A New York Move

It all began with this....

     During my first big move from Utah to Minnesota, I packed only what could fit in my small two door car with a bamboo plant riding in the front seat and hitting my sister and I in the face for a three day drive.

     While the hostility resulting from my choice of giving my plant life priority seating over my sister's comfort was not one I wanted to repeat with a new roomate, her dog and my own Scottie, my tiny car took on the brave task of being loaded with a trailer to aide with space.

      The drive was long. And slow. It was a good start an hour and a half into the trip when Scottie began hiccuping, then coughing, then hacking. In slow motion, he began to heave. "Scottie, hold on....hold on there buddy....FOR THE LOVE OF GOD PLEASE DON'T PUKE IN THIS CAR!!!!" He then began to spew vomit across the center console. Then, to make sure he covered enough area, he moved to floor for a second round. As if to make it completely worth it, he then dribbled what was left leaking from his mouth onto the seat. After he was through, he looked up with wide, innocent eyes like nothing had happened; his "I'm done, we can play again" eyes.

     Requiring a small detour to the next available stop, I made multiple trips into the "No Dogs Allowed Inside" rest area, alternating between coming out with handfuls of dry and wet paper towels to the the point where I felt like the tourist desk attendant almost banned me from coming in again.

    "I'm sorry. My dog...he just puked in the car. Everywhere. Absolutely everywhere! Puke! Everywhere! My car is going to smell like vomit for DAYS!"

     PS, explaining awkward situations doesn't make it better. Since I can remember, I've always felt like I owe people an explanation in uncomfortable situations. I don't know what I expect as a response, but to this day it has never worked in my favor.

     I drove from Minnesota to Wisconsin to pick up my roomate Jenessa, loaded the trailer with her half of what could fit in the Uhual, and continued the trip at a thrilling 55 mile per hour max due to the weight we were pulling.

     We made the drive in four days, and three nights.  At each hotel, I insisted on bringing my box of 2 bamboo plants, a mini palm tree, and my large full size palm up each night so they wouldn't die in the trailer. I will forever defend my irrational plant decisions even though deep down I know there's nothing to back them up. I will stand behind them out of pure stubbornness and plant devotion.  With two restless dogs, a traveling beta fish, and a complete landscape to accompany and add to each hotel decor, this was shaping up to be a roadtrip to remember.

     

        Of course, every roadtrip has its highlights.  This one especially had more than one could possibly count, including:

• One of the dogs getting loose outside and the chaos of trying to shove him back in the car while stopping for gas.
• Driving 20 miles per hour up the Appalachian Mountains with the air conditioner off in fear of literally exploding the engine while two dogs wrestled and fought in the backseat for at least A 6 HOUR PERIOD.
• Scottie freaking out and barking continuously in a small confined space, and being a little diva when he couldn't squash himself up in the front.
• Spending twenty minutes looking online if it was possible to give Scottie something to relax.
• Drugging the poor dog so that he wouldn't kill us all.
• The stop for ice cream, the mistake of leaving it in the car for two minutes, having the dogs get into it and smear it across the entire front seat, and the remainder of the drive spent in trying not to inhale the literally rotten milk smell of cheap soft serve vanilla.

     

     And who could forget experiencing New York for the first time ever by DRIVING A UHUAL THROUGH A CROWDED TIMES SQUARE?!

....Good times. Good times.

     The initial moment of excitement was immediately cut short by honking from every direction and every angle.

     In my short, not even an hour of New York experience, I learned quickly that as SOON as a stoplight turns green, you better hope that you can slam on your gas pedal faster than the person behind you can slam their horn. I'm talking split seconds.  Traffic lanes are more guidelines than actually followed, more of a suggestion if you will, and tourists will always be in your way. Sometimes you have to gently nudge them out of it - gently inching your car through a sea of people. 

  

     

      They say if you can make it in New York, you can make it anywhere. I barely made it TO New York alive, but getting there is half the battle....