Writers are Crazy

Think of:

• Hemingway  (actually if you are female, read The Paris Wife - you can see her side)
• Hunter S Thompson
• J.D. Salinger
• Virginia Woolf
• Jenny Lawson

When you read their works, my first thought is "these people are messed up".

Then, I started to write......

And, I joined their club.

(And yes, Jenny, when you read this-we can include you with the rest of the list).

I'm an extrovert, whom is also an introvert. I like people. I like to be around people. I also love my alone time. The time, all by myself.

I write. 

Tonight, after having dinner with a friend, I had 14 million 3 hundred and 66 thousand ideas for my articles.

By the time I got home, I don't even think I had one.

If I was one of the people listed above - I would have pulled over to the side of the road and made notes.

This is half the article of what would be half way decent. Of course, if I had pulled to the side of the road.

Thank goodness for editors.

Thank goodness for the people whom keep us on our path.

Thank goodness for the people whom understand at the depths of the ocean, we are totally worth the crazy......

Career Woman

The business trip was fine.

I went shopping with my Granny and bought new clothes.

I flew to a city where I had never been.

I rented a car. I drove to an office with directions from our modern technology.

I checked into a hotel. I had dinner by myself.

I met an old friend - whom I had never "met" before.

I was bored out of my mind.

The office was fine. The people were fine. Everything was FINE.

What I realized though. I don't miss the career  corporate woman I used to be. Don't miss her ONE LITTLE BIT.

I don't miss:

•  the corporate dinners. 
• The fake friendships (Not all corporate friendships are fake, but most of them are temporary). 
• Being in a strange city and it doesn't really matter. You are at an airport, a hotel and an office.
• Needing to "judge" my life by my career.

I am very thankful for my career. Thankful I chose a path that allowed me flexibility. Freedom. And knowledge to know my life is not defined by "what I do".  

Oops, my life IS defined by "what I do" - only it doesn't involve the hours I spend earning a living......

P.S - The Career/Corporate woman doesn't know how to write

A business trip

From 1993 - 2001, I traveled for business a lot.

Well, my definition of a lot.

I got to visit many cities. For many clients. For many reasons.

On someone's dime.

Once again, I GOT TO TRAVEL.

I didn't HAVE to travel.

For me, it was an escape. Looking back, of course, it was something out of the routine. Out of the day to day.

Cleveland. Minn/St Paul. San Antonio. I know exciting cities. But then, Los Angeles. Phoenix. San Francisco. Chicago.

Places I got to go.

It's been 14 years since 9/11.

I was "stuck" in Laguna Beach California.

A place that changed my life. For no other reason than on September 12 2001 I woke up at the beach knowing I had the strength to carry me on to the next chapter in my life.

I arrived back to Denver on September 14, 2001. A Friday night.

An escort from the airport walked me to my car.

Which brings us to Monday. This coming Monday.

Monday, September 14, 2015

I leave on my first business trip since that day. (Yes, I've gone to see clients. Yes, I've traveled.). This is: the company books everything. This is the same place - yet further along.

I guess, I'm picking up where I left off.

Hell of a mid-crisis business trip,  if you ask me......

If you have to brag about it,

I've been trying new places. New restaurants. New "coffee shops". New places to meet.

We are all creatures of habit. It's easy that way.

You go to the same places. The wait staff knows you. You run into regular people you see and like. You know what to expect.

With that, come predictability.

Every once in a while, I pretend to try and mix things up.

Try a new place - on the opposite end of town. Do something out of the "ordinary" routine.

Only after doing this for about 3 weeks now. I had a realization.

This sucks.

The new places suck.

Maybe new places in my same neighborhood would be good, but I've been trying to go to "similar places" in a different neighborhood.

Dallas vs Houston

Aspen vs Vail

Honolulu vs Kona

The Tech Center vs Cherry Creek

What I've discovered about the "same places" in a different neighborhood is that it's the people are different.

Really they should be the same. Both are from the same socioeconomic status. They should be similar? Right?

To me, the cities on the left have "new money" the other "old money."

Not once, in a bazillion years has anyone I've ever met while out in Cherry Creek asked me what I do for a living. Yes, it comes up at some point. But you can have drinks, sometimes even dinner and all you have discussed is current events and what you like to do.

The tech center, it's usually the second question asked. "What do you do?"

WHAT DOES IT MATTER?

I swim. I paddle. I like to eat good food and I pretend to run. "Oh, you mean, How do I make a living?"

WHO CARES

I've tried going to different places.

Places you think you might mean some like minded people. People whom don't want to tell you about how much money they have in the bank or what kind of car they drive.

If you have to brag about it, you probably don't really have it......

It's OUR fault

My oldest child has been a bit lax in this whole "looking at colleges" process.

School is hard for him, but he tries. He challenging classes and he gets extra help. He has good grades - just not EXTRAORDINARY grades. The ACT/SAT, he just did "okay".

We have all known this his entire educational career.

He had ALL summer to register for the ACT again in September. The deadline was August 8th.

Guess what - he registered on August 7th. The only reason he is taking it again is because we filed a petition to get extra time on the tests.

I asked him all summer to register so I could mail in the requests - with all the doctors/teachers letters - to get extra time.

Not only did he not do it until the last minute, he had his step-mother help him. (A request I had denied him, because "I'm old enough to make my own decisions.")

Now that the test is in a week. We receive a letter TODAY stating the request has been denied. And if he would like to appeal, please allow 3 -4 weeks.

I told you so would not have been a good thing to say in this argument.

I asked him to reflect about the situation. I asked him what he was going to do now.

The reply, "WE really messed up."

"No", I replied, "This one is all yours."

He tried to tell me how we are now behind in applying for colleges and he doesn't know what WE are going to do.

Somehow, it's suddenly a WE.....

Twenty three days

This time it took 23 days.

23 days before I didn't want to get out of bed.

I've bought a car. The boys have started school. Hockey practices have begun (I'm not sure those really stopped, but I don't have to drive to them anymore and these are new teams).

AND, I'm BORED out of my freaking mind.

I've done dinners. Mani/Pedi's. Happy Hours. Bike rides. I have stuff planned for the next month on Wed/Thur nights. I'm going to Bronco games. I've booked a trip to Atlanta in a month.

AND, I'm BORED out of my freaking mind.

When I first arrived home years ago from Hawaii, I would lay (or is it lie in bed) in bed and be sad. This would be day two or so.

I've learned to put it off.

I've learned I to appreciate my life in Colorado.

This time, it took me twenty three days to wonder why the hell I'm here. Why I'm not in Hawaii.

Making progress

A priest, Leasa and Mike walk into a bar

It's the little things.

In life.

In thought.

In general.

It's the little things that always make the difference. We don't always pay attention to the little things. They slip by us. While we are chasing the "big" things.

The trick in life: pay attention to the little things you don't know are happening.

Years ago (in my adult life), I continual ran into the former head coach of the Denver Broncos. I swear, he must have thought I was stalking him. (Now looking back, maybe he was stalking ME??) 

I would run into him on the running trail. The 7-11. Elway's steakhouse. 

We would run into each other all the time. It was weird. And actually, until I just wrote this, I thought it was nothing but coincidence 

Tonight, I went out and had dinner by myself. I look over to the table next to me. It's Mike Shanahan (former Broncos coach, former DC coach - I think he was at George Bush's daughters wedding), whatever.

With a priest. (If Mom Frusco was there, she would have titled him "Father What a Waste"). He was SOOOOO very handsome.

I went to leave. I went to have my picture taken with them. I went to do a lot of things in life. But sometimes, you have to keep going.

I stopped at the table to say hi. 

I couldn't ask for the picture.

The picture of Father "What A Waste", me and Mike.

We all knew we had our moment.

The story is really good.

Bless you too, Father What A Waste.....