HomeFull Moons and Safety Glass
Full Moons and Safety Glass
Balancing money, time, self, and family
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Let Me Count the Ways
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Buzzkilllers...Be GONE
Yesterday evening I FINALLY saw Sex and the City. I loved it. I bought the hype and I loved every minute of it.
Here’s the thing, I have had multiple sets of plans with multiple sets of friends and it kept getting canceled for one reason or another. Finally, my friend Shannan and I decided that since our husbands had spent all morning and a better part of the afternoon on the sailboat with the our 4 and 3-year olds respectively, we would sneak out for a little girl time. Yes, we needed a little face time with Carrie and the girls. And me, well, I needed a little face time with Big. Or John, as they kept calling him throughout the movie. To me, he’ll always be Big. Big. Big. Big. Ah…sweet digression. Since the hiatus between the show ending and the movie screening, I have become slightly reflective about my relationship to Carrie, Charlotte, Samantha, and Miranda. I have even become downright sentimental about them. Like most female watchers of the show (I can’t speak for the gay men--although I'd love to--that would be fab-u-lous) I think what was so appealing about that show was the frankness about sex from the female perspective, but more than that was the fact that I could locate a bit of each of the girls wrapped up in my own psyche and my own experience. I was in my mid-twenties when the show came out. I was single, living in LA, and carrying on (no pun intended) a little too much. I was too poor for labels but not too poor for love (to quote Carrie). As the girls progressed and their relationships grew up both with each other and with the men in their lives, so did mine. Like Carrie, I had a serious, marriage-bound relationship that ended (Aidan). Like Miranda, I focused hard on my career and developed a jaded and cynical edge. Like Charlotte, I always held out hope that my ultimate true love would find his way to me. And like Samantha…well…it was my twenties after all. As I sat through the movie and watched the delightful-if-not-predictable plot unfold I realized that the arc of their lives, as carefully crafted by Darren Star and Michael Patrick King as it was, still paralleled my own life has it is now. Stable and loving relationship (yes, with the love of my life), kids, good job, intermittent sex life, lack of waxing. As the lights came on at the end of the movie, people clapped. I just looked around. The theater was full of women…all kinds of women…old and young and clearly from all different backgrounds. Shannan and I were delighted. We had a great time. As I climbed into my car to drive home, I was musing over the details of the movie in my head. Thinking about all of my own experiences that the film had elicited in me. Drifting down that slow river of memories I was suddenly jolted out of my sweet and bittersweet remembrances. Stupid NPR. Why did I keep you on my radio before I went in to the theater? Why, why, why?? The last think I felt like listening to was violence against Africanos in South Africa. Afraid for their lives, huddled in shelters, awaiting deportation. Ugh. It was the ultimate buzz kill. So, I switched off the sound and drifted down memory lane for another 5 minutes. That person that I was drew to a close as I pulled into my driveway. Kids, husband, house, job, and yes, NPR, all waiting for me on the other side of my front door. Ah…sweet digression. 2 comments from 2 users
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posted by
hmoeckli
on Jun 10, 2008 at 10:25 AM
posted by
creatress
on Jun 10, 2008 at 01:04 PM
I love what you said about identifying with a part of each of the women. I think that is VERY true, though I relate to Carrie the least. No surprise there! A closet over jewelry. NEVER!!! I'm gald you liked it. :)
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What I love about the show and movie is that it's creators are willing to show the painful side of things. When Carrie, or any of the girls, makes a mistake, she pays the consequences. It's very difficult to be that honest when you are writing a fictional character.