Carrie on...

I'm fairly sure everyone has seen the Sex and the City 2 trailer by now - if you haven't, google it (I'm not posting it here, or I'll be damned)! Admittedly, when I first came across it, I got a little excited to see an excerpt from the scene I was slaving away on for four days in Greenpoint back in October (that would be the clip when the four spanxed, war-painted stars walk down a glittery stage to belt out some karaoke together: more about it here). But aside from that, the teaser felt mostly like a parade of expensive designer garb and footwear, "modeled" by the four leading SATC ladies so as to make us forget what we're really watching was nothing but a shameless potpourri of product placement.

OK, I get it! The production company doesn't want to spoil the plot... but is that really an excuse for feeding us such a lame trailer? The only thing I can tell for sure is that this load of crap has nothing to do with the TV show I used to love!

I always thought the show captured single life in NYC so beautifully: there's always a party to attend, always a chock-full of guys fighting to pay for your drinks, always a good reason to stay out all night and suffer through the following day with the help of a gallon of Starbucks. You like one of your "boyfriends" a little more than the others, but he doesn't want to be in a relationship - it's too complicated. The two of you make up and break up, and you make your friends' ears sore whining constantly about it and trying to decipher all of his words and actions to find out what he really meant. You hook up with a member of an up-and-coming local band because he's the only one who "cares about my personality, not just my looks". And the following day you read online that he has herpes and your girlfriends have to take you to the Lower East Side Healthcare Network to get tested, because you spent your last dollars on Manolos instead of paying up your health insurance. Sigh....

And in-between all the partying, dating, brunching and bar hopping, you constantly worry about what will happen if you never get the chance to meet the right guy, settle down and grow up a little... will you end up like the spinster cat lady upstairs, who vacuums all night long and never washes her hair, or will you just give up and marry some short, boring dude whose only quality is that he wants a monogamous relationship and happens to be single, just like yourself? Well, that's when your girls take you out for skim cappuccinos and fat-free, carb-free muffins (how the heck is that possible, by the way?), and assure you you're the most fabulous chick ever and that it's totally OK to have an emergency person who is not your boyfriend or husband.

Okay, I realize it's like this everywhere... but I have never experienced it as intensely as I did when I first moved to New York! Everything about the TV show was spot-on, to say the least. Each and every episode made me laugh, cry and roar with recognition. Seriously! And more importantly, the characters were charming, approachable and refreshingly real. What woman hasn't worried about the size of her thighs, has only dated guys who fit all the 10,000 requirements on her laundry list, and at least hasn't had nightmares that no one would show up to her birthday party? Just admit it already!

Carrie smoked pot in public, crashed NYU parties although she was way over 30, got drunk out on the town and went home with some hippie whose name she didn't know, cheated on her boyfriend with her married ex, couldn't afford her apartment although it was rent-controlled (yeah, right!), had a total fortune of 500 bucks in a checking account plus a plethora of designer apparel and shoes, and was caught by her squeaky-clean boyfriend, sitting in the gutter outside a restaurant smoking a Marlboro Red.... just like the rest of us! Right (cough, cough)?!

Fast-forward to 2009 and she has turned into a rich bitch whose closet is bigger than a typical New York City girl's whole apartment, and whose biggest headache seems to be whether to choose Ballet Slippers or Marshmallow for her next manicure. She is no longer your loyal BFF who was always up for mixers and happy hours on super short notice, but rather the friend who married a loaded guy, moved to Park Avenue and never calls anymore except for when she wants to invite you to a cocktail party with 200+ guests at her townhouse. Lame!

But the funny thing is that no matter what, you will still go out of your way to keep in touch with an old friend like Carrie. After all, you do share a boatload of amazing memories and you used to have just about everything in common.... and if not for anything else, she might lend you that gorgeous white Halston dress! I guess this means I will run to the theatre, just like everyone else, when the movie drops next summer... for old times' sake.

Happy New Year again, everyone! Please tell me I am not overthinking this!

XOXOXOX