"Manhattan, of course."
Dear,
Don't be a visitor. Don't shake my hand, don't bring any wine, don't carry a bag with you. Don't ask if you can come by at 7pm, or if you can have my 5-11pm next Tuesday. Don't ask if I've got any beer in the fridge, or if you can come up to use the toilet. Don't patronise me when you're feeling out of sorts, don't act like you like the brownies I baked if they actually suck and don't check your watch to see if our time is up.
Bring nothing, and walk in like it's your own home. Mess up the couch and let me rage at your tardiness. Abduct my time without question, and call it a date even if it's last minute. Complain you're hungry and raid the fridge without my consent. Tell me when you're feeling out of sorts, in the least civil (but non-violent) way possible. Rant about it, be illogical, be very bitchy (I know you can, c'mon) and wrestle me if all else fails. I might even let you win, depending on how unhappy you are. Cry in front of me - Okay I don't know this really scares me and I might do some awkward shuffle before giving you a... uhh... hug. That's supposed to work, right? Tell me that my brownies suck, then offer to buy the ice cream.
And if you're inviting me over for a visit, say things like:
"Absolutely. You can stay as long as you'd like. (;"
I can't wait for summer 2014.