As all of our Cherished Loved Ones know, we have discarded our “old lives” to embark on a new adventure in pursuit of Brynn’s current “what-I-want-be-when-I-grow-up” career as a Nurse Anesthetist (shout out to Peg for that suggestion). So we sold our house, quit our jobs, and did the only other thing we could before moving to Florida; we moved in with Bob and Sharon (muchos gracias to Bob & Sharon). Sooner than we could blink, we set off for our non-stop drive across the country (2600 miles) with Bob’s 30 ft trailer, comedians on CD from Thor & Brooke, Valium for our pups, more food than a starving pack of wolves could consume from KB, and loving happy-road-thoughts from our families. Overall, Operation Sunshine was successful with minimal casualties, of which included 1 transmission, 1 table, 2 dog beds, 6 rolls of Gorilla Tape, and 1 pair of pants. All in all, a very effective transition.
Unfortunately, our little transmission hiccup cost us several days of travel (one night of absolutely nothing to do in Billings, MT, and then added hours to actual travel time since we had to drive 50 mph….for 2300 miles).
Once in FL, we made new friends at Swor Cottage (a little piece of paradise right in Weirsdale, FL) who took very good care of us while we looked for housing in Orlando.
Our delayed arrival to FL butted right up to the Christmas weekend and then New Years, and come to find out, nobody in FL works for three weeks before and after these holidays (slight exaggeration, but not much).
So when all was said and done, we had only about three days that we could actually walk through some rentals.
And let me tell you, just because they have some palm trees and a fountain, does not mean they are not right smack dab in the middle of the ghetto.
However, on our last day we happen to notice a for rent sign for a house/duplex in a nice neighborhood that is very close to my classroom and clinical site in downtown Orlando.
We were able to look at it for about 10 minutes and then signed our life away as the new tenants of The Copa.
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| Strangely reminiscent of a scene from Dexter |
The Copa, come to find out, had a few unique features. Because we were in a little bit of a pinch, we were willing to overlook some of these small, less-than-perfect aspects, such as the dead cockroach in the master bedroom (and no matter how much these Floridians insist that it’s a Palmetto Bug, you just can’t church it up. It’s a damn cockroach any way you slice it), the fact that one upper and one lower cabinet in the kitchen constituted the entire house’s storage, and the overwhelming funk that seemed to permeate everything. We took a swig off our flask, and signed the lease. We immediately got to work bleaching absolutly every inch, dumping about 60lbs of Baking Soda on the carpets, quarantining them off with plastic, and then re-carpeting over them. We used the world’s supply of Lysol, sealed faulty vents, placed filters in every register, and bought an air purifier. Despite our best efforts, The Copa still managed to emit funk. Then one day as we returned from our daily trip to Ikea (a very redeeming quality of the Greater Orlando Area), we notice Porter’s big dumb head sticking out from our bedroom window; the window where the screen is screwed to the window frame. Huh. So we are outside assessing for any permanent damage to the window when Nate casually states, “Ah, there is raw sewage all over.” Ok…. Apparently the clean out drain (placed directly below our master bedroom window) had been slopping everything from the sewer system right on the ground. Source of funk – identified. Twenty-eight hours later we were able to use the facilities again and the funk had greatly subsided. We are still waiting for our cesspool to be remediated, and may have to place a call to the City Health Dept., but sooner or later it should be taken care of. Welcome to The Copa!
We did take some time and locate my classroom site, which happens to be right across the street from the Amway Train Station. Uh-huh. Anyway, it was nice to see the place I’ll be spending the next three years of my life, and it marked a special moment of realization of “we made it.” Now we just have to survive it.
After spending numerous grueling nights studying thousands of drink combinations, he victoriously obtained his bartending license: no small feat. Armed with his cocktail-cornucopia, snazzy black pants, and a damn cute smile, he was on the hunt; job hunt, that is. He got his first job lead and pounced on it like a puma in heat. They didn’t even stand a chance. He was offered a job on the spot! 
