The Week That Was

The last five days have been a blur.

Except for Wednesday and Sunday, I have no memory of the other days.

Wednesday stands out because of what our MAGA neighbor was reported to have done.

I’d popped into Crafts on Wednesday to take photos of what the seniors were making for the FB page.

Readers might remember Hubba Hubba Awooga Silver Fox …… the guy who had been traumatized by women in the complex chasing him.

He hated it, said he was sick and tired of women knocking on his door, bringing cakes/meals; sick and tired of women always chasing him …… period.

Though there’s been no mention of Hubba Hubba Awooga in the blog since September, when he was depressed at having been in the hospital "a couple of times", suffering from diverticulitis, I’ve caught occasionally glimpses of him on the walkway from my patio window; and once, when I was on the parking lot as he was driving out of the complex, he’d waved and asked from his car’s window if things were good with me.

Other than that, there’s been no actual contact as he’s even more of a loner than I.

Insofar as I can tell, he looks no longer depressed, so maybe his health issue has been resolved.

He also looks not quite as Hubba Hubba Awooga Silver Fox, as he formerly appeared to me, because he cut his hair …… the man bun is gone, remaining silver hair looks gray.

So, anyway, I guess others still find him Hubba Hubba Awooga, because Talker said MAGA was tailing her one day, trying to engage in conversation, when Hubba Hubba Awooga Silver Fox appeared, heading for his car.

He doesn’t talk to anyone around here except myself and Talker. So, seeing Talker, he said "Hey" and moved to approach to talk to her.

Talker said MAGA was in awe, watched him approach, whispered "Do you know him …… is he new here?".

"Yes, I know him. No, he’s not new. He’s been here two years".

As Hubba Hubba Awooga got to where Talker was standing, before he could get a word out, MAGA still in awe, blurted out, "You are a good looking man".

Was she flirting?.

I don’t know.

I don’t think so.

I think it was a spontaneous statement of fact, a compliment.

However, with Hubba Hubba Awooga having been traumatized by women overly appreciative of his looks, it was the wrong thing to say.

Talker said his reaction was to stop in place, then turn and walk away without saying a word.

MAGA supposedly looked confused, whereupon Talker said to her, "You just did a no no" and explained how Hubba Hubba Awooga hated what she'd said, found it annoying.

I told Talker that should MAGA bring up Hubba Hubba Awooga again, she should tell her that even if he had not been annoyed, MAGA would not have had a chance because he wouldn’t touch a supporter of Two Dolls Donnie with a ten-foot pole.

Talker said she’s going to work that into their next conversation.

LOL. I hope she does.

Venturing outside on Sunday to do laundry, I ran into the resident that lives across the grassy knoll, upstairs, next door to Upstairs Lady.

Let’s call her the Lady with the White Dog (LWTWD).

LWTWD was good friends with my former Next Door Neighbor, even helped her box-up for the move, and was telling me how happy former Next Door Neighbor is in her new community.

No surprise, I knew where she was going, would be happy with the move.

LWTWD also said she’s visited twice already, would be interested in moving there as well, but cannot afford the $2,375 a month rent; that because former Next Door Neighbor is on the County, her portion of the rent is only $400.

WOW! $400 A MONTH AND ITS A NICER AREA, HAS A FITNESS CENTER AND ACTUAL ACTIVITIES …… THAT'S A GIFT!

LWTWD will no doubt be a frequent visitor.

I myself did not visit when former neighbor lived next door because she bored me; so, even if ever invited, no way will I travel 20 minutes to be bored.

On the Activity Calendar for today, Kesha Tuesday, is "Social: Bingo and a Picnic (Sandwiches, Chips, Beverage)".

I'll pass; but I do have to go down, deliver flyers to the Baker.

Hopefully, I can get in and out before Kesha runs up, pushes her clipboard in my face, asks me to sign.

Sentimental Journey

What a relief, I said to myself when I woke up this morning after a frustrating dream.

Of course, I didn’t know it was a dream when I was in it, spinning my wheels trying to get help, blaming myself for doing a dumb thing.

The way it started is I’d gone out for brunch with two friends. Two friends known very well to me in the dream it seems, but not people I know in my real life.

When we arrived at the restaurant’s parking lot, someone that was a friend of one of the friends I was with came out of the restaurant.

The two did a what’s up thing, were laughing, joking; and, at this point, the second person I was with seemed to have vanished from the dream …… it was then just my one friend, and his friend that had exited the restaurant, who seemed to work at the restaurant, had on a server type jacket.

The two talked about doing something that required them to get in a car, drive away.

Evidently, I myself had driven to the scene. We'd arrived at the restaurant in my white jeep, which required my friend to need to use my car.

I tossed the key fob to my friend’s friend, and the two left the parking lot.

I waited for their return, and I waited, and I waited, and I waited.

It seems I waited for hours before determining something wasn’t right.

Then I began kicking myself …… How could you be so stupid as to toss your keys to someone you don’t know? …… Why didn’t you think? …… Why would you allow someone else to drive your car? …… What about the insurance liability of letting someone else drive? yada yada yada.

I did not have my cellphone. Don’t know if I’d left in the car or what, so I went inside, asked the person at the front desk to call the police for me.

He didn’t take me seriously. Scoffed at me. Brushed me away. I didn’t like his attitude, but what could I do.

Back out on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, I approached a couple I saw that had a cellphone out, asked if I could use it.

They graciously allowed me to call the police.

Back inside the restaurant with the police, I suggested I’d been scammed, that the person at the front desk seemed to be involved, and there must be surveillance to identify the two people on the parking lot, which were my friend and my friend’s friend; that possibly the police could track the car from info gathered from the cameras. The thought of lojack came to mind …… did I have it installed?

It was at this point that I woke up.

My first sensation was relief. Thank God that was a dream, thought I as I began my morning ritual.

Details of the dream stuck with me, which is unusual because I generally forget a dream as soon as I awaken. However, as I preprepared to seize the day, the frustration I'd felt in the dream remained front and center in my thoughts … the tossing of keys to that guy.

Since the dream would not let go, I began dissecting it, asking myself "What does it mean?".

"Warning Dream", myself replied and, when I heard that, I knew exactly what the warning was about.

Just the night before, I’d booked myself into a hotel I’d never been to before (6/13- 6/15).

Looking into hotel parking, I’d learned parking at the actual hotel is Valet only at $60 a day. The other option is parking offsite … a garage across the street from the hotel.

Thinking the garage parking might not be all that safe insofar as theft of property pilfered from the trunk or glove compartment, I was planning to foot the bill for Valet Parking. That is, I was willing to pay the charges until I had that warning dream about tossing keys to a guy I did not know.

Due to the hassle of my food issues, trips are no longer in my wheelhouse and, having recently seen how a person can go to bed at night and not wake up the next morning, I no longer assume, no longer plan ahead. However, this trip is something I have to plan for and muster through because it involves LA Pride. I feel compelled to do it for my baby girl.

It’s a great way to honor the memory of Twin 1, acknowledge the work she did in contributing to the care and feeding of the homeless members of the LGBTQ+ community; and the organizers want to provide a parade car or float, with family involvement.

Emotional as I get, when Twin 1’s name comes up, I think the joyous atmosphere will make it so I can do this for her without crying myself the whole route down Hollywood Boulevard.

At any rate, I'll be bypassing Valet Parking, opting instead to take my chances with the garage across the street.

Roller Coaster

This last weekend was a roller coaster, having nothing to do with the two earthquakes we’d had Friday evening (3.4 centered 14 miles away in Redlands at 8:40 PM, and 3.4 centered three miles away in Muscoy at 11:32 PM).

The roller coaster had to do with my emotions, as this was my first Mother’s Day without Twin 1.

Twin 2, knowing the day would be difficult for me, sent not the usual text message, which I always appreciated and is how we roll, but instead had a box containing two dozen pink roses delivered to my door.

The struggle, in the hours leading up to yesterday were real, and I was afraid to step outside the unit to take the trash out, drive to the market, for fear neighbors or strangers would wish me Happy Mother’s Day, resulting in a public meltdown.

A meltdown happened anyway when the Talker sent me a Happy Mother’s Day text message.

Tone Deaf … Meaning well, but not thinking, thought I.

I started to just delete the text without responding, but instead replied with three crying emojis.

I'd like to think I did not mean to do that maliciously, to make her feel as bad about being tone deaf as I was feeling by what I was experiencing; but maybe I did intend to make her feel bad for being so stupid.

She took it well. Replied with uplifting words that left our friendship still in tack, but she’ll hopefully think twice in the future.

Make no mistake, I know I’m blessed to still have Twin 2, but I don't imagine Mother's Day will ever be completely happy again.

Later in the day, feeling I was all emotioned-out, I ventured outside to toss the trash, run by the market, where I received three/four more Happy Mother's Day greetings.

Strong Black woman that I am, I held it together until I made it back to the car before the damn broke.

Glad to have that day in my rear view, today looks to be another perfect walking weather opportunity, but I'm not ready to run into well-meaning neighbors, who haven't a clue as to the ins/out of my life, asking me, "How was your Mother's Day".

I'll do my walking on the indoor treadmill until the world moves on to something else.

New Player on the Field

"My looks are deceiving" said I to the new old guy on the complex, that I've decided to name Talker No. 2.

Last few weeks, on a daily basis when the weather's pleasant, I’ve spied an old guy that I’ve never seen before resting on the bench outside my bedroom window.

A new resident, I'd assumed.

Turns out he’s not new at all, has lived here for an entire year …… came to us from an apartment building down the street that he says the County took over and where the entire management staff "all look like serial killers".

He was sitting on the bench when I headed out for a short walk on Wednesday.

At the edge of the walkway, near that bench, I paused to give way to two residents on walkers, and joked "Are you two in a race …… Who’s winning?".

"He is", one of them said.

My being so close to the old guy on the bench, I included him by joking, "Are you not joining in the race?".

"I have a walker, but if I start using it, I’ll become dependent and have to always use it", which is a very true statement.

Now that the two on walkers had passed, before getting started on my circuit around the complex, I asked if he was new here; whereupon he launched into a conversation where he told me everything about himself, his son, his son’s wife.

He was talking so much, giving me so much rapid fire information that I couldn’t take it all in, remember details; but the cliff notes are he himself was a medical researcher. Not in the sense of being a doctor, something to do with researching the effect of certain foods on the body.

He told me to eat organic, LOL, but I mostly do.

His grandma was a full blood Cherokee, which he says people find hard to believe because he has blue eyes, and grandma would go out into the forest, find plants, make poultices and drinks which the kids hated, but fixed what was wrong over night.

His 6 foot 4 inches 250 pounds son used to play pro football, injured his ankle, became a Deputy Sheriff, recently retired from that gig and is now Manager of a trucking company. Old guy seemed pretty proud of the work his son’s wife was doing but, like I said, I couldn’t take it all in. By the time he got to the wife’s details, my brain was in overload …… could not retain any further data.

As for how Talker No. 2 has lived here for an entire year, and I’ve only recently seen him, he said that when he was living down the street, he was in pretty good health, walking 2 miles a day, suddenly began to weaken, ended up hospitalized after which black mold was discovered in his apartment — he’d been breathing in poisonous spores.

When released from the hospital, his son said no way would he let him return to that apartment building, got him a unit here, where he has been recovering.

After a year of recovering, he is just now able to get around, but can only manage around 400 steps a day.

Out of the blue, stroking the gray in his beard he asked me, "How old do you think I am?".

I really don’t know what he thought to accomplish by asking me that question.

Did he think he looked recovered/fit/youngish and wanted me to guess an age that would mirror that?

I sensed around 80 years of age, but was really reluctant to voice that, reluctant to answer the question period, because I hate when people put me on the spot with that question. I’m not a good guesser of age and have been known to unintentionally burst someone’s bubble, trash their ego, damage their sense of self.

Like the woman at the gym in San Diego many years ago, on the machine next to mine, who seemed pretty pleased with herself, had been bragging to someone on the other side about something she’d done, and suddenly turned my direction, asked "How old do you think I am".

I gave her a good look over, saw she had a banging body — well maintained, fit, youthful looking, but here’s the thing.

While living and working in San Diego, I’d noticed there was something about the weather that caused the skin on the face of its residents to look dried, aged, weathered, like 30 miles of dirt road.

I had in fact fought that happening to my skin by using baby products — oils, lotions, baby bubble wash.

So, though the woman had a fit/young looking physical body form, her face gave her age away — worn, weathered, deep spider veins around her eyes.

So, I generously/kindly (I thought) guessed "50".

The light in her aura went out, she looked stunned, like I’d slapped her and said, "50? …… I’m only 39".

I am just not the one to be asked, "How old do you think I am".

Skirting around answering Talker No. 2’s question, I replied, "I’m probably older than you".

"Oh, I highly doubt that", said he.

"My looks are deceiving …… I’m 82".

"I’m 82 as well", said he.

Turns out not only were we both born the same year, but also the same month, with me 8 days before him.

So, I was correct in responding, "I’m probably older than you", but same year, same month ?????? …… what are the odds of that. Plus, his grandma was Cherokee, while my Great Great Grandmother was full blood Oklahoma Choctaw Cherokee.

We might be related.

While typing this post, I looked over and saw something strange peeking out from the edge of the carpet near the blinds.

ROFLMAO, it was another misplaced item left by the great grands.

Since Sunday, I've laughed myself silly running across misplaced objects — one day an inspirational rock I'd picked up at a meditation retreat ages ago, alongside a glass bead from a jar their little hands had managed to extract from behind other objects back of a shelf. Another day it was a rather large red rock — a piece of the Sedona Vortex a coworker brought back for me when she visited the Vortex.

She'd asked if I'd like a souvenir from her trip to Arizona. I'd asked for a simple rock to add to my collection, and she walked in with a huge portion of the actual Vortex; which btw, is illegal. Considered theft from a federally protected site.

Yet another day, I discovered another glass bead. It had made its way to the bathroom counter; and today it was a Wooden Easter Egg I'd painted years ago in a craft session.

After these many days, I can't imagine I'll run into any further surprises, but you never know.

GG’s House

It seems the rain sticks worked after all because, after perfect weather all week, the great grands coming down on Sunday to take advantage of that perfect weather — swim in the pool, I woke up that morning to rain.

Funny thing is, I immediately googled weather to find out if rain had been predicted, and found no mention, even though I was watching it happen.

Omen, thought I. For some reason, I was not to get into the pool.

Texting granddaughter, expected to arrive 10 AM, that it was raining, the great grands swimming no longer possible, she wasn’t bothered. Said rain wouldn’t stop the toddlers, that "They love water".

It didn’t bother them not one bit and, fortunately, by the time granddaughter, the great granddaughter I never knew I had, and the toddlers arrived, the toddlers having done what I expected them to do with rearranging things in the unit, rain had slowed to drizzles, outside began drying up.

As for rearranging items, it took no time at all for curious little humans to get to those feng shui numbers, a teacup that had been on that shelf to end up on the front room’s table, along with rocks from my collection and a stuffed pony I kept in the back of the bedroom closet.

Rocks turned up in the bedroom, on and around the footpad of the cross trainer, along with other items previously positioned on a shelf, plus a pokémon ball I’d forgotten I had. They even dug up a boulder from underneath the shelf.

All in all, nowhere near what could have been done by a 3- and 4-year-old before we headed for the pool in drizzling weather, which was slowly replaced by the sun coming up and a return to that perfect weather.

The Great Grands

A few days to recover from chasing the toddlers around the pool, grabbing landscaping rocks from their hands they meant to toss into the pool, get me evicted, and I'll be fine.

Proof of Life

You will never believe who I saw walking down the walkway with Lu yesterday at 5:30 PM.

I’ll give you a hint … it was someone who was almost in tears, heart broke she’d called the relationship off for the umpteenth time, this time her calling if off because he had not the funds to satisfy her gold digging tendencies (per him), saying he can’t take the off/on, on/off, off/on any longer, vowing to never put himself in that position again.

If you guessed the person I saw looking pleased as punch, while walking along with Lu to be Dream Lover, you’d be 100% correct.

Seems he folded, a case of Please Lu, May I Have Some More.

What a simp; but, oh well, it be that way sometimes.

Today was spent child proofing the unit in advance of a visit by the Great Grandbabies tomorrow, now 3 and 4 years old — moved pins and needles away from causing harm to curious little fingers, moved the Life Alert box to higher grounds, away from buttons being pushed/generating a false alert, took a photo of my feng shui numbers focusing on fulfillment, independence, balance so that, when the numbers get moved and played with, I can remember what order to return them to.

Far far away, I put baskets filled with flash drives, small electronics and items I keep nearby for ease of use, so they wouldn’t get played with and lost; unplugged the laptop, relocated it out of sight to the bedroom, unplugged the power strip for the craft lamps and laptop that was likely to be tripped over, relocated that strip out of sight to the bedroom as well. The craft lamps I left as is, not worried they’d be knocked over in play and if they did get knocked over wouldn’t be a big deal or loss as I no longer use them.

Then, with chips already in the cupboard, I headed to the market, stocked up on turkey dogs, hot dog buns, catsup, pickle relish, so granddaughter wouldn't have to worry about bringing food for the kids.

I forgot mustard; but, oh well.

Then, seeing the doors to the Pain Cave across the street open, indicating Trainer was in the studio today, I drove over to surprise him … walked up to the door, yelled, "Namaste bitches!"

To which he responded, "Oh hell no", looking pleased to see me.

Saying all the fighters keep asking about me, but not in a have you seen Shirley lately kind of way but instead asking, "Is Shirley still alive", LOL, I left him with a proof of life selfie, which he promptly posted to Instagram with the song "Today was a Good Day" by Ice Cube; and a promise, per his request, I’d stop by more often.

Trainer later turned an old photo into this ……

And later still, same graphic but with Shaboozy's song "Last of My Kind".

That song fits me.

Trainer misses me … a lot.