SATC

Here it is. No girlie blog is complete without it.. and since I have been delving into feline, Uh, feminine topics off late, I can't let this one be.
New York and single women in their thirties. Sex, shoes and bitching. What else does a girl need ? I love it. The book is nothing to the series, it is one of those things where the characters took off ... and took a life of their own and went where they would...
So, Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte and the notorious Sam. I recently read in some teeny-bopper blog about this guy getting uncomfortable when a girl asked him who she resembled the most out of the four SATC women. I laughed at the poor guy's dilemma, there was no winning this one...
Where do I start, shoes.. I love them, so that was the first source of bonding, Carrie purring "helllooo lovverrrrr" to a pair of Dolce Gabbana strappy sandals in the shop window. Instant love. The absurd heels, the crazy colors, Manolo Blahnik, Jimmy choo are household names now ...Ahh, shoes.
So next, Sex. It is pretty awesome. When the show first started some 5/6 years ago, there weren't many things on TV ( or cable) that talked about it from the woman's perspective, on prime time. The 'rabbit' episode was single handedly responsible for the sales spike at 'toys in babe-land'. Even the 'demure' Charlotte was hooked. Orgasms and faking it, every kind of sex(I am try-sexual, I'll try anything once) toys and men( and women)...Debunking the greatest myths of all time, lovely!
And the bitching, tearing down relationships, over-analyzing ex's, decimating the ex's new flame(the stick figure with no soul) and ex's ex and all 20 something girls ( until they marry the man who broke your heart). Feminine rivalry at its best, and feminine loyalty too ... women will hate for you, they don't' need logic like your men friends to hate someone who hurt you ... (It's hard to find people who will love you no matter what. I found three of them...)

I love it, for all that it is on the surface, the fashion, the trash talk, the outrageousness of it all. And I love it for how it is does not mince words. The girls are real to me, they are shallow, they are deep, they are random, they are flaky, they love, they hurt, they think... they are not angels or bitches... but they sit somewhere in between.




I admit it's tempting to wish for the perfect boss, the perfect parent, or the perfect outfit. But maybe the best any of us can do is not quit, play the hand we've been dealt, and accessorize what we've got.

Charlotte: So how are you?
Carrie: I'm good. How are you?
Charlotte: Great.
Carrie: I told Aidan about the affair and he broke up with me.
Charlotte: Trey and I never had sex on our honeymoon.
Carrie: You win. So. Should we get more coffee or should we get two guns and kill ourselves?

Can you get to your future if your past is present?

Stanford: I can only stay a few minutes. I got tickets to the Vagina Monologues.
Carrie: Why?
Stanford: Just because I don't eat at the restaurant doesn't mean I can't hear the specials.

Carrie: Hey, I don't need therapy. I need new friends!
Samantha: Look, we're as fucked up as you are. It's like the blind leading the blind.

Miranda: Steve is completely predictable but that's one of the things I love about him. He's just so comfortable and safe.
Carrie: Are you dating a man or a minivan?

Carrie: I tried the trapeze yesterday for that piece that I'm writing.
Charlotte: I could never! I have the most terrible fear of heights.
Carrie: Well, I do not. You've seen my shoes.

Carrie: Men in their forties are like the New York Times Sunday crossword puzzle: tricky, complicated, and you're never really sure you got the right answer.

Carrie: Well, I think maybe there's a cheating curve. That someone's definition of what constitutes cheating is in direct proportion to how much they themselves want to cheat.
Miranda: That's moral relativism!
Carrie: I prefer to think of it as quantum cheating.

Carrie: It's a pattern.
Samantha: I don't have a pattern.
Carrie: In math, randomness is considered a pattern.
Samantha: Yes, and I'm what they call a prime number.

Great sex is great, but I still like a song with a melody I can sing to.

Charlotte (about a waiter dressed in a bondage outfit): How does he wait on tables dressed like that? It's humiliating.
Carrie: Well, the summer I worked at Howard Johnson's I had to wear an orange hat.