The other day I was telling someone about how I’ve become friends with an ex and that it’s the most relaxed and easy friendship I have right now.  He pointed out that it’s probably because he’s not trying to jump my bones.  And I think he’s right.

This has led me to analyze every opposite sex relationship in my life over the past few days.  The conclusion that I’ve come to is that girls can be friends with guys, but guys cannot be friends with girls unless they have already slept with them and it didn’t work out.  There are always exceptions, but I’d say about 90% of the time this is true.  My reasoning for this is that every guy that I consider a relatively good friend has come on to me at some point.  Sometimes it’s subtle, sometimes it’s blatant, sometimes it catches me totally off guard.  And that’s when it goes from simple to awkward.

I don’t know how to politely say, “I just want to be friends,” when I know what will come out is, “What the shit are you doing?!”  So what do I do instead?  Avoid them like the plague.  I get busy and don’t have time to see them for awhile.  Does this solve the problem?  Doubtful.  But then when I DO see them again, I make sure it’s not too late in the evening and not too many drinks will be had.  And public places are always good, though sometimes don’t make a difference depending on the guy.

What I don’t understand is where these guys are coming from.  Are they just looking to get laid?  Is it like, “Hey, you’re my friend.  Let’s see if we can’t get a little more out of this!”  In that case, I can see their point.  It’s not a new philosophy that a guy thinks with his penis (can’t wait for the spam comments for Viagra to come flowing through now that I’ve written ‘penis’ …twice).  However, I don’t think that’s really it judging from the text messages/phone calls/emails/facebook messages that come flowing through.

This leads me to think either one of two things.  The first is that they think I’m coming onto them.  Ok.  I’ve been told that I am flirtatious in nature.  I even got ‘Coquetita’ as an award on a trip to Costa Rica my senior year of high school (translates as ‘Little Flirt’).  But I really just like to hear what people have to say; where they’ve been, where they’re going, what they’re thinking.  I don’t have any ulterior motives; I like to get to know people.  If I can’t stand you, it’s hard for me to fake it.

Number 2, however, boggles my mind and disturbs me a bit more: a false sense of chemistry.  When I meet a guy, I know within the first ten minutes if I would date him.  And this isn’t some superficial thing where I judge whether or not he’s good enough for me.  Let’s be honest here; no one is good enough for me.  Kidding!  Just joshing, my friends.  It’s just that I can instinctively tell when there is something that I’m intrinsically drawn to within a person.  Sometimes it works out, sometimes it does not.  But forcing a chemistry that’s not there is something I want no part of.  We can save that rant for another time.

What my point is in all of this, is that I’ve always valued having platonic friendships with guys.  The kind of insight you get from a guy, whether they know it or not, is astounding.  They just think so differently that it makes sense why it’s always a love/hate relationship with the opposite sex.  Girlfriends always have good advice, or at least someone who can relate to whatever you’re bitching about, but a guy’s point of view is invaluable.  Like it’s coming from another species that lives in a completely different reality.  It’s something to learn from.  And that is why I would like to keep the majority of of these guys in my good graces.  As friends.  Not more.

The water was warm from a long day in the sun.  They were tired and hungry, but enveloped in unexpected awe and a happiness that would linger for a long time.  It was a day to look back on and smile.

They were friends since Kindergarten, and though they don’t see each other all that often anymore, they still understand one another in a way that is only possible when you’ve known someone since you were barely out of diapers.  While the other kids were learning how to share their toys and say “I’m sorry,” the girls were busy playing dress-up and talking about boys.  The two still aren’t all that great at sharing and are stubborn to apologize, but their sense of style and dating skills are off the charts.

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Bees are very interesting creatures.  They create something so sweet and delicious that the name has become the most natural term of endearment (”Honey, I’m home!”).  A bee’s life is so purposeful and ordered - they don’t rationalize why they do what they do.  If their tiny little brains started functioning more heartily, they might decide to stop and then we humans who must justify everything would cease to reap the saccharine benefits.

But should we come face to face with one of these little critters, the majority of us freak out because our minds are immediately focused on that little stinger and the pain it can cause us.  As we shriek like a little girl, we forget how large we are and that a simple swat will turn the bugger into a bloodstain on the wall.  And if we get stung anyway, the bee dies.  The bee never wins.

And that is exactly how I feel lately.  There have been several instances where I’ve been told by different people that I’m intimidating, scary, and even terrifying.  What they don’t realize is that whatever sting I could cause is at least proportionate to the harm they can cause me.  And all I really want to do is make something lovely.  Like the bees.

At least that isn’t what I use it for.  And if you think it is and send me messages like these, be prepared for mockery.

Here’s a tip just for you, Paul: go to a yoga class.  Chicks love them.  And it seems like the kind of ladies you are looking for probably don’t love messages on MySpace that sound like personal ads.

And I know you’re not creepy how?  You’re hitting on me over the internet.  For you I suggest lots of porn until you can get up the nerve to head to the bar and hit on some drunk chick that you might get lucky with if her beer goggles have gotten thick enough.  (Sorry, Cory, if you actually are cute, I wouldn’t know.  I deleted your message and blocked you after I took this screenshot.)

You’re right.  I can’t think of anything worse to do than write you back.  You don’t have a ‘firstname’ and you wished me Merry Christmas in June.

Uhhhhhhhhhhh… really?  Is that really appropriate?

Bet you don’t think I’m so nice anymore, Leo.  That’s because I’m not.  I’m a bitch.  And I eat boys like you for breakfast.  With syrup.

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One of my favorite things to do is to go into Sephora and get all lightheaded picking out a new perfume when I can no longer smell the old on on me anymore.  I recently switched to Pure Poison by Dior that I picked up first because, well, I judge a book by it’s cover.  I liked the packaging.  And it’s got those sexy oriental scents I’m so attracted to.  And come to find out, I don’t think the marketing is all that off.  I have reason to believe it really does have powers of seduction.  But then again, seduction isn’t making someone do what they don’t want to do. Seduction is enticing someone into doing what they secretly want to do already.*

*That quote is totally stolen and I feel it necessary to give due credit.

Peeves:

1. Labels and love are the reasons to come to New York?  FUCK.  THAT.  Had I known that - had I been looking for that - I never would have come. As far as I’m concerned, this is the most difficult place in the world to have a lasting relationship. And most of the people I know can barely afford to eat in order to pay their rent, much less splurge on thousand dollar handbags.
2. Some of the cheese just got to be too much. The “love” keychain made me roll my eyes quite a few times. Especially when it turned out to be the password to get to Big. Yuck.
3. P.S. ~ Miss Louise found her love in St. Louis and moved back to the Midwest. If you’re confused as to why this is a peeve, see #1.
4. There’s a Metrocard in Carrie’s bag when she is returning books to the library. In the entirety of all six seasons, Carrie has only taken the subway once: when she was stuck in traffic and needed to get downtown to ring the bell at the stock market (episode To Market, To Market). Why on earth would she start taking the train now when she is A. more successful and B. has Big’s driver at her disposal?
5. With said Metrocard, she could’ve gotten to Miranda’s apartment much faster on New Year’s Eve when the streets were clogged with cabs. But instead she ran 100 blocks on icy sidewalks in pajamas and heels. Cute, yes, but completely unnecessary. Though I do understand that sometimes you need those hundred blocks to clear your head and put yourself in a better place than when you walked out the door, I’m not sure this was the case here.

Loves (and these will far outnumber the bothers):

1. Theme numero 1: Happiness. I loved when Charlotte said that yes, she was in fact happy in her life every single day. It seems like so many people are content with being happy most of the time, or even some of the time. It should be every single day. Otherwise you are settling. Don’t settle.
2. Theme numero 2: Forgiveness. Carrie says to Miranda, “You’re asking me to forgive you after 3 days and you won’t forgive Steve after 6 months?” Miranda replies, “It’s not the same thing.” Carrie says, “It’s forgiveness.” Thank you, Carrie! Forgive and forget and move on with your life. You’re only hurting yourself by holding onto anger. This also means that you can never again use it against the person. Otherwise you haven’t really forgiven, have you?
3. Theme numero 3: Friendship. Obviously the whole movie revolves around this one, but it’s important. When you’re having a tough time in life, sometimes you need someone to show up with a bottle of vodka. Or make you eat when you have no appetite. Or make you get up and get dressed and get out of the house when you really don’t want to. Sometimes your friends do know what’s best for you.
4. Theme numero 4: Love. The biggest one of all (no pun intended, really). Through most of this movie I sat there thinking that I never want to get married, never even want to get involved with anyone ever again. The heartache can be so overwhelming when things go awry. The thing is, though, that you always surface from it. It takes time, but the sadness and loneliness dissipate and then you learn something. In this case, Miranda and Steve learned they couldn’t let their lives get in the way of their marriage. Carrie and Big learned they didn’t need to put on a show for everyone else when all they wanted was each other. Samantha learned she wasn’t meant for relationships regardless of how much she loved someone. And Charlotte, well I think she had love figured out a long time ago.
5. Carrie’s pink sparkly cell phone was duct taped together.
6. The whole Saint Louise thing was cute. Especially when Carrie had to turn off the movie Meet Me in St. Louis because of Judy Garland’s love song. A little bit of cynicism can go a long way in a movie about love.
7. The product placement made me laugh. All of the norms were there (ahem, Manolo Blahnik), but the Vitamin Waters on the chairs at the fashion show? Hi-larious.
8. The Vogue photo shoot. My wet dream realized.
9. The fact that Carrie wants to write about found love and how to keep it. Sequel anyone??
10. Standford Blatch and Anthony Marentino are friends. ‘Nough said.
11. The closet Big builds for Carrie. I would have sex with it if I could. It breaks my heart that she doesn’t get to use it.
12. Carrie’s redecorated apartment. Especially when she’s shopping for desks (”If you have the right desk, the words will come.”)
13. Samantha’s humping puppy. So appropriate.
14. Sushi.
15. The Cinderella thread. Carrie tells Charlotte’s daughter that things don’t always work out like that. In the end Big slips her foot into her gorgeous blue Manolos. We’ll call it Cheese Well Done.
16. The movie ended zooming out from the center of the Meatpacking District - my favorite neighborhood in this most glorious city - catching glimpses of Soho House and Hotel Gansevoort. Two of my favorite places because, in addition to other reasons, I’ve had some very awesome incidents there as of late.

I’m sure I could go on, but this is already a rather long list. There was a good portion of the movie that I sat there thinking, “I don’t like this. It’s making me too sad.” But then they made Charlotte shit her pants. I came away from it smiling. I think they did great justice to the show. Just like Carrie’s first book dedication, it’s for hopeful women everywhere.

On Thursday evening, I had tickets to an advance screening of the movie at the AMC Times Square theater. I got there over an hour early since I imagined there would be a line. Boy, was I right. The theater (there was only one reserved for this purpose?!) hit capacity long before I got in and there were still hundreds of people behind me. The issue of overbooking the theater by hundreds of people is something to be discussed in itself, but it didn’t really bother me all that much. I was in good company and we decided it’s probably better to live sex and the city rather than watching it on the big screen. We ended up going for food and drinks at HK. Sexy, sexy.

Anyway, it got me thinking about the fact that there have been countless premieres and advance screenings and parties in honor of this movie. Excuse me, hit HBO show turned movie. The hype has gotten unreal. Even my friend that lives in Corona, California (pretty small town) sent me a text saying there was a huge premiere for it with ladies everywhere decked out in pink feather boas. The hype has become huge. Bigger than big, if you will (pun intended).

Last night I downloaded the soundtrack because I had previously visited the official website of the movie and loved the music playing on it, but couldn’t find the tracks. The song I had noticed more than the others was India.Arie’s version of The Heart of the Matter. When I saw the track list I was quite pleased that it was her as it’s such a lovely version of the song and I’ve always been a fan of the soulful singer. In fact, the whole album is quite sweet from the nostalgic collaboration of Al Green and Joss Stone on How Can You Mend a Broken Heart to The Bird and the Bee’s light and airy vocals on How Deep is Your Love to Run-D.M.C.’s version of Walk This Way to the touching love song Kissing by Bliss (I could go on - I’ve even come around to Fergie’s talk of Manolo’s). After listening to the album on repeat 3 or 4 times, I decided that I needed to go see how these songs played out while the fantastic four ran around NYC trying to figure out their lives. After all, my DVD’s aren’t worn out for nothing. These girls are my friends and I want to go see how the last 4 years of their lives have been.

This morning I got up and put the album on again while I got ready to head out. There were shows pretty much every hour so I figured I’d be able to find one that wasn’t sold out without buying a ticket online. Well that was most certainly a dumb ass decision. I showed up to the theater on 3rd ave in the East Village and every single show was sold out until 11:30pm. Again, I wasn’t all that flustered since I probably should have known better.

But it got me thinking about how the craze surrounding the flick has spun it into a huge blockbuster-sized film. Why is it so big? I mean, it was a hit TV show, but still, in essence, a TV show. And then I realized that it’s really quite simple. It’s because it was an extraordinary TV show that broke boundaries and the hype is reflecting that significance. It was always relatable, but without ever going over the top. You could understand what they felt and what they were going through. The situations weren’t out there, they always hit close to home.

Walking down St. Mark’s Place on my way to the theater I passed by St. Mark’s Comics which always reminds me of the episode Hot Child in the City (yes, I know the episode name off the top of my head) when Carrie goes to get her shoes fixed and finds a cute younger man has replaced the shoe repair shop with a comic book store. Every time I walk by there I crane my neck to see if there are any cute boys in there. You see the impact this show has on people?!

Since I haven’t seen the movie (though I have seriously tried), I don’t know what happens. But seeing as it’s become this huge thing, it seems like what is called for is a blockbuster-sized storyline. If it’s not, the masses may come away disappointed because the movie wasn’t earth-shattering. However, the show was never really that out there. It was life. Maybe extravagantly dressed life, but the fashion came second to the relationships.

The point I’m trying to make is that if the movie is some crazy tragic story, then it becomes unrelatable and thus loses the thread of greatness that weaved the show together so well. I’m not really sure what to expect other than seeing the girls parading down 5th ave decked out in some expensive labels, but I hope it stays true to it’s roots: a smart show (movie) with thoughtful points made on life and love.

And so, while I wait for the crowds to die down, I’ll be out in living my life in this fabulous city. In fact, I’m going to be late to meet friends because I’ve been sitting here typing instead of living. And on that note, I’m out.

Amy : I’m an insatiable beast these days

Christina : me too

Christina : I dont know whats wrong with me

Christina : I’m always hungry

Amy : me too

Christina : how do I fight these evil urges?

Amy : I know what my problem is

Amy : I’m eating away my sex drive

Amy : trying to at least

Christina : hey, thats a good idea

Amy : no it’s not

Christina : cause if I eat an entire batch of brownies…I won’t wanna have sex cause I’ll feel like a whale

Amy : but see, I’d much rather be having sex

Amy : but that’s probably because I haven’t had any recently

Christina : me too, who am I kidding?

Amy : who ARE you kidding?

Amy : please bitch

Christina : but sex is right up there with eating

Christina : scarily equivalent

I just wrote this line into an email:

I never took an unpaid internship except for once at a recording studio and that’s just because it was full of boys and semi-celebrities recording music.

I had to stop and read it a few times before continuing on. I was shocked at how naturally it came out since most of the time I forget that I even worked there, much less pondered the reasons I was there at all.

But seriously, if you’re not being paid, shouldn’t you be compensated in some other way? All I did was sit at the front desk and occasionally answer the phone, so it’s not like I was learning invaluable skills that would make me a much wiser and competent human being. Unless, of course, we are talking about refining my flirting skills. And in that field, my friend, I was a born natural.