Today, I could have done a number of things. I could have saved the world from a meteor crashing towards earth; cured cancer; created a comeback for disco-dancing; had sex; drunken two liters of chokolate sauce; written a Pulitzer prize-winning book..... but no. Alas, I fear that I may never experience these things. You know why? I'll give you 4 words:
Sex and the City.
Today, I spent the whole of my day, on the couch, watching Sex and the City. Yes. I did. And I loved every second of it. Don't you just love the humor and the honesty of the show? A true fan won't like the friends, and find them funny -- they will understand them, know how they think, and wish to be there themselves.
Or is that just me?
One of the reasons why I love Sex and the City (and believe me -- I really love it) is that it takes place in New York. Oooh, New York. I can just here the tone of Carrie Bradshaw's voice, as she quietly murmurs, or elatedly shouts, or just merely sighs: New York.
New York, oh New York.
I have never been there -- can you believe it? I, who even has an American mother, and a slightly demonic obsession with New York, has never, ever, in my entire life, been to my favorite city. But, oh, do I want to go! I don't really remember when I first acquired this need to go. Why New York? Why this particular city?
Yellow cabs with impeccably rude drivers, that will drive you home at 2am. The fact that you can easily see a gay man rollerblading in Central Park. Glamorous, fantastic, single women -- and hopefully men. Do these things only exist in our fantasies about New York? Is New York really as good as all those series lead us to think?
Yes. I tend to think so. Yes, I guess I swallow everything positive I hear about the city whole. Yes, I guess I have never been there myself, and can therefore of course not form a valid oppinion about the actual city.
But isn't New York more than that? Isn't New York more than a city? Isn't New York dreams and hopes, friendships and great loves and break-ups, chased and/or missed opportunities, in love and in life? Isn't New York really just the imperfect, realistic, romantisized and beloved (and therefore perfect) dream?
One thing is for sure: it's a dream I can't shake off.
I have some money saved up from an acting job I did once. It's a lot of money for a teenage-girl like me, so I've put it in the bank. It just might be enough to give me a trip to the City. Alone, in a crappy appartment for a summer, where I can work part-time at some crappy job, or take a writing course, or be a club-singer. Something. It's an adventure I haven't planned, but I've played it out in my mind several times.
Could I go? Would I dare? Could I combine my own life, and my dream?
All I know is, that New York will still be there tommorrow -- just waiting for girls like me.
Thanks for listening,
I Am Roseberry.