He Looka Like a

Anniversary of the January 6th Insurrection coming up, the news was all over it this morning.

Though it still pisses me off that those homegrown terrorists were initially treated with kid gloves, as opposed to how BLM protesters would have been and were indeed handled, it’s good to know the powers that be are making a concerted effort at uncovering the identity of those involved — hold them accountable for their actions.

Seeing a video of one of the most wanted this morning, seeing how the heavily clothed (to hide their identity) individual was kinda walking on tippy toes at one point, I all of a sudden heard Ms. Swan in my head saying, He looka like a girl.

Some of you might remember Ms. Swan of bygone years — the kooky character on MadTV that, when asked to identify someone in detail, would always frustrate the interviewer with "He looka like a man".

Later on in this morning's broadcast, one of the speakers did indicate they were not certain of looking for a man or a woman, but I see female and a female who is probably sweating bullets, just waiting for the hammer to drop because she knows somebody knows who she is.

Hopefully, it’s just a matter of time before someone rats her out, and karma catches up with her, and all others involved.

After running errands yesterday, I popped into the market and overheard an interesting (disturbing?) conversation.

"I just tested positive for Covid. This is just between us for now" said the speaker into his phone.

Between you, whoever you’re leaving a message for and now ME, thought I, as I waited for him to clear the area, so I’d not be anywhere near when I grabbed a box of cornmeal.

The speaker was a young man, early 20’s, and was obviously leaving a message because there was no back-and-forth conversation. Just a quick message because, as those words were spoken, he became aware someone (me) had turned the corner, was behind him and had probably heard.

He quickly shut down the phone and took off out of the isle like The Flash.

Did he flee because he was embarrassed to have been heard OR because he knew he should NOT have been in the market?

I don’t know, but at least he was wearing a mask.

America, The Good Neighbor

Twenty years ago, I was blogging under the domain name of Black and Blue, because that’s what my life was at that time.

Due to a snafu, posts on that site disappeared. However, fortunately, I’d backed up the years 1998 - 2016 onto flash drives.

Thinking back on how I learned of the 9/11 Terror Attack, I pulled up that day, and two days after.

Here’s what I’d written:

Tuesday, September 11, 2001

While America Slept

I hardly know what to say.

I stopped at Starbucks' for coffee this morning and found the doors locked. One of the servers unlocked the door to tell me Starbucks was closed because the building had been evacuated in light of the "terrorists" attacks. When the server saw the blank look on my face, he filled me in. I then noticed the streets were kind of empty for a Tuesday, a lot of businesses were shut down, and security personnel were standing guard everywhere. As soon as I reached work, I was sent home.

I hardly know what to say.

The words that come to mind are "life changing" "consciousness raising."

For a great many of us, things will never be the same -- though all around me everything seems the same. The first thing that struck me was there were as many cars as usual parked outside the local nudie bar during the lunch hour -- which is to say the parking lots were full. Then I noticed other groups of workers sitting outside their place of employment eating lunch as usual, people shopping, sightseeing -- they won't be seeing Sea World today though .. Seaworld has been shut down, as has been the local airport. The only difference I noticed was that where people generally say to me and others, "Have a nice day" today they were saying, "Be safe." That's heavy.

Thursday, September 13, 2001

This, from a Canadian newspaper, is worth sharing.

America: The Good Neighbor.

Widespread but only partial news coverage was given recently to a remarkable editorial broadcast from Toronto by Gordon Sinclair, a Canadian television commentator. What follows is the full text of his trenchant remarks as printed in the Congressional Record:

"This Canadian thinks it is time to speak up for the Americans as the most generous and possibly the least appreciated people on all the earth. Germany, Japan and, to a lesser extent, Britain and Italy were lifted out of the debris of war by the Americans who poured in billions of dollars and forgave other billions in debts. None of these countries is today paying even the interest on its remaining debts to the United States.

When France was in danger of collapsing in 1956, it was the Americans who propped it up, and their reward was to be insulted and swindled on the streets of Paris. I was there. I saw it.

When earthquakes hit distant cities, it is the United States that hurries in to help. This spring, 59 American communities were flattened by tornadoes. Nobody helped.

The Marshall Plan and the Truman Policy pumped billions of dollars! into discouraged countries. Now newspapers in those countries are writing about the decadent, warmongering Americans. I'd like to see just one of those countries that is gloating over the erosion of the United States dollar build its own airplane. Does any other country in the world have a plane to equal the Boeing Jumbo Jet, the Lockheed Tri-Star, or the Douglas DC10? If so, why don't they fly them? Why do all the International lines except Russia fly American Planes?

Why does no other land on earth even consider putting a man or woman on the moon? You talk about Japanese technocracy, and you get radios. You talk about German technocracy, and you get automobiles. You talk about American technocracy, and you find men on the moon! not once, but several times - and safely home again.

You talk about scandals, and the Americans put theirs right in the store window for everybody to look at. Even their draft-dodgers are not pursued and hounded. They are here on our streets, and most of them, unless they are breaking Canadian laws, are getting American dollars from ma and pa at home to spend here.

When the railways of France, Germany and India were breaking down through age, it was the Americans who rebuilt them. When the Pennsylvania Railroad and the New York Central went broke, nobody loaned them an old caboose. Both are still broke.

I can name you 5000 times when the Americans raced to the help of other people in trouble. Can you name me even one time when someone else raced to the Americans in trouble? I don't think there was outside help even during the San Francisco earthquake. Our neighbors have faced it alone, and I'm one Canadian who is damned tired of hearing them get kicked around. They will come out of this thing with their flag high. And when they do, they are entitled to thumb their nose at the lands that are gloating over their present troubles. I hope Canada is not one of those."

Stand proud, America!

Tuesday, September 18, 2001

Coincidence or Not

This came in an email to the office -- original source unknown....

The date of the attack: 9/11 - 9 + 1 + 1 = 11 September 11th is the 254th day of the year: 2 + 5 + 4 = 11 

After September 11th there are 111 days left to the end of the year. 

119 is the area code to Iraq/Iran. 1 + 1 + 9 = 11 Twin Towers - standing side by side, looks like the number 11 The first plane to hit the towers was Flight 11

State of New York - The 11 State added to the Union New York City - 11 Letters 

Afghanistan - 11 Letters 

The Pentagon - 11 Letters 

Ramzi Yousef - 11 Letters (convicted of orchestrating the attack on the WTC in 1993)

Flight 11 - 92 on board - 9 + 2 = 11 

Flight 77 - 65 on board - 6 + 5 = 11

Release Day

Interesting that the release date for Bob Woodward’s book Fear is today ─ 9/11. I’m sure there’s a deliberate meaning behind that, but I don’t yet get it.

I’d initially tried to purchase Fear through Amazon ($30 marked down to $18), but it wasn’t available for shipping to a Locker and I didn’t want it shipped to home because I can’t trust the postal service, so plan for today, release day, was to drive 18 miles to Barnes and Noble in Redlands to pick up a copy.

I’m still on Omarosa’s book (Unhinged) but, at page 218 of 334 pages, it won’t be long until I get to the end.

Omarosa’s book wasn’t much of what we didn’t already know, that is until Page 195, where it is revealed that instead of being sworn in on a bible, the Orange Traitor wanted to be sworn in on his book Art of the Deal, because “It’s the greatest business book of all time ... Just think of how many copies I’d sell ─ maybe a commemorative inauguration copy”.

That’s seriously sad.

Pathetic even.

Also interesting thus far is Page 197, which speaks of a questionable “special” relationship between the Orange Traitor and a certain female pastor. Having never heard of this pastor, I grabbed my phone and asked Google to show me a picture of her. Up pops a blonde Ivanka lookalike. Ohhhhh, thought I. Of course.

So anyway, I didn’t have to drive out of the area for a copy of Fear after all because, stopping at the local Walmart (3 miles away) to pick up an online order, there it was on the shelf ($30 marked down to $20). And only three copies remaining already, so I’m all set in the reading department.

While at Walmart, I found a coffee cup to add to my collection. One that tickled my fancy a lot more than those I saw and passed on at Starbucks.

Also, while at Walmart, I was stunned to find this.

What you are looking at are Tide Pods behind lock and key.

I know loss prevention is an issue, but this locking up of laundry detergent is too much.

At any rate, I pushed the buzzer, a young associate shortly appeared to unlock the case but then, after she gave me what I wanted, she said, “I’m supposed to walk you to checkout with this”.

WTF!

I’d already had to purchased and pay for a pair of tweezers in the make-up department because, again, loss prevention. They use to put items from that department in little locked cases, which case was unlocked at checkout, but now it’s that nothing can be taken from that department without being paid for in that department.

I guess somebody must have figured out how to unlock the cases and make it out of the store without paying.

At any rate, I paid for the tweezers, the tweezers were placed in a regular Walmart shopping bag, which my logical mind said didn’t seem very loss preventative to me because who’s to say I couldn't slip other items from the store into that bag and walk out without paying.

So anyway, the young associate helping me with Tide Pods noticed what must have been a stunned look on my face that she'd have to walk me to checkout and said, “But I trust you”, which allowed me to finish my shopping without having to follow her to checkout, pay for the Tide Pods, have them put that in a bag, return to shopping for other sundry items, go back to checkout, and probably have to show multiple proof of payment receipts to the associate manning the door.

Are all Walmart’s like this, or just the one in my area?

I think my Walmart shopping days have come to an end. Next time I need Tide Pods and Tweezers, anything and everything else, I’ll either pick up at the market or order from Amazon.

Night the Computer Died, Part 2

Feeling a little better about how the so-called “advancements” in technology have inconvenienced me – making complicated that which was previously a breeze. And I definitely have to set up an appointment with optometry for new glasses, because the writing on the keys is so tiny that I have to use a magnifying glass to delineate the newly located home key from those surrounding it.

Thinking perhaps I’d made a mistake in choice of pc’s, I went online last night, read pros and cons for others I’d considered, and came to the conclusion I’m good.

Change is not something I enjoy or normally look forward to. Consequently, it does take something drastic before I submit to change, even when it’s a good change.

Seven years was a good long run with that Sony Vaio but, truth be told, there were problems indicating it probably should have been replaced some time ago.

But that’s me. As long as there’s life in an old material thing, I don’t see the necessity of replacing it with something new.

In fact, it’s kind of prophetic that, when the cable technician was here last week about that modem, he’d remarked that my computer was slow booting up “Because it’s an older model”.

“I love this old girl, and I’m going to run her until the wheels fall off” said I.

A week later, the wheels did indeed fall off.

Now I’m a crossing my fingers, knocking on wood, erasing those words because I’ve said the same thing about the car.

I’m also feeling a little better, except for those frustrating instances my fingers head to the location they’re accustomed to finding backspace, delete, page up, page down but now find something else, because the fingers are doing better at knowing where to go without my looking down, and getting there a little faster.

Lastly, I found an online photo editor that makes it easy to crop and resize photos, even easier than the online editor I was previously using (when I had to go outside the old computer's photo editor, now no longer part of the package) – the online editor whose bookmark is forever lost inside the old computer, as are bookmarks to other sources of information and items of interest.

At any rate, now that I have access to an editor, here are the two photos captured when I found myself in front of the Inland Center.

The area is a mixture of businesses on one side of the street, homes on the other.

Can you imagine hearing/seeing, what is normally seen on the news as happening in other countries, happening in one’s own front yard?

And here’s a photo of the sleek new HP.

I’d actually intended to replace the Sony Vaio with a new Sony Vaio, but learned they are no longer in production.

I'm accepting life is full of change, but can't help but wonder whatever happened to the part which said “If it ain’t broke don’t fix it” and “Don’t mess with a good thing”.

The Night the Computer Died

It all started Friday night with “your pc did not start correctly/disk error”, which led to a “diagnose your pc” to “automatic repair” to “AR could not repair”.

I could not wait for morning to come so I could head to Geek Squad for fixing.

However, when I awoke Saturday morning, practical me had taken over and, much as I loved my 7-year-old Sony Vaio, I couldn’t justify a boatload of money in repairs on an old pc, so off I go to Best Buy to purchase a new laptop.

After giving myself a headache from assimilating all the tech-speak, and realizing how far behind I’d become, i.e., keyboards are completely different now, with numbers to the right; Office separate, apart, and has to be downloaded, I settled on an HP Envy.

Leaving her with the Geeks overnight, to do everything that needed to be done so all I had to do was plug her in and go, I took possession this morning – only to realize, after driving all the way back home, getting undressed and comfortable for the day, that my wireless mouse ant stick was too big for the port.

The touch thing was driving me crazy, so I redressed and drove all the way back for a mouse.

It being a nice day for a Sunday drive, I took the scenic route back on an avenue I’d not driven before and found myself in front of the Inland Regional Center – location of that Terror Attack.

I took photos of the memorial, I also took a photo of the new pc, but find I have no picture manager.

I had a bookmark to a free online photo manager on the old pc but, taking advantage of a free consultation on the return trip, even the Geeks were unable to do anything with the old pc so I could at least capture bookmarks, recent documents, recent photos I’d not gotten around to backing up on a flash.

With the loss of Photo Manager, and the new keyboard significantly diminishing my typing speed --- it's hunt and peck, my enthusiasm for blogging, online since 1998, is waning.

Another Day, Another Flash Flood Warning

Angel tears flowed from Heaven all day yet again, and I’m getting more flash flood warnings than what seems to be necessary.

Those warnings, whether they come through the television or the cellphone, are terrifying, but not for the reason you think.

It’s because the loud buzzing sound comes so unexpectedly, out of nowhere.

I jump and blood rushes to my head every single time, causing my head to hurt for quite a long time after. I’m tempted to disable emergency notifications from my phone but anything can happen at any time, requiring evacuation or, as in the case of that terror attack we had in the area, lock your doors and stay inside, so disabling doesn’t seem the wise thing to do.

Taking advantage of the angels having a day off from their crying yesterday, I got grocery shopping off my list and then headed for the drive-thru Starbucks.

Looks like the Department of Public Works is taking precautions, since the road to the drive-thru gets flooded and drivers thinking "Oh that's not so deep" get stuck.

I wasn't gonna get there from here. So, instead of heading home to make my own from that pound, I backtracked to the walk-in because I wanted to treat myself and because the walk-in has not one, but two PokéStops.

Looking at the Facebook page of the local newspaper, I’m feeling pretty fortunate here in my unit, snug as a bug in a rug, while the chaos of flooding and power outages rage around me. And looking out the patio window, I see one of the homes on the hill is making some sort of neon statement.

I first noticed it after New Years, thought it might have something to do with a Jewish Holiday, but it doesn't look like the Star of David, it's a star ... period.

Wonder what it means?

If Looks Could Kill

De-cluttering projects all done, carpet shampooed, not registered for any 5Ks, last few days have been craving sugar, needlepoint, checking news for latest findings on the area’s terror attack.

We’ve gone from a nothing community to having the eyes of the world upon us. Even the President and Donald Trump have weighed in.

THEN, last night, I get a text message about shots being fired, shoppers running and screaming from Tyler Mall.

Turns out that incident was a smash and grab but the climate is now such that, henceforth, thoughts are going to go immediately to “terror attack” and two new words I never expected to hear used in this part of town … Shelter-in-Place, Lockdown.

I experienced my own brand of terror this morning when I went down to weigh myself on the scale in the Game Room.

After twenty-seven weeks off sugar, not even cravings, the cravings are back full force and, for the meantime, I’m no longer fighting it. So, looking for motivation to stop the madness and get back on track, I headed down to weigh myself and ran right smack dab into Nurse Ratched.

I didn’t say anything to her, she didn’t say anything to me but, instead of looking past me and through me, which is what she usually does (when her boss isn't around and she's not pretending to be friendly), she gave me a look of pure evil, hatred, a drop-dead death stare.

I’m not kidding. I’m lucky to be alive.

The seniors are heading to the casino tomorrow. Before they take off, I’ll have to check in to find out what’s going on.

Though the look was directed towards me, I’m sure it’s not about me. She’s upset about something. I’ve not seen the new Maintenance Supervisor around for a while. I assumed he was not around because of the holiday but perhaps she’s upset because he quit already.

I’ll have to check.

There’s also the two Christmas trees that need decorating.

Is she upset because she doesn’t have anyone to task with the project?

I’ll have to check.

While downstairs, I checked the sign-up sheet for the Christmas Party. Only three people have signed up.

Is she upset about that?

I’ll have to check.

At any rate, I was unable to get to the scale. There’s Christmas stuff in the way.

So maybe I'll indulge myself for a day or two more.

Life Goes on

Despite our flag being at half staff, reminding us of Wednesday’s unbelievable event, and despite social media rumors that it isn’t over yet, and despite the Inland Empire area being still the hot topic in the news, this morning felt like waking up to a normal uneventful day in the hood.

Yesterday’s dark chocolate muffin, with chocolate chips inside, hit the spot. Perking right up on a sugar and caffeine high, I moved on, from the completed bedroom closet, to de-cluttering and reorganizing the kitchen cabinets.

Today, I’m going to tackle the junk drawers.

Although I’ve strived my whole life for the minimalist decorating look, I’ve never been able to get as minimalist as I’d like, but at least now all the unnecessary stuff is gone, and what’s left are items I actually do use and need.

Across the quad, over in the corner, the Nosey Neighbor couldn’t contain her curiosity. After watching me haul bag after bag after bag of stuff down to the dumpster and to the car for donating, she stepped out onto her patio at one point and asked, “What’s going on?”

“I’m de-cluttering. Getting rid of stuff I’ve been hanging onto for no reason.”

I guess she didn’t believe me because, when granddaughter came over yesterday to pick-up Christmas decorations I was giving away, and I helped her haul the stuff down to the car, Nosey Neighbor stepped out on the porch and asked, “Are you moving?”

Roflmao!

The Community Room is once again open on weekends and I’ve been invited down for eggnog with the folks.

Yuk!

My mom used to drink that stuff. I never like the looks of it, never tasted it, never will. So on tap for me today are the junk drawers, finally getting around to shampooing the carpet, and getting back to my needlepoint project.

Kathy, over at Second Half of My Life, has been hanging ornaments to trees in what she calls Random Acts of Christmas Cheer. The photos she posts make me smile so, deciding to make someone else smile, I hung an ornament to the tree outside the complex ... the tree overhanging the bus bench.

In Search of

Yesterday was a wash. I just couldn’t.

Couldn’t what you ask.

Couldn’t anything.

Even though I wasn’t personally affected by the terror-style attack -- other than having to comply with the lock down, and even though no one I know has been personally affected, because I so empathized with those who were, the attack just sucked the life out of me.

All I did Thursday was lie down on the couch, crave chocolate.

I did make it downstairs to check mail, and caught a glimpse of the local paper’s headline.

That about sums it up.

Waking up this morning, I said “screw it!” and, after getting dressed, headed out in search of a chocolate muffin at the corner bakery.

They don’t always have it in stock. Fortunately for me, this morning they did.

Looking a Lot like Christmas

Woke up this morning feeling like yesterday was a dream, that we could not have possibly had a terrorist-style attack here in the Inland Empire -- in the building where granddaughter had her company training, down the street from my dentist, down the street from Souplantation, with ties to Redlands even – the posh side of town.

That it actually did happen just boggles the mind.

When the attacks in Paris happened, I remember clearly thinking to myself, “It’s a good thing I live in a nothing area. We don't matter. No one even knows we exist.” 

This is just a quiet unimportant out-of-the-way community. We don’t have anything spectacular, we don’t do anything spectacular. If we want spectacular, we have to drive to outlining areas. So the fact that this guy, and gal, chose this area and a social services building, is even more baffling -- except there seems to be a workplace component to their misguided actions.

Our authorities don’t have the best reputation for responding to and handling crime, so equally baffling and impressive is that they were able to call up the resources they did and track the suspects down so quickly.

The whole thing just goes to show … one never knows, location doesn’t matter, stay alert and aware.

In spite of yesterday’s tragic and baffling event, life goes on here at the complex and it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas. Holiday displays are popping up all over. 

This one is particularly interesting.

We’re all wondering what’s going on with the wife of the now out-of-a-job maintenance man because, last I talked to him, they were on a waiting list and packing up in anticipation of getting a unit elsewhere on the complex or off the premises by the 20th. However, the wife got busy on the patio, a day or two ago, and has it looking like they plan to be in their current location through the Holiday.

So who knows.

Casino Lady -- the resident who worked with Activity Director to arrange the monthly casino trip, brought someone over to look at the tree on my patio, giving the person instructions to find something similar.

Good luck with that, I told her, as the tree came from Costco in 2012; but Costco does have a tree this season that’s worth checking out. She’d better hurry though, because if this year’s tree goes the way my tree went, they’ll sell out fast and then get scalped on Ebay for hundreds more.

My tree went for $49.97 at Costco, but were quickly bought out by entrepreneurs and resold for $200 plus $76.42 shipping on Ebay.

I don't usually get involved, but it so bothered me that people were being taken advantage of in this way that I contacted both Costco and Ebay.

To Costco ... "They're reselling your $50 product for close to $300. Is this even legal, do you care?"

They didn't.

To Ebay ... "This guy is taking advantage of people, reselling a $50 tree for close to $300, is this legal, do you care?"

They didn't.

The Community Room tree is laughable, a done deal and old news; but there’s a tree in the entryway and one in the Game Room. We’re waiting to see how Nurse Ratched is gonna handle getting those two decorated.

Would be a hoot and a holler if she made the new Maintenance Supervisor do it.

He wasn’t looking too happy yesterday. Actually, he was looking positively surly and embarrassed when he saw me walk into the Community Room to view that “horrible” tree and I spotted him in the kitchen washing out three coffee carafes.

He averted his eyes and began scrubbing so hard I thought he'd break the carafes. I could almost read his mind … I’m maintenance! I’m a supervisor! And she’s tasking me with housekeeping duties.

Based on his tight jaw and obvious embarrassment, I assumed he was not only tasked with washing the carafes but also making coffee. I later asked around and, sure enough, some nice someone has been donating coffee for the Community Room and the new Maintenance Supervisor has been tasked with making the morning brew.

If he wants to keep his job, he’d better get accustomed to performing duties out of his classification. He’d also better fix his face and not let Nurse Ratched see him looking surly about it.

Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff

Day started off with my bounding out of bed and putting finishing touches on that de-cluttering the closet project before I even made the bed.

I love the closet so much now.

I keep going back to the bedroom, opening the closet door and just standing there looking … I love it so much.

No photos being posted because, though the closet looks good to me, it won’t win a House Beautiful award. It’s a little closet where us seniors must store clothes, shoes and, inasmuch as there are built in shelves for all the other essentials, is where we store items such as socks, beauty products, scarves, gloves, jewelry, electronics not used on a daily basis, etc. It’s essentially a catch-all but, whereas it was so cluttered that it took like forever to find whatever I was looking for, it now is clutter-free and organized so that I can instantly locate what I seek.

Along about 8:30, I got a call from The Seer, upset and asking for my help.

The story is that yesterday, there was to be a Christmas Arts & Crafts session after the bus presentation. I didn’t stay because I had to take care of those donations but, before I left, I saw Nurse Ratched call the Activity Director from the room.

By the way, Facebook tells me yesterday was “Giving Day”, so my timing in making the donations was perfect.

So, anyway, what The Seer tells me is that Nurse Ratched, who totally controls the Activity Director, called her out of the room and gave her instructions to dispense with whatever Arts & Crafts were to be and turn it into decorating the Christmas Tree.

Not surprising. Nurse Ratched will do ANYTHING, go to any lengths, not to lift a finger her own darn self.

So 1) The Seer was upset that Nurse Ratched manipulated the situation to where residents did the tree and 2) That the tree “Looks horrible!”

I worry about The Seer.

By far and above my favorite resident, I love that she is a fount of information, but I worry that she internalizes.

Already on six different medications for illnesses related to stress, anxiety, nerves, blood pressure, she’s a crusader – gets frustrated, incensed, wants to right every wrong. Her reactions are so extreme that the mere mention of Nurse Ratched’s name sends her into hyperspace. Catching a glimpse of Nurse Ratched causes anger to rise to where she has to, as she puts it, pray herself down.

When she called me this morning, it was in one of these states of high-anxiety because the tree “Looks horrible” and, judging by my patio decorations, she figured I’d be good at fixing the tree.

Not wanting to get in the middle of undoing what the little lady who I was told did the majority of decorating had accomplished vs The Seer who thinks it looks “horrible” vs Nurse Ratched who doesn’t care, so long as she doesn’t have to do the decorating, I suggested that if the tree looks as “horrible” as The Seer said, that she remove all the decorations, leave the tree bare and put the ball back in Nurse Ratched’s court.

The Seer didn’t want to do that, so being as upset as she was, I said I’d go down and take a look. In the meantime, I looked through photos and luckily had taken a snapshot of last year’s Community Room tree.

2014 Christmas Tree

I printed the photo out and headed down to the Community Room to see what was so “horrible”.

Community Room 2015 Version 1

Except for the haphazard beading, not near as bad as The Seer let on.

My suggestion was to “remove the beads, add last year’s ribbons, I’ll check in with you when I get back”.

Returning from errands, I checked in.

Community Room 2015 Version 2

Not the best looking decorating job I've seen, not the worse. Did not go with last year's photo, just arranged the beading better and added gift boxes.

I'm tempted to buy some ribbon, sneak in and tweak the tree to look more presentable, but no. Not planning on attending the Christmas party, it won't be me rocking around it. So if Nurse Ratched is okay with her boss seeing this, then I'm okay.

I didn’t get to spend much time in the Community Room because Nurse Ratched and her assistant rushed in all of a sudden yelling that because there were active shooters at large they’d been order to lock down the complex, and instruct residents to go back to their units and remain there.

Turned on the television when back in my unit and no joke.

This is only 10 miles from here.

I'm wondering if The Seer sees, in light of today's event at the Regional Center, the ludicrousy of making such a big deal over a Christmas Tree.

While America Slept

Today being the 14th anniversary of the terror attack, thought I'd repost that day's entry.

Tuesday, September 11, 2001

While America Slept

I hardly know what to say.

I stopped at Starbucks' for coffee this morning and found the doors locked. One of the servers unlocked the door to tell me Starbucks was closed because the building had been evacuated in light of the "terrorists" attacks. When the server saw the blank look on my face, he filled me in. I then noticed the streets were kind of empty for a Tuesday, a lot of businesses were shut down, and security personnel were standing guard everywhere. As soon as I reached work, I was sent home.

I hardly know what to say.

The words that come to mind are "life changing" "consciousness raising."

For a great many of us, things will never be the same -- though all around me everything seems the same. The first thing that struck me was there were as many cars as usual parked outside the local nudie bar during the lunch hour -- which is to say the parking lots were full. Then I noticed other groups of workers sitting outside their place of employment eating lunch as usual, people shopping, sightseeing -- they won't be seeing Sea World today though ... Seaworld has been shut down, as has been the local airport. The only difference I noticed was that where people generally say to me and others, "Have a nice day" today they were saying, "Be safe." That's heavy.

Are you a blogger? What did you post that day?