Over the past six months, Roxy has become a part of our family in a way that we never expected. After all, she is just a “brilliant silver” 2010 Ford Fusion- a mere material possession. Maybe it’s the fact that we practically lived in her as we traversed the country during the final days before our marriage ceremony. Or maybe it’s that she represented a connection to the country at large every time we passed a Ford dealership. It may sound stupid to you, but it is very real to us.

We spent our last moments with Roxy on the coldest, dreariest day of the year. We took some pictures, shot some video, and listened to her Sync voice one more time.  As she drove off to meet her maker (Jason Camp of the Los Angeles Media Fleet Division), Chris and looked in the opposite direction to keep from bawling. We will miss Roxy, but the bottom line cost of purchasing a car of her quality just doesn’t jive with our current financial goals.

To borrow from Marley and Me, I have these final words about Roxy, arguably the world’s greatest car:

“What I really wanted to say was how this car had touched our souls and taught us some of the most important lessons of our lives. Roxy taught us about living each day with unbridled exuberance and joy, about seizing the moment and following your heart. She taught me to appreciate the simple things- a drive into the sunset, singing along to the radio, and traveling between the cities of the people you love most.”

Side note: To all the asshats who thought we changed our name to Ford because we wanted to get free stuff, I hope you’ll now find someone else to verbally assault. We’re Fordless Fords… and we’re cool with that.

Thinking…

Thinking…

Heidi Fleiss…

Thinking…

This morning, Chris and I took the first legal step in changing our names. For those of you who are thinking of taking on a new last name of your own, here’s the deal (at least for California):

1. You have to fill out five forms in triplicate and submit them to the Superior Court.

2. You have to write a check for $370.

3. You have to stand and wait for those forms to be filed while listening to the world’s most obnoxious woman argue over a small claims case in a voice that rivals that of the Giant from Jack in the Beanstalk. *

4. You have to repeat steps one through three for your spouse. Yep, that means you’ve just written checks totaling $740.

5. You have to walk down the street, past a selection of unsavory characters asking you for money… which you now don’t have because you’ve given it all to the City of San Francisco.

6. You walk up the stairs to the office of The Recorder, the cheapest local law journal in the City, where you file your public Change of Name forms for $49.75 each.

7. Eight weeks later, you show up at the Superior Court for a hearing that lasts approximately five minutes. Your chosen name cannot carry fraudulent intent and cannot interfere with the rights of others (ie: I cannot name myself Britney Spears unless I have a really good reason for it- which frankly, I’d love to hear if you’ve got one…)

8. You go through the process of changing your name on everything that defines you: your social security card, your driver’s license, your bank accounts, your credit cards, your gym membership, and so on. You can also change your name on your birth certificate (or gender- but that’s another story for another time.)

9. Two and half months and more than eight hundred dollars later, you’re the proud owner of a name that you’d better damn well like.

To those of you who are thinking of doing what we’ve done, a word of advice: have one person change his/her name before you file for a marriage license. This will cut the cost in half once you’ve signed on the dotted line. We didn’t go this route because we spent over three months trying to decide on the perfect last name…

*this may not happen to you. I hope.

No matter what the movie, whether it be Monster in Law or Rachel Getting Married, parents are painted as the biggest cause of pre-wedding angst for cinematic brides and grooms. Chris and I, ever the gullible, expected that to be the case in real life. We tried to avoid the awkward parent meet up by combining it with our rehearsal dinner and were shut down by six angry parents who most definitely wanted to meet prior to any group activities.

Yep, you read that right: six parents. Chris only comes with two, while I have four on my side, three of which have been with me basically all of my life. Before you start thinking my dad’s a candidate for the next season of Big Love, let me clarify. My mom and dad split up when I was a wee little girl. A year or so later, my mom met and married my stepdad John. Given that he was around for all of my pre-teen and adolescent angst, he has pretty strong credentials as one of my parents. My dad’s current wife came much later in the game (last year), but is probably the feistiest of the bunch. Imagining these four teamed up with Chris’s nice, pleasant, mid-western parents was enough to make me consider smoking the grass, if you know what I mean.

Turns out that compatibility was not the issue I should have been worried about. The six of them got along like sorority girls at a trunk sale while Chris and I sat on the sidelines like last year’s fashion. I think we probably spoke a combined five sentences the entire night. It went something like this:

Jaime: So on Saturday, we’ll-

Mom #1: So Kathy, where did you get that sweater? It’s positively divine.

Chris: Well, that sweater actually reminds me that it might be chilly at Saturday’s ceremony and-

Dad #1: We should probably talk about Saturday’s ceremony. Dad #2, what do you think?

Dad #2: Well, maybe we should ask the kids when they’re around.

Chris and Jaime: We’re right here!!

During dessert, we finally got our moment in the sun when we announced our name choice. We figured, hell, they gave birth to us and stuff, which probably gives them some special privileges over the rest of Saturday’s guests. I must say, I was quite relieved when Chris’s mom positively beamed at our selection, given that she shares quite a history with the name.

Special Note: I think our parents would have caroused late into the night if I hadn’t put the kibosh on the evening around ten thirty to get my beauty sleep. This just proves two things. 1) I need a lot of rest and 2) I am officially older than my parents.

Both thoughts=disturbing.

You’re probably wondering why, especially if you weren’t around this past weekend to see us get married. While I’d rather be writing about our amazing weekend right now, this decision seems to require some explanation for people, so here we go.

Let’s recap how Chris and I went about deciding to choose our own last name:

1) I didn’t want to take Chris’s name and he wasn’t quite comfortable with the idea of there being two Mrs. Hodges (the first being his mother).

2) Chris didn’t want to take my name, which is fine, because Mr. Case is in fact, my father.

3) We didn’t want to hyphenate our names, thus creating a new disease, the Case (of the) Hodges.

4) We wanted to choose a name that would work for the whole family, which may or may not someday include children, dogs, and random goldfish.

When we first started talking about the idea of coming up with our own new name, we were sitting at a breakfast table in Charleston, South Carolina. The name “Ford” came up immediately, given that we were having such an amazing journey and we felt like the name encompassed our common experience. We quickly tossed the name aside as pandering and considered everything from Solstice to Equinox, Katmar (our moms’ first names combined) to Dwyer (Chris’s grandmother’s maiden name). We even established a few rules:

1) The name had to be American, because neither of us thought it was appropriate to take on an ethnic last name just because it “sounded cool.”

2) It couldn’t be the maiden name stolen from a good friend.

3) It couldn’t be a first name, last name. (ie: Chris Ryan, Jaime Bruce)

4) It couldn’t hurt anyone (ie: taking my stepdad’s last name would hurt my father)

5) It had to be easy to say and spell so that we don’t torture our future kids.

After two months of long conversations, intense fights, and hours of thinking, we both realized that the first name we came up with, Ford, was exactly the right choice. Here’s why:

1) The word “Ford”, as defined by dictionary.com, means “to cross a river.” It implies strength and determination, two qualities Chris and I hope to embody in our marriage.

2) President Gerald Ford, an adopted member of the Ford family, was from Grand Rapids, Chris’s hometown. Chris holds Gerald Ford in high regard, as does the rest of his family.

3) Betty Ford helped raise awareness for breast cancer and was considered a leader in  the Women’s Movement. She is also the founder of the world-famous Betty Ford Clinic, which helps treat substance abuse and addiction.

4) Ford is the only American car company that didn’t take bailout money.

5) Henry Ford founded the Ford Motor Company with the idea that the common man should and would be able to afford his own car. The Ford Motor Company still works to achieve this goal today.

6) Roxy has been like a family member to us, and since her last name is Ford, we’re happy to share it with her. Even though we’re going to have to say goodbye to her this week, she’ll always live very large in our memories.

7) Driving around the country seeing the Ford sign everywhere made Chris and I feel like a part of a larger family- we loved that.

8 ) Chris’s mother has an extensive history with Ford.

9) My father, who was the student body president of Fresno State, was given a Mustang fastback during his presidency.

10) My first truck was a Ford Ranger- a vehicle that is infamous to anyone who ever drove with me in high school. My brother, who was one of my best friends growing up, always had Mustangs.

11) My grandfather Bud loves driving around the entire country in his Ford Ranger.

It goes on and on. No matter what other names we came up with, Ford kept coming back.

Now that we’re married, we’ll begin the process of changing our name legally. We plan on keeping our maiden and bachelor names as our middle names, so that people will always know where we’ve come from.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask.

Today’s spam reminded me of a task that Chris and I are politely avoiding: deciding which last name to choose. Here’s what the message had to offer:

Hi Jaime!
Congratulations on your marriage!
Please use the following code to receive $5.00 off of your name-change account: PM080

MissNowMrs.com has simplified the name-change process, to assist you in an easy transition from Miss…Now…Mrs!

The mere wording of the ad makes my skin crawl. It’s just creepy  to get a discount for changing your name. Meanwhile, I would have no idea what to tell MissNowMrs., as we’re stuck between a rock and two names. One is the name that started it all over brunch back in Charleston. The other is a name that came up four weeks later after countless hours of discussion. Both are good solid names that won’t get our future kids laughed out of elementary school. Even Roxy likes both names, and she’s pretty much picky about everything.

If you have any suggestions of how we can decide between the final two names, I’m game. One caveat: I can’t tell you what the names actually are, or I’ll risk the Wrath of Chris.

At this point, if you are not a regular reader, you may be saying, “Wait, I thought they did a road trip instead of a wedding.” Actually we did a road trip in lieu of a huge event, visiting many of our out of state family and friends, but are still having a ceremony and dinner for some local family and friends.

Speaking of guests, we are also getting RSVPs from the invitees. Understandably, there are some regrets. But we have had at least one pleasant surprise – Roxy will be at our wedding!

Monday was the original date of her return to the media fleet, but Ford Motor Company has graciously allowed us to keep her for a few more weeks so we can keep Wedding Road Trip going. We’ve continued interviewing friends and family in California, and Roxy Fusion will be helping us visit places like Fresno, Los Angeles, Marin, and San Luis Obispo. If you’re coming to the wedding, be sure to say hello to her- she’ll be driving us up the aisle.

Just kidding. We’re not corporate shills.

This morning, as she drove Chris and me to Crunch, she even complimented me on my slightly-more-toned physique. We then shared a b0nding moment as Lady Gaga played over the radio. When the song finished, Chris uttered a sentence that stopped me cold:

“I could live outside of the City now, I mean, if you want to. I don’t think I mind driving anymore.”

I’m sorry, what? This from the guy who swore he’d never live outside of the City, would never drive a car more than once a month, and would never consider living somewhere like Napa or Sonoma and commute in a few days a week.

If he tells me that he’ll also live in a gated community (the equivalent of death to all urban planners), I will fully believe that Ford has been serving him the good punch behind my back.

So I ever-so-carefully tapped the bumper of the car in front of me, edging into the spot. In the matter of about two seconds, the vehicle shot down the hill, up onto the sidewalk and into a nearby planter. Luckily (or unluckily, perhaps?) there were no tourists on the sidewalk at that moment or they would have been as flat as road maps.

Needless to say, you can understand why I was nervous to take Roxy out for a spin on the streets of San Francisco. After all, just because she was a good highway vehicle for six weeks doesn’t guarantee that she can charge up the hills and take the hairpin corners on some of the busiest streets in California. However, having not driven in a day and a half, I was itching to get back on the road. In a strange way, Roxy has become like the family pet, requiring food, water, and a good spin around the block.

Roxy did not disappoint. I was impressed with how she held her ground on the top of Divisadero Street, which is so steep that you can see all of San Francisco in one glance before diving back down into the City (and sometimes into the car in front of you). She also earned my respect by being uncannily good at finding the perfect parking spaces. She slid into spots right in front of the gym, the grocery store, and the post office.

In short, Roxy completely failed me. Why? Because I still want to keep her. I was hoping that after taking her on a tour of the City, she’d cough, sputter, and begrudgingly chug her way around. But no. She fits in with all of the BMWs, Audis, and Priuses like she belongs here.

Maybe she does?

Dear god. That may have been the cheesiest sentence ever written.

But not the cheesiest sentence ever said, which I’ll have to credit to Jillian of The Bachelorette. As I was typing, she uttered the following puke worthy sentence:

“Every woman dreams of the day when she’s in the kitchen, worried about cooking the perfect meal, and a man walks up behind her and gives her a kiss.”

Jillian, honey, this is not 1959. It’s 2009, and all I dream of is Chris in the kitchen, cooking the perfect meal as I read yet another trashy ChickLit novel while simulataneously eating a handful of carb-free fudge. (hey, this is my fantasy- it could exist.)

The trip is not over yet.

With 36 days left until we get married, we’re just over halfway through with our journey. Sure, we’ve covered most of the major mileage (over 13,000 miles in 44 days!), but we still have California to consider. That’s right- we’re syncing up with the peeps we’ve loved and admired over the past two years. We’re going to head up to the North Bay to chat with Anna and Jim, parents of one of my favorite people in the universe, Leif. We’ll shoot out to the Central Valley to chat up Kindra, a former swim friend and faithful Wedding Road Trip follower. We’ll hit up the wedding of Will and Jenny, two young Republicans with an optimistic view on life and love.

At some point during the next 36 days, we’ll also talk with all four of my biological grandparents, our brothers and sisters, and several other people who have had an influence on our lives. By the time we get married, we hope to chat with everyone on our list about what they think about this whole marriage thing.

So buckle your seat belts, there’s more to come. California’s a big broke state and we’re going to cover all of it.

P.S. Yes, if we haven’t written about you, we’re going to- consider Monday and Tuesday of this week a little bit of catch up while Roxy gets a nice, long nap.