Sex and the City -- My Take

So I can't remember the last time I was as excited for any movie/television event as I was earlier tonight on the car ride to Sex and the City -- The Movie. Oh wait... I remember. It was on the car ride to my pal Veronica's house to see the series finale of Sex and the City on HBO.

Both times I could barely sit still as I dreamed of the high fashion, hot men and glamorous gal pals that would fill the screen. Both times I was wearing Old Navy flip-flops that cost 1/1000th of one of Carrie Bradshaw's Manolo Blanik masterpieces, and I was wearing a Ball State T-shirt (Hello, fabulous?). Both times I was at a crossroads in my career, love life and personal growth. The only real difference this time was that I kept checking my cell phone to see if my parents had called with an update about Emilia (you know, like had she blinked since I was gone?) and 5 years ago it was to see if my roommate had texted the address of the house party.

But I digress... On to the movie itself.

It was like coming home for Christmas after a week of hellish finals. Like drinking strong coffee after sleeping in until noon and reaching for the newspaper. Three words -- Fab U Less

Sure, parts of it lacked the tight metaphoric writing that made parts of the series physically hurt to watch. I can't remember the theme of the last five minutes of the movie, but I immediately tried to write down the last five minutes of the series finale verbatim because it was a quote I never wanted to forget. In fact, the movie's best turn on words involved St. Louis (the city) and Saint Louise (Carrie's personal assistant) and and old Judy Garland classic (Meet Me in St. Louis). Yeah... somewhat disappointing there.

But the truth is, I wasn't looking for clever prose. I was looking for storyline. And I have a feeling that the millions of fans who went and saw it this weekend felt the same way. Would Carrie and Big finally tie the knot? Was Charlotte really pregnant, after years and years of fertility nightmares? Could Samantha really stay with one man (spolier alert -- no, she can't -- and thank god)? And was Maranda's Brooklyn fairy tale still on it's way to a happily ever after ending?
These, and many other questions, were answered. It was like a love fest for the faithful fans who prayed to the chick flick gods that this movie would somehow be made someday. There was high fashion, hot men and a reunion with old gal pals (and the addition of one more!).

And even though it might have been the big screen, or sweeping musical score, it reaffirmed my own faith in love. Faith that there is no reason to settle for less than an all-consuming, life-altering love for someone. A love that would bring your whole life crashing down around you if it were to be lost. A person that you absolutely, positively can not wake up in the morning without seeing.

And that was a message I needed to hear. To give me hope that he is out there, and that there is no reason for me, or any woman, to sell herself short on her soul mate.

Like Carrie tells Maranda in the movie coffee shop, "Sometimes love is not logical, it's emotional."

And worth every complication and plot twist along the way....