Long Island New York, Monday January 19

Poor Howard. It’s 4:30am and the guy is carting me to the airport again. It’s a good thing he loves me J I spent the weekend celebrating Kristen’s bachelorette party with her in Temecula on Saturday. The group wine tasted and ate lunch together, but much to my dismay I kept away from the wine so that I could drive home that night. The trek back to Oakland took about 7 hours, and I was knocking on Howard’s door by 10pm. We spent an awesome Sunday together eating breakfast out and hiking, and now here we are at the crack of dawn getting ready to say goodbye again for another week.

Kristen (3rd from left) bachelorette party

Hiking in Oakland 

 Now, I realize it may be hard to empathize with someone who is about to visit New York and Honolulu in one week. That’s cool. BUT this travel is starting to get to me. I have seen some incredible places, met up with friends all over the country, and networked professionally with some very on the ball folks. And still, at the end of the day, greasy breakfast at a dingy diner and a long hike in one of Oakland’s many beautiful parks calms my innards in a way that the excitement of traveling just doesn’t. I’ve never thought of myself as a homebody, but I’m learning a lot through this process and I’ve learned that I really do appreciate the grounding that only home provides. Oh man, I’m getting old.

So the airport…Long flight during which I pretty much just sleep. Wake up in JFK around 3:30pm and rent a car to travel to Centerport, New York, which is on Long Island. Prior to this trip, I had heard poor things about Long Island (“Guido culture,” or Jersey Shore-type horror stories). However, my experience driving the streets is different. Everything is here: stores, groceries, beach, and small towns. It’s basically a suburb of New York, and reminds me a bit of Oakland (with a lot less personality).

I arrive at the Air B&B around 6pm. My host Kay meets me after picking up Boey (yes, that is his name), another guest staying at the house this evening. By the way, the house is on Bittersweet Ct. So I’m staying at Bittersweet Ct. with Boey. This should have been my first clue. The Air B&B ad had admittedly been a bit quirky, and I figured I would just have a good story at the end of it. Kay’s rates were much lower than the surrounding area (probably another clue), and she had several great reviews. I knew the house would be shared, but figured that the housemates were simply roommates.

WRONG. Upon arrival, Kay (thick Long Island accent, painting attire, pressured speech), buzzes around and tells me about the Meetup group she runs (“I’m having a gathering tonight, kinda like the opposite of a support group”), the displaced children she takes in from Long Island (“we have a big problem with kids getting abandoned by their parents here”), and the men she is allowing to stay in the house in exchange for their construction services (“they are building a bed for the room you were going to be staying in, but I upgraded you to the best spot in the house”).

The “upgrade” is to the “Medieval Room,” one of the many fine features mentioned in the ad. Before I go into the room I should probably set the stage with a general description of the house: front door opens to a home-constructed, wooden library with Game of Thrones (is that a record? A book?) proudly displayed on the most prominent shelf. The smell of incense nearly chars my nostrils. Full-length curtains are drawn to invite guests into hallways (“I’ll close the curtain tonight, and that will signal the group to remain quiet and know you are here”). There’s an “artist room” with loud mural paintings, a fake tree with ornaments/glitter hanging in it, several hoola hoops, dim lighting, and a guitar (“there’s a stage there, where we do open mic once a month”).

And now, the Medieval Room. Sigh. Trellised wooden bed (“my ex boyfriend once split his head on these wooden beams and got 20 stitches- don’t run into it in the morning”), Egyptian pharaohs statues (medieval?), a rope hanging from the vanity, and SEVERAL WEAPONS (double edged swords, literally, and a vast array of other sword varietals). The weapons are proudly displayed and are hanging from strong magnets that are posted to the walls. Over everything, there is a thick layer of dust.

"Medieval" decor

The queen's bed

 I inquire about the unusual room, and which point Kay stops to pause for the first time in the 20 minutes I have been there. She tears up and explains that her 20-something year old son, who DIED IN SEPTEMBER, owned these things in this room WHERE I AM STAYING. She loved him. Now, I’m one to roll with the punches and find humor in bizarre situations. So, in no time I was texting my friends in California about this experience. But I also had the good sense to get the hell out of that house for a few hours.

I make my way to The Lark, a brewery Kay recommends that turns out to be surprisingly good. I eat an amazing burger and fries and taste some delicious craft beer. I run a couple errands and make my way back to the halfway house. I creep in as quietly as possible, and see the curtain to the hallway drawn back as promised. Through the curtain I hear “Megan, is that you?” and think, OMG it’s Kay’s dead son.  Luckily, it’s just Boey wanting some company. We chat for a bit, and I learn he’s an Army reservist from the Bay Area looking at medical school programs in Northport. We could end up working at the same VA one day. Weird. I find him a bit self-involved and dominating and decide my tolerance for him is short after about an hour. I head into the dark abyss that is my room for the evening, and fall asleep late (I wonder why?)