In my short time in the city known for its bright lights, angry strangers and big dreams, I found myself falling rapidly in love with a place I had only spent five days in. This concrete jungle is vast and intimidating, but it also feels oddly familiar and safe? Sure, it may not be the most classically romantic city. It does occasionally have dead rats lying on the subway floors, and you may find yourself watching a person in DC shoes make what looks to be their first attempt at break dancing, it still somehow feels so comfortably empty. I don’t mean Times Square (which is what I had commonly associated the city with before going). I mean the random streets you find yourself walking on. Feeling cold water hit your face and looking up to realize it’s spilling from a window air-conditioner, walking past what I believe to be boarded up construction areas and seeing the “post no bills” signs, walking past an American Apparel and watching the trendy white girls flock in; all of these hilariously disgusting qualities about the city are what make it my favorite place. You can count on every street light and piece of concrete to have copious amounts of stickers and posters plastered all over it, you can most definitely rely on every street corner having a Starbucks, and you can always count on getting lost. Being confused is the best part! So, as I end my personal description of the city, I just want to say thank you. Thank you, New York City, for giving me a place to dream about when where I’m sleeping gets to be too much.