Between Random Planets

Moved to Facebook in Search of Delicious Ambiguity

Thanks for sharing years of memories during our travels!  We're officially moving to Facebook for our on-line socializing, and hope to see you there.

There will be, however, no Twitter.  I don't even return my voicemails in a timely manner -- I can't imagine how tight that electronic leash must be. 

Ciao, Oyasuminasai and farewell for now.

 

"I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity." 

~Gilda Radner

Have a Merry Christmas...Part Two

This time it's without the bad food and stinky hotel rooms associated with a desperate military Permanent Change of Station.  This "revisited" post from last Christmas is our fitting tribute to the adventures we experienced during our times of constant travel and recorded with as much accuracy as possible on Between Random Planets. 

It's a trip that brought us here to Denver, Colorado where more adventures await.  Please find us on our new digital domain via Facebook, where we can continue to share e-adventures.  It's been a sincere pleasure flying at this altitude with you -- our digital family of friends continue to keep us sane no matter where we land.

From December, 2007:

"Fall seven times, stand up eight."
~Japanese Proverb

It's been a long, nomadic month. 

We outraced one storm outside of Flagstaff, plowed into another one as we entered Colorado, kept each other awake and amused via cell phone between cars, shared multiple itty-bitty hotel rooms with two incredibly tolerant housepets, got lost in the suburbs, found our way through downtown Denver, went snowboarding at Keystone, found a townhome to rent, made friends, survived nightmarish military disbursement issues, and drop-kicked anyone who got in our way at the Commissary when it was time to food-shop for the home that we could finally call our own.

No, we don't have furniture yet.  That will be our day-after-Christmas present -- a household goods shipment arriving tomorrow bright and early from Ft. Collins (it arrived two weeks before we did).  Although the boxes aren't gift-wrapped,  we can't think of anything sweeter than tearing into boxes that have our own stuff inside of them.  For now, we've been getting very creative.  The removable seats from our PT Cruiser make great couches if you don't look at them directly.

There are geese, foxes, mallard ducks and (don't laugh) even the occasional beaver splashing about in Cherry Creek right behind our place -- and for that added Jurassic Park touch we've even got an indoor garden with a 25 foot ficus tree in our living room.  This tree is currently serving as our stand-in Christmas Tree until our artificial one arrives with the household goods the day after Christmas.  My friends with long memories and a taste for the absurd are rolling on the floor right now -- can we ever get a Christmas tree in our house (2005's Ode To My Artificial Christmas Tree) on the actual holiday?

No matter.  We're here, and we're home.  In retrospect, we've accomplished a lot in the 11 days since crossing the state line. We've got another random planet to discover, and nothing makes us happier. 

My brother sent the most beautiful powerpoint presentation to me this morning of last year's Holiday in the Keys....and it only served to remind us that miles don't mean squat when you have family and friends that you love.  Go have your adventures.  In this day and age, there are as many creative ways to communicate as there are ways to temporarily furnish a home with removable car parts.   

In no particular order of events, here's this year's Ode To Our Road Trip.  Have a Merry Christmas.

The Long Slow Tango to the Dark Side

Editor's Update.... much delayed since retrieving my spouse from Pensacola in March with hopes of creating a slightly more permanent homestead here in the Rockies.

We've gone to Facebook (a.k.a. "the dark side") so please track us down there for some bite-sized socializing.  We guarantee that our planets are still as random and absurd as always and we look forward to sharing orbits with you.  We will still post here on occasion and link it to Facebook.

So much has happened in the year that we've been here (See "A Year in Denver")  Multiple family visits, concerts, snowboarding, sunsets, social extravaganzas, political rallies, field trips, many graduations for my students at Anthem College and many interesting (ultimately unmentionable) quests for Rich in the bunker of Buckley Air Force Base. 

And, since it's been a year, I can't think of any more appropriate way to wrap Between Random Planets than to revisit the road trip that brought us here.  That will be our next post here, and the last one on BRP for awhile.  Enjoy the blast from the past and hope to see you on Facebook soon.

Just Try And Stop Me....

"Someone stop me....oh someone please just try and stop me!"
~Katharine Hepburn in Holiday (1938)

Two weeks and one prescient fortune cookie ago, I was waiting to leave Denver.  Yesterday, I finally left.  It was also my birthday, and I spent it doing one of my favorite things in the whole wide world -- shedding the surly bonds of earth.  Even though my airborne adventure came calling in the form of a smelly commercial airliner and was accompanied by the general smashing together of humanity in occasionally uncomfortable primal configurations, I was on my way to a certain kind of human bliss that I'd been missing for quite some time, indeed.

The run-up to these weeks included the manic processing of college coursework for my students in my absence (Student: "can't you just video conference the class in real-time while you're in Pensacola?"  Me: "No.  Nyet.  Negative, Negatory Good Buddy."  Then I cackled maniacally which probably made them wish for my early departure.  I really love teaching.)

Good things come to those who wait.  And wait.  On the overheated tarmac of Dallas/Ft.Worth's suddenly overpopulated runway, one hour from my Pensacola destination, our pilot shared some anxiety producing news.  We were going to be sandwiched together in our itty-bitty jet with engines running for another hour waiting behind 16 other American Airlines flights before we could be cleared to take off.  Actually, I was the only person on the plane cheering.  I've waited this long, dammit, I could wait another hour.  We were actually inside the plane and queued for takeoff in the rush to outrun an oncoming storm, so Vegas odds ran that the guys behind us by 15 flights might have to go back to the gate -- but we still had a shot.  And I was right.

I'm now in Pensacola with absolutely, completely, totally nothing that I have to accomplish in any particular time frame.  I have orders to relax, read, rest.  Repeat.  And my hubby sends everyone his regards, but for the first time in two months that request didn't come via cell phone.  It came in person.  The simple logistics of just turning my head to talk to the guy I'm crazy about became my best birthday present.

No Shit, Sherlock.

There are no apologies for the title of this post.  I'm a Navy spouse.  We swear like sailors and for some very fine and appropriate reasons.

As of this post it will be exactly two weeks, one day, and 16 hours until my flight lands in Pensacola.  The purpose of this mission is to retrieve one homesick spouse for a very fine and merry road-trip journey home.  Finally.

The nice thing about having a loved one drive the family car out to a distant location is that you get to have a great road trip on the way home, if you're lucky enough to arrange it.  My wayward spouse has done his time most professionally and academically in Pensacola, filling his brain at school with all the nifty tools of the trade necessary to do his military job here in Denver once he arrives back home.  My not-so-classified job is to arrive on time via multiple airline routes, retrieve the spouse, remind him that life isn't just various shades of blue and gray, party hard and thoroughly, and to get us safely home in the family car.  Roger that.

I swear to the gods and goddesses in any available heaven....this is the fortune I plucked out of the cookie bin after ordering tonight's Lonely Girl Fast-Food dinner at Panda Express.  Yeah, you think?  Panda Express has a higher ratio for being right than the astrology column of the Denver Post, so I'm thinking about making it a daily stop.

The dog-sitter is in place.  I have neighbors picking up my mail and the paper while I'm gone.  I've grilled the substitute teachers on all the coursework they need to survive my classes (and my frisky students) while I'm gone.  I'm ready to go.  I just haven't quite yet figured out how to fold time so it happens this weekend instead of two weekends from now.  Please send all time-bending schematics to me at the Between Random Planets email, I shall be eternally grateful.  So will all my loyal, patient Navy spouse friends who are missing their own mates over and over (and over) again.

I Even Like The Thorns

It was Teacher Appreciation Week awhile back...and I was overwhelmingly surprised to receive not only many hugs and blessings from my students -- but also flowers.

I really don't think they'd believe me, but after being the new girl in town (again) with a husband miles away for another whole month (again) -- I'm the one who should be appreciating them.

“Teachers who inspire know that teaching is like cultivating a garden, and those who would have nothing to do with thorns must never attempt to gather flowers.”
~Unknown

Lookin' Pretty Hot for an Octogenarian

"The town was torn apart by a bitter writers strike, but I'm happy to say the fight is over, so tonight, welcome to the make-up sex."
~Oscars host Jon Stewart at the 80th Academy Awards referring to the four-month-long Hollywood writer's strike

Oscar is 80 and doesn't look a day over 25. 

Where do you go in our neck of the woods when you want to see a little glamour? My Aunt Carolyn and I headed for an Oscar night on the town back to the Cinema Grill in search of local glam-bots, where the Academy Awards were being shown to a theatre full of equally nutty film fanatics, broadcast live on a 20 foot screen and served with as many snacks and cocktails as one human being could possibly consume in a four hour viewing period.

Some of our local film fanatics even put on their tuxes and rhinestone tiaras -- definitely a look we'll be sporting next year.  Due to the potential for copious cocktail consumption, we decided that escorted transportation via one of Denver's Yellow Cabs was prudent....even though our cabbie was also escorting a 5-foot long stair-step machine in the front seat which made for a totally unique backseat ride.  Next year I might even consider a limo rental with my fake tiara, and plenty of room just in case the driver wants to transport an entire elliptical machine.

Our waiter Patrick patiently sat through my customary "on the side" food order and even politely ducked when he walked in front of us during Jon Stewart's monologues on the silly and sensational state of affairs in filmic Hollywood.  We had wildly enthusiastic "fan club" sections of our audience (dressed in every style from tiaras to t-shirts) who attempted to out-cheer each other in every major category from Best Song to Best Supporting Actor -- with plenty of loud jokes made about Javier Bardem's pageboy haircut in No Country For Old Men.

Red Carpet Resolution for next year:  Upon arriving at the Cinema Grill's Oscar Viewing Night, I'd like for someone to approach me and ask "who are you wearing"?  I'm not sure how I'll answer that, but I have a year to figure it out.

Harry: "You're high maintenance but you think you're low maintenance."

Sally: "I don't see that."

Harry: "You don't see that?  'Waiter, I'll begin with a house salad, but I don't want the regular dressing.  I'll have the Balsamic vinegar and oil, but on the side.  And then the Salmon with the mustard sauce, but I want the mustard sauce, on the side.'  On the side is a very big thing for you."

~When Harry Met Sally

Endangered Silverware

Proudly displayed at Anthony's, our favorite New York-style pizza establishment.  It's so New York that you don't order a pizza, you order a pie.  But it's so Denver that you really should be environmentally conscious while consuming it.

Ahhhh....

It's bright, sunny and between snows.  But when it snows again, I always think of Mutts.  Maybe another snow wouldn't be so very bad...

Measuring Romance in Frames Per Second

"Whew, this movie business is tough. I might just have to go back to loan-sharking for a while to get some vacation."
~Chili Palmer Get Shorty

I love date night.

My spouse has been in training in Pensacola, far away from our current digs in Denver, for over three weeks.  Before he left, however, he took me to the most romantic date night a film buff like me could imagine.  Dinner and a movie.  At the same time.

I've been surprised that there aren't more places like this in my native film-fanatic hometown of Los Angeles, California.  Cinema Grill here in Colorado manages to show first-run flicks with a generous feast attached while you're watching the film.

Your film and feast includes one movie, amazingly unobtrusive and charming black-tie waiters, and a darned good menu including grilled mahi-mahi, nachos that equal most oversized platters in Sunny So Cal, pitchers of micro-brews, a decent wine list, margaritas, hot fudge brownie sundaes and -- of course -- popcorn.  As if there's any room left for popcorn.

Our movie?  We saw Charlie Wilson's War, a great recommendation from Mom and I'll pay it forward here as a flick definitely worth seeing.  Our black-tie guys were having a whole lot of fun with our goofball antics -- as the first people to arrive (yours truly needed the best seat in the house) they had a lot of time to give us a tour of the menu, the services and to keep the liquid libations coming while we behaved like it was our first time at Disneyland.

By the time the house filled to capacity (this took ten minutes) we had a chance to see what the other people were eating.  Some of the other foods drastically removed from the customary cineplex menu included piping hot Chicago-style pizzas (full pies not slices), steak and baked potatoes, and lime daquiries.

I'm returning this week.  I hardly know where to begin.  My days of soggy nachos, stale popcorn and watered-down Diet Coke may truly be over.