I'm sure that every female (and the majority of my male friends) has uttered the following words at some point in the past thirteen years and it is unfortunate to admit that I feel exactly the same way and will utter the same words:
I am obsessed with Sex and the City.
God, it feels good to get that out! Even though I've probably said it at least a hundred times before... Well, I guess now it's in writing. Anyway, I was watching the series finale of Sex and the City for the twentieth time last night and, let me tell you, it never fails to disappoint. I cry. I laugh. I long for every article of clothing SJP gets to unrealistically flaunt in Paris even on her meager writer's salary. In the episode she traipses the streets of Paris alone while her former-ballerina Russian boyfriend is consumed with his art gallery opening.
Carrie keeps commenting throughout the episode on how she is living in such an incredible city with so much to do and to see, but at the same time feels terribly alone and uninterested. She convinces herself that as long as she is in such an amazing place, nothing else really matters. She attends the same museums and patisseries over and over, trying to occupy her immense amount of free time.
Hmmmmmm....This sounds a lot like someone I know. Oh, right. That would be me. I live in one of the most amazing cities in the world and yet I am constantly bored out of my mind. I can't count how many times I have walked the multiple paths of Central Park, gazed at the gorgeous skylines, people-watched out the window of different Starbucks locations, and sat on the steps of the Met hoping to become cultured by osmosis.
Luckily, through my work I get to experience New York through the eyes of innocent children and get to do activities I otherwise would not do on my own. Those are the days when I really feel like a true New Yorker and take full advantage of the city.
With a five year-old as my date, I've ridden rides in the Central Park amusement park, taken a horse-drawn carriage ride, cowered beneath the gigantic whale in the Museum of Natural History, enjoyed low-guilt frozen yogurt on a hot summer day, and ordered room service in one of Manhattan's most lavish hotels. Hey, at least the conversation isn't filled with doubts about our futures and our constant financial worry. It's much more advanced.
Perhaps we should all view everyday in NYC like we are five year-olds that are only in town for a short period of time. Try to fit a million fun things in to one day and experience it like you're getting on a plane and leaving tomorrow. Carrie did, but then she actually left. So...maybe that was a bad example. Oopsies.
|The Fro Yo had a little accident...|