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........
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Friday, November 14, 2014
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.
Wednesday, November 12, 2014
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.
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.
Wednesday, November 5, 2014
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.
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.
Monday, October 27, 2014
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.
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.
Thursday, October 23, 2014
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.....
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.....
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
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.
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.
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