Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Now I want a cosmo
My husband is out of town and I am already watching "Sex and the City" on demand. I'm like a caricature of a bored housewife. This episode I'm on is from the last season, with Aleksandr Petrovsky, Miranda's wedding and Samantha's breast cancer. Not my favorite season, but it'll do. And, Carrie's hair is pretty, wavy awesomeness. As I watch this, it has just occurred to me that I am now frighteningly close to the age of these characters, at least much more so than when I initially enjoyed the series almost ten years ago.
Back then, I was in my early twenties, living in Manhattan-Los Angeles-Manhattan, spending four to five nights a week in bars/lounges/clubs. In almost four years, I've been to less than five clubs in San Francisco. My, how the mighty have fallen. This show, unrealistic though it was (exactly what kind of writer buys those shoes and lives in that apartment?), always makes me miss New York. New York and brunch. Brunches that lasted hours, dissecting dates, careers, travel plans, families. I wish I had that time again to chat with my girlfriends, children, husbands and geographic distance be damned.
Incidentally, I actually met Sarah Jessica Parker when I was in college. Unbeknownst to me, I was babysitting for her niece and nephew and almost squealed with delight when she opened the door. She was as sweet as pie and teeny, tiny. That same night, the family's dog gave birth in their bath tub. I had to call the parents back for an emergency delivery. I helped to whelp!
Dun dun dunna...