Anyone who’s spent any real amount of time with me knows about my undying love for one Tina Fey. My love for her is so strong and so real that I would quickly and without regret marry that woman, and live a beautiful, fun-filled, joyful life.
Alas, I can’t marry Ms. Fey because she’s already married (that’s the only thing stopping me. Because I’d totally be gay for Tina Fey. If that were a real thing). But as I was walking around on the UWS, as I often do for work, I thought about the prospect of meeting her and the greater prospect of staying in New York for as long as possible – a topic I’ll probably discuss at a later time.
See, Tina Fey is my ideal person. She’s smart and funny, but she’s also Liz Lemon and she seems real. I can’t tell you when this love affair began, but it’s definitely grown in the past few months as I’ve thought about my relationships. I guess, in a more perfect world, I’d be besties with Tina. And when I look around at the people I’m currently friends with, many of whom have a myriad of great qualities, I’m admittedly slightly disappointed that none of them is Tina Fey.
In reality, this love for Tina Fey probably comes from a combination of things: overly-idyllic views of female friendship, escapism, and the desire for romantic intimacy. The first thing isn’t entirely bad except for when it leads to the second thing. Sometimes, when I look around at the people I’m surrounded with, there’s a tiny part of me that wants to retreat. Sometimes that desire comes from the fact that I’m a little unwilling to make any necessary investments in the future of the relationships; other times the desire comes from me feeling overwhelmed by all the things that could be part of a close friendship. (The last thing in the list – the desire for romantic intimacy – is pretty self-explanatory. Men are very attractive.)
In any case, I’m going to keep my fingers crossed that I’ll meet Tina Fey. I feel like I’m so close to making this happen. And I think I would actually explode if it did.