From the first episode I saw of “30 Rock,” I was kind of surprised to see how much I had in common with the main character, Liz (when Jack appraises her and includes the “takes up knitting every two years” quip, I thought, “Hey, me too!”).
As the seasons have gone past, I just nod when she tries to be organized by going to the container store (and then proceeds to drop them everywhere), when she falls for a guy and then tries to figure out what he’s doing by following him into an AA meeting, when she drinks too much wine and subsequently calls someone to yell at them.
My thoughts: “Oh yeah. Been there.”
Granted, I’m not Liz Lemon. I don’t have a Jack Donaghy helping me along, I don’t run a late-night TV show and I definitely don’t have Tracy Jordan and Jenna Maroney keeping me on my toes.
But as I slowly catch up on season 4 (the only TV shows I kept up with were LOST and Glee that final year of college), I found another gem. She notes the things she wants in a man (albeit in the middle of a dodgeball game — probably not the best place to come to this realization):
I want someone who will be monogamous and nice to his mother. I want someone who likes musicals, but knows to just shut his mouth when I’m watching LOST. And I want someone who thinks being really into cars is lame and strip clubs are gross. I want someone who will actually empty the dishwasher instead of just taking out forks as needed, like I do. I want someone with clean hands and feet and beefy forearms like a damn Disney prince. I want him to genuinely like me, even when I’m old. And that’s what I want.
The LOST and dishwasher parts particularly ring true. And this is why I’m probably going to be a version of Liz Lemon when I grow up.