sarahcentric

“Many waters waiting to become a river.” If you want more than that one perfect Junot Diaz phrase at a time, you’re just going to have enter my giveaway. It’s time that you read The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao. It is time.

I am racist towards Brooklyn.

Wait, AT Brooklyn? FOR Brooklyn? Whatever. I just want to punch that borough in the face sometimes. Yeah, yeah, yeah..I am sure much of my strong opinion on Park Slope and Fort Greene comes from jealousy. Would I like a fair-trade coffee shop on every corner in Queens? Definitely. Do I want to live in a brownstone just like the Huxtables and have friends over for dinner parties to discuss capoeira classes and the slow-food movement? Of course. But there’s so much more behind my blanket Brooklyn statements!

1) Must everyone of you dress like you could be invited to the wedding from “Rachel Getting Married” at all times? Don’t you ever run out to the store in pajama bottoms, rain boots, and a college hoodie?! It makes me terribly insecure.

2) Why is it impossible to get there from Queens on public transportation in less than 7 hours? And p.s. no one is allowed to bring up the G train anymore. Yes, of course it’s supposed to go from Queens to Brooklyn. But a train that runs maybe twice a year- and when it DOES run stops where-ever, whenever like some freewheeling cowboy- isn’t a real option for me. Stop bringing the G up, please.

I have had far too many Brooklyn fiascoes in my 8 years here to ever trust that borough again. Nope… Queens, mid-town Manhattan, and the occasional trip to the Village are just fine by me, thank you very much.

But then Julie called, and in a very funny way; insisting that our mutual friend Maura transfer the call to me at work. Nothing like the reminder that you are an adult who is now eligible for a telephone transfer. Then she was all, “…you should come to the Wonder-full party tomorrow! They spin Stevie Wonder music all night, how can that not be fun?!” I suppose it could be a nightmare if you’re not into Stevie Wonder. Either way it would certainly be an experience. How could I apply my “not a problem” philosophy to a Brooklyn trip? .

First of all…no trains, only cabs. Brooklyn never has a chance with me after a nightmare subway ride. I had to pretend I was a rich lady with a dog named Dollar where cab fares are drops in the bucket. I think the rides to and fro cost me about $732.93. You do get an excellent view of Manhattan from the BQE. Just pray the driver knows where he is going. When we came to a stoplight and saw a grown woman in a hipster outfit, riding a banana-seat bike in the middle of the night, I knew we had arrived in Fort Greene.

Don’t worry, Julie actually lives ABOVE one of the fair-trade cafes and immediately offered me a Brooklyn lager. Every Queens molecule inside wanted to scream, “yeah yeah, whatever! Can you guys drink gallons of Greek coffee, buy olive you’ve ever dreamed of in bulk, and drink Czech beer?! That’s right..I didn’t THINK so! In your FACE!” But it was the tiny details all over Julie’s place that put me at ease. Erika, the cool friend visiting before she heads off to India for the summer. The apartment renovations Julie and her roommates were living through, requiring that they take showers in an empty apartment downstairs. Julie’s amazing high school senior photo taken by Glamour Shots that she proudly displayed on the refrigerator door. And, of course, the Popple; a toy that I have not seen since I was 6 years old. I recognize random stuff like this right away. This is how New Yorkers make homes in our strange and tiny living spaces, no matter which borough you live in. We Queens-ians and Brooklyn-ites really are all the same inside. Integration now!

The similarities just kept coming!
-We need to eat something before this party, french fries and a pre-game cocktail? CHECK
-Why is there a line to get into this thing? We bought our tickets already, this isn’t Manhattan! CHECK
-Was that guy hitting on me? Yes. CHECK
-Ok, enough of this random salsa beat…oh, they’re playing “Sir Duke”! CHECK
-It’s so f–ing hot in here! CHECK

I hit my wall a little earlier than Julie and her friends, no surprise considering I don’t like to be uncomfortable for more than two seconds at a time. But who knew sweat from dancing and mild deaf-ness would make a trip to Brooklyn totally worth the million dollar cab fare?

There are few lessons more valuable than doing something outside of your comfort zone. The new experience is all shiny and electric. And the time away from home makes your home your home all over again.

Think outside the borough.