Between Random Planets

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

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...

Into the Zone

Okay, even though my Tuesday in Denver was an outrageously sunny, springtime 65 degrees and a whole lot of this....

A couple of weeks ago when my in-laws came for their first family-related Denver visit our weekend was a whole lot of fuzzy this....

Few folks here seem to mind the somewhat capricious weather.  They just bundle up and head for the Zone.  Our Zone was the ESPN Zone -- and Denver is one of the lucky recipients of this All-Time Absolute Sports Mecca (approximately 8 lucky U.S. cities so far have the honor of this sweaty, giant-screen, sports spam).

It's not just the beer that made us so happy.  It wasn't just the awesome Denver Light Rail ride that magically transported us to the 16th Street Mall.  It wasn't just our own private TV screen at our table and our super-attentive waitresses who couldn't stop urging us into one more Bloody Mary or one more round of chicken wings.  It wasn't just the 17 screens showing every possible sport known to man or beast (including bowling, ice-skating, and bocce ball as a silent "sideline" to the much-anticipated San Diego Chargers vs. the New England Patriots football game).  It wasn't the sight of the hardcore football fans who reserved the Lazy-Boy Recliners in the front row -- the guys who ended up chugging pitchers of beer at the same rate that I'd polish off my single 16 ounce. 

It was the smell.  It smelled like beer, peanuts, locker-room sweat -- and (yes, I'll say it) -- it smelled like victory.  Which is what a good sports bar should smell like.  No matter who wins.

Okay, so my former home-town Chargers lost.  But my father-in-law Phil and I won (well we won every arcade game we played in ESPN Zone's massive arcade extravaganza).  And he beat the holy hell out of the boxing video game -- a good tip if you ever want to blow off some steam in between games or rounds of cocktails.  The heaving, screaming rivalry between ESPN Zone's drunken patrons (half San Diego, half New England fans) made the trip even more worthwhile.  We were "high-fiving" total strangers at the next table and I had more than one initimate discussion in the ladies room with some very field-goal-savvy females.

Heck, we had this much fun during football season.  I can't imagine how much fun we'll have after spring training.

I'll Settle for a Delayed Day

Deceiving.  That was the conclusion of my morning lecture delivered via Channel 4's weather team -- and it was the first word I woke up to.  Yesterday we enjoyed 65 degree temperatures and I had to zigzag madly around dozens of Cherry Creek Trail cyclists. Today we're looking forward to 8 inches of snow in the Denver Metro area.  Yes, the tired old axiom is true -- Denver does have more sunny days than coastal San Diego.  But please don't tell anybody, I'm kind of liking the overall lack of congestion.

So -- to drive or not to drive?  I still have my local news team's lecture rattling about in my head, "know before you go, if you go -- go slow, and nothing is what it appears to be today."  Fortunately for the moment mother nature has made my decision; we live on a cul-de-sac and getting out at the moment is extraordinarily difficult.  When it clears I'll navigate the roadside accidents and power outages in the Jeep and will attempt to get into work late just like everybody else.

A delayed day is great, though.  While waiting for our road to clear I did a load of laundry, worked out, played with the dog and substituted my customary granola breakfast for something that actually required cooking.

This weather thing is an amazing blessing for a Type A like myself.  Having the patience to allow the weather to make your decisions can be pretty darned relaxing. 

I Could Use a Snow Day.

Not coming from the land of "snow days" (days where work, school and every normal routine abjectly stops dead in it's tracks due to inclement weather) I find it really charming to consider the prospect of one.  Roughly six inches of snow might be dropping tonight and I couldn't be happier.

Aaaah.  A day to catch up on bills, hot toddies, blogging and all the movies I've downloaded over the last two weeks.  I really don't understand how people could not love a day like this.  They're simply made for enforced relaxation, roaring fires and reflection.  Well, we'll see.  If six new posts detailing the awesome Front Range world of downtown Denver don't show up tomorrow then it means I just have to wait for the weekend to finally catch up.

The simple prospect of a snow day makes me feel like a fifth grader.  Cheers to that, mates.

Setting Foot on Foreign Land

"The whole object of travel is not to set foot on foreign land; it is at last to set foot on one's own country as a foreign land." 
~G.K. Chesterton

I don't know what we'd do without Google Maps.  My spouse -- complete with one PT Cruiser and a full tank of gas -- has been gone 37 hours and 45 minutes on his 2 month quest for Naval training in Pensacola. We've still managed three telephone conversations, five text messages, and a whole lot of long-distance Google Map logistics in order to keep him sailing on the fastest highways outside of Houston, Texas and Mobile, Alabama in real time -- no maps necessary.  Who says you can't stay close in this digital age?

42 Days Later

From that last post I should actually correct myself.  What a difference 42 days can make.

In the short 42 days since we've landed in Denver, Colorado we've experienced the search for housing (successful), the frozen roadways (successful), Keystone mountain (really successful), the receipt of our household goods (moderately successful), an exploding downstairs bathroom (outcome: surprisingly successful), out-of-town family visits (successful and fun, more news later) and my loooong succession of job interviews at Cambridge College (outcome: very, very successful). 

Upon review, it's nice to see so many successes in and amongst the bureaucratic crap that we had to deal with, but staying positive is a family hallmark and we won't go into detail here about the Hell Days.  Suffice to say that these days would have sunk other ships...but ours still floats.

My now non-seafaring spouse will still be leaving for two long months tomorrow, as Pensacola and additional job training are calling.  As it's a call we've been putting on hold for some time I suppose it's best that it's answered now so we can get it out of the way.   When he returns, he'll have a whole new job title in a whole new city. 

And gainful employment found me just in the nick of time.  My hands are rarely idle (if "idle hands are the devil's playground" he must be bored to tears around me) so my new position is keeping me running.  It's also keeping me smiling, as it's a hell of a lot of fun.  I'm the newest member of Cambridge College's teaching staff -- teaching two classes daily of Oriental Theories, Massage Therapy, Body Mechanics, Anatomy, Physiology and Pathology.

Fortunately it's not all "ologies" though....I get lots of opportunities to think outside of the box.  We're doing a review of Eat Drink Man Woman this week for a little taste of Eastern Culture. 

Speaking of taste, it seems that our little community is one of the largest Asian communities in Denver.  I walked into H Mart (one block from our house) and my mind was completely blown to pieces.  It was like a little slice of Japan in my own backyard....although it was in a Costco-sized warehouse so I suppose I could hardly call it little.  Then the lady next door motioned me in to try some of the best sake I've ever tasted.

I have a sneaking suspicion that we're really going to like it here.