Details to come, but I've officially moved to Jacksonville. I say "I" because B is en route tomorrow. Mom came down with me (THANK YOU GOD!), and is currently taking an unintentional cold shower. That's right, the gas people don't come on weekends. Sorry Momma. :(
The move was fairly uneventful, thanks to the help of friends and family, but the lead-up was anything but. In the past three days, both B's car and mine have been in the shop, duking it out to see who could become the next "what the hell IS that noise" contender. B's car won: A tune up, a new front seat, and a new fuel pump it is!
Let me just walk you through the past two days.
Friday: B leaves for Charleston (bachelor party, woot!). My car's in the shop leaking oil from every possible crevice (sorry B's parents' driveway). I'm with B's parents at the lake getting the boats out of the water and into storage. Blueberry ice cream was had and all was well.
Saturday: Learn that B's car needs a new seat because the rail beneath it is bent. Basically, B's been strapping himself into an ejector seat every time he's buckled his seat belt and hit the road. As his Dad said, "It doesn't help a whole lot to buckle yourself into a seat if the seat isn't buckled into anything!"
This, dear ones, lead to my first trip to an Atlanta junkyard. Now I've been to junkyards before, but never one with a front man named Jimmy who keeps trying to convince me to take his card and that he's not a rapist. I don't know what surprised me more: that the guys in the front office were super helpful in teaching me about fuel pumps and the going rate or that they had their entire inventory of cars catalogued by part. For real: '98 Jeep Cherokee Sport Front Electric Seat in Tan. "Absolutely," says Jimmy. "Come on down."
So "no down" we went, approving the seat (slight rust stain and all) and waiting for "Mike" to pull it out of the car. Yes, Mike, we want the bolts, too. Then B's Dad and I armed ourselves with fabric cleaner, leather cleaner, and deodorizer and went to work. As luck would have it, the "new" seat turned out cleaner than the original; we even realized the original has green in the fabric! As luck would have it, again, they may not need the seat, which means that if B's Dad is really into it, he could probably sell that bad boy on Ebay for a profit.
(Meanwhile, I have my Mother taking a shower in what the water heater says is 11 degree water, which she categorizes as "Not bad" and "maybe Celcius" in turn.)
After the trip to the junkyard and the epic cleaning, I hit the road and ran errands, purchasing a washer and dryer, returning books, buying wine, and picking up little Atlanta items to make Florida feel like home. I came back, did a few hours of freelance work, then welcomed Mom, who we celebrated with a fun dinner culminating in zero packing and four empty bottles of wine.
So here I sit, in my new lovely house, so excited for B to come and see it. That's right, he's signing on sight-unseen (which is what happens when you're studying for the Bar, bless him!), but I know he'll love it. The first thing I unpacked was his crystal bar set, one we've never set up.
Mom nailed it on the head; we've had houses, but this will be our first home. I can't wait to see where this chapter of our lives takes us.
To come? The gas people, the cable people, the POD people, and, of course, B!