Being 25 and living in New York City can be rough on a girl. In a city with over 8 million people, the women somehow manage to out number the men. Second, for a girl who loves all things college sports, it's hard to find a bar where she can wallow in Big Ten splendor, drink cheap beer and still have money to get home on a Saturday night. Finally, trying to find a man who loves NCAA football more than he loves the New York Yankees is about as likely as finding a seat on the subway at rush hour.

My quest to find a man who can love me for my humor and intelligence, as well as my cut-throat competitive and die-hard football nature is not such a simple one.

Although I was born and raised in the suburbs of Columbus, Ohio, I've managed to mask my Midwestern roots under my contemporary New York identity. From first glance, I look like a big apple native: perfectly coiffed raven hair, pointy-toed stiletto shoes, a designer knock-off handbag from a guy down in SoHo, and the classic black Gucci sunglasses to adorn my head. Sure, my favorite drink is a dirty martini, extra dirty, I eat sushi two times a week, and always order my groceries off the internet and have them delivered.

It all looks and sounds pretty cosmopolitan, but the fact is no amount of New York will ever be able to "take the Midwest out of the girl."

-If you take me to a bar on any given night and there are sports on TV, I'm going to have a hard time concentrating on you and the conversation.

-If you get easily annoyed by a someone who checks her cell phone every half hour for score updates, then you'll be better off talking to the chick at the end of the bar.

-If you ask me out on a date between late August and late November, you'd better not expect to see me from 9AM-9PM on a Saturday.

-If you were expecting me to show up in the latest fashion from Barney's for brunch on a football weekend, you'll have to live with my favorite jeans, Ohio State tank-top, Big-Ten football sweatshirt, and a Buckeye temporary tattoo on my right (visible) cheek.

-If you decide to risk it and hang out in my favorite establishment on rivalry Saturday, you'd better not be one who is easily embarrassed by a girl who screams, shouts, paces, and gesticulates at the television like a man.

Any other day of the week you can find me pulling out my platinum Bloomingdale's card for a pair of designer shoes, fielding calls from my agent while I run to an audition, or reading the latest Broadway review in the New York Times. If you can handle the quintesential New York girl by day and a football freak by night, then we might have something to talk about.