I guess I should start at the beginning of our Tennessee adventures and put my other 1, 579 thoughts on hold. I kept meaning to upload photos and long captions to Facebook but for some reason the idea of writing a novel is so much more appealing than uploading photos. I have some catching up to do and I fully intend on not doing it. But I do want to tell you about the day we officially moved out and started driving.
If you know me well-ish you know the way in which my life works. My dad put it perfectly when I thought I might have appendicitis for the second time (first time it kinda was but then it wasnt, another story another time) but was assured by everyone around me that there was no way it was appendicitis, only to go to the ER days later and be told I needed to be prepped for surgery because I did, in fact, have appendicitis. He told me that he doesn’t believe in bad luck until he spends a little time with me. Or maybe he said it after I sold my car to a “We buy junk cars” company only to receive a phone call from an impound lot asking for the thousands of dollars that I owed on said car months later. Apparently my car wasn’t junked but was instead repaired and sold to a convict who ran a stop sign with no license, plate, or registration and the car was still in my name… not 100% sure that issue is even entirely resolved but I tried my darnest to deal with the back and forths and phone calls with that one. Oh and it was a month before my wedding. So yea, bad luck.
Anyway, Brian and I had been renting his parent’s efficiency space from the time we got married until the day we left for Tennessee. The space was essentially a living room (that we used as a living room/office/kitchen) and a bedroom but the bedroom had no door and no windows. Just a step up into our cozy little dungeon. All this to say, we weren’t traveling with four bedrooms and an attic full of crap, but also don’t live like the homeless guys downtown with all of their belongings in a grocery cart because, well, we’re not homeless. Anyway, we spent about two days filling up our 15ft. U-Haul with the help of our Brother-In-Law, Brian’s Aunts and parents, my brother Noah, and anyone else that I might be forgetting that helped us load her up (ha, sorry not sorry). We were all set. We did a Coke cheers, like our Coke toast at our wedding, said our goodbyes and were off. I was in my Altima with Dallas and whatever didn’t fit in the U-Haul, Brian was driving the truck, Frank (brother-in-law) was driving Brian’s Element, and Betty (mother-in-law) was driving another car. The truck and 3 vehicles pulled up at U-Haul and we said one more goodbye before Betty and Frank left in the car that Betty had driven there. Brian went inside to get the trailer while I walked the dog in the 102° sunshine. About ten minutes later, the trailer was attached to the back of the truck, I was getting back into my car with D when Brian went to drive his car up onto the trailer… and it of course didn’t start.
I should have prefaced this by mentioning that just three weeks before our move, Brian was in Europe on a two week long trip with NWSA. I spent a couple days in TN searching for apartments with my mom (God bless her) and when I returned I definitely was not packing up our place. Ha. Anyway, during one of those two weeks, someone in Brian’s family was driving his car and it acted up so immediately upon Brian’s return to the states, we had a hefty car repair done to the Element. Having it not start at this very moment as we literally had the U-Haul and Altima engines on and ready to rumble was, well, comical. Typical, so very typical of the way things workout for me. After I laughed and Brian paced back and forth 12 times, we tried to jump start the car. Despite the overspill of whatever belongings didn’t fit in the U-Haul, or were too fragile (ie. my succulents, yes I brought them with me) for the rough ride, we miraculously found jumper cables in one of our cars. We tried too many times. Nada. Brian is going to kill me for mentioning this but it’s part of the reason why I love him… He asked me to find a mechanic or someone I could call to come out and look at the car. Of course, I cracked up and reminded him that unlike doctors in the early 1900’s, mechanics don’t do house calls. Sorry, B. You’re just so funny.
In true Jenna fashion, I knew there was nothing I could do to help so I left to go get gas and a snack. While I was gone, Brian corralled as many men as he could find around the U-Haul lot and begged them to help him push his dead car onto the trailer. Please let me remind you that we had just spent a good $861 on this car less than 5 days before this dead car experience. That might not actually be how much we spent, because I saw that number yesterday when I was looking at Balance Transfers on my Discover credit card, but it was either just under or just over $1,000.
I pulled up with a slim jim and tank full ‘o gas and found Brian in the U-Haul with his car on the back, ready to go. Sure we were taking off about three or four hours later than we had hoped to take off, but we managed.
We (he) drove a dead car from Miami to Nashville on the back of a U-Haul. Our first stop in our new city was at a mechanic shop, since mechanics in Tennessee don’t do house calls either… weird. There Brian had to once again gather as many men as he could find and they managed to shake and rock his dead car off of the trailer and push it into a bay. I was, of course, sitting on a curb with Dallas laughing a little too hard while snap chatting the shenanigans.
Good times. We made it. We laughed a lot along the way. No, we’re not going to continue throwing thousands of dollars at this car but we’re not giving up on it just yet.
Jenn in Tenn.