Surprises

If I were to write about 2014 and not read the old blogs first, my first thought would be: It was a year filled with surprises.

Surprises I planned. (Lily meeting us in London - Nolan not having a clue). Really, London/Paris was a surprise too - as this time last year, it wasn't even a thought. It was a Christmas party that changed our lives.

A surprise trip to Hawaii. It wasn't on the books either. The boys, a trip to Texas.

A year not planned. Yet planned all the same.

We are taking one more trip this year. Not our normal trip to Salt Lake City. Although, the boys keep thinking we will end up there. We knew last year, that we were wrapping up that tradition.

But what to do this year?

I keep telling the boys "Oh, we will figure it out".

Although, part of it's been planned for months.  Good thing, or it wouldn't have happened. Wait a minute, there is nothing really planned - just some airline tickets.

The rest of the trip?

It's full of surprises.......

This time of year

From previous experience, I have learned December is a busy month. Almost everyone I know realizes December is busy.

Usually, I'm able to roll with it. 

At my house, we have the end of the year school activities. Now the boys are in high school - there are finals before break. Duncan's birthday is half way through the month - adding a few more things to do. If Christmas cards aren't ordered before Thanksgiving, they just aren't going to happen.

Of course, it is also hockey season. Only this year, the both played on club teams. Teams that normally run until the end of February. However, due to the higher levels teams they made this year, they end early, so those players can go play high school hockey. Meaning, that this year, hockey season was wrapping up also in December. The good news is, both teams made the play-offs. Both teams lost in the state finals. Then the high school hockey team practices started in early November. Meaning, I have two sons on three teams. The week of play-offs, the week before finals, the week before Duncan's birthday - there were 12 games in 7 days. I was exhausted.

And I didn't even play!

Then, it's Sunday afternoon. Apparently I didn't attend enough sporting events and went to watch the Broncos play. It's cloudy with light snow. I'm meeting some girlfriends at the Cricket. A local dive burger bar. I have my yoga clothes on. My hair is clean and curly. I'm not sure if I have make up on or not.

I take a seat at the bar waiting for my friends. I start talking to the guy next to me. (Yes, this is a common theme in my life).

Long story short:  My girlfriends arrive and we stay sitting at the bar. We eat. We watch the game. The game is over. The whole time I'm still talking to the guy next to me.

My friends leave. Still talking. I look up and it's now 10pm. I don't do anything for 8 hours - yet, I've been sitting here. 

Turns out he's pilot for United. Flies the San Fran to Asia route. He was here for training. Leaving on Tuesday.

I tell him about my insane week and how nothing extra gets fit in this time of year. He wants to know if I can go to dinner the next night. Can't do it. It's Duncan's birthday, plus I have one more hockey game.

People always tell us, just ask. Ask the one more question. So, I reply, "Do you have to leave on Tuesday?" He says, "No, I don't fly again until Sunday".

He stayed the week. We went to dinner every night after Monday. I took him to the airport on Friday afternoon on my way to yet another hockey game.

I was a "little" behind on some things - I'm now at least two weeks behind on everything. I'm blaming it on the time of year.

The Banker and The Fisherman

I was at a business event on Thursday night. I don't attend these types of events on a regular basis - I used to. A friend of mine runs this event, so I went to help out.

Basically, it's a cocktail party - with corporate sponsors held at a bank (A very special bank - this one is called Young Americans Bank. It's geared for everyone under the age of 21. They have summer camps and educational programs through the schools. A program like no other in the US).

Side note:  As much as I love the bank, I have to smile when I think of some kid saying they went to summer camp at bank. :-)

You mingle with business owners, sales people, other community service organizations. A wide variety of people. These can be boring, but it's also a good time to meet new people. There was also a silent auction going on. Great gifts.

I was talking to one of the guys at the event. Talking about business. Talking about business. Of course we get to the point in the conversation when they ask where my office is. I reply, I work from home. Many people work from home these days.

With technology what is, it makes sense.

Then, of course, we get to my families summers in Hawaii. It's funny, the first people usually comment on is the time difference. I then explain, it's worth it to get up at 4 in the morning to work. My work day is over by 11am.  Ah, then they see the light. We talk a bit more about work schedules, etc.

I happen to make the comment, "I may have to work longer in years, but I will have enjoyed my years more".

This man, I'll call Bob, smiles and says to me, "Do you know about the fisherman and the banker?"

"No, please tell"

This banker was on vacation and paid a commercial fisherman to take him out deep sea fishing for the day. They spend about 6 hours on the boat. Come home with fish. The banker pays him and they go to part ways. The banker says to the fisherman, "Wow. What a great day." "You know, we could really turn this into a great operation.  We could hire some people, buy a couple more boats, re-do the marina." "Work really hard and you could retire in ten years."

The fisherman smiled at the banker and replied, "Yes, and what would I do when I retire?"  The banker says, "Oh, I guess you would be doing this......."

Some of us understand that sooner than others.

 

Shuffling

The virus is gone from the computer.

From what I can tell, the virus is gone from this website.

Nothing really disappeared. As usual. Things don't usually disappear, they just go into hiding until you need them again.

Then they reappear when you need them. When you least expect them.

Its all just been rearranged. Much like life.

You think life is going to go a certain way. Then it gets rearranged.

You end up getting what you want in life, not just when you want it. I'm a HUGE believer in the fact that life works out the way it is supposed to work out.

Just not always in the time frame we think it should.

Apparently, this blog site thought it should shuffle some blogs around. They were here the whole time.

As usual. As most things are. We just weren't paying attention when things were shuffled.......

My mom friends

Not my mom's friends but MY mom friends.

These are the group of people

Technical Difficultities

Two weeks ago my computer got a virus.  It took many hours to get rid of it - but it was gone.

Now, there is something wrong with site - so this is test to see if it will stay up there. I had some old posts and "re-posted" them, but they keep not posting. Then posting. Then disappearing again only to re-post the next day.

Not sure what is going on.  I was actually writing again..... UGH

Trying to get this sorted out - so if you see this, then you don't, then you do.  It's not just you.  Maybe it's just me.

Two spaces

I recently learned, you are only supposed to have one space at the end of a sentence, after the period. In fact, it "dates" you - as in, it makes you look old if you have two spaces after the period.

I learned this a few months ago. I keep trying to only "hit the space bar once" after the sentence ends, but it is hard! I was also told, it is no longer a "period", but a dot.

The reason was years ago it had to do with typesetting. Before we all had typewriters, everything was "set". The only way it looked good in print and to publish was to provide two spaces at the end of a sentence for formatting.

It looks funny to me, but old habits are hard to break. I don't know it any another way. Also, I just automatically do it. (I think I've had to backspace at least 10 times already in this one story).

It's like there is something missing when I just hit the space bar once!  The space bar needs more loving. I've been working on it. I'll keep working on it. Us old dogs, can learn new tricks.

BUT, the REAL reason I have to confess - I finally figured out the format to the book I need to write. AND, for that, I really should use modern formats. For a few years now, I've gone back and forth on what to write. How to write. The subject of the matter. I've figured it out.

Go to what you know best. That is what they tell us. (Whomever "THEY" might be). What do I know?

THEY say, tell someone you have a deadline.  Mine's October first.

I know how to swap a house. I also know to only put one space at the end of a sentence. Sometimes though, you need two places........

It was so cold....

How cold was it?

• Roosters wished they were fertilizing more eggs
• Hitch hickers were holding pictures of thumbs
• You were thankful for hot flashes
• People are starting to worry about the phrase "when hell freezes over"
• Hip hopers have pulled their pants up
• My dentures were chattering in the glass
• The Democrats and Republicans were getting along
• The polar bears at the zoo decided to stay inside
• The frozen food needs to stay in the freezer to thaw
• It's balmy warm at 30 degrees
• Even I wanted to drink coffee
• Hockey was cancelled

Now you know, it must have been cold.

History in the making

Two weeks ago, I attended a focus group. This focus group was about banking for small business owners. At the beginning of the group, they have you go around the table and introduce yourself. Talk about your business, how long you've been doing this and what you like and dislike about banking.

Yes, I know, this sounds very exciting. Ha!

Banking - not so fascinating. The 7 other people at the table - very fascinating. All small business owners. All about the same age. (We did find out there had been another focus group of younger entrepreneurs at a different time).

My introduction started like this:  "Hi! My name is Leasa and I have a start-up addiction problem".

Everyone smiled. We were there for two hours discussing different ideas. Likes/Dislikes about how we pay our bills. How we receive our payments.

It was actually a very intellectual, though provoking discussion. It also paid really well.

Truthfully, I haven't really had the "start-up itch" in quite a while. I got burned by one. Nearly died of boredom at the last one. Needed a break.

"Went back to the boyfriend whom has always loved me" - recruiting. The true main stay in my career. Yes, he still bores me to death too, but he allows me my freedom. I know how to do it. And, I make money. Sometimes.

I've been recruiting. I've been writing - trying to get that pesky book actually done.

The "start-up itch" actually hasn't even been itching. Perusing Craigslist for start-up opportunities has even died off. I've been quite happy at home.

Well, then, we know what happens next. Something happens next anyway. An inquiry is sent to a company. An e-mail is followed up on.

BUT.

Not this time.

This start-up is actually going to be my favorite. Yes, I know, I say that about all of them. While I truly do love all of them. This one, I'm going to make my mark.

I'm not going to make any money. Not that I've made a ton of money on my other start-ups. (By the way, I am still waiting for my million dollar home run - that one will come, it's just not this one).

My sons attend East High School. A Denver Public School. They both play hockey. They have played club hockey for years.

This year, for the first time EVER in the history of Denver Public Schools, East High School has a hockey team.

Try-outs are tonight. 35 kids showed up. (The way sports work in Colorado schools - if they don't offer that sport at your school, you can play on another schools team).  Many of these kids have been playing "club" level or at private schools. They can put 30 kids on the team.

The dad whom has been instrumental in getting the team to DPS (Denver Public Schools) - his son is a senior. The son plays goalie. Only, the son is done. He doesn't want to play anymore. The dad was set to be the team manager.

I'm actually really proud of the dad for not making his son play. I'm also SUPER proud of the kid for saying "I'm done". That 's a huge lesson in life.

Which brings us to me. The other dad called me. Well, actually, he e-mailed the boys dad - whom said he couldn't do it, do I want to do this?

I will have two kids on the same team for the first time ever. There has never been a team manager. There has never been a "Booster Club".  There has never been an "East High School Hockey Team". In fact, there has never been a Denver high school hockey team.

Someone has to be in charge.

This start-up might not make me rich, but it will help me make history. In more ways than one.

Plans

First, the world tells us - without a plan, you have no hope. "An idea without a plan, is just a dream".  You better have a plan.

Then the world tells us: it's okay if everything doesn't go according to plan, you might end up in a better place.

SOOOOOO

Which is it? Am I supposed to plan? (as I really I am a planner) Or plan, then not really care if I get the end results?

Once again, which is it?

I could list a million quotes:

Something about the only failure is the failure to plan. Am I planning to succeed or am I planning to not care if my plans go off the deep end.

Society tells us to plan our lives. Then they tell us to live your own path. Fight the fight.

Be different. Be the same.

Vote my way.

Once again: Yes, plan. Plan for emergencies.

Plan for vacations.

Plan for vacations that count as emergencies.

Plan to get your heart broke

Plan:

for failures

successes

adventures

for staying at home

to live without the one whom woke you up in life

to be bored

to be sad

to be happy

for some of these things to happen all in one weekend. Or maybe one day.

The highs.

The lows.

To give up

Or not.

Don't ever let anyone else tell you whom you are going to be. Or your life is going to turn out a certain way.

Plan to find yourself.

Just remember, whom you've been all along.

The road to hell is led with good intentions.

Just remember who you've been all along.

Predicting the future

Psychics. Fortune tellers.

What comes to mind when you hear these words?

Fake? Day dream believers? Seller of hopes? Not real.

It's funny. When I hear these words. MOST OF THE TIME.  I think: "misunderstood".

We all receive those "thoughts" or "foreshadowing" or "pings" in our lives. Little things that go unnoticed. Until much later. Then we look back and think "Oh, yeah, I've been thinking about those things for years."

Do I believe I can tell you those "little things" about your life? No.  Not a chance. Can someone else tell you those things about your life? Maybe. Can you look back at your life and "SEE" what was coming. ABSOLUTELY.

Without a doubt.

We just don't listen. The world tells us things all the time.  We hear them. The first time. The hundredth time.

My favorite future prediction story has to do with my youngest son:

I always knew I was going to have a Nolan.

This from the woman whom wasn't sure she was going to have kids. I knew I was going to have a Nolan though.

My mom had baby-sat for a family when she was growing up. The ages all begin to blend at some point in life. As my mom is only 19 years younger than her mom. The other parents were only a few years younger than my grand-parents. We all grew up together.

The third child of the family my mom baby sat, well, I think he's only 5 or 6 years older than me. I'm not sure.

What I do know: we were at their house in Tulsa, OK. I couldn't have been more than 5. AT THE OLDEST.

But, I remember the conversation very clearly:

We were discussing our friends (my mom and I).  We were talking about names. Going through everyone's names. (No, I don't know why).  And we get to the third child.  His name is Brian Nolan B.

I remember rolling over on to my stomach. I remember saying "what did you say his middle name was?"  "Nolan".  Very distinctly I remember replying "Nolan" "That's a different kind of name".

She explained to me he was named after a business partner of his dad's. I couldn't have been more than five.

I'm not sure when I began to remember the story. I married a guy with a Scottish/Irish background. We wanted their names to "go with" their last name".

When I was pregnant with my second son - we didn't know if he was going to be a boy or girl. This drove the world crazy. "How can you not know??" My reply, "I have the rest of my life to know."

There are so few "good surprises" in life. You know, the surprises that take your breath away. That let you breathe the way life told you all along you were going to breathe this way.

About the time my labor started, the priest from the church called and asked if we he was here yet.  .

I remember telling him, "I know you aren't going to believe this, but my contractions started about an hour ago. Although we still aren't sure if he is a boy or a girl.".

Nolan's dad didn't even know at this point.  The priest asked if he could call the hospital tomorrow to check on us.  Of course, I replied.

We are in the Labor and Delivery room at Rose Hospital in Denver, CO. It's the final moments. My doctor - whom was about my age - looked around the room. She said "SO, is it a boy or a girl?"

Nurse:  Girl.  Dad: I have no idea.  Me:  He's a boy. His name is Nolan.

He was born a few minutes later. I forgot to ask if he was a boy or a girl.

I guess they aren't really surprises. Just listen people. Just listen.

News

Turn your TV off.

All of you.

Turn the internet news off too.

Unless you are willing to make a change and DO SOMETHING that will make a difference. Quit whining.

My oldest "son" in Hawaii and I were talking about ISIS today. He also sent a text about the Governor of Colorado.

The response to him, from me: "What are YOU doing about it but complaining?"

Then he calls, he tells me I'm a very bad person (well, this is not true, as we had several conversations about now and what is going on in the world.)

Truth be told: I couldn't tell you what was going on in the world.

Is it important to know what is going on?

ABSOLUTELY.

Are you going to do anything about the fact it isn't the way YOU believe?

THEN, (I'm sorry) - Be quiet - it's just whining.

No one has EVER changed their mind in a moment approached by controversy.

Most people might actually listen to others. When you tell people though, you have to change your mind? That doesn't work. We all know that.

I hear the mayor in Houston, TX is trying to combine the separation of the church and state. I don't agree with that.

However, other than just ignoring it - I can have a conversation with friends. I can tell people I don't agree.

What I can't do: Tell someone else my way of thinking is the right way. Their way is not.

What I can do:

Stop reading the newspaper

Don't read the headlines on the internet

Volunteer

Worry less

Breathe more

Make a difference.

Or keep whining.

It's not news, it's just chatter.....

Soft

A good friend of mine at the club has become "soft".

I say this lightly. I do owe another entire tribute to my women friends at the club where I work out. Where else do you know an entire group of people - but the only way to recognize them is naked?

The locker room - well, you stand there naked talking to other women. Over-weight. Under weight. Eating disorders. Career women. Stay at home moms. Retired women. "Trophy" wives. Women that never worked, as they married men whom didn't think they should. Everything in between.

The women whom swim laps every day. Or go to the morning class. Those whom rush off. Those whom linger. Those whom are training. Those whom the only place they have to go is the club. You can see their loneliness pouring from their skin.

We've been through births. Deaths. Heart aches. Success.

All while standing their naked.

This year the club put out "bath wraps" - which I have always loved, but well, these make you hot. They must not be 100% cotton. Must be polyester.

Can I borrow your brush? Do you have a tampon? An extra razor? What is going on with your hormones? Does this get better? Does this get worse? What books have you read? You taking a trip?I'm running late for a meeting, whom has an extra bra in their bag?

One of the women from the locker room - her husband died in bike wreck last year. He was in his early 60's. Her father was a gold medal winner in the Olympics in Germany. He met Hitler. I love all her stories. We've all been there to help her back to her new "normal".

One woman, she and her husband classified themselves as alcoholics. Now they run marathons and Ironman's.  They have twin girls in 3rd grade. My youngest son is their hero - running his first half marathon at 12. They love that story.

Another locker room friend. She's always been "hard". Determined. And seriously, the best body ever. I don't know anyone out there whom wouldn't be jealous of her body.  Not bony skinny - just in shape.

5 years ago - she gave birth to a baby girl. Two years later another one.  19 years ago - she gave up one.

She never has let herself feel.

I tell her all the time "You got "Soft" on me."  She's such a great mom. She bitches. She moans. She grumbles. She works out everyday. She's honest.

She looks better than most of us could ever dream. She's over 40.

She now knows the daughter she gave up at 19. She works in a PICU unit of a hospital as a nurse. She's hardcore when she needs to be.

But, I've known her for years. She's a bit softer than she use to be.

The way my brain works

My brain NEVER stops. Ever.

Of course, all the things that flutter across my mind, don't make sense. These are not logical thoughts. Actually, they are logical thoughts, but a bit of over-thinking.

Not over-thinking of the stuff I should be over-thinking. You know, not:

• How's my retirement doing?
• What is the best ACT/SAT prep class out there for my kids? I should research that more.
• Am I focused enough on work?
• What can I do to make my business grow?
• Where am I going to move after the kids are gone to college? Or should I wait until after college.

Those BORING things we NEED to do. The things that we SHOULD think about. I just don't. My life just works out, not going to over think it.

No, my mind works more like this:

I'm driving to get groceries and I think of a couple of more things I need. Only two seconds later I have NO idea (as in NOT A CLUE) what I was going to add to the list. (No list = it doesn't make it home).

Oh, then I see some graffiti on an over pass.  In the middle of the bridge. In the middle of the space between the top and the "space".  How do they get there? Do they hang upside down on the freeway and spray paint? Do they go to graffiti school as in I think all the graffiti looks the same. Is there a class for this?

Oh, look there is another pot shop - let's count how many pot shops we can spot in the next mile.

Crap, green light - I just remembered what I was going to add to the grocery list and I need to write it down before I forget again. Oh well, maybe it will come back before I get to the store.

I really love the song on the radio. Only I don't ever know the titles or the artist. Oh, wait, this song sounds just like the one that makes me think of the second summer in Hawaii.  You know the one! Why can't I think of it!!

I'm at the grocery store. Where's that list?

My brain makes me really tired.

When we are home

When I'm out on my adventures - I don't ever miss anything. I don't miss my house. I don't miss my friends, because with communication the way it is today, we still communicate. I don't miss my kids - as they are usually with me. I don't miss work.

I'm perfectly content being out exploring the world.

It's when I'm home, I miss things.

Shouldn't it be the other way around?

I don't think I'm missing out on things when I'm home, but I start to miss things that I'm not doing. With him.

I start to miss traveling. I do really miss the airport - the watching of people. Random strangers connecting. Flights that can take you to far away destinations or quick adventures.

I miss my adventures. Not that I don't have them at home. The adventures are just different when you are in a different place.

I miss my family when I'm home. My extended family. My boys when they are at their dads. I actually miss them when they are at school too (even though they drive me nuts when we are together).

I miss things that aren't real. I miss people whom aren't present.

Peter Pan was in town this weekend. I didn't see him. But it made me think. It's funny - he lives half a world away. He lives with a girlfriend. He says he's not happy - but he doesn't make the change. I could on and on about this story - as it never seems to go away.

Truth be told though, we probably text every other week. Some times we do go three weeks, but not much more without reaching out to each other.

He's out having adventures too. He's living his life.

But when he gets home.

He's in his childhood room. In his childhood house.  He's safe. I'm the one to whom he calls or texts. I always know when he's home.

The texts/calls are different. He can let himself me vulnerable.

It's us truly missing each other.

He was here this week. He left on Tuesday night. He had texted me at midnight Monday night - after a weekend of texts, asking if he could stop by.

I replied "Nope".

It was the middle of the night.

We only miss each other when we are at home.

PS.

I sent him a text last night. Of course, I'm home - and he's safe for me to miss now. He is also back to his life. He was in Boston - he had an emergency appendectomy - he had been internally bleeding for over a day. His girlfriend was not in town. I'm the first person he let know after surgery.

He nearly died. He was in surgery for over 5 hours.

I couldn't breathe - as of course, the person I am felt guilty for not letting him come over. Maybe I would have known something was wrong.

But I was home, missing him.

It's complicated

I was "chatting" with a friend of mine in London the other day. We were on instant messenger.

I've known him a long time. In fact, I don't even think I was pregnant with Nolan when I met him. We worked together.

He and his girlfriend had met in St Louis. Moved to Denver. Both were from "the other side of the pond" - I believe she was from Slovenia. He was from England.

I worked with him. My children's dad and I did several things with them. We knew them for years.

We got divorced. He and his girlfriend broke up. We went out a couple of times. But I'm not sure either of us really knew how to act in this situation - so we did what I commonly do, we became friends.

He moved back to Europe a few years ago. We've never lost touch. In fact, we all went to dinner together in London in the Spring. He bought Duncan a pint of beer. I remember him saying to the boys "wow, you grew up!"

In our messaging we were talking about dating and he is dating this woman. Then he says "It's complicated".

The first thing I respond is "Is she married?"

"She has twin 17 year olds" "She never married, but is with her partner of 18 years".

We chat for a bit about this. I didn't ask if this "partner" was male or female - as in the USA when someone says "partner" - I assume, business or same sex. However, across the world "partner" can  mean all sorts of things.

Of course though, my grandfather always called his grand-sons his "partners" - to me, that is what "partner" really means".

See, it's not complicated. It's love.

Booty Call

Vulnerable. This is what I'm about to do.

Years ago,I posted this on Craigslist. This was years before the blog. Before the book. Here's me, being raw:

It was just a booty call:

Isn't that what is was all about?  I didn't want you, you couldn't have me..... The ultimate paradox. You won, I lost, or was that I won, and you lost?  To the guy that will always make my legs shake, my hand quake and my heart break..... I knew from the moment I told you:  "You are really cute, I'm really married and I really have two kids,"  was the moment that my life would change forever. Okay, I didn't know I knew it then, but my earth did turn.  Because you looked at me with those blue eyes and said "so, you think I'm cute"... blah, blah, blah,.  Charlie Brown's teacher was speaking everything I said from that point on.   Nothing else was heard.  And really that was the end of that, but no - you sent an e-mail asking if I had been where we met.  I still ask, what made you do that?  I guess it was the e-mail that changed my life.  My first thought was "is that the guy from the Cricket?" :-)

FAST FORWARD:

NINE YEAR LATER

Yes, you read that right.  9 years......  I'm no longer married....  The Cricket guy, well he doesn't live here any more - his parents do.  And yes, he still loves me.  Who knew?  A Random night at the Cricket would change my life.  Of course, I'm writing this on 9/11 - the day I knew I would leave my husband and the day I knew I was going forward.

The day of change for many people and I knew at that very moment, that well, I was on the walk to the future.  I was scared, I was a long a way from home, I had two young sons, a husband, a job and everything that anyone could want.  And I wanted you....

Isn't that the most selfish thing you have ever heard?  You were like a drug.  I remember the night, I was still married, moving out in January, it was October, I was sleeping downstairs (no justification - just an explanation) .  "I fell for a shooting star, the one without a permanent scar" - and for the last NINE years I have denied it.

Well, here I am

And you know it, but you moved away and came back this weekend.  But, after today you are gone. And, that I can't deal with.... I wish I could.  Somewhere along the way we messed up.  See here is the thing, I didn't see you this weekend - I can't handle it.  We haven't had sex in over a year.  And seeing you, well,  it would break my heart.......  And I think it's great that we still keep in touch and we have been through the ups and downs of relationships with others.

Thank you -
For letting me fall for the shooting star
For letting you let go and hang on all at the same time  - even if you didn't know you were doing it
For being scared and admitting you couldn't "handle me" - not many men could say that out loud.
For calling me when you are drunk and letting me do the same.
For not marrying the girl you could have, because you were still in love with girl you weren't supposed to have.....
For helping me find me.

However, here we are.....

You see, you were this cute young guy I met .......

And I remember that night very clearly....I wanted to come back in.....

You have now officially moved away.  So, when you call me in 20 years, and have to show up at my door with your kids; well this is what I have to say:

I don't like babies, but I'd have one with you
I am 40 years old (ok, so in 20 years that would be 60), we should have had that baby then
I still love you
Get on with your life
Don't get on with your life without me
So I understand you call me when you are drunk and scared....

To the guy I will always love and never have an enough - thanks for both letting go and hanging on.   I don't met the profile and it took me a long time to accept this, but my oh my, do I love you.....


And I wish yes, it was just a meeting at the Cricket, but well, we are past that point...... You can't stand up, really?  You have it in you.

If you don't really have it in you, thank you for the ultimate booty call - thanks for what you could do for me.

Listen Up

Huh?

What did you say?

People don't listen.

I like to think we don't hear things, but the truth is, we - as a society - just don't listen.

Think about it. Do we listen to hear what the other person is saying or do we listen to hear when the other person is going to stop talking so we can respond?

In general, people are crappy listeners. Keep thinking. How many times have you said something and the next thing the person says is how it relates to them?

I read an article once about polite conversations. Not sure when this was or what the true intention of the article was (see, I wasn't listening - or paying attention), but I remember these points:

When someone tells a story, makes a point, etc - make TWO points about THEIR story before you tell your story on how the same thing happened to you.

If you've heard the story before, just go with it.

It's funny how people tend to bring the story back to THEIR life instead of listening to what is really happening. Yes, we want to share OUR experience with the story teller - it's hard not to chime in. But it's also a beautiful thing is life to HEAR what people are really saying.

There is a yoga class I take every week. Tuesdays at lunch time. The class is called Yin Yang yoga. Yin is seen as dark, passive. Yang is seen as light, active.

During the class - we move into a stretch position (all sitting or on our back) - THEN, you stay there for 5 minutes.

Yes, you are in some fold, some bend, some uncomfortable position for 5 minutes. It takes me about 30 minutes into class before I can actually "calm down" enough to listen.

You see, during that 5 minutes our instruction reads us "readings" about "centering yourself" or a passage from a Bible or a Buddhist reading. Truly it's "non-denominational" - meaning, it's about the moment we are in. Something to get you centered into something other than yourself.

I think of it as "church" with exercise.

The first 30 minutes of the class, when the instructor is speaking - when we are supposed to be listening - she will say something. Then, I'm off in my mind. Thinking about how that could parlay into my life or whom I should tell about what I just heard, or WHO KNOWS WHAT ELSE MY MIND IS THINKING.

But, I can tell you this - my mind is then NOT listening to the next few sentences. I'm busy thinking about how this effects my life.

Then at some point during the class, that feeling slowly melts away. I'm no longer thinking about what she is saying.

I'm stretching. I'm listening. I'm just being.

THEN, later on, something I heard while I was listening in class - well, it pops up in a situation. Wait, I think - I remember hearing something and how to apply it in this situation. I know how to handle it.

I was listening.

 

He is my son

In case there were any doubts, Duncan is definitely my son.

Not that I really doubted it.  I think people are born being whom they are going to be.  Your parents help you live up to your potential. Or, they don't.

Simple as that. Yes, some parents can "make" their kids "bad". But giving your kid things or opportunities you didn't have doesn't make the kid better. In fact, the kid might not work as hard. Who really knows.

A little bit of both. Nature and nurture.

Duncan is not shy. He has also never met a stranger. He works hard. He's a bit at lazy at times (aren't we all?). When his mind is made up though, don't stand in his way. He will figure out how to get it done.

On Sunday early evening, Duncan and his dad were running an errand. Duncan sees this super sharp black Audi with tinted windows.  He comments to his dad, "That is Matt so and so" (He plays for the Colorado Avalanche - our professional hockey team).

Duncan plays hockey. He hopes to go on and play in the juniors or in college. Maybe even the NHL. Of course, most kids I know at some point want to be the professional athlete.

Duncan is then of course arguing with his father about whom is the car. They are in a neighborhood close to my house.  Duncan's dad comments, "Well, if they are on Pearl Street they are probably going to the Sushi Den for dinner".  Duncan convinces his dad to go by the Sushi Den.

Yes, of course, two Avalanche players step out of the car at valet.  Duncan says to his dad, "Stop the car. I'll be right back."

Duncan goes in. Approaches the two star players on our team and asks if he can get his picture taken with them. Of course he does.

He was very excited. He was taller than one and the same height as the other. He did comment that they were "huge".

The picture is cute.  They are all smiling.

I wonder where he gets that from.

Did you cry?

As an adult, most people associate crying with happiness or sadness.  Not with physical pain. 

We think of children crying when they are hurt. Aren't we all hurt when we cry?

We associate crying with hurt and pain.  But at some point in our lives, we are told to quit crying when we are hurt. 

Most of us think about not crying and physical pain. Emotional pain, it seems to be accepted to cry - that is if you are female and under the age of 10. 

"Stop crying - you aren't a baby"

"Only girls cry"

Part of me gets in.  No one likes whiny kids/people whom "cry" to get their way. We know plenty of them.

But sometimes, it feels good to cry.  Cry in the good way.

Crying at Fred Claus.  Or an episode of Modern Family. Like people get you. You aren't all alone.

However, during the transition from crying when you fall to crying at Olympic commercials, there are those transitional crying years.

When you hurt from sadness.  You cry then too.

Then as a society we are once again told to not cry. It shows weakness.

A friend of mine cut her leg open on a rock - it was pretty big gash (no, this wasn't me).  I saw her a few weeks later.  The cut was healing, but I was like "what the hell did you do?".  She explained what happened.  She was at an exercise class in the park.  They were "rock hopping".  OUCH!!

She's telling me this story, after I asked her about the cut.  OMG.  OUCH! was my reply.  She said, "It's funny, Sawyer (her son whom is 13) asked "Did you cry?"

It stuck out to her.

Several years ago, right after my surfing accident, I was telling my youngest son the story. The first question he asked:  "Did you cry?"

He was 12.

I had never thought about it.  But, it stuck with me. Moms don't cry. If you think about it, when you were a kid and you witnessed an adult crying, you didn't know what to do. 

Grown-ups don't cry.  

But maybe there is something to this. We do learn to outgrow crying at physical pain. We learn to cry when we really hurt.

Heart Aches

A week ago Saturday, my neighbors across the street left for Kona, Hawaii.

I was a bit distraught. Jealous might be a better word.

Their cars were in the driveway, early Saturday morning. There were other cars out front. I knew what was going on.

Knew in the good way.

There were good things happening. There was so sadness, only for my jealously.

They had been to Kona before. They like to scuba dive. They usually go to the Caribbean - they think the water is warmer there.

They have been to St Johns and one other Caribbean islands since the first time we went to Kona. They finally went back to Kona.

I sent them with a list of things they needed to do. Places they needed to see. They had asked as they had met our "house swap family" and heard also the tales we had to share.

Tonight, I stare at their empty house. The house/dog-sitter's have left. They will arrive home in the morning.

Who knows, they might not have fallen in love with the place I love. They might be glad to be home. But I can't wait to hear about Canoe Club, or the hikes I sent them on.

I can't wait. But I can wait. As the heart ache for all of us will be here soon enough.

The bunny

I live IN the city. As in, Denver proper. Not the suburbs. Not the "surrounding area". 

IN Denver.

Yet, I still think downtown is bit far. 6 miles. Parking is pain though. You can ride the light rail (train) or bus. Which is great. I've done this many times.

I tell people I live in "Suburbs in the City".  Still in the city, yet, some "suburban" happenings. 

The happenings I think of are the wild animals in my neighborhood.

In this neighborhood we have squirrels (although they tell me they have those in the city too), foxes, coyotes and rabbits. To name a few.  These don't include the wild birds or stray cats that roam the neighborhood.

There are two golf courses nearby. The foxes normally live there. They then over-populate and are moved out of town.

The next summer, the squirrels and rabbits are rampant. They have no predator except the domestic dogs.

Then the following summer?  The rabbits and squirrels will be gone. 

Foxes and coyotes will be back.

Truth be told, I like the summers and falls of the foxes and coyotes.

They don't eat my flowers. They keep running.

The rabbits? They stick around for a bit.

In fact, I've named the few in our yard.

The first one is Charlotte. Then there is Sam. Now there is a baby named Bob.  (Ask Lily about all the Bob's in our life)

My kid's roll their eyes at me when I talk about Charlotte. As they are sure we have more than these three bunnies living in our yard. I've been told "It's not the same one".

Although, the other day, I was told to not let Dakota (the dog we are dog sitting) out as "Charlotte was in the yard." They tried hard not to smile when they actually called the bunny Charlotte, instead of some "random rabbit in the yard".

We are dog sitting our dog from Hawaii. We have a bunny name Charlotte.

A 12 year old girl

When I think of pre-teen girls, I think:

• Giggles
• Laughter
• Cliques
• Vivid Imaginations
• Fairy Tales (BTW, I had to spell check these words, as I thought it was just one word)
• Obsessive
• Stuck between childhood and adulthood
• Dreamers
• Insecure
• Realists
• Hopeful

Not having a daughter around full-time, I, of course, revert back to my thoughts as a pre-teen girl. Basically, the same as all of the above.

That inner 12 year old still lives inside of all of us.  I don't know if it's true with the guys, but I'm thinking it is. One day, I'll ask my grown sons if they still think people think of them as 12 years old.

There is a HUGE distinction here - not a 13 year old or older. Not 11 or younger. But 12.  

That magical age when you are still a kid. Yet, ALMOST an adult. With no hormones.  Perfection. 12 years old.

Old enough to get to ride your bike around the neighborhood.  Not old enough to be expected to have a job.

Can stay out until it's dark. Yet your only responsibilities are at your house.  With your family. Not yet whiny that you can't go OUTSIDE your neighborhood (your brain).

The perfect age in life.

Which brings me to last week.

I had a busy Tuesday - I had been in Dallas.  I flew in. I went to the grocery store. I picked up the dog. I cooked dinner. (Recurring them here - when I'm busy, I don't pay attention to details)

The boys came home from school (dinner was early that night). I went to Back to School Night. The boys went to hockey - my oldest drove them.

I had an hour to kill before I needed to do the hockey pick up. (It's 8pm now)

Long story, even longer......

I stopped at Elway's on my way home. I have an hour. 

Sit at the bar. Have a drink.

Chatting to the guys next to me. Mid conversation with the guy on my left - I think my mouth fell open.  

Seriously?

Have I really done this again? At least this time I realized it sooner than later.

I had realized he was the head coach of the Colorado Avalanche.  Former Goalie for the Colorado Avalanche.  (our hockey team)  (Patrick Roy)

We chat.  I chat with the guys on the other side of me.

It's time to go.  Do I say anything?  Do I not?

Holy cow, this guy is my sons' hero.  How do I not at least get an autograph. Only, my boys aren't here - so that's quite odd.

This time, I was the grown-up.......  "Excuse me, I realized whom you are. Both my sons play hockey. One son is a goalie, would you mind writing my son a note?"

As I said, long story, long......

He wrote Nolan a note. Then he suggested we take a picture together.

He's really cute right? We look good together, don't we? Look in the picture, it looks like we BELONG together- we match our blue!  He's single too!  AND age appropriate. Maybe I should have given him my phone number? Maybe he will leave a note for me at the bar? Maybe I should go back?  I know he's still thinking of me too?  OMG!!!! He was SOOOO nice!!! Can you imagine if he gave Nolan pointers on how to be a goalie??

OH MY GOD!!!!

I was telling this story to another hockey mom. Her 12 year old daughter was sitting with us - after showing her the picture, she rambled a bit like I rambled above. (the daughter that is)

Glad to know there is still a 12 year old alive inside.

(PS.  I'll keep you posted!!!) ;-)

PSS.  One of my girlfriends wants to know whom I'm having drinks with next month....... (See, we are all 12 some place inside).

Oh my

I'm still alive. These last couple of weeks ended up busier than I thought. I just didn't realize it had been so long since I had written.

SORRY!!!

I know how it is. There are a couple of blogs I read and COMPLETELY get being disappointed when you check the page and there is nothing new. But I also I have to say, one blog I check, he updates everyday - then I'm kinda exhausted.  A bit much.

Oh my - I'll write more soon.

A setting on the washing machine

There is nothing in my life that even begins to resemble what people think of as "normal".

Although really, what is normal?

What does society think of as normal?  And by society, I mean ours - in America.  And by America, I mean white, upper middle class.  In other words, those people we run around with.

If you were to ask people in rural America what their definition of "normal is - it might include: owning a horse.  Or growing/hunting their own food.

If you were to ask people in Alaska - it might even be different.  Heaven forbid if we ask people in another country - another religion - another economic status their definition of "normal".  It changes from group to group.

My normal?

I'm going to Dallas tomorrow.  I'm dog-sitting right now, but the dog is going to stay with friends whom also helped us dog sit in Hawaii.

Then I call a friend whom we do the airport shuffle together (we all live in the same neighborhood so we take each other to and from the airport on a regular basis when needed) about picking me up from the airport.

Sure, it's not a problem.  But, my brother-in-law and his family are leaving that day.  Do you mind if we take your car and leave it at the airport for you?

"That works great!".  Oh, wait, who is staying at your house while you are gone?   "No one, just the boys coming in and out to feed the cat".  "Oh, can my husband's parents stay the last two nights, then they will drive your car to the airport.".

They have house-sat before.  The in-laws that is.

I just laughed during our conversation.  I'm so thankful my world just flows.

The only normal thing anyone has in their life is the setting on the washing machine.  (That's assuming you have one of those).

A ride like no other

I love amusement parks. Every.Single.Thing. About them.

They are a true testament of our culture. My analogy here today is going to be why amusement parks are like life.  Or maybe how we think our life should be, but it isn't.

1)  Everything is over-priced.  From the ticket to get in to the drinks to the t-shirts to the food.  It seems ridiculous to spend that type of money on a one day activity.  Maybe if it's a special treat, but not something you can do all the time.

BUT, entertainment comes at a price.  If you want something/someone to entertain you, you should pay for it.  After all, we all are in business to make money.

2)  The lines are long to get to ride the good rides.  Everyone else wants to ride the good ride too.  Whom can blame them, the good rides are fun.

Getting what you want takes patience.  In the rest of life, we usually give up, just before we get something we have been waiting for.  If all these other people are waiting, shouldn't we wait too?  (That's not usually the case).

3)   The ride is over really fast.  The anticipation has been great.  Then suddenly you are back in the real world.

There are all these things we want in life:  to get married, to buy a house, to travel, to have kids (or not), to have a career, to...... (name your moment) - then it's over before you know it.  You get one/all/some/none of those things, then you are to the next phase.  

4)  The "rush" lasts a really long time.  The adrenaline high you get from riding the ride, lets you enjoy the moment for a while.  (Now we understand why there are drug addicts in this world).

The endorphins keep going.  You accomplish goals.  It's satisfying and makes you understand why you keep doing #1,2,3 over and over again.  For all of it.  We continue to go stand in line. 

My youngest son and I went to the local amusement park on Sunday.  He had a season pass - and a coupon for a discount ticket.  He finally agreed I could go with him (as I know it's not cool to hang out with your mom, but I truly do love roller coasters).

We don't go until late in the day after his hockey practice.  My favorite ride was not working when we got there.  I was bummed.  We went to another ride.

The wait was FOREVER.  (What, am I 14??).  We finally got on the ride.  It was fun, but really, I can't even tell you the name of the ride. Just as we were about to get on - in the last (BEST) seat, these two kids come get in our seats.  I'm like "What the heck???" The girl working the ride said, "They must have had an Exit Pass or something".  "Huh?".  I don't even ask.  We just wait another round.  Sometimes you get bumped in life.

We then go, to the "BrainDrain" - it's basically a circle, that you go forward, then backwards.  Then forward - just a little bit further, then backwards, then round and round and round.  Both forward and backwards.

We stood in line for what seems like forever.  We are getting on the ride. As we are sitting down, they close the park for the bigger rides; Lighting was spotted within 10 minutes of the park.

Seriously?  All that time - now it was wasted.

We were told we could stand there and wait.

Yes, you can stand there and wait in life.  And what you always wanted will open up for you.

OR

You can ask for an "Exit Pass"

Still unsure of what an "Exit Pass" was, I asked for one.  I guess it is for situations like this, when there is a delay, beyond their control - and you can come back, and skip the line - you just get to get on the ride.

We got an Exit Pass - it was good for 4 people.  There were only two of us.

We nearly left the park.  (It's easy to quit)

Instead, my dear teenage son rode the swings with me. We ate corny dogs, then the big rides were open again.  (Patience - or distractions in life once again).

Technically, when you are given an Exit Pass, it's only good for the ride you didn't get to ride. That makes sense.  It's a do-over.  We all deserve those.

Our conversation:

"Let's do this.  What ride do you really want to ride? I said to my son.  "The Twister".  "I really want to ride the "Mind Eraser", and well, we have to ride the "Brian Drain" - as that is where we were able to get the Exit Pass."  

We will start at the Mind Eraser, as that is the #1 ride and use our pass.  We will then go to the Twister - as that line won't be so long.  Then if the park is still open, we will do the Brain Drain.

We go to the Mind Eraser - as I said, my favorite all time ride.  You sit there, but there are no sides - no front.  I guess you kind of hang there.  Only when you go through the exit, well, you get to pick your seat.  We rode first seat.  She didn't take our pass.

From there we go to the Twister - through the Exit once again.  This time we hand over our pass. The teenager looks at the ticket and says "This is for four people". "There are only two of us", I reply. She says, "Well, use it for one more ride".  And hands it back to us.  (there are breaks in life)

We go back to the BrainDrain.  They take our pass this time. It's okay - it was over due.  In fact, we had said, if we don't have to give it up this time, we need to pay it forward to some others to enjoy for at least one ride.

It was then time to go home.

We know that sometimes in life, people cut you off.  It can be annoying, but as usual, there is something better in store.

Friends like that

One of the quotes recently surfacing from Robin Williams:

I used to think the worst thing in life was to end up all alone, it's not. The worst thing in life is to end up with people that make you feel all alone.

That quote stung when I read it. I think of so many people whom stay in "friendships" or maybe they are called "situations"or even "relationships" because they don't know how to get out. They don't understand the power of true friendships. They don't understand the situation they are in is worse than the opportunities available.  (Yoo Hoo, Peter Pan, this would be you).

I have incredible friends. Period.

Months can pass. In fact, months on months - making that years, but that doesn't change our friendships. We understand our friendships.

One one of the things you learn later on, friend the "real" friends.

The friends you care so much that they don't care.  (I hope that makes sense)  The friends whom don't care you act like an idiot, but will throw you in the car, because they know, next week, you will do the same. (And, you won't remind them what you did for them weeks or years ago. You both know it doesn't really matter).

Yes, it's easy to hang out with convenient people - those people in our everyday surroundings. Even when at our core base, we aren't comfortable. Most people try to ignore the feeling.

Maybe it's not the "popular" person.

The person whom doesn't "conform" to society. "They" don't fit "in".

Or friends that understand my life doesn't really fit "in to the norm". It sorta does. It sorta doesn't. But what is most important - I'm comfortable with the way my life looks (most of time - none of us are, all time - we only substitute it with STUFF).

My friends are old. My friends are young. My friends have kids. My friends don't have kids. Some understand, when I say I'm happy to go to the party, but I'm staying there - they don't blink an eye. Some don't understand - why would you stay here?

I have friends caught up in the "fake friend" world. Sure, it's fun. I've been there.

There are trips. Stories. Adventures. Prizes. Then at the end of the night, you are by yourself with a bunch of people whom are also alone with other people. But I figured it out over a decade ago, "it's worse to be with someone and be alone then it will EVER be to be alone."

People whom don't understand what it means when you get a call in the middle of the night for an emergency. Not an emergency of the fake kind, but the real kind.

The kind that drive 500 miles to pick up their dog. The dog that can can stay with them for 3 months.Whom might die. She's almost twelve. The kind whom will undertake the moment and embrace it. The ones that know what to do.

The friend whom stands in the parking lot and cries.  Because, you understand everything changes from this moment on.

My friends, they understand a world where you can be lonely with other people. People whom understand a change is worth it all. A world where it might end up being shorter, but will be more complete.

My friends are real. Real people whom tell you a funny story - and it makes your day. And really, for some reason, she's not your "real friend",  you might not even know her name, but SO authentic with you, why of course she is your friend. Real people.

Because, we don't have friends who make us feel all alone. No matter the age.

We have friends whom make us feel whole.  We have friends like that.

Perspective

All it takes is a getaway. 

At least for me.  

I was faking it all summer.  Pretending to try really hard.  I'm not a good pretender.  I'm authentic.  In everything I do.

Pretending I wasn't miserable not being in Hawaii for the summer.  So, I went.

Then, I came back.

I arrived Saturday morning - well rested from a first class ticket home.  I came straight home and went to straight to bed.  

Waking up at 12:30.  I called a couple of friends and caught up.  Doing some chores and "trying to re-enter".  As re-entry is not always easy.

There was a "Blues & Brews Festival" in the neighborhood on Saturday night.  I put on my beach dress, my flip flops and didn't straighten my hair.  

There was humidity.  The music was great.  I ran into a bunch of friends.  (I was there with one friend).  

Finally, at 9:00, I was the walking dead.  I made my way home.

It was a beautiful night.  Good friends.  Good music.  Perfect Weather.  

My how this place now seems so nice.  Sometimes all we need is perspective.

Of course it was Jack

My first Tuesday on Oahu, I went to go paddling.

I was staying about 40 minutes from downtown.  I don't spend 20 minutes in the car on a normal basis, much less 40.

There is a Canoe Group in Oahu (actually there are many)  - and I found a recreational one near Waikiki. There wasn't one closer to me, or at least not one that I found.

SO, here is me - driving 40 minutes to an hour ONE WAY to go paddle  (I used to travel over an hour to go ski on Saturdays - so that girl still lives in me when she finds something she enjoys)

I get to Waikiki in the middle of the afternoon.  I find where I'm supposed to be at 5:30pm.  I go park and find the beach.

This is a really beautiful beach.  BUT, it's crowded.  I'm whiny.  I'm hot.  I just spent an hour in the car trying to find this place.  I'm spoiled. (Don't even get me going about finding parking!)

In the water.  Then reading my book.  Back in the water.

I think it's time for a beer.

I walk to Duke's - which is a great place in a nice hotel right on the water.  I sit there for a bit, chatting with the guys next to me.  Then another man on the other side comes and sits down.

He SOUNDS just like Jack Nicholson.  He's thinner though.  We start chatting.  (Of course we do).  I'm still in kind of a whiny mood.

"Why would you live here?  People should just live in LA.  There is traffic.  You are closer to everything.  And there is the Ocean."  I say.  (As I said, I was feeling whiny).  The man on the bar stool replies " Look kid, I live in LA, this place is nothing like it".

Mind you, this man has on a pair of khaki shorts, a collared shirt and a ball cap.

We chat for a bit.  He tells me of a couple good hikes I need to go on.  (And he says, "When your friends you are staying with don't want to take you on the hike "because it's too touristy, tell them you are going anyway". )  (BTW, we went on those hikes - more to come)

We talk for a bit more.

The whole time I'm arguing in my head "This is Jack Nicholson."; "No, it's not".

Then I stand to leave.  "I'm going to paddle now.  Paddling makes me VERY happy.".Then, he says, "I got your tab".  I reply "Thank you. I really do appreciate it."

He looks at me.  His right eyebrow arches, he replies, "You enjoy yourself".......




PS - The next day, I GOOGLE Jack - all the things he mentioned about him were exactly the same as the man I was talking to at the bar.

PSS. - My friends say, "You made his day - You didn't recognize him."

PPSS - Thanks for the drinks Jack..........

Calling it a day

At some point in life, you have to stop doing what you are doing.  Stop thinking that by doing the same thing over and over again, you are going to get different results.

We all know this.  If you do the same thing over and over - you get the same results.

Sometimes, we do the same thing, yet we tell ourselves it's going to be different.

Three days ago, I changed my direct flight from Honolulu to Denver to a flight from Kona to Denver.  I switched days.  I was going to stay a few extra days.  

Then suddenly there was a hurricane headed this way.  Then there was another one also headed this way.  

Suddenly, it's Thursday.  Maybe I should just go home.

This SOOOO goes against everything I do in my life.  Go home????  Take an earlier flight?  Whom are we kidding?  Since when do I take an earlier flight?

(And the real irony of the situation?  The only TWO people whom asked if I got an earlier flight out?  My mom and dad.  Maybe they should get to know their daughter a little better (joking!) - or I should pay attention to what my sons really want in their lives)

I cancelled my flight to Kona.  After all, really, the reason I wanted to be there?  So, I could swim my Ironman course.  So, I could paddle with my crew.  So, I could give a little girl I love a hug.

All things I couldn't do with the storm pending. Beaches were closed and the little girl can't ask to see me.

SO, today, I'm going to call it a day.

I cancelled my flight to Kona.  They re-booked me on my flight from Honolulu to Denver. Direct.

It's time to get back to Denver.

Something important happened though.  I got all the way out here - and I miss the Big Island because it still takes my breath away.  I thought it might have been that hunky Hawaiian I met a few years ago.  But really it's this place.

Sometimes you just have to call it a day.

A hui ho Hawaii - A hui ho...

Hawaiian Hospitality

There is something about "Southern Hospitality" you don't really understand unless you have been to the South - or have been to Texas.  As people from Texas don't consider themselves part of the South.  They are from Texas.

Most Southerners/Texans welcome anyone and everyone.  You are stranded on the side of the road?  Here, let me call my brother-in-laws cousin and he will send his next door neighbor over to get you.

You are hungry?  Let me feed you.  Let me send you on your way with food too.

You are lost?  Head South, then make a right at Miss Mary's barn, then you will be back on the interstate.

I'm not kidding.  It's that friendly in the South.

Todd has been stationed here in Oahu for almost two years now.  He goes back and forth on if he likes this place or not.  He likes looking at the ocean, but he's not a water boy.  He likes the mountains.  He misses his horses and hunting.

I've told him over and over the last two weeks, what he is really missing is that "sense of community".  He doesn't "belong" here.

He hasn't been hunting.  He hasn't been riding.  He hasn't been roping.  He doesn't really like being in the Army.  He needs to find a group he can do these things with.

I don't blame him, I'd be pretty miserable too.

Then, yesterday, a funny thing happened.

He went BACK to the store (after I had already been), to buy more oil to deep fry a turkey.  (I stayed at the house working).  While in line, the lady behind him asked if Todd could help her grandson load some ice cream onto the belt.  "Of course" he replied.

She had on a T-shirt that had something to do with roping.  (horses and cows).  Turns out she is a local and lived here her entire life.  They start talking.

Side note here:  While Todd is no blood relation to me, I was at the hospital when he was born. I've known him his entire life.  If I were a guy, I wouldn't believe he wasn't mine.  We are still unsure if he's not really mine - somehow.  We both have that "I've never met a stranger gene" and we have this uncanny resemblance to each other.

A bit later, he pulls up in the driveway and gets out of the car.  "I met some new friends".  "Great", I reply. Then a truck pulls into the driveway too.  A lady, a little bit older than me, and her grandson get out of the truck.

Turns out she lives about two miles from his house.  Has 4 acres.  A couple horses.  Some chickens.  There are three houses on the land as all the family lives together.  She has 4 kids.  Or 6 six.  The number changes a couple of times (but I get that as I don't think I could really tell you how many kids I have in addition to the two whom I gave birth).  (It doesn't really matter to me). And 5 grand-kids.

(Come to find out she is 3 years older than me - more on this later)

I introduce myself to the little boy as "Auntie Leasa" as you don't say "Mr or Mrs" out here.  Everyone is your "Auntie or Uncle".

We end up at their land.  Todd checks out the horses.  She takes us to this great locals beach.  Tells us if we have any problems with locals tell them "Auntie Bessie" says we can come here".

It was her sons birthday, and hers tomorrow.  She later invites us over to the house for dinner.

Of course, we go.  We bring the deep-fried turkey that didn't get fried until the hour before we left for her house.

When I got out of the car, the little boy (Marcus - with blonde hair, green eyes and Hawaiian skin) jumps off the front porch and says "AUNTIE!!!!!!"  and gives me a huge hug.

There are over 20 people there.  Kids, grand-kids, other ohana (family) and us haloe's from the mainland. Horse back riding, chasing chickens and lots of good food.

We get in the car to go home and Todd gives me a look.  Then he says, "Those are some good people".

And, THAT my friend is what you have been missing.  A little Hawaiian Hospitality.

Alcohol and Armpits

When Todd picked me up at the airport, with a fresh lai in his hand - he remarked "This baggage claim area smells like booze."

Not, "You smell like booze", but the whole group of people on your plane, smell a little ripe..... A bit like alcohol and armpits.

We had all spent close to 24 hours together.  I know more about the people on that plane than I normally find out about people.  Granted, we all were a little nervous. 

We were all in the same clothes we had on the day before.  Some people, Denver had been their lay-over. They had been traveling even further.

So, some of our funny quotes from the trip:

• Is he your son or your boyfriend?  (I didn't quite know how to answer that:)
• The lady at Wal-Mart:  "Is she your girlfriend?"  (she asked this to Todd when I said I was visiting - she made my day!
• Your Aunt is really hot
• If you say that again, I will carve out your eyes with a spoon
• She is not hot, she is my Aunt.
• It's 3:30 on the East Coast, I think we can have a beer
• Aunt Leasa, thank you for coming to see me.  

Wait, the last one isn't funny - it's the truth.

Can I keep ONE?

The sweet boy I'm staying with in Hawaii, I've known for his whole life.  I've just met his sweet girlfriend, but she is family now too.

Granted I'm now friends with her, in fact, she started calling me Aunt Leasa from day 1.  Works for me.  

Todd, the boy, grew up in South Texas.  Hunting, fishing, etc on ranch - in the country.  When he was 5, he was ring bearer in my wedding.  He couldn't understand why I was marrying Brian, as Brian didn't know how to rope a cow.

My oldest son has now become interested in hunting. He's been on a few turkey hunting trips, but would like to go on a deer trip.

Todd and Duncan were texting and talking about guns.  What Duncan needs, etc.  Then Duncan just calls Todd.  Back and forth - discussing guns, bullets, seasons, etc.

I send Duncan a text, "Do I get to keep any of my guy friends or are they all yours now?"  Duncan replies, "Nope, they are all mine now"........

I am

This island is busy.

As in busy roads, busy people.  Not much of the "Aloha Spirit".  It seems there are more tourists and military personnel than locals.

There are locals, they just seem a bit more hardened than the ones I know in Kona.  There are no "Aloha's" or "Mahalo's".  Just hello and thank you.

Maybe they are just a bit more like the mainland - a bit more hardened from all the people coming and going.

Don't get me wrong, I have met nice people.  These military guys and gals protecting our country - they are incredible people.  I love hearing their stories.  I even got to go on base and see bullet holes in a building from when we were attacked.  These kids know their history.

To get ANYWHERE, you spend at least 30 minutes in the car.  I know that's not a lot to some people, but for me I don't really travel much out of a 20 minute zone, so to spend an hour in the car is upserd for me.

Today, we were at the North Shore (and it is GORGEOUS, by the way), then I drive Todd back to his house.  I then leave for canoe club.  It's 20 miles.  This equals an hour drive.

What am I doing?

I'm driving over an hour to go to canoe?  Have I lost my mind?

I get to canoe club.  I'm hot.  I'm actually kinda whiny - good thing I was alone.  Seriously, I even thought of just going to the beach to swim and not going to canoe club.

I waited it out.  This group is a bit more serious than my last group.  There are also actually people my age in this group.  There were teenagers there.

We get in the canoes.  We paddle down a "canal" in Waikiki - about two miles.  Then you make a turn, and the ocean is there.  On Tuesday, we got to that point, then we turned around.

Truth be told, if I had never paddled before, I would have never gone back.  It was okay.  The people were good, it was actually just another activity I would have participated in.

But, today, we got to keep going.

The next thing I know, we were headed to the "third buoy" from the marina.  The double I was on (holding 12 paddlers) made it out first.  All other canoe's were to turn around when the first one made it to the third buoy.

I am in the middle of the ocean.  You could also see the surfers in Waikiki.  That is what the picture books are made of.

Suddenly, my canoe was the first to turn around.  On my right was downtown Waikiki - with the sun glimmering off of all the high rise building.  Shining so bright with a beautiful reflection.

On the left, the sun was beginning it's descent into the ocean.

Then, as I was paddling harder than I ever have before, to catch a swell.  I am then paddling harder.  Part of a team to catch that perfect "push" back into the harbor.

Straight ahead is Diamond Back.

Part of something that was more than even me.  As I am now a part of pictures all the tourists were taking.

I use to be one of them - watching the outriggers in the sunset.  Now, I am on the right side of the camera.

Fendi or Flip Flops?

Designer  brands are not really my thing.  They might have been when I was in about 7^th grade – and a couple of times in between, but never this “over needing urge” to own “Fendi shoes” or a “Gucci handbag”.

Yes, I like nice things.  Quality things.  Things that will last.  Those things don’t always have a “brand name” on them.

I’m not a shopper.  While in Oahu this week, everyone keeps telling me of the “great shopping”.  “I don’t like to shop”, I reply.  They look at me like I have two heads.  “I know, I know”.  I’d rather be DOING something.  In fact, ANYTHING, but shopping.

Once upon a time, I did shop.  Shopping with my Granny – we would spend all day.  We would go to lunch. We would have our make-up done.  We couldn't go home until the trunk was full.

Those days were fun. 

But even then, it wasn't to buy the “best name brand” – it was to buy something I would wear, something in style and made well. 

To me, that means, a couple of trendy items, a couple of staples (well made “core” items”) and made a name brand purse or pair of shoes. Well, maybe not name brand shoes.  Maybe a name brand blouse and comfortable shoes.

I would have worn stylish shoes back in the day.  I still wear fun boots in the winters in Denver – some days.  But mainly, I love my non-name brand flip flops. 

My favorite flip flops were from my first summer in Kona.  They were made of recycled tires – they were supposed to never wear out.  They didn't – the strap broke though.

Then I received two pairs of flip flops last summer.  They were “custom” flip flops – there were words cut out of the bottom.  So, when you walked across the beach, you left a trail.  One pair stamped “Follow” on one shoe “Me” on the other shoe.  The other pair?  “Aloha” (Hello or welcome or love) and “A Hui Ho”  (until next time)

Today, I was on the North Shore of Oahu watching the turtles swim.  They were HUGE.  As in, the two I was near, were the size of as your cooking range.  The head was probably the size of a football.  (Mind you this was in the open ocean – not a theme park or a “planned excursion”)

After swimming with the turtles for bit, I went back up to my chair to sit under the tree.  A bit later, it was time to leave.

Where are my shoes?  (This really isn't surprising that I can’t find my shoes, probably also the reason I think $700 shoes are ridiculous and so are the people whom wear them).

I was down to the beach to see if I left them near the turtles. 

And as the turtle today swam away with just ONE of my flips flops; I knew it was going to be okay.  

As, the bottom of that flip flop had printed on it “Aloha”, leaving me the one that was stamped “A hui ho”  (until next time).

A different kinda place

The island of Oahu is much different than the Big Island.  (Really, the 'Big Island' is Hawaii, but everyone seems to think of Hawaii as all the islands rather than just one)  All of them would be "The Hawaiian Islands".

Oahu is an island.  Honolulu is a city on the island.  The population of the island is almost a million people. Only every branch of the military has a base here and I'm not sure if our service men/women are counted in that population.  As many of them don't claim their base as their residency, but "where they are stationed".

This place seems much bigger than the Big Island - but it has nothing to do with the size of the island, but the amount of people.  (as I think the Big Island has less than 100,000 people on a space twice as big).

Really, this place is like Los Angeles, only water surrounds all sides, not just one.  There are mountains. There is vast foliage and tons of highways. Okay, really, it's the same one, but it's very confusing and busy.  (To me, it's like LA)

So I'm talking to this man today while I was in Waikiki - and I said, "If this is your favorite island", you might as well live in LA - as it is easier to get places"  He told me about the different hikes I should go on.  He told why he has a house here and in LA. And I will, and I keep exploring other places.

The "Aloha Spirit" is different here too.  Not as many people speak Hawaiian to you.

I went to Canoe Club tonight.  First of all - I had to drive an hour to get to a recreational paddling group.  (In Waikiki) and they were really nice.  A diverse group, much younger than my other group.  Thursday night group (as it's the first Thursday of the month) - is the same, there is a group "dinner", instead of breakfast.  They are getting pizza, instead of potluck.

I really am not trying to compare the differences, just point them out.

And, I'm still not sure the man I was talking to today wasn't Jack Nicholson.  Maybe.  Maybe not.  In Kona, it wouldn't have come up whom he was.  It didn't come up today either.  Other than the bartender said, "Hey, Jack".  But our conversation about this place, we never introduced ourselves.......  Now that's a bit different.......

Just a scratch

I wasn't even on the island for two hours before I was in the water.

I don't think I was even in the water for 20 minutes, the first time.  When I got out, dried off - was having a beer, I looked down and there was dried blood on the top of my right foot.

Hmmm?

Nothing hurt.  I wonder what that was from.  I wash my foot off.  There is a one inch scratch across the top.  Not deep at all.

Pele!!!!  I told you last year, I understand these are your islands.  I'm just here to enjoy them with you.

Thanks for the reminder.  May we always know our place in life.

Like I was dying

No, this trip to Hawaii wasn’t planned.  At least not well in advanced.  It was planned for about two whole weeks.  No one knew.

My boys were going to Texas.  My ex-husbands Aunt (whom I somehow got in the divorce) has breast cancer and is having an operation on Wednesday, but she had a whole group to help her. That being said, no kids, I work from home, no need to help family out at the moment……hmmm, what the hell am I going to do????

I’m going to go see a little boy in Hawaii

Only the little boy is 26. I babysat him many, many years ago.  The boys were put in a car to Texas.  Yes, they knew.  Then I told the grandparents they were in the car with.  They my dad’s wife told her sister, and well, we know how his works……

Maybe we need to hop over to the Big Island for a couple of days…….Maybe.

He has tons of stuff planned; he’s on leave for a week.  I’m staying two.

Friday morning, I get on my flight.  United.  Direct flight from Denver to Honolulu.  I’m not sure whom is more excited – him or me.

We sit on the runway for over an hour before they even tell us anything.  Apparently, there was something wrong with the cargo area – they couldn’t get the temperature under control.  There was a dog down there.  We went back to the gate.  They fixed it.  (The little boy I’m going to see told me to just put the dog on another plane – Actually, he told me to shoot the dog, but I wasn’t sure if I could actually write that).

We pushed out from the gate again.  They ran all the tests again.  We sat on the runway for another hour.  

We finally took off. 

Only, when you looked at the flight map on the TV, we were headed North to Wyoming.  Hmmm….. 

Usually, when you depart Denver, you head West.  Then South.  Towards the Ocean. 

Something wasn’t right.

The airplane was hot.  It wouldn’t cool off.  We heard a bang.  Then we smelled smoke.

THEN, our flight screen showed our flight time was only 20 minutes.  We were landing in Salt Lake City.

They then shut the tv’s down.  They shut the lights off.

We were over the mountains.  It was bumpy. As in big drops.  It took us over 45 minutes to get to Salt Lake City – and this was from the time they told us we were 15 minutes out of Salt Lake City.

We landed.

The plane was greeted by two fire trucks and another emergency vehicle.  The only saving point was they let us go to the gate.  I figured if it was really bad, they wouldn’t have let us pull up to the gate.  Dammit though, we didn’t get to slide down the slide!

Heck, I’m not in Hawaii, but I have incredible friends in Salt Lake City.

Richie came to pick me up.  We stopped and bought me a tooth brush – as, they didn’t give us our luggage.

Delayed a day.  Changed forever.

There are no more maybes in my life.  I’m either in or out.  Although, I’ve probably been pretty close to this way of life for a bit.

Not a good month for 777’s.

Because, when your plane catches on fire at 25,000 feet, and you actually get to land – and you survive…

THEN, you thrive.  (I first put in “get to thrive”, but there is no “get to” in life.  It’s just do”   I said this was my year to thrive.)

If you thought I lived my life with reckless abandonment before, you haven’t seen nothing…….  Just saying…….

Oh, Denver

I tried.

Really, I did. Denver, you are a beautiful city. A magnificent place on this Earth with incredible scenery, perfect weather and wonderful people.

Denver, Colorado is one of the most incredible cities to visit. To live in. To grow up in. We have four seasons.  We have a "city". We have any outdoor activity you could possibly want - year around.  Pick one.  (And by pick one, I mean a sport or a season). You can ski and golf on the same day.  (snow or water) What is your poison?

There are no bugs. There is no humidity. And holy hillbilly, pot is even legal. (Although truly, this makes me sad - as Colorado is now known across the WORLD for this - doesn't matter that we have everything else).

I HAVE so TRIED this summer.

• Bike rides
• Red Rock Concerts
• Hikes - look at this backdrop?  It's beautiful.
• Camping

Okay, well maybe, I haven't tried that hard.  But I pretended really hard that I tried really hard.

Just shows you, pretending will never get you there.

I will always love you, but you see, a few years ago, I cheated on you. Not only did I cheat - When I cheated, I fell in love.  That's the problem with having an affair - you can't always go back.

I'm sorry.  It sounds trite. It might sound pitiful, but I will always love you.

My love for something else does not diminish what we shared. I will treasure our love always.  I'm grateful for the love.

Because, I do truly LOVE you. I'm just not sure how much I like you.

If it's okay, I'd like to be friends. Friends whom understand we can have each other, yet, love other places too.

For now, as we transition into this next stage of our life, I would like to see you more than anyone else, but I think we both know it's time our relationship changes. Please understand. We've been faking it for a while.

Oh, Denver, as much I love you,

I love another place more.  

As much as I would like to apologize for my actions, I can't.  You will always have my heart, but another place came along and stole my soul.

And it's time I pay my soul a visit......