Well, my final flight with Frontier Airlines, anyway. If I’m going to take that kind of abuse, I’m gonna want dinner, too. My 90 minute flight took nearly 9 hours to accomplish, and was twice the price because they lost the first booking for me & Bug. The 1330 flight I was scheduled for never took off because the mechanics couldn’t find the left wing (there isn’t a left wing in Kansas, guys). We were unceremoniously booted off after two hours on the tarmac, and then abused by staff from the airline who made it clear they didn’t think our inconvenience (or the whereabouts of my poor dog) were their problem.

So we all got overbooked onto the 1630, with the exception of the three obvious airline employees who got booted (sigh. I remember those days of flying on passes - pain in the ass). I was ready to give up my seat if I had to, because there was a mom flying out to her son’s Marine graduation in California. It began at 6 this morning, and I hope she had a good time! Anyway, we both got on, the plane left pretty close to on-time, and Stacy thanked her luck that she only lives ten minutes from the airport, given that she made oh-so-many trips to pick me up yesterday!

Bug was a little trooper - turns out he was way better treated than us bipeds on the plane. Of course, he paid more for his ticket! Who knew that cargo = first class?? If there’s ever a next time (there won’t be), I will be sure to fly in the hold!

Anyhow, I finally and tearfully arrived just after dark. I was escorted to my new digs - the square footage of my bed/bath area is about the size of my last apartment in Toronto (and probably costs less by the foot, too). I am in the suburbs here. I haven’t been in ‘burbs in a looooong time. That whole “drive five miles for a quart of milk” thing applies. Of course, it applied with Castle Argghhh! Farm, too.

Stacy has three sons, conveniently named #1, #2 and #3. #1 moved out, and I have his room. #3 is hilarious, and fascinated by the fact that my non-dog pees on a pad. If I ever catch this particular boy peeping into my room, I will know it will have nothing to do with me, and everything to do with my dog’s elimination habits. I suggested to Stacy she get him therapy before she starts finding body parts in the freezer!

This weekend I will learn all about the wrestling club she and her husband run. You see, they are “community organizers” and Stacy will run for president based on that. So watch for it: Stacy 2012!! She’s even prettier than Sarah Palin, too!

More to come. It’s cloudy, so I can’t really see the mountains today, but next week we go to the cabin for Thanksgiving, and it’s really beautiful there. Pics to follow!

Just could not resist the play on words.

I’m off to “a place I’ve never been before”, heading waaaaay up to Denver to stay with Stacy for the Holidays. I can’t say as I’m looking forward to the altitude sickness I will have for the first week, but I really can’t wait to see the cabin and the views.

So here’s a brief moment of that limp-wristed, floppy-headed, stoned, dead hippy, John Denver. It will make you feel like you’re traveling right along with me.

Boss and I took a two-day road trip through the heartland to pick up a puppy in Wisconsin. Though the trip was way too long as far as I’m concerned, it was really a beautiful drive. Well, except for the blowout on the way there, and this on the way back. And yes, we bought cheese.

Lunch in the Boondocks, Iowa.

Meet Buffy the Coyote Slayer, age 8 1/2 weeks. Cute, huh?

Worth two in the bush. Just found her this morning, bopping around outside the barn.

It’s rather a pity that Fox already made a show about a bored city girl and her Chihuahua heading off to frolic uselessly on a farm while trying desperately not to break a nail. If Fox hadn’t already done this, I swear I would be pitching the idea to them. You see, on Tuesday I will be heading down to Kansas, to stay at Castle Arrgghhh! with Beth and John Donovan. And my little dog, too! Beth has been kind enough to offer me her spare room in exchange for indentured servitude - I will be her White Mexican at the farm. Maybe I’ll start a trend of white, English-speaking “Mexicans” who don’t steal the silverware - everyone will want one!

I imagine my main tasks will include getting dirty, dealing with all things related to poop, and picking ticks out of my dog. And possibly out of her dogs, too. For all I know it will turn into some sort of Marilyn “Simian Rights Now!” Churley fantasy with all of us picking ticks out of each other! So long as John is making his world-famous margaritas, I really won’t complain! I suppose the hardest part will be having to wake before I normally go to bed. Farm life is well beyond the comprehension of this city slicker. Hence the Paris comparison.

In all reality, it’s not indentured servitude. As you all know, June was an ass-kicker of a month for me, rendering me crippled with debt and personal loss. I have had to downsize my life considerably, though I have also made wonderful contacts and picked up plenty of writing work as a result. Thanks! There was originally a plan in place for me to spend the first week of August with Beth, but due to circumstances, I felt there was no harm - in fact there was much benefit to be had - in spending more time far from the filth and din of the city. I’m using this as an opportunity to escape, yet still get things accomplished. I have a stack of assignments to take with me, which means I’ll have a bit of an income while I’m there. My body looks forward to the opportunity of heavy farm work - it’s like the gym, but with added Vitamin D! So with the Donovans’ blessing, I am taking over the spare room for five weeks. Yup - five weeks!

On Tuesday morning I will pack up the freshly-immunized Bug and board a plane to Kansas City. Back in the old days, before air travel was the norm, I guess I would have had to click my heels and hope for the best.

Fear not, readers and listeners, for the hot pink laptop (which matches my boots) will be accompanying me, meaning Girl on the Right and Brass Balls Radio will continue live on location in Kansas. You’ll get to hear all about my exploits in rural farming, and with any luck, Beth will take a video or two to prove my ineptitude, which will be posted for your delight and delectation. I see disaster involving goats… and my poor little Bug being beat up by chickens. Then of course, there is John’s significant gun collection. Well, it’s more of an arsenal, actually! I’m looking forward to more lessons from him. He’s a great teacher, and will tell you the whole history of the gun, where it was used, and who he bought it from. Stay tuned!

How do I know this? Well, one reason is that I have an extremely high forehead. Really high. Like, I could sell ad space on my forehead.

The other reason is that I tend to flip-flop on important stuff, much to my detriment. In this case, I flip-flopped on CPAC.

First I was going. Then I took my tropical vacation and decided I couldn’t afford CPAC. Then Joy busted my balls and flat out told me I was going. So I’m going (those of you who’ve met Joy will understand her tenacity).

Please send money.

I’m actually on vacation this week, and am about to go sit by the pool, read a magazine, and work on adding some lifelike color to my pasty white skin. So here’s a roundup:

Why don’t they just call it cotton candy? Government renames Islamic terrorism as ‘anti-Islamic activity’ to woo Muslims

There is no compulsion in religion? British street gang forcing conversions to Islam, dealing drugs.

Cold Terror: Mohammed Mansour Jabarah conspired to blow up U.S. embassies in Singapore and Philippines, gets life term in prison

Bad time to be born in Montreal hospital: Doctors at a Montreal hospital are threatening to stop delivering babies this spring, saying the aging maternity ward is in a decrepit state of repair.

I don’t agree with this ruling, especially when young girls are being coerced into getting the HPV vaccine (which has not had enough time to be adequately tested) that you and I are funding: Men who pay for prostrate screening tests are not being discriminated against even though women get free breast cancer screening, the B.C. Human Rights Tribunal said Thursday in a ruling it conceded would not end the public health controversy.

And for a great laugh: The Top 25 Men Who Look Like Old Lesbians

So I’m in Detroit, killing four hours of layover time before my flight to Kansas. There is a spa in this airport! And conveniently, a Cuervo Tequileria, for the little Mexican lush in all of us.

I arrived in Detroit about an hour ago, absolutely famished. I was up at the crack of sparrowfart this morning to catch my mid-morning flight to Detroit. Yes, you now have to get up at five in order to catch a flight at 9:30. Thank you, Al Qaeda, for fucking with my beauty sleep. After being poked and prodded by various members of airport security (who, I noticed, seemed to take a hands-off approach to Muslims - good job!), I had more than an hour to kill, and a grumbling tummy. Pearson has to be, by far, one of the scarcest airports when it comes to consumables (and wireless, which they charge for). Heck, even Guam has an Officer’s Club. Pearson doesn’t even boast a McDonald’s! I would have kissed Osama’s ass for an Egg McMuffin. So instead I paid $7 for a stale Danish and a Fresca, and comforted myself that in a few short hours (ok, many hours, since I have a long layover in Detroit) I would be sipping margaritas on the Donovan porch. The end justifies the somewhat abusive means. But like a stroke of destiny, upon debarking in Detroit, I discovered this little watering hole. My mind and body still wanted breakfast, but a person can easily convince themselves that their strawberry margarita is actually a fruit smoothie. Really, I swear!

Every year, thousands flock to Oahu to bask on Waikiki Beach, surf at Sunset Beach, or golf at Turtle Bay. When the tourists think of the military there, they think of Pearl Harbor as something in the past - a headline, a movie, a call to arms - not as a fully functioning military installation that still operates today (for example, when the USS Ronald Reagan was docked there just a few weeks ago).

Oahu is covered with military. It seemed to me that I was never more than 50 yards from the nearest serviceman. There is the obvious female reaction to all that camo, but there is something more: a sense of security. I knew that I could walk to my accommodation at any hour and not have to look over my shoulder. I knew that no matter how lost I got (yes, I can get lost on an island - I’m talented that way), there would be someone with patience and knowledge to get me out of the bind. This was evidenced one morning when I took a wrong turn and found myself heading for Hickam Air Force Base. I knew I wouldn’t be able to enter - you have to have military ID for that. But the sentries posted at the entrance are incredibly helpful and friendly. It must happen often enough, since they have a built in u-turn spot to make the exit easier!

One evening I was meeting a friend at his installation, and I arrived a few minutes early. Again, I knew I wouldn’t be able to gain entry to the parking lot. So I just idled the car on the side of the road and stepped out to stretch my legs. A moment later a colonel in a sporty little red car pulled up to see if I was having car trouble. I can’t remember the last time a civilian (not counting a truck driver) stopped to see if I needed assistance.

And while we’re on the subject of car trouble, I was lucky enough to meet my new favorite person in Hawaii: Lieutenant Colonel Kevin Upson. When the LTC was in Iraq (he was a Major then), I was assigned as a Soldiers’ Angel to the 82nd Airborne, which was his unit. I was to send all correspondence for the troops to him, and he would distribute at random. I would usually receive an email from him every month or so, and if I didn’t hear from him, I’d drop him a line to check in. He was the only one in the unit I had contact with - the rest was done anonymously. He’s been in Hawaii for a few months now, so of course I contacted him when I found out I was going over. And when I arrived at the gate of Camp Smith to check in with the PAO for PACOM, it was the LTC who greeted me. It was a great honor to meet him - one I will cherish always, though he said the honor was his. Having him meet me at the door was only the first surprise he had in store. After my various chats with the Public Affairs Coordinator (Maj. David Griesmer, USMC - more on that meeting later) and other staff, LTC Upson escorted me out and told me to go “suit up” for a formal occasion. Hmmmm… intriguing… How does this all lead to car trouble? I’m getting to that - bear with me! (Although I was also able to interview LTC Upson, I will post that at a later date. I’m trying to stay on topic here!)

He picked me up a couple of hours later to escort me to the kickoff of Military Appreciation Month - a rather swanky “do” on Ford Island at the new Pacific Aviation Museum. The event was hosted by a series of local and corporate sponsors, and attended by Admiral Keating, the man who runs the show at PACOM. This was the LTC’s way of saying thanks for all I had done, even though I felt I could never do enough.

Anyway, to the car trouble…. after wining and dining on the catering of some of the finest restaurants on Oahu, and listening to the USMC Jazz Trio (they were awesome!), it was time to call it a night. We walked back to the car, only to find a dead battery. LTC Upson was terribly embarrassed, all dressed in his A’s, with a dead car. A fine pair we made soliciting through the crowd to see if anyone had jumper cables! Sure enough, we found a table of young kids - Army - so young I wondered if they should have had those beers in their hands. One of them suggested popping the clutch on a rolling start. What a spectacle! Four or five of them, plus the LTC, pushing the car while another sat in the driver’s seat getting ready to start her (a success!). Me on the sidelines, holding somebody’s beer and laughing at the sight, especially when an equally young bunch of Marines walked by and stopped to stare. To me it was one of the high points of the evening, though LTC Upson will probably send me a tersely worded email just for writing about it!

Perhaps it’s because I’m Canadian and we tend not to be very outgoing and helpful. Maybe it’s an “American thing”. Or maybe it truly is that having that many overgrown Boy Scouts in one place means you are never alone, and never without help when you need it. For that reason alone - not the beaches or the palm trees or even the pink-hued sunsets - did I feel at home on Oahu. And it is for that reason I would someday return there.

And a sunburn, which is astonishing, since I think we were only out of the car for about 45 non-consecutive minutes yesterday. My Charming Host(tm) took me on a whirlwind tour of more military installations than you can shake a stick at. It’s like traveling with the band to do it this way - all-access backstage pass. I felt like a celebrity. There are zillions of pictures to sort through, and I’ll only give you a few here and there. And of course some places were camera-restricted, which I wasn’t about to argue with. Especially since yesterday was my unofficial tour. The official one with Public Affairs will be later in the week.

(may I just say that there is a downside to the tropics? as I write this, there are ants crawling all over me. yuck. at least they’re harmless. but the roaches… don’t get me started on them!)

For the time being, here’s some random pics. I’ll sort through what I have and do more detailed posts later on.

This is Ray. We met at the hotel fountain. You can see how friendly he is by the way he’s waving for the camera.

The enormous flag at Camp Smith, flying half-mast (as were all flags on government property) in honor of those killed at Virginia Tech. Isn’t it beautiful? I’m told that at sunset it’s truly breathtaking.

On the beach, smiling despite my bloody foot (I had just cut it about 2 minutes earlier).

The famous USS Missouri. I will be touring her - and the Arizona Memorial - on Friday. I just added this pic today because my husband will love it.

The Charming Host(tm) took me to “MarineLand” at Kaneohoe Bay, but the weather was just turning inclement, so there was no eye candy to be had. It appears they don’t let the more attractive ones out in the rain. Perhaps they melt or something. Sorry ladies; I’ll keep trying.

And the day ended with some fabulous take-out Huli Huli chicken from Waimea.

Photos of the gorgeous Pali lookout and Pali National Park are up at Absinthe & Cookies, where I’m guest blogging this week.

This is the view from my hotel balcony. Life in Hawaii is tough….

Klutzy injury number one: I sliced my foot open on a jagged bit of coral, just walking along the beach before breakfast. Can’t wait to try surfing! What could possibly go wrong??

I have a rather early flight tomorrow. In case you hadn’t heard, I’m off to Hawaii! Tomorrow, since I will be in transit for the WHOLE. DAMN. DAY., EM Zanotti and Kathy Shaidle may pop by to amuse and delight you. If you ask nice, EM may give you the Friday Random Ten. Or make you waffles.

Legendary crooner Don Ho, who entertained tourists for decades wearing raspberry-tinted sunglasses and singing the catchy signature tune Tiny Bubbles, has died. He was 76.

Aw, man! I feel ripped off.

In the meantime, torture yourselves with this….

I can’t wait. Ten days from now I’ll be settled into my hotel and sipping a Mai Tai, staring out to sea. Ten days is going to feel like a lifetime.

For your blog-reading pleasure (and because there’s no damn way I’m passing up this opportunity), RightGirl is heading off to the sunny beaches of Oahu in 28 1/2 days. How does this benefit you? Well, I’ll be somewhat of a guest of the military establishment on the Island, including a very special tour of Camp Smith.

You see, for the past five years, all eyes have been on the Middle East in the War on Terror. How many of you are aware of the work that PACOM (Pacific Command) have been doing in places like the Philippines? How many of you are aware that we are facing an Islamic threat from there just as much as we are from the desert? And that the joint staff of PACOM are regularly sent to the Pacific Rim to clear out and rebuild areas? These guys should not be forgotten while - just like the Muslims are wanting - we’re facing East.

You may ask “How did RightGirl get such a plum assignment?” The answer is simple: I’m RightGirl. I believe that if you don’t ask, you don’t get, and that a little chutzpah goes a long way. So I made arrangements with some very dear military friends of mine to fly out there. They said if I was willing to fly 5000 miles by myself just to talk about the Pacific Rim WoT (and get a tan), they’d take care of all the arrangements on the ground. So for the bargain price (well, sorta) of a plane ticket, I’m getting a week in Hawaii. Some days being me isn’t all bad.