My friend, The Perfect Body (TPB) and I were sitting around her house watching Gallery Girls last night (she's never seen it). And while discussing the likelihood of Chantal being a Horcrux (very likely), Liz being a huge bitch (at least she owns it like a bad ass) and Maggie's awesome hair, we came to some conclusions:
1: Moving to New York City would be totally awesome if we didn't have to be insanely poor (duh)
2: Moving to New York City would be awesome if we had tons of money we can throw around, do whatever we want and only ride the subway when we want to (I didn't mind the subway when I was there, I like the anonymity of it, but TPB disagrees).
3: Moving to New York City would be awesome if we could party every day and night like rock stars but still have normal and functional lives (you know, we don't want to be that girl)
4: Moving to New York City would be awesome if we were so nice and amazing that everyone loved us and wanted to be around us and all of the men would want to be with us and we had enough backbone to shoo away assholes and stand up to jerks but still lovable and amazing.
Then TPB said she'd be the upper and I'd be the downer. Because that's how we are.
This is where the plan broke down into giggles and staring off into the distance imagining our amazing doppleganger, New York livin' selves.