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.....

Next

I knew these years were "transitional". Knew, this period of revolving my life around my kids was slowly changing.

I knew when they got their drivers licenses my life was going to change. (When was I going to actually read my books if I didn't have to sit and wait in a parking lot for a practice to end?)

When was I supposed to get my errands done if I didn't plan to do it while they were at practice?

I knew changes were coming.

I knew I was about to transition to the next stage of all of our lives.

It's true what "they say" - this time does go fast. Not while you are in it. Not day to day. But at the end of the day, it's hard to believe I have kids entering their senior and junior years in high school.

Bazillions of other parents have made this transition to the next stage of their lives. It's not just the kids, it's us parents too.

Easy transition preparing us for the next one.

Now that I'm here, I have to figure some things out.

I can sit and read a book if I want.

The laundry will still be there.

There is time for a class. I'm thinking a Spanish class. I'm thinking about what is next.....

Like versus Love

What is the difference between liking something and LOVING something. Someone. Something.....

We all LIKE things.

I like you. You like me. I like LOTS of things.

Tomatoes
Ferris Wheels (Although I hated those as a child)
My new to me car
Being able to work from home
My toenails painted "sea blue"

There are lots of things I think.

What do I love?

A good song
My breath being taken away
My sons
My family
A morning on the ocean

The lists aren't in a particular order.

We like LOTS of things.

Tell me the last thing that took your breath away.......

No, this isn't Hollywood

Only, I'm not settling for chips. Nor salsa. Nor cake.

There is like and there is love.

Mr. Big

There was a television series out a while ago. Actually, it was over 15 years ago now. Called "Sex in the City."

It was about four single women in their late twenties/early thirties and their dating lives in New York City.

When the show was on the air:

1. It was only on HBO. 
2. We did not have HBO.
3. I didn't get the show.
4. I was married.
5. I had two young kids.

I caught up with the series after I got divorced. It made a little  lot more sense. 

The show did a good job of making each girl just enough relate-able to you. You could understand their point of view, even though they were all very different.

One of the characters - the writer whom was the "voice" of the show had an on again off again boyfriend with a guy they referred to as Mr. Big. Later he just became "Big". As in, "I'm having dinner with Big tonight."

The series ran for years. We didn't learn "Bigs" name until the series finale.

That's okay. We didn't need to know his name. (If you name the puppy, then you must take it home).

We knew the drama. The heartache. The fact he was successful, then married, then not married and forever in love with our writer.

So today, I'm at the DMV registering my new car. I'm thinking what a grown up thing to do.

I leave. I'm in the car. 

My phone beeps.

I don't look at texts in the car, but I do when I stop at lights. 

Holy cow,  "I'm near Cherry Creek today, can you do lunch?"

This is my Mr. Big. I had not heard from him in a while - I think it's been a couple of years. I've reached out to him for work stuff, but we really haven't kept in touch.

No. It's not Pan. It's not Peter Pan either.

It's the grown up man whom I know and love.

He's has a high ranking position with a Fortune 1000 company. He's married. He has three kids. We met in Vail over 10 years ago. He moved away from Denver over 8 years ago. For some reason, we've never lost touch. 

Timing is always everything in life. Meaning both today and in our lives. 

I had no appointments scheduled until 2pm. Yes, I can meet you for lunch. 

In my grown up car. With my grown up clothes. I went to lunch with my grown-up friend. 

We spoke of our lives. Our kids. My dating life or my not dating life. Work and business and things we still enjoy 

He had a plane to catch. Another meeting to attend.

Making my day knowing my Mr. Big had missed me too.


(The best quote of the day when we were talking about my dating life - "So, besides "Denver's Most Eligible Bachelor", whom are we going to date.") - I'll let you know soon.....

My turn

For me, cars are "an ends to a mean"

Meaning, the sole reason I have a car, is so I can get things done without completing relying on my body or public transportation to help get me there.

I'm a not a "car" person.

Yes, I like to "like" what I'm driving. Meaning, I don't want to drive something unreliable. Or ugly. Or that doesn't work correctly. Or uncomfortable.

But other than that, I don't really care.

If you don't get the irony in this situation, you just don't get me.

I've had the same car for 9 years now. It's 11 years old. It's good. It's reliable. It smells like a hockey bag. It's dirty. It has dings on it. It has 125,000 miles on it. (which actually isn't many).  It's been great.

In the last year and a half, I've been to the DMV (Department of Motor Vehicles) 5 or 6 times. A used car for the boys, temporary plates, permanent plates. two permits, two drivers license. (Thank goodness when mine expired, they allowed me to do this online).

Many had asked if Nolan was getting his own car. I decided the value of my car was just a little above his brothers. So yes, he was getting his own car.

Only it's my old car.

It's my turn.

The boys can have those cars. I'll start looking for one for me.

Where do I start? I haven't had to do this in a very long time. Where do I always start?

:-)

Craigslist

I pretended to start looking in June. Upon my first search, I found the car I wanted.

We went back and forth. I tried to get him lower, as there we a couple things needing fixed and I was going to be gone for the summer.

Finally, I told him I was gone until August. Let me know in August if it is still available.

I received a text a few weeks ago asking if I was still interested. I said yes, but I needed to get back. Needed to get it checked out and we'd go from there.

We did all that last week.

I picked up my convertible today. It's a "retractable roof" - meaning it's a hard-top when then top isn't down.

It's sweet. It's white. (Because, I didn't know cars came in any other color).

The boys have been told they can borrow it for special occasions. (The first day of school, is not a special occasion. The last day, might be).

It only has 25,000 miles on it. It's my turn.

More irony: I own three cars now. I work at home.

My leg

Get into the ocean.

It's cleansing. It's the only place to be.

Only, on you last day, you climb into the boat and the woman in front you of you says,

You have a staph infection on your leg.

What are you talking about?

There are a couple of spider bites that have become infected on my leg. There are no venomous spiders on the island. 

Long story short:

I have a staph infection going up and down up leg. I've been on antibiotics since I got home from the island.

I've gained 15 pounds. As I am sure, these antibiotics are doing what they are supposed to be doing.

My legs.

They look great.

My legs are healed.

Only one little spot, that still looks a cigarette  burn.

Much like the rest of my life, I'm almost there.

I'm taking my left leg with me.