed not once, but twice, sounds sus, but stranger things have happened.

At any rate, I don’t know what befell her this morning that Fire Rescue was at her door, but since they didn’t take her out on a stretcher, I’m guessing that since she’d still recouperating from the latest hip operation, can’t get around to fall, it must have been the breathing thing, maybe a problem with her oxygen tank.

Popping into the market after this morning’s workout, I got in line behind a woman who had just the cutest little kids in her cart — four of them, all Red Haired/Gingers.

They waved at me, I waved back. One asked "What are you doing here". "Buying tomatoes", said I and asked the mom if she does TikTok, know what’s being said about Gingers.

And here I got the gentle reminder Infinite Spirit sometimes gives me to not be so friendly when out and about because not everyone is friendly not everyone has a sense of humor.

Mom was cold and rigid in her response that NO. She doesn’t TikTok and could care less what is said about Gingers because she’s heard it all.

"It’s not bad" said I, and then thought that if she’s racist, she might see it as bad, so I said, "It’s not bad, depending on how you see things".

Mom had nothing to say, but her tense uptight body spoke volumes. So, I ended the attempt at being friendly with, "Well, you’ll have to figure out what’s being said for yourself", because I didn’t dare risk infuriating her further by telling her.

Maybe she’ll be curious, ask around, look it up. If not, no sweat off my back as I walked out of the market still smiling and in a good mood; but once again kicking myself for forgetting to not be so open and friendly when out and about because people are walking around angry, miserable, humorless and want to stay that way.

It’s a shame those cute kids have such a pill for a mom.

If you don’t TikTok, have no idea of the fun trend going around about Gingers …… A woman posted that people with "Red Hair are Black …… Gingers are Black".

She gives no evidence to support this hypothesis. It was just something she came up with and it’s gone viral.

Gingers are posting cool things about now being considered a part of the Black community; Black people are welcoming Gingers to the family, inviting them to the Cookout. It’s just a silly, feel-good, inclusive thing going around, distracting from so much which is ugly and exclusive.

Like this guy's posting of "My mood when learning Gingers are Black".

And prepping the kids for what to expect at the Cookout.

The Day After

The Memorial Day BBQ went off without a hitch.

After working out that morning, I switched into the leggings I stitched up and painted with stars back in 2014.

A ton of residents packed into the patio area — some residents I knew, some I'd seen around, others I'd never seen before.

Of those I'd never seen before, some turned out to be the wives of guys I'd seen out and about, but thought were lonely old men because I'd never seen them with a female companion.

Made me think of Handmaiden's Tale ... are the wives not permitted to be out/about OR are the wives not all that social, happy to stay in their units like me.

Who knows, but an interesting discovery.

I was surprised to see Name Dropper — the resident that came to us in July and was quick to say her granddaughter is an actress, had a role with John Travolta when she was a child. I thought she'd moved to Texas.

"Not until the 30th" said she.

"Oh, so this is your Last Supper", said I, as I began scouring the scene asking her which resident she thought might be Judas.

Oddly enough, the main table was set up Last Supper style, with seats reserved for the organizers.

I should have counted to see if there were 13 seats.

At some point, I asked Talker if Trash Tosser was present.

She looked around and said "No".

"Is she likely to show up?"

"I hope not", said she.

Talker did not get her wish. Trash Tosser showed up a little later and was nothing like I’d imaged. She's attractive, personable, seemed to be getting along well.

It's not unusual to see new people come in, think they're important, are going to start making some changes, running things, beginning with complaining about neighbors, but tossing trash on a neighbor's doorstep is a new one.

When I first heard of the trash tossing incidents, I’d surmised it might be Dream Lover had hit on her and she didn’t appreciate it; after all, I see she is a nice-looking lady; but word now it might be a racial thing. She doesn’t like sheet people.

Whichever it is, it seems she’s ceased tossing. Either Manager told her she could be evicted, or she’s learned Dream Lover has a lot of friends, best not to antagonize.

It’s said, she’s approached Dream Lover, wanted to apologize but “he was 'weary' about that. Because it lasted a bit”, didn’t want to hear her apology.

Dream Lover was the grill master. Lu was present but, unlike when they were joined at the hip, she rubbing all over him, neither she nor Dream Lover paid much attention to each other.

Guess he grew weary of that as well.

That romance was over so quick and fast that I almost got whiplash from watching it start then so quickly end.

That's pretty much all the tea served at the event. Conversations seemed to be gripping about Manager, how "rude" she is, how much they "hate" her.

One guy said he went to Manager’s office and tried to talk to her, help her have better relations with residents. I forget what exactly he said he told her, but it was along the line of not looking down to and speaking down to residents, seeing others in a better light, essentially the Law of Attraction.

Her response was, "You don't know the kinds of people I deal with here".

WHOA!

A few residents complained about Manager not handling complaints and that when they do go to her office to complain, her reaction at seeing them at her door is, "WHAT NOW!".

GOOD LORD!

It’s still the Law of Attraction, only she’s got it working in reverse. She hates, so hate is coming back to her.

She doesn't talk to me like that. Probably because I keep a paper trail by communicating via email.

She probably yells, "WHAT NOW!" when she sees my name in an email, but at least I don't have her disrespecting me to my face.

I actually don’t get all the hate, because none of what residents complain of come near to how awful that mean Nurse Ratched, who managed the complex for three years, was.

That woman was a sociopath. She terrified the old folks, demonstrated jealously towards those of us who didn’t fit the mold, in her mind, of looking old enough; of those who challenged her, she lied, manipulated, called the police, did whatever to play the damsel in distress, afraid of the resident, in order to get them evicted.

The current Manager doesn’t even come close to the horror of Nurse Ratched, as I’ve repeatedly told those who complain, but whatever. Their reality is she's the worst.

Other conversations were about all the grifting and ruining of lives being done by 45/47.

I didn't get into the political conversations other than to say the only joy I get from the mess we're in is knowing those who voted for a convicted criminal not only screwed us, but screwed themselves as well.

There was lots to eat ... burgers, hot dogs, chips, dips, potato salad, pasta salads, fruit, mac and cheese, cakes, pies, etc.

Everybody was bringing something, everybody was eating what others brought which, not knowing how others live and maintain their units, I’m not too sure was wise, but not my risk.

One resident didn’t bring food. He instead brought the homeless guy who sometimes camps out front on the lawn.

The organizers were very upset because the ladies had asked the resident for help setting up and he fained his back hurt, then brought in a homeless gent who, while the ladies were making plates, serving residents, was at the food table loading up his own plate and piling it on.

Inasmuch as one of my complaints, about the Usual Suspects, is that they’ve not had my back when I’ve stood up, have wanted me to be mealymouthed like them, let bullies run all over me, like they let bullies do them, I was proud when Talker called bullshit, read the riot act to the homeless gent that, though he should not be there as he was not a resident, he was to remain seated, like everyone else, wait to be served. She then tore a new one in the resident that brought the homeless gent, saying "When we asked you to help set up, you said your back hurt, you couldn’t help, but look at all these ladies with physical issues helping, then you bring in a homeless person on top when you know homeless people are not to be brought onto the premises" yada yada yada.

My position was that if the resident wanted to feed his homeless buddy, he should have asked the ladies if he could make a plate for him, and taken it outside to him.

At any rate, Talker chopped him down to size, taught him not to think he could get all Henny Penny up in here ... not help, then take advantage of the organizing ladies, bring in others, because he’s a guy.

I was exhausted from not enough weekend, insufficient sleep from staying up way too late at night, into the early morning, watching Korean Dramas with English translations on the laptop, stayed just long enough to take 65 photos for the facebook page, went back to my unit and passed out on the couch for 3 hours.

Now for a PSA.

Whata Week

Reader’s Digest version … I fell out of lust, met the new neighbor, got some of the Lab work the doctor wanted done.

Unabridged version … Returning from this morning's workout, I ran into, introduced myself, and welcomed the new neighbor to the quad.

Learned, she’s not exactly new, but has been living on the opposite side of the complex for a year.

Management asked her to move over here, because the unit she’d been living in was designated a handicap unit …… no one who isn’t disabled should have been living there.

I didn’t know we had special units built for handicapped individuals which, I understand have "wider doorways, low cabinets, accessible bathrooms" etc., but if no one who is not handicapped should have been living there, then why did management lease the unit to her in the first place?

She says management told her she had to move because the unit had been requested by someone who is disabled, but my spidey sense is telling me management got caught when we had that last inspection.

At any rate, new neighbor said she's happy to move, because she didn’t like the low cabinets and that some of the features, she's accustomed to, were missing in order to make the unit accessible for people with disabilities.

I haven’t run into Silver Fox since the day he talked me out of being physically attracted to him, opened my eyes to what would be the side effects of ingesting yummy looking eye candy, so my jets have cooled. As Bob, put it …… "Not as pretty when it speaks." LOL.

As I was walking to check out the board in the Community Room the other day, I did see him driving, like a bat out of hell, back into the complex.

He was really gunning it, going way beyond the 10 mph speed limit, as he burned into the driveway, flew through the open gate, swooped into his parking spot.

He even drives angry, thought I, and reflected on what would have happened had someone been walking across the parking lot, as I hurriedly disappeared before he exited the car and saw me.

Everything about Silver Fox reads as angry which, in a way, is rather exciting. Made me think about how fun he must have been when younger …… a real Bad Boy, rough but fun. I also reflected on what the grapevine was saying about him before I became aware of who he was. That "He's really handsome, but sooo mean".

I can definitely see it now and ain't nobody got time for a moody, angry, aging Bad Boy.

On Thursday, I got the bloodwork portion of what the doctor wanted done, but the Lab gave me homework the doctor wanted me to submit for testing, within 1 to 2 hours after performing the homework.

It’s an impossible task, so she’ll have to be satisfied with the bloodwork which, if I’m reading correctly, indicates my Cholesterol is off the charts and may be the source of the high BP and dizzy spells.

Oh well.

Monday being Memorial Day, a 3-day weekend would be in order were I in the working world. I’m retired, but the Pain Cave workouts are like having a job with an employer that doesn’t recognize holidays, allows no days off.

Trainer will be working on Monday, so it will be a regular Monday for me; except, the bingo regulars are having a BBQ in the patio area later that afternoon.

Barring unforeseen circumstances, I plan to check it out for a bit.

Talkative, Opinionated, Political, Intense, Angry

I admit that Silver Fox’s facade had me tempted, but seeing through, like I always do, it hasn’t taken me long to make my way through the pretty boy veneer, size him up.

Not only did I run into him last Thursday, our paths also crossed yesterday, when I was heading to the Pain Cave, and today, in the Mail Center.

Silver Fox is a talkative soul.

I picked that up about him last Thursday, but then thought about something I’ve shared before here on the blog …… that it’s frustrating to try to talk to anyone around here about anything other than what goes on in the complex, because people here are remarkably uninformed, gullible, naïve, clueless.

Water reaches its own level, so maybe Silver Fox — hungry for conversation was being drawn to me subliminally, as someone he sensed isn’t clueless.

So today, he shared his feelings about social media ….. that family lives nearby so, though he has a Facebook account, he doesn’t think much of FB as a tool to connect with others and feared that if he did use FB, he’d not be able to control his hatred of No. 45/47 — post things that would make him a target. Also, that he was a Project Manager in his previous career, and is so worried about the current regime “messing with people’s money” that though he doesn’t want to go back to work, he’s getting ahead of what he sees coming by interviewing today for a Project Manager position; and also, in preparation for what he sees coming, he went to Bass Pro this morning and bought a pew pew.

So talkative, opinionated, political, intense, angry, and soon to be packing.

I’m beginning to see why he and Shirley divorced.

When I could get a word in edgewise, I defended FB saying that, because I’m a quiet person, older than he, don’t socialize much, don't care for long phone conversations,  I use FB to connect with family, friends, former coworkers and if anyone wants to communicate with me, I prefer it be through FB, Instagram, Text Message.

He seemed surprised about my age, which I told him thinking he’d think twice about being interested in me, said "You don’t look like it" and of FB he said, "Well, I guess that’s okay".

As if I needed his approval.

Though I do enjoy the eye candy Silver Fox provides and would still stop and chat with him if and when our paths cross, because I find him interesting, it’s obvious to me that he’d get on my last nerve in no time at all.

It’s not that I’d be too quiet and chill for him, it’s that he’s too talkative and intense for me, I can see him being controlling, and not be able to accept my witchcraft books, voodoo dolls, chill and nonjudgmental attitude.

He's nice to look at, but I hope his ex-wife Shirley thinks twice about going down that road again.

Weekend Update

We have a new neighbor in the quad.

As I was heading out to Friday’s workout, I saw a moving company truck parked at the end of the walkway. A little lady, whom I took to be the new neighbor, hurriedly passed me on the walkway.

She seeming so rushed, I didn’t get to greet her other than to say "hello". She responded "hello" and was gone in a flash.

Just as I was making my way around the moving van bringing her in; simultaneously, one of those self-moving vans was driving by, exited the gate, moving someone out.

It’s like a revolving door around here. A lot of newbies, very few of us long-timers still around.

My guess is us long-timers are still here because we’re in that gray area — over income for most "affordable" living situations, but not so flush that we’re willing to pay the exorbitant sums being charged elsewhere.

Long story short, we will follow the path of other long timers who did leave .... they left because they died.

So, anyway, the new neighbor doesn’t look like she’s going to provide any blog fodder. She reads as quiet, no drama.

It's nice to look out in the morning, see a window free of debris, a patio not cluttered with a dresser drawer and miscellaneous items, but real patio furniture and cute decorations.

Saturday was a milestone for me because of this ……

Any guesses as to what that is and what it signifies?

I’ll wait.

Spoiler: If you thought it signifies my reaching the bottom of that never ending needlepoint project, you would be correct.

After 4 years, an estimated 3,630 hours, I finally touched bottom and, over the weekend, I managed to fill in the corner, left of that one bottom row.

Now working my way across, rather than down, looks like I may complete this project around this time next year; then I can get rid of the frame, put an exercise bike in its place, and have time to read books again.

Over the weekend, I also managed to put in some scrapbooking time. I’m very far behind on that craft, with last year’s Disneyland visit and the Mission Inn’s Christmas Festival of Lights to be scrapped into the Places book.

I was going to fit in doing my nails up for the holiday, but between scrapbooking and the needlepoint project, I somehow managed to break both pinky fingernails down to the nub.

There will be no fancy nails until the two grow back.

I didn't get around to posting yesterday and had two Funnies for you; so, here's a late Sunday Funnies.

Hubba Hubba Awooga Silver Fox

Heading for the dumpster today, who did I run into but the famous Hubba Hubba Awooga Silver Fox.

He, like Miracle Man seemed somewhat depressed.

Greeting him with "Hey, Stranger, how’s it going?", he responded, "I’m living through it" and went on to say "It ain’t easy. I’m walking around mad and upset most of the time …… There’s something, like a vibe that’s going around and it don’t seem right to me and I don’t know if it’s, you know, everybody is kind of upset, can’t figure out what’s coming, and it ain’t a good thing you know".

I really didn’t know how to respond to all of that other than to say walking around mad and upset will make you ill, stay away from the news and have faith.

We chatted for a bit and I learned he has two ex-wives, no children by the second wife — whose name is Shirley of all things, but three kids by the first wife.

He’s been divorced from Shirley for 15 years, but has maintained contact with her the entire 15 years, due to family.

How a man speaks of his mother, ex-girlfriends, ex-wives is a tell as to what kind of person he is. Of Shirley, Silver Fox says, "She’s probably one of the best woman I’ve met in my life" and that she says he’s one of the best men which, to me, begs the question why the divorce?

I suggested, "Maybe you two will get back together", to which he responded, "The world is changing, so we’ve been talking about it (getting back together) pretty good lately".

My rule is …… never go back, but it seems the economy is driving folks into reconciliations OR at least stomaching each other for mutual benefit.

Silver Fox is really interesting to talk to. In addition to the above, I also learned he’ll be 75 in two weeks, doesn’t like to be around a lot of people (we have that in common) and that, in his words, "I should have been dead three different times".

I’d like to know more about what has happened in his life to make him say that and, if given an opportunity, I’ll see if I can get that out of him before he moves out to rejoin his ex-wife.

If you’re wondering how I managed to get most of our conversation word for word, without using my shorthand skills … ever since that weird little man approached me that day, I set my phone to record video when I leave the unit, just in case I see him again and can capture a photo, off the video, should I have further difficulties.

Thus it was, video was running when I ran into the Silver Fox. I was able to record the conversation AND, at long last, capture a photo for you.

Now keep in mind, Silver Fox’s looks may not be for everyone but, around here, and to me personally, he’s delicious eye candy with a sexy Obama aura.

I also, during the week, managed to capture a photo of the neighbor’s late 20’s something son who made a play for me — put a note on my door with his telephone number, suggesting I call him sometime.

I’m not posting that because, at a distance, he looks okay and seems a nice enough kid; but the photo shows him up close and personal. Let’s just say, at that angle, he looks rough and so far from being attractive that I’m embarrassed to say he's who thought my old arse would be interested.

In other news, Long Beach Pride is this weekend and though I could have booked a hotel and walked to the Festival, what I really enjoy is the Parade, which the logistics are such that I can’t get to.

Twin 1 is no longer living along the Parade route, Granddaughter lives too far away from the site, there’s no hotel near enough for me to walk to the site, driving to and parking anywhere near the parade is an impossible task, so I’ll be missing the fun this year.