THE STORY BEHIND THE MOVE

ON NEW YEAR'S DAY, 2007, my husband and I moved from Taos, New Mexico to Jackson, Mississippi. This was so Brian could start a new job as a Radio Frequency Engineer. From the moment he accepted the position, we had only two weeks to complete the move. We had neither the time nor the extra money to come to Mississippi and look for a home . . . so I picked out an apartment over the Internet. The photo of the apartment interior looked very nice.

The deal sounded great, too: cheaper rent than we were used to, plus only one month's rent down and a mere $125 cleaning deposit. We were accustomed to paying “first, last and $500 cleaning deposit,” which could often amount to more than $2,000. Naively, we thought that perhaps Mississippi just had different renting conditions, and we were relieved to fork out less than $1,000 to get a 7-month lease.

Although neither of us had ever set foot in Mississippi before, we looked upon it as an adventure. However, when we walked into the apartment on that first exhausting day, we looked at one another and said:

“SEVEN MONTHS?! OHMIGOD. ”

(Why seven? I do not know. All I know is that we are eternally grateful those seven months are finally over.)

I refer to this apartment of horrors as The Dungeon. It's gloomy, noisy, ugly and full of sabotage. Just a small selection of the delights:

• When you try to have a bath, the tub flakes off so much cheap bath repair paint you feel like you're bathing in toxic snowflakes

• The insinkerator sounds like its grinding industrial waste, and it vibrates the sink so hard you have to make sure no items from the counter fall in while you're grinding!

• The ill-fitting burners tilt our pans and all the cooking oil or liquid runs to one side; cooking food evenly is nearly impossible

• The dishwasher chips the dishes and, unless you practically scrub them all first, leaves a film of grease

• The front door has a large crack above it that lets in the neighbors' cigarette fumes as they sit smoking on the porch

• The AC unit in the apartment downstairs is in the floor of our hallway. It was so old and crotchety, it vibrated the floor of our apartment like an earth tremor. You could often hear it rattling the glasses in the kitchen cupboards two rooms away. I could even feel it vibrating my mattress as I tried to sleep—and the noise pollution was terrible. My complaints went unheeded for many months. I finally had to complain to the Regional Manager, and thankfully, she directed the Apartment Manager to have it replaced.
  

So, where are we moving to next?

We found a huge, 3-bedroom duplex (1,600 sq. ft.) for only $176 more per month, tucked away in a quiet, privately-owned community of duplexes where the neighbors are friendly and helpful. This will solve another problem for us also: we have no friends here yet, apart from Brian's work colleagues. Unlike the masses of strangers we're surrounded by now, the folks in the duplexes have already said:

“We would LOVE to have you as our neighbors!”

Needless to say, this did amazing things for our morale. It was also the other part of the “reference” we needed to be accepted by the owners. The owners want their residents to be happy and live together in harmony. After the fake “We love our residents!” motto at this House of Horrors, getting the seal of approval from the new neighbors sounded awfully good to us.

We will also have our own garage, which means we can get rid of the storage unit we were spending $50 on each month.

The view from the back of the duplex is dense forest. The gardens are full of hummingbirds, squirrel and deer. No more views of windshields reflecting blinding sunlight from the parking lot. No more watching our neighbors drive a hundred feet to the dumpster with bags of garbage on the back of their vehicles.

I even feel more creative now that I know I'm getting out of here.

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