Monday, April 23, 2012


Thought of the day (almost every day now, it seems) - I want to get the hell outta Dodge.  Don't know where to go but feel like I'm going crazy trying to figure it all out.  I need a road trip to check things out.  I did this several years back but stayed put due to work.  Shit - that's still holding me back but I don't want to be held back anymore! I KNOW there are other places to live out there.  I've seen them.  Here are some now...        -------->

I'm ready to live the simple life.  I have learned that 'things' don't make one happy.  In fact, they just weigh you down.  I've been slowly getting rid of things.  Clothes I'll never fit into again (and are long out of style), books I've read or never will, old love letters from people who are no longer madly crazy in love with me, knick knacks and tchotchkes (dust collectors),  etc.  You get the picture.  When it's time for me to go, I want to travel light.  I'll get rid of furniture, too.   But I like my bed, so maybe I'll keep that.
I need to work - but maybe I can get by on a less stressful, more enjoyable job.  I need to work on a plan.  I welcome suggestions and job offers.

Stepping into the Here and Now

I am so excited!  I bought a laptop today.  I am very much looking forward to receiving it so I can clear out this old, but trusty, desk top computer and the desk it sits upon from my cramped little matchbox of an apartment.  Space is definitely at a premium here.  Yes!!  I will be able to do so much more away from home now, too.  No one really understands because most people seem to be quite far ahead of me, technologically speaking.  Well, that's because they are.  I guess I can try to catch up - but all I really want to do is write and manage/organize the photos I love to take.  I guess I can check emails and Facebook also - but I really am trying to not spend as much time on FB.  No, really.  I do like playing 'Words with Friends' though.  I've always liked Scrabble, and I guess that's because I like words.  Makes sense, huh?   Well, I'm super excited.  And now my nosy neighbors won't know whether or not I'm on the computer when they walk by my window unable to control their urge to look into this space of divine creativity.  Silly people.  

Oh, and there was an earthquake today.  3.9 centered near San Juan Capistrano.  Just a hard jolt - not a roller.  Thought I'd let you know.

Saturday, April 21, 2012


Oh mother of God!  I found what I believe to be one of these baby German Cockroaches on my bathroom counter about 11 minutes ago.  I say "believe" because I moved to smash it with a quickness reserved only for the immediate annihilation of these hated bugs that I can't swear that's what it was, and I wasn't wearing my glasses either.  I can only guess with some small amount of accuracy that it was one of these horrid creatures.  I am not afraid of too many things, but I am terrified, to the point of paralyzing paranoia, of cockroaches!  I have even learned, somehow, to deal with the occasional spider.  But spiders generally don't run in packs so I know if I find one, and dispose of it, there isn't likely to be another lurking nearby.  Baby cockroaches, on the other hand, are not sole wanderers.  Where there is one, there are bound to be hundreds more.  And where there are babies, there are moms and dads!!  Holy crap!  I will not sleep easily tonight.  Or for many nights to come.  I've already unloaded nearly a full can of Raid! in my tiny bathroom.  I've checked everywhere, but am unable to find an opening (or, thankfully, any more roaches).  I've sprayed enough bug spray to kill a Capuchin monkey, but I would be less afraid of that!  And I really do not like monkeys!!  Especially ones that wear clothes.  My jaw might drop in wonder, but I would not get the "screaming terrors" either.

Now I know - I did hear my neighbors (of the white-trash tattooed variety) correctly the other evening when there were a few outbursts of, "Shit!  A cockroach!!! "  And, "Fuck!  There's another one!!"  I was truly hoping they were just seriously high and perhaps hallucinating. 

I've lived here for over four years now and I've seen a silverfish here and there.  No, I don't like those either.  They're prehistoric grossness in a silver powdery fish-shaped package - but I'm not afraid of them.  I don't get the shakes when I see one.  And I don't worry that they'll overtake my small apartment.  And I don't resort to turning on a light in a darkened room and doing a full visual sweep before proceeding into it with great caution.  But I have never seen a cockroach here.  NEVER!!!    

For now, I'll close the door to that little room and pray I see no more when I open it, with great care, in the morning.  I also hope that I was wrong and this was some lone traveler of another species completely and thoroughly unrelated to the dreadful cockroach.  And maybe the only roaches around here are those being smoked by the neighbors.  Oh God...I can only hope.

Next call, should I spy another, is to the landlord...he loves to hear from me.

Photo courtesy of '' 

Speedo-Man and the Community Pool

Feels like summer out there.  I spent some quiet time this morning out by the pool (after my morning cup of coffee and before tackling my errands).  I've learned early on living here that if you get out to the pool before 11:00AM (preferably 10:00AM), you can enjoy the pool in utter solitude for a good hour or so - just the way I like it.  The younger adults are too hungover to be out that early.  The sun would probably scorch their alcohol-infused skin.  The little kids are still inside eating cereal and watching cartoons.  And the older folks rarely come out there at all, with the exception of occasional appearances by Speedo-Man.

Lucky me - I often have the pool all to myself. 

It's one of my guilty pleasures.  Always has been.  Just laying by the pool on a nice warm day and reading a good book or perusing, mindlessly, the most current "US Weekly."  Lord knows I don't want to be behind on any Kardashian-related "news."  Kim wants to run for mayor of Glendale.  It's  part of her 5-year plan, I guess.  Well, good for her - at least she has one.  And Tori Spelling is pregnant again.  Riveting.     

Speedo-Man's daughter is in town visiting so I can relax poolside without wondering if/where he is lurking or if/when he will appear.  There's just something wrong about a man in his early '70s going out in public in nothing more than a Speedo.  Or any man, for that matter.  I don't care what kind of shape you're in, no one wants to see it.  I mean, it's not like he's walking up to the liquor store like that.  Or jogging to Trader Joe's.  But still...he's going past my window...and often.  More than once, while I've been dozing by the pool, thinking I was all alone, I open my eyes only to realize he's plopped his Speedo-clad body onto the lounge chair next to mine...sans towel.  Ew!  That's akin to using gym equipment and not wiping it down afterward.  In any case, when he does that, I find it's my cue to exit stage left...or right...or whichever is the quickest route out of the pool area so I can go home and shower.  His ogling makes me feel so dirty.  After all, to him I AM a younger woman. 

But today was glorious.  No one around.  Got my tan on.  Yes, I do slather on the sunscreen these days and don't spend nearly as much time baking out there as I did in my younger days.  I just enjoy the warmth and get my fill of Vitamin D.  I'm aware now of the damage that mean old sun can do.  But it feels so good out there, I doubt I'll ever stop completely.

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

JoeJoe the Tattoo-faced Boy

The beauty of living in Melrose Place is the wonderful array of colorful people who live here.  Yes, I'm being sarcastic.  I find most of these people insanely annoying and useless.  One in particular, a newer resident, is a young'ish man-boy I refer to as "JoeJoe the Tattoo-faced Boy."   He's 38 for cryin' out loud.    He and his girlfriend moved in about six months ago.  Oh, what a joyous day that was.  I thought, when the day after he moved in he was arrested and actually incarcerated, that things were already starting to look up.  Well, nothing lasts forever.  Three months after he was locked up, he was released and he returned to the only home he had.  Even though his prior length of residency here was less than 48 hours.  His young girlfriend, bless her little heart, allowed him to move back in with her.  What a sweetie.  Yes, more sarcasm.  He's an unemployed self-proclaimed tattoo "artist" who is tattooed all over - including his face and neck (ouch).  He's a criminal and a junkie.  Yes, that does mean he uses/abuses heroin.  He refers to himself as a "recovering addict."  Ummm, okay.  Sure.  If that makes him feel better and he thinks others are buying it.

Don't ask how I know things about him.  It's irrelevant and I won't tell you. 

Normally, I'm at work during the weekdays.  Well, I happened to be home for part of a mid-week day.  Boy, the things I miss.  I got to witness a sampling of the fights that occur between JoeJoe (of course that's not his real name...although it may be close to it) and his girlfriend.  Here's a little bit of what I got to witness (warning...foul language follows): 

She yells at him for getting loaded, he denies it, she yells at him to get out, he jumps on his little bike, tucks his skateboard under his arm, and pedals away while yelling "FUCK YOU!!!"  She then chases after him begging him not to go.  "Please don't leave.  I love you, JoeJoe!"  He comes back, secretly happy that he has a place to keep his bicycle and skateboard so he doesn't have to stash them under a random bush where they will be stolen at some point down the road by a savvy hobo) and she cries and sobs about how sorry she is, secretly thinking that she has no self confidence whatsoever and this is all she deserves but still won this one.  And on and on...

In the meantime, I'm secretly thinking that he is getting loaded again and will soon get re-arrested, violating the conditions of his parole, and he will get locked up for a long period of time.  At which point, he will be evicted from Melrose Place (the manager said that will happen if there are any more problems over there) and I won't have to listen to anymore of their heinous, foul, repetitive arguments.

Also, I'm thinking that maybe the girlfriend will then have time to find some of that lost self confidence, pull herself together, find some inner strength and cut the loser from her life.  Maybe she can learn to put some of that kind-heartedness where it will be truly beneficial to someone who really appreciates her sweet soul.

Okay...I'm hoping for this really hard.  Maybe even out loud.

Saturday, April 14, 2012


The San Diego Zoo's Wild Animal Park changed it's name to the San Diego Zoo Safari Park.  I still call it the Wild Animal Park.  I mean, why change a good thing.  And what is the point of changing it after a zillion years of it being called the Wild Animal Park?  It had a safari and wild animals before.  It has a safari and wild animals now.  It has been upgraded/modernized.  So has the zoo.  The San Diego Zoo.  That's still called the San Diego Zoo. I don't get it and I don't like it.  So, I still call it the Wild Animal Park.  And when I do, people feel compelled to correct me.  "It's the Safari Park now - not the Wild Animal Park."   I swear I hear a little "neener neener" after that, so I jump on the opportunity to correct the hell out of them.  "No.  It's actually now called the San Diego Zoo Safari Park.  Dumbass."  I mean, The Corrector obviously knew what I was referring to so, what, did they just want to show me how smart and current they are?  I don't care.  I'm smart too.  I'm also a proud card-carrying member of the Zoological Society of San Diego.  And if you've never been to the Wild Animal Park, I suggest you find a way to fit that in to your next trip to the San Diego area.  Don't go in the summertime.  That's when the animals are more lethargic (look it up).  Springtime is a great time to visit The Park.   Yes, I just shortened the name to The Park - but only because you already know I'm talking about the Wild Animal Park.  Not Central Park.  Not Yosemite National Park.  Not Gorky Park.  You get the idea.  So, check it out in the Spring.  You might get lucky enough to visit during their "Butterfly Jungle" event.  It only lasts about 3 weeks, but you get to see and photograph some very beautiful butterflies.  Butterflies in abundance.  These are just a few of the photos I took while I was there.  We also saw other animals.  Wild animals.  Lions and cheetahs.  Giraffes and rhinos.  We also took a tram ride that took us into a part of the park that you can't really walk into because the animals are, well...wild.  We had a great time and I'd recommend it for a day of family fun.

                          I also saw lion balls.  Here's a picture of them...

Friday, April 13, 2012


So I received an email this morning advising me of the passing of an ex-coworker.  I'm not really sure why this person felt compelled to let me know.  He knows there was absolutely NO love lost between me and this person.  She was not nice to me.  In the nearly 17 years we worked together, she was unable to utter an honestly pleasant word to me. 

She accused me of doing something (I've never known what) some 15 years prior to my leaving the company that negatively affected her.  And so she held some sort of grudge for nearly two decades.  She said I knew what it was and that she had it in writing.  I never saw what she was referring to, she was never willing or able to produce the "evidence" of my horrific action.  Yet she was known to growl, "SHE KNOWS WHAT SHE DID!  SHE KNOOOOOOWS!!"  These utterances from her caused some investigations within our organization.  I was questioned at work and even asked if I'd had any "minglings" with her husband.  Really?  I was told that the only reason a woman would hate another woman so much for so long is because they must have screwed around with the others hubby.  I was insulted and angered over this.  But got over it.  Nothing ever happened between her husband and me (except I always felt kind of sorry for him being married to her). 

She was a sue-happy person...sued her brother, her next-door neighbors, Wal-mart, her in-laws, and attempted to sue the company we worked for.  She thought her neighbors were spying on her.  She forced her husband to remove, completely, the patio bar in the new house they bought because there would be NO gathering place for the consumption of alcohol in her home.  During one of the many "investigative meetings" at work she threatened to hurt me.  She was fired for that threat but regained her job after three days off without pay (thank you Teamsters).  She told our employer I didn't like her because she was fat, gray-haired, and Mexican.  She wasn't fat.  She colored her hair red.  Yes, she was Mexican.  So are many people I am friends with and so were many of my coworkers at that time. 

I didn't like her because she was a bitch.

Bottom line - she was insecure.  Who knows why.  She had a loving husband and adoring son (whom she smothered the hell out of...poor kid).  She had a good job and lived in what I heard was a very nice home. 

She's gone now.  I'm not sad.  I left that company several years ago and have had no contact with her since.  When I found out she was ill, all I could think was that she brought it on herself.  Karma's also a bitch.

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Got Nothin' for Ya...Head Back to Camp

It's Wednesday.  My favorite night for TV.  I am a HUGE Survivor fan(atic).  I have been since the very first season.  In years past, I tried to become a contestant but, sadly, didn't get selected.  I've thought about reapplying but now I'd be that old lady who gets voted off first (or possibly second if some moron foolishly announces that he is the "leader" of one of the tribes - some never learn).  Nah!  As it is, I deal with enough young "adults" (term used incredibly loosely) at Melrose Place that annoy the sh*t out of me.  I don't need to fly off to some 'deserted' island for the purpose of being stranded in less than ideal conditions with a bunch of lazy a**ed know-it-all kids who are half my age talking AT me (or ignoring me) while fighting over (or for) rice, water, fire, and/or shelter.  Not to mention that I have no desire to risk shattering one (or both) of my brittle, yet very necessary, hips.  I could conceivably live another 20-30 years.  I'd like to do it with as many original parts as possible.  But I digress.  I get great pleasure out of shutting off the computer, turning down the lights, ignoring the phone, getting a big bowl of ice cream (Dreyer's Nestle Drumstick), and curling up on the couch in my jammies, all in preparation for just under an hour's worth of cheering, jeering, and nail-biting drama.  Well, that might be a slight exaggeration - but it is one of my few unadulterated pleasures. 

I would give almost anything to have Jeff Probst's job. He gets to visit some of the most beautiful places on earth while hosting one of the best shows on television (hey, my opinion matters to me), no doubt doing it in luxury and style while getting paid handsomely.  What other job offers all of that?  I'll go tally the votes...

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Melrose Place

Okay, so something exciting doesn't happen to me everyday.  In the meantime, I'll fill you in a little bit on where I live.  It's an apartment complex...courtyard type.  It is often referred to by the locals as "Melrose Place."  There are a few subtle differences though.  There are no cute wooden doors or archways.  There is a pool in the center of it all, but no gorgeous bodies lounging around it.  And no hot pool guy.  The tenants are not exactly young, beautiful, or professional.  Certainly not any combination of the three.  No, it's not a senior living complex either.  I'm middle-aged, not over-the-hill.  There are a few nice people living here.  Some are senior citizens, some are family people with small children, and some actually have jobs.  There is diversity.  There are a few apartments that exceed maximum occupancy.  There is an unusually high number of loud, vulgar, pot-smoking, white trash, useless, tattooed, drunk individuals living here.  Some are cohabitating, but I hope to God not procreating!  You'll hear more about them.  I loathe them.  I don't so much mind the tattoos - freedom of expression and all that - I just despise who the tattoos are attached to.

I'll fill you in later on the "Church Girls," "Speedo Man," "5150 the Music Mogul," "JoeJoe the Tattoo-Faced Boy," and "Peeping Juan."  It's a colorful place.  Can't we all just get along?

Monday, April 9, 2012


It sounds crazy, huh?  Well, not really.  I've always had the writing bug.  Now I have a forum for it.  Yay!  This is the first one, so bear with me as I get through it and see what the finished product looks like.  What is "my blog" about?  Just random crap that runs through my head regarding random crap that happens in my life.  No politics (or political correctness).  Well, maybe a little.  Politics...not correctness.  No "mommy" blogging.  I'm too old to remember most of that so I'll leave that to the young mommies.  No restaurant reviews (unless I treat myself...remember - the boyfriend is out of state).  I'm certainly not asking anyone to agree with me or argue with me...but you can if you want.  I hope I don't offend anyone...but I might.  If you recognize yourself here in these words of mine, remember this - it's not all about you.  I'm sarcastic and have been known to be cynical.  I'm okay with it.  I have a warped sense of humor (some call it immature).  It runs in the family.  There's a little intro to set the tone...

I have no idea where this will take me but I'm looking forward to wherever it may lead.  Now I can finally get some of these thoughts out of my brain so I can free up some space for more things I'm not supposed to talk about in public.

Oh, yeah - I'll decorate (customize) my "blog space" once I figure it all out.  Maybe.