I am having a duvet day and while I do have this ever sought after experience I have decided to watch the torturous first season of Sex and the City. I call it research, others may call it sad.
I am in my mid twenties- I have a normalish social life and I work full time in a well paid enoughish job. But this show tells me that I must now be doing something terribly terribly wrong.
Carrie Bradshaw has convinced an entire generation that she can survive as a lowly journalist and still wear the latest fashion, live in a non bed sit type apartment and get all the men she can spread her legs like butter for.
I just don't get it.
Horse face gets more men than the rest of us? Is that fair? Even in a fictional world of materialism I find it somewhat offensive that I am to believe that her life is in fact believe able.
Apparently, if this show it to be believed and as I have spent the last hour and a half doing so.... all romance has physics... I would have said it was more a chemical challenge (I'd need to be all kinds of loaded to want to wake up with Sarah Jessica long face... harsh).
The main difference after the fact that I don't actually believe this world exists is the fact that women are so obsessed with having that man at that time in that life.
Do you remember when you were in school and you thought all your teachers were this strange creatures? People you could never imagine yourself being? Or when you were 13 and you thought by the time you would be 25 your whole world would be decided to mapped out (sweet jesus).
I think now that I have reached that milestone I will have it all planned by about 60....
and with that.... I turn off the television.
