From There to Here

Okay,
Some have wanted to know what transpired between getting here from there.
Here it is.
Ready?

After finding out family had to be up and gone to San Diego by the 23 April, I made a couple of calls to the military veterinarian in Lemoore California, 177 miles from Monterey--one way. CPT. Heuvel DVM, and her staff worked with us and put us on the books for 22nd to do lovely Suicide-girl, Sadie's Health certificate. Even though the vet office was closed for that week... Bless them! Hustled out the door, on the road by 05:30hrs, and in NAS Lemoore by 08:04--66min before our appointment. Perhaps I have a lead foot. Omni-Domni (making quasi blessing motion), and back on the road by 10:40; Damn, I am good... shit; the gas gauge is sitting about 1 millimeter from 1/2 tank as I merge onto I-5N. Honda van and us, made it back and pulled up to the NPS gas station at exactly 13:02 hrs, 3min after the E light turned on. Alright, I have a lead foot, and man, our van really does well on highway miles. Drive back to our temp abode (much love and props to Matt and Yoko!) and crash to later pack and prepare for our final exit from Monterey, go to our beloved Dojo's farewell, then leave the next morning at 04:30.


During the farewell at California Pizza Kitchen (CPK), I was gifted by not just gorgeous earrings from Sensei, but by the show of people who have come to mean so much to my family, myself and my personal growth. Okay, so perhaps I lived at the dojo for a better part of my last year there, but I was on a mission: my time was drawing nigh, and I wanted to leave and be able to look back and say that I did all that I could and took as much as I could, as I was, in that time and space. I could say much more, but I DID promise a somewhat quickie.

While there I got sage advice to just let my body wake up when it is ready, since I was dead tired from a few days of little sleep. Besides, as Sensei Michael said, LA traffic is ever present, and leaving early would most likely put me into the tail end of the morning commute. So, 22:30 me and the Unfortunates left, with sad heart, but excited minds for the journey ahead. I set my alarm for 04:45, finished packing by 2am, took a nap and woke up exactly when my body said to… 05:37. Looked at my phone and discovered that I did set the alarm—for pm, when the Unfortunates and I awakened from our nap—yesterday. Curses! It worked out for the best though; with good byes said we were back on the road at 06:45 and made OUTSTANDING time to San Diego airport to pick up Sailor Studman at 13:04. And no, this is no fart in the wind—the slowest we went in LA was 68 mph, on a Wednesday, which was not a holiday.

All this time, I was on hot standby for the Phone Call—the call from Newport, RI’s naval admin to say that the Dependent Entry Approval (DEA) came in. You know; the paper you need in order to actually PCS to a foreign country with your dependents? Of course it didn’t make it, but after only being with Sailorman for a total of 20 days since mid July of ’07, the Unfortunates and I could have cared less about some little sacred document like that… at least for the time being. After the meet’n greet, food and walking the dog, we all piled back into the van and said goodbye to Sailorman for his flight at 18:30 to Seattle. Sailorman and I did contemplate sending the girls with him since he did have their tickets and we were certain that the Navy would have the DEA by time they crossed the big puddle to Japan; then again it IS the Navy and we really weren’t in the mood to play Russian roulette. Sticking with Plan C,* we kissed the Sailor goodbye and planed to meet up with him no later than Sunday, Japan time.

*Plan A:
Unfortunates fly with Sailor Studman to Japan, I fly with Suicide-girl thanks to the Navy (who changed our orders) not accommodating our dog, which was written on our orders, on a Japanese airline and not on the MAC (Military Airlift Cattle/no, Command) Flight
Plan B:
Unfortunates fly with Sailor regardless of DEA (since this situation came to light Wednesday at ticket acquisition time).
Plan C:
We cash our chips and take it in the pocket for flying the Unfortunates with me and Sadie.

Thanks to Trish and Sarah, we all crashed at our second temp home, this time in San Diego, (were the next day at 4am I am awakened by Sailorman; the DEA did arrive, and he is about to board his flight to Japan in 2hrs.), where Friday, (after waiting for Suicide-girl’s Japanese import notification approval number) I purchased 1 adult and 2 children for the next day flight at the cost of $2,178. Saturday, after arranging for Trish (THANK-YOU) to take our van to a Gucci-like storage facility the next week; Suicide-girl (the dog), The Unfortunates, myself and Trish, drove to the airport. There at the AE commuter ticket counter, an hour and 45min till take off, it was discovered that the dog’s crate was too large. It fit the dimensions of the cargo door—EXACTLY; and I wasn’t in the mood to find whether or not the kennel would fit 2o minutes before take off. Oh the joy. After standing around and me too tired to argue, I quietly pointed out that I did call more than 4 separate times to ensure that the dog’s crate fit… measurements of paper are one thing, actual item is another. Since Suicide-girl was quiet, the kids were quiet (thanks to Nintendo DS’), and I was kind, patient and willing to work with them (like I had any other place to go), they really earned their paycheck and found us shuttle service (after a small kennel couldn’t be found via other airlines) to LAX for only the price of the dog $150. Not the $350 plus $150 for the dog. We left SAN at 10:10, our JAL flight leaves LAX at 13:20. I know, but what other immediate choice was there? I let the Universe have its way, and I joined whole heartedly into the organized chaos. Giving my trust to the ticketing agent which starts with a D, who said that we can make it in time, Carl--our driver and the dilapidated van, that of course had to be filled up with gas 20 minutes into transit; we were off.

FINALLY, arriving 40min before take off (mind you; this is an international flight out of the US), I jump out of the van and look at the three luggage porters that are just lounging there beside us, and say in a very urgent—do you really want to mess with me—tone, “Our plane is leaving in 40 min, where is the JAL counter? I have a large dog in the back with four pieces of luggage, we are military, permanently moving overseas today, WHERE is the JAL counter?!?” I looked them all in the eye, and had the two guys scrambling to help the Carl with luggage, and the lady ran with me and the kids to the closed front desk about 100 yd off. Fortunately, there were two JAL agents—manager and assistant—who immediately got to work when I said which plane we need to be on. Okay, so we could have lived if we missed that flight, but we worked our asses off to be ready, prepared and flexible, just to be jerked around—I was tired and not taking no, or “I’m sorry,” for an answer. The Porter chick who ran us to the counter and came back with our dog and luggage, demanded with a smile that we tip her as required. I only had a twenty left out of the $400 I took out of the ATM. Of course she didn't have $10 for change. Me thinking the bitch she had me cornered, saw the other two porters about to head back without asking for tip. So I gave them a heads up little shout of thankyou while flashing the $20 bill in the air and giving bitch-chick the tip with flare. I smiled as generously as I could and they waved back. I gave them the scent of blood... who knows what came of it.

Anyway, the manager did our paperwork, along with another assistant who materialized out of nowhere, while the original assistant took us and luggage, to the gigantic baggage scanner, ran us back to get our papers, passports; me hand over the $220 for dog; me sign here, here, and there; then the assistant ran us through the airport to the head of the line in security check, then run on to the flight’s gate. We made it, just as the last 30 or so passengers were boarding. Mad props to the assistant who ran the mad dash in three inch heels! Getting aboard and giving the head flight attendant our letter letting them know who we are and that our beloved family dog is coming too, please let us know when she is aboard. After getting seated and being told that we have, “Good news,” our mutt is aboard; I suddenly felt all the nights of little sleep come on. WE MADE IT!!! The plane could have gone down in flames of glory into the ocean; I would not have batted an eye—in fact I would not have lifted an eyelid. Why? Because, I had done everything in my power to complete my mission: to get the rest of this military family to the new duty station, in one piece and as relatively sane as possible. I did and we landed at 16:53 in Narita, Tokyo Japan, 27 April. Through customs and animal quarantine in less than 2 hours, we were in the van provided by the Navy with Sailor Studman along for the ride.
Konbon wa, yokoso Nippon!