Just too busy being fabulous

The big buzz is the release of “Sex and The City” coming to theaters this weekend. Every radio station, tv channel, person I know is advertising or talking about it. I cannot jump on that band wagon. I was never a fan of the show, which had a lot of potential, but ended up being more of a gossipy, whining drone of beautiful, rich women complaining about having too many men and too much sex in their lives. Really? That’s what you’re bitching about? Most women would kill to have those kinds of problems. Of course I realize the theme of the show really wasn’t too many men or too much sex, but too little love and the complexities of relationships. However, if any one of those women had an ounce of a brain they could figure that one out… Come on ladies. Use you’re brain, not your box.

The ladies on the show often come off as catty and rude to each other and to the men they seem so enthralled with. Yet, there’s always a scene where they are eating or drinking and they make some hilarious sexual comment or innuendo and they laugh together and somehow that is supposed to solidify the deep bond they share with each other and convince the viewer that truly they are BFF. Unfailingly, at the end of every episode, Carrie has the epiphany of knowledge or understanding about her or her buddies’ current dilemma, a true message from God that is supposed to point her in the right direction to her happily every after. Yet the following episode, the knowledge or understanding seems to have disappeared from her bleach-blonde head.

I guess most women can relate to those circumstances just a little bit and that is where some of the appeal comes in. I just cannot understand watching (much less enjoying) someone else’s drama – fake drama – when I’ve got my own ball of crap to deal with. Especially when Carrie’s crap looks better than mine.