a sex and the city feast

Dating – more than one man, even – does not guarantee you won’t end up spending Saturday night alone on the couch. It’s okay, though, since I didn’t really actively pursue setting anything up for tonight. I poured myself a glass of wine, turned all the Christmas lights on, and cracked open my birthday gift (thanks Mom) – the entire first season of Sex and the City. After five episodes, I’m feeling a little more neurotic than usual. It’s the “single woman dating in the big city” thing.
I love Samantha. I’ve been able to have a few sexual escapades in the last decade or so that mirror hers, and at least a few times where I’ve been able to “fuck like a man” – just enjoy the pleasure, and not worry about if I’m going to get a phone call or not. I just don’t do it as well or as often as she does. For a short time in my life, I’d love to be able to carry it off as regularly as Sam, with even half the aplomb.
Thing is, I identify with Carrie. I’m not quite 30 -yet – and okay, I don’t exactly share her penchant for $400 stilettos and funky outfits, but we’re a lot alike. We think about sex and relationships – a lot – and write, though she’s paid better than I for the job! We make the same classically stupid mistakes time and time again with men. We both have a tendency to weaken when it comes to great sex, dark eyes, and unavailable men (or any combination thereof).
I also find Carrie’s life uncannily mirrors mine. Early in this year’s season, she had a nightmare of a blind date… when I found myself going through almost as nightmarish a time the exact same week. When I find myself thinking a great deal about past failed relationships, don’t I just tune in to see her examining the exact same things? Strange but true.
When she finds herself unbearably drawn to Big, even though he’s married and emotionally unavailable, there are uncomfortable quasi-parallels in my own life that are just easier not to think about. I still watch the show, though, even though it makes me squirm. It’s always so much easier to watch someone else’s life (on screen or off) and say… “What are you doing? Get the hell out of there while you still can, girl!” than it is to put your own house in order.
When she finds herself dating and just enjoying being single, I can also relate… sometimes it’s nice to be a single girl in the big city without the worries of heavy-duty emotional stuff.
Maybe I tune in just to see if she’s ever going to get her shit together when it comes to men.
She won’t, of course – it’s a TV show, after all – but I also think to some degree it’s also just life. Do women every really relax and stop being neurotic about men completely?And on that Sex-In-The-City-like note, I’ll leave you for the night…