Only kidding, I’m not moving to Brooklyn, though it can be a lovely place to visit, and I’m sure many people love to live there. But I refuse to live in a city that only accepts cash. What is this 2004? Catch up, B. The first trip of the week was back to the Brooklyn Art Library to look at more sketchbooks. Trent’s had already left to go on tour, so sadly we couldn’t check it out again. Sorry, Trent. We did check out about 20 others from the 2011 tour. This was my favorite artist we saw. The next day we trekked over to the Brooklyn Bridge. I’ve seen it from several other bridges, I’ve even driven on it, but I’ve never made the famous walk across it. Today was the day. There isn’t much to say about it, it’s a bridge, has a nice view of the city, half of it has walls up so you can’t even see anything, and half of it seems to be under construction. Nonetheless, it was still a nice walk, and the better views are from the Brooklyn side. It’s certainly not as glamourous and romantic as Steve and Miranda make it seem on Sex and the City. Do I get kicked off the island for saying that? Once into Brooklyn we walked like 20 blocks trying to find the subway and a bathroom. Both seemed impossible, but with 3 phones out navigating the way, we finally found a Starbucks sitting on top of the F train. Which we then took for 45 minutes until the very lost stop. Arriving in Coney Island.
It’s fun in an eerie, rundown, carnie town sort of way, a place I wouldn’t want to be after sundown. If I didn’t keep getting spooked by my own shadow I would have taken more pictures of the closed rides. There was a calendar with the dates that the park does open, and they claim to be open several days this month but I think that’s just a scheme to have children lured into the Ghost Hole. It was overcast, windy and cold when we got there, so maybe it would have been nicer on a hot, sunny day. I’ll give it one more visit before it goes on the “Zoey Doesn’t Go There” list. Also on that list: NY grocery store the day before SuperBowl Sunday, a nightclub with less than 8 of my friends to surround me, a roof that requires jumping onto a tree to get down from. With a professional photographer’s eye and camera, this would be a dream place for some great pictures or set for a movie about a serial killer. This is what I got with my iPhone.
We managed to escape just before the sun set and the real weirdos starting pouring in. Since we had another long train ride back home, we spent that time practicing fishtales and upside-down braids.
More tomorrow about the new Barbies and Afghan food.