You might think this is going to be a post about three women living in a hotel but you are mistaken. Okay, no you’re not. You’re actually right. This is a blog post about three women living in a hotel. I wouldn’t really call it a suite either but it has its benefits.
For the past month I have been able to walk around the corner and grab a cup of coffee anytime of the day or night, I’ve taken advantage of the dry cleaning at the front desk, and I’ve saved on quarters by doing my laundry onsite. Using hotel laundry utilities is cheaper than laundry mats (knowledge based off my experience thus far). I’ve seen the lobby full of life and people chatting away, people sectioned in the same category as my family. I’ve also seen it empty and silent. They set up breakfast and cereal at 2am. Witnessed that one, one late night too. I’ve spent multiple nights skyping friends in the sectioned off room of the lobby as well. Many nights of phone calls, blogging, and highlights of the Knicks have taken place here. I’ve used the gym… once. Nonetheless, I have ran on a treadmill with Top Gun playing on TV.
Evenings have been spent with my mom and sister in the same room. I thank God for the aero bed Meg and Jay gave me so I don’t have to sleep on the pull out bed. I have scanned the first of countless bridal magazines in this very location. This circumstance has even given me the excuse (really, need) to purchase slippers.
I’ve met the security guard who patrols The Marriot every night. The staff is of course, no longer acquaintances but friends, who have laughed and took part in some of my odd mishaps this season. John* does not believe in off days (he didn’t take off for Christmas Eve or Christmas) but has scheduled off for New Year’s Eve. I have the most wonderful, sweetest housekeeper. She is from El Salvador and has two younger boys. We speak Spanish together and she’s rather kind because I suck at it.
I’ve spent the Christmas season here and yes, our door in the hallway is the only one with its very on wreath. Looking from the outside you know exactly which room is ours because we decorated the windows with lights and Christmas spirit. Opening gifts and spending Christmas morning here was not so bad at all, not with family. I shall be ringing in the New Year and waking up to January in the same place.
I’ve had multiple conversations with people and families who are rebuilding their homes. Different people, similar stories. This really fit, blonde, optimistic woman, Sarah, who is here with her husband and young boys, they’re in limbo right now. Candy who I met in the process of finishing my laundry, she’s here with her husband, cute dog, and two teenage sons (who don’t bring girls home yet. Which she actually wants… because she’s tired of being surrounded by men?) Their house in Oakdale is being remodeled.
I say all of this to explain, well, I don’t know. Just to prove that hotel life has been an adventure and I’ve met some good people along the way. An adventure that is coming to a close because FEMA has run out of money and we have two weeks to find another living scenario. Hotel living has been this weird space in time that has existed but not really? I can’t even explain it.
I have to say, the mysterious lifestyle of a nomad has left many bewildered and even the “stable minded” sometimes jealous of the pick-up-and-go-no-worries-in-the-world-everything-will-work-out-in-it’s-own-way mentality. WELL, I don’t mind the curveballs life throws, I’m briefed on the reality that life is not a static line, and I hope and pray that I handle things to the best of my ability BUT I’m readdddyyyyy to close this chapter. I’m not sure if I make a very good long-term nomad either. I’m tired of not having a home and each day I do my best to give my worries to God but it’s a workout. Your bet on where I will be in the next few weeks is as best as mine so as soon as I know… I’ll fill you in.
All in all, it has been a suite life with some sweet moments. Signing off, Gina.
*All names have been changed to protect the identity of all persons involved in this post. Let’s be real, my writings are not famous but I feel weird using real names. Call me strange.