Newww Yorrk Ciiity! (read like the guy from the salsa commercial)

She has a hot boyfriend. A job at a big newspaper that she got right out of college. She lives in a sweet condo.

But now, she's got a hot fiance. A need/desire to look for a new job. And, oh, yeah, she called last night to say she's moving from the Toledo suburb of Maumee, Ohio, to New York City with said fiance.

I'm so sure.

I'm so sure she got engaged last weekend in Las Vegas with a story that'd make directors get Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan on the phone. Or, Hugh Grant. That's just my two cents.

We don't get to see each other too often, but the thought of her moving to a Big, Bad City where both she and I acknowledged only murder and mayhem happen, usually graphic in nature ("CSI" and "Law & Order" fans ...), is a shock.

You mean, she won't be in Toledo next time I pass through? (OK, so that doesn't happen a lot ... But still.) She'll have a different area code. Well, different than everyone else's I know there. She'll be riding subways. I just eat there. She'll be over there. I'll be right here.

But, she sounds happy. So, whaddya gonna do?

Dave: "Go to New York on vacation!"

Then there's that.