my future in the gran manzana

Remember when I went to New York City twice last year? I had a realization today while I was swimming about that incredible city.

2011 marked a NYC year for me. 

First, I discovered 30ROCK and became besties with Liz Lemon. She just understands me. I mean the woman makes me laugh until I am in tears and she has a terrible time with men. I miss her. 

Then I went to NYC for the first time since I was 14 and LOVED it, even though it was hotter than hell, smelled like garbage and a married Cuban man at the conference put the moves on me. I get that in G.R. though so I felt right at home. I had coffee with Liz Lemon and ate fried rice in China Town with Tracy Jordan. And someone told me that there is no green in NYC but believe me there is, right by the Hudson River. No bathrooms but there are bushes to hide behind at 3am.

Anyways, then while procrastinating, which I am doing now, I discovered Mad Men. Yet another tv show I was instantly hooked on and uncoincidentally takes place in NYC. I watched all five or six or however many seasons there are during my first month of unemployment. There is always a character I connect with. I can't stand waiting until the show starts up again to see what Peggy is up to.

Thirdly, I went to NYC again. The epic and unforgettable road trip of 2011. Despite the mishaps with parking tickets, impounds and roaming up and down central park avenue for hours... I still left the city in love.

Then, right as the year was about to end... I discovered How I Met Your Mother. And in less than a week I have watched three solid seasons.

Shamelessly.

What does this all mean? I don't watch television but the three shows I have somehow been united with are all set in NYC. It's a sign. I have this sense that if I were to move to the city I would drink a lot, be overwhelmed with all of the office affairs at my new job, laugh a lot and have a group of best friends that I do everything with. And they would all be single and it would be glorious. I would also walk a lot and save a hell of a lot of money on car insurance, car payments, parking tickets, speeding tickets and body shop repairs for dinging up my car while looking at things like homeless men trying to hide their stupid sign from the police sitting behind me. I am never giving another dime to a person claiming to be homeless again.

Call me heartless.

Now I just need to find a television show about Dominicans living in NYC and it will seal. the. deal.