For approximately 400 billion years I’ve imagined how amazing it would be to live in New York. I would have a Carrie Bradshaw apartment, Carrie Bradshaw clothes, a Carrie Bradshaw closet, and a Carrie Bradshaw social life. (She could keep her love life, it was a little too messed up for me.) Okay, so maybe I haven’t always imagined how amazing it would be to live in New York. Maybe I’ve just always imagined how amazing it would be to live like Carrie Bradshaw. Regardless of what my real motives were for yearning for a life in the city, the person I saw on my very first day of my (better than Carrie Bradshaw’s) job gave me all the confirmation I needed to know that this is going to be an amazing chapter in my life.
No, it wasn’t Sarah Jessica Parker or her super adorable twins but a close second. Er…close third? Alright, no less than the fourth best person to see on my first day. It was Cynthia Nixon and her luck of the Irish red-headed youngest son. I couldn’t help but think this was a good sign. This third chapter of my life is going to be nothing less than stellar. All because I saw Miranda in the City!
ENDING NOTE: Um, New Yorkers, how often do you see her on the subway because I was the only one freaking out and that’s just plain not acceptable. Do better.
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